Grasspipering, Winnie Pro Tips, Sea Rim State Park, Sabine Woods

Being true to my nature, I am really dragging out reporting from Texas this spring, but we are getting close to the end. Also, this post somehow seems more relevant now than a couple of months ago, as we are all again experiencing the passage of shorebirds and passerines that are such a big part of what makes us do what we do.

Before BB&B leaves the High Island area entirely, a few more quick notes...grasspipers and Hudsonian Godwits were target species for the trip, and we did quite a bit of driving around in Chambers County (where Anahuac NWR is) before sweet victory. American Golden-Plovers (front bird in the above photo) were fairly common and not difficult to find, but it took a while before we finally connected with Buff-breasted (above) and Upland Sandpipers, which are both marvelous species that I am perpetually starved for here on the west coast. I dig the white wing linings glowing on one of the Buff-breasteds above.

There are a plethora of roads on the coastal plain that could potentially lead you to good shorebirding or grasspipering; we barely scratched the surface. Our Field of Dreams for grasspipers was a very large field with very short grass on farm road 1941, west of TX-124. Flooded fields in a few places had additional Buff-breasted Sandpipers, Ruddy Turnstones (which I don't consider to be ag field birds, but they know better), White-rumped and Baird's Sandpipers, etc.

A few logistical tips for anyone planning on making the trip next spring:

*We stayed at Motel 6 in Winnie. It was relatively cheap and totally fine, aside from the clogged sink that the staff took days to fix. I would stay there again though.

*In Winnie, we ate at Al-T's steakhouse a lot, which you should do as well. We also ate at the Crawfish Box, which was awesome. That was my lifer crawfish meal, and I can't wait to do it again. I also made Dan and Nate eat at Waffle House, because I love Waffle House.

*I looked into Airbnbs before the trip, but the only options in the immediate area were out on the Bolivar Peninsula and they were not cheap, though if you were travelling in a group renting out a beach house would definitely make sense. Any resident of Winnie or High Island who lists their place on Airbnb could potentially rake it in March-May, provided their listing consisted of something nicer than a decaying trailer (which are locally common). 

*As far as we could figure, the best coffee in Winnie (which is not the same as good coffee) is at Brewed Awakening.

*The Market Basket in Winnie has all the groceries you need, aside from liquor.

With the Galveston and Chambers sites wrapped up, let's move on to Jefferson County! Jefferson is the easternmost county on the UTC and is right on the Louisiana border. Sea Rim State Park is one of the hotspots in the area. According to Steve from Kansas City (Hi Steve!), Sea Rim once hosted a willow patch that was an absolute gem of a migrant trap, but was inundated with brackish water from a hurricane several years ago and is no more. The park is still good for a variety of water birds though, including this confiding Solitary Sandpiper.

I'm not saying this is a skulky or wary species, but I have had a hell of a time getting to close to them most places. This bird had no qualms about lingering in crush range.

I think the bird is just expelling some salt out of its nostrils, but this appears to be the equivalent of a Solitary Sandpiper sneeze.

Lesser Yellowlegs are one of the most abundant shorebird migrants on the UTC. This one was still mostly in basic plumage.

Oddly, Greater Yellowlegs were an uncommon bird everywhere we went, which just doesn't compute to me considering the abundance and diversity of shorebirds in the region. Compare the bicolored, recurved and longer bill on this bird with the Lesser Yellowlegs above.

Long-billed Dowitcher. It's not a field mark I use, but supposedly the kink in the bill visible in the first photo is supposed to be a helpful field mark for Short-billed Dowitcher. These days everyone seems to have their own suite of field marks they like to use to ID dowitchers that they apply very liberally...what happened to caution? Has it been thrown to the wind, no longer warranted? At least Short-billed X Long-billed Dowitcher doesn't seem to be a popular identification yet. The increasing (yes, still) tendency of birders to identify birds as bizarre hybrids continues to be disappointing.

Least Bitterns, on the other hand, are never disappointing, even if they prefer to stay hidden in the reeds.

Even Boat-tailed Grackles aren't disappointing if you go long enough without seeing them. This one was doing its best to strike a pose that would eliminate all iridescence and recall a Melodious Blackbird (perhaps the most overdue Mexican bird yet to be found in the states), but with such a boaty tail and unmelodious voice it had no chance.

When Roseate Spoonbills are flying overhead at sunset, all is very briefly right with the world.

Common Nighthawk was a common migrant during our week on the UTC. This one chose to roost on the boardwalk out over the marsh. Like all nightjars, they are extremely novel to see up close.

