Birding Mongolia

 

Well not really, but rather the top of a mountain my brother was kind enough to take me to visit. While atop that mighty peak my Merlin app decided that I should identify birds in MOHRON which is evidently the language of Mongolia.

This was somewhat interesting, but because I spend so much of my time birding and know the app well, I could actually make it work, a good thing, as I didn't get it fixed until after I was home.

See, I had mentioned to my brother that I really wanted to go up Whiteface Mountain high in the top of the Adirondacks. This was partly because I hoped to experience a Bicknell's Thrush, but mostly because I had never been and I have a gleeful heart for the 'Dacks.

The ride up was worth the trip. Routes 8 and 9N abound with breath-catching vistas that come so fast you can barely keep up.

The mountain defies description. It is high, wild, and mighty. I even delighted in the elevator to the tippy top. I had hoped to climb the trail to the summit from the parking area, but about twelve steps up I decided discretion was the better part of valor...or in other words, I am too old for that stuff. 

The "easy" part of the trail to the summit, a resounding NOPE for me

Mike boldly went where sisters fear to go, while I was grateful to take the somewhat tamer route. But then again, just how tame is a tunnel that goes deep into a mountain with a 50.149 smoot high elevator at the end? (Since I visually estimate small distances in units of Ralph, I was tickled to discover smoots. 

The tunnel

I was thrilled by the top of the mountain, the sides of the mountain, the inside, outside and all sides of the mountain, but Mike had even more excitement in store for me.

The gondola ride at Little Whiteface was just down the road. As a kid I was terrified of fast, high, spinny, bouncy, scary carnival rides. I would go on the merry-go-round and that was about it. However, there must be some compensation for becoming ancient. I enjoyed that gondola ride insanely. I am sorry to say my video of same failed for some reason, but the sensation of soaring up sheer cliff faces on the way up, then gliding down into the valleys and ravines on the way down made me feel like an eagle slip-sliding through the sky. I hope I dream about it.

Boreal Chickadee

Then at the top, as I merrily explained to a lady who was asking about the birds we were hearing...Black-capped Chickadees and what I thought were Tufted Titmice...I pulled out my Mongolian Merlin to check out something else I was hearing, (probably a Golden-crowned Kinglet). However in my wild excitement I forgot to further pursue it. The "titmice" were Boreal Chickadees. We have spent the past several years chasing after them and there they were, a gift from the sky and my next younger brother. Life bird number 276.

So thanks Michael, thank-you mountain, and thank-you Maker of the Mountains.

It was a great day that I won't forget any time soon. I love Mongolia. Who knew?

Taking Pishing to a New Level

Blue-winged Warbler

 I have recently graduated to the level of pishing...making funny noises so birds come out to see what new mischief is afoot...where birds sometimes actually emerge to investigate, although not always. (Not even the majority of the time.)

However the weird sounds I can make have been known to get Barred Owls hooting way off the in the woods, and even to sometimes come floating up to the roadside to check me out. And I can almost always "get" a Song Sparrow or two. Plus Common Yellowthroats, the nosiest warblers in the bushes.

Ruby-throated Hummingbird in our garden

Today, I topped my ultimate best ever pishing effort and I am here to tell you I will never forget about it.

Ralph suggested that since the warblers are beginning to disperse and even to migrate  we go out to Lost Valley State Forest. He would wait in the car and I would walk the wild walk.

It was fun. I was able to tease out a couple of Blue-winged Warblers and almost got a woodpecker six-pack (no Pileated this time). 

The pond at Burbine Forest

About ninety minutes in I topped the big hill almost at the end and after catching my breath noticed a little rustle in the brush about four or five Ralph-lengths away from me. (I have long used the mental image of the length of multiples of Ralph stretched end-to-end to measure short distances in my head. Thus it was about four or maybe five times just under six feet....don't laugh...it works.)

Since I had been having White-tailed Deer stomping and barking at me since I got out of the car I tested my deer barking skills. Cough. Cough. Bark. I bark back at deer all the time. The thing began to move off...I thought it might be a bird as a few small branches were moving.

Thus I tried out my finest level of pishing. A bird did fly out and crossed the road maybe five or six Ralph lengths down the hill.

Another catbird. Dagnabbit. There must be a million of them.

 Right behind it was a Black Bear.

Yep, I was just a few husband lengths away from a bear I couldn't see.

Thankfully my incredible squeaking and hissing and barking-like-a-deer skills must have terrified it. It loped off down the hill as fast as if it were hot on the trail of a pic-a-nic basket