Sea Rim was nice but not exactly thrilling, though I'm sure it can get really birdy at times. And we didn't even get out to the beach, so who knows what was lounging on the sandy sand? We gave a valiant effort to try and hear a Black Rail, donating blood to mosquitoes at dusk, but none vocalized. We really let Nate down, which haunts me to this day.

The last hotspot BB&B is going to cover from Texas is Sabine Woods. The first afternoon we visited yielded tons of birders (gross), which brought Boy Scout Woods to mind, but more importantly lots and lots of birds, mostly ground-loving and low-in-the-canopy species like this Worm-eating Warbler. Not a fallout, but there were a shitload of migrants. It was an impressive showing - migrants seemed to be everywhere at times - and yet another reminder that migration in the region really is a spectacle. The patch itself was really nice to bird - large, canopy openings, drips, ponds, edge habitat, relatively low numbers of mosquitos, lots of room to spread out and get away from other birders when necessary.

Who doesn't love Black-billed Cuckoo? Everyone was stoked to see Black-billed Cuckoo, especially considering their status as a MEGA (and a BLOCKER) in California. Nate and I had seen one earlier back at Hooks Woods but this is the only one of the trip that was chill enough to be photographed. I'm glad I don't see them very often because I suspect I could get strongly emotionally attached to them if I lived within their range.

There will be one more Texas post, featuring nothing but Sabine Woods, and the best day of birding the entire trip.

Pawnee National Grasslands Part I

Colorado. That's what I had been blogging about before my computer died. Now that I have a new one, blogging can resume! Of course it's September now, so there is a great deal to catch up on, but BB&B does not quit. Especially now that there are so few of us left, and very few of us remain to carry the blogging torch, we must persevere...

Which is not important for our purposes...not today at least. So back in July, after a great victory with the White-tailed Ptarmigan, we quit the Rockies for flatter ground. I had heard about the expansive prairies of Pawnee National Grassland for my entire birding life, and I finally got to bird it. After assisting a jackrabbit with its suicide (second lagomorph species I killed on this trip, the first without using a rock) with the wheel of our rental car, we were out on the auto tour route of the grasslands. Billy immediately found this Solitary Sandpiper, one of the few shorebirds we saw on the whole trip.

The first prairie dog town we came up on had a number of Burrowing Owls, which were pleasantly common on this day. Here are a couple of juveniles checking us out from the safety of a burrow entrance. I've heard much about how Burrowing Owls love prairie dog towns, so it was pretty cool to finally see this relationship in action.

Slowly we began to see more and more birds along the road. In many parts of the Grasshopper Sparrow's range, it requires much effort to actually see them. That is not true at Pawnee, where they were also pleasantly common. Here is a streaky (by Grasshopper Sparrow standards) juvenile.

Another juvenile, though it looks a bit older than the above bird.

The abundance of Grasshopper Sparrows was definitely due, in part, to the crop of juvenile birds littering the roadsides. Here is an adult bird, with bright yellow lores.

It did not take long for Lark Buntings to start popping up. Lark Bunting is Colorado's state bird, and a very good one at that. Adult females like this one can be very striking, though they lack the crippling effect adult males can often have on an observer.

Juvenile Lark Bunting, a life plumage. Pink legs...I didn't know that color belonged on a Lark Bunting...but even the #7 U.S. birder may be surprised. The birder who is no longer surprised is not an experienced birder, no...it is a dead birder.

Though it was late July and juvenile birds were out in force, we did see plenty of males owning the Economy of Style. A couple were even doing display flights, which I had only seen once before. Prairie birding is so fucking good...

This Common Nighthawk chose a photogenic roosting site. Thank you, nighthawk.

All these other birds were great, but I was frothing at the mouth to see some longspurs. Longspurs, lonspurs, longspurs...as a Californian, we get a taste of them, but all too often it is just a tease. Laplands are always a good bird, albeit expected in certain areas, but Chestnut-collareds are extremely erratic, McCown's is a great bird, and Smith's is a MEGUH. Even if we do get to see 'spurs here, all too often we are forced to settle with absolute bullshit looks. I hadn't seen a McCown's in years, and never outside of California, so this was pretty much my main target bird of the day, even though they are relatively common at Pawnee. Eventually we found an area thick with them, and had a flock on the road next to the car, with a couple females (above) and a bunch of juveniles.

Juvenile longspurs are not a strong suit for most birders. The first time I saw a juvenile Lapland (in the western Aleutians), it caused complete and total brainfreeze. If someone would have asked me what it was right after I got on the bird, I probably would have responded with "Durrrrrrrr". A couple of these juveniles brought that Durrrrrr feeling back, but this is indeed a juvenile McCown's, another life plumage.

Seeing a flock of these charismatic (and probably rapidly declining) birds flopping around in the road in front of me was like plunging a syringe full of heroin into my arm for the first time really cool. The birding gods smiled upon me. But the day was not over yet...more to come in the next post.

High Counts and Nighthawk Stroking

Common Nighthawk is so sleepy, it would rather be crushed than have to wake up. Willacy County, Texas.

Well friends, my time in Texas is rapidly drawing to a close. The birds have been good to me, which I attribute to the many blood sacrifices I have made to various birding deities. I still find it a bit odd though, when you get an email from one of the legends of Texas birding, requesting 3 pints of fresh plasma to be shipped to him ASAP.

The theme today? High counts. A couple lifers aside, I've just been setting personal new high counts of a bunch of different species. It feels good...it feels right. However, if you are a Texan birder, this post will probably come off as serious robin-stroking to you.

Such nostrils. The patterning on nightjars amazes me. If you don't like it, you are jaded and should quit birding immediately. Develop a troll-like online personality and haunt every birding listserv, every Facebook group, every birding forum you can, but never look at an actual bird again.

Common Nighthawks are abundant here in the LRGV now. My life is enhanced. My homeland, on the California coast, is despised by nightjars.

Have you ever gotten sick with Dickcissel fever? I highly recommend it. Another common migrant in the valley, it has been a great honor finally getting to know these birds well outside of a vagrant setting. Hidalgo County, Texas.

Fact: Dickcissels love sunflowers.

I wish I could have dropped the ISO on this image some more, but this is one of the mellower shots I got this spring. So pastoral it hurts.

Scissor-tailed Flycatchers have been my constant companions over the past months. I don't feel ashamed to say that they are superior to my usual phoebe companions. Cameron County, TX.

Mmmmmm, salmon flanks.

For about a month, I was treated to Upland Sandpipers almost every day...this is something I was accustomed to my from my time in North Dakota, but to see flocks of them on the regular was something else. I had no idea they could be so abundant. Willacy County, TX.

The vast majority of them were in agricultural areas where no sane person goes birding. This one is in a cotton field.

That's quite the eyering. An homage to Empidonax, perhaps?

Solitary Sandpiper is a truly humble bird, but I am grateful to have a small Tringid to visibly feast upon. Ramsey Nature Park, Harlingen, TX.

There aren't obscene numbers moving through the Valley or anything, but they were pretty regular for a while. Now they are far to the north of us. My time in the Aleutians has prepared me for finding a Wood Sandpiper in the Lower 48 one day, but I'm not so sure about Green Sandpiper.

Yeah, I haven't been posting many "valley specialties". You're probably pretty pissed. Well, there are a lot of Great Kiskadees around these parts. This iconic bird is very adaptable and is not hard to find. It makes me wonder how Social Flycatchers have not shown up here with more regularity...like the kiskadee, there are a shitload of them in northern Mexico and they do well in many different habitats. Ramsey Nature Park.

Ah, a BB&B first. In mid-April, it seemed the world suddenly became alive with bobwhites. While it is known that Northern Bobwhite populations are fairing poorly through much of the U.S., they seem to be pleasantly widespread in the lower valley. I just wish they would sit still for harder crushes. Hidalgo County, TX.

Bronzed Cowbird anyone? There are hella around here now. This bird is superior to its more infamous, Brown-headed Cowbird. Part of that superiority stems from a male's bloated neck. Hidalgo County, TX.

See? It's actually a pretty cool bird. They often become incredibly inflated when there is a female around, and can remain that way for a long time, even in flight, which induces much humor. Willacy County, TX.

A Tower To All The Nicer Things You Could Have Been

Mr. Common Nighthawk. Sorry I'm close to your nest, but the Piping Plovers invited me over.

Lately a lot of people have been asking me about North Dakota lately. They give me weird looks when I tell them where I've spent the summer. It's completely understandable. The best company to keep was birds, and they helped keep my sanity. In fact, they were such good company, I went birding all the time...I can only stand being forced to watch Two And A Half Men for so long, you know what I'm saying? For your sake, I hope you don't.

Whiskey is a good coping mechanism, but you can only take that so far...

Chesnut-collared Longspur in the middle of its crippling flight display. Medicine Lake National Wildlife Refuge, MT.

Bobolink. He look real good.

Vesper Sparrow. Woo!

Black Tern, the feisty fashionista of the tern clan.

Hand Dragon.

A Swainson's Hawk receives hatred from a Red-winged Blackbird.

A spangly Solitary Sandpiper.

A heavily worn Franklin's Gull. It's hard for gulls to look good at the end of the summer.

Sunset over Lostwood National Wildlife Refuge. Goddamn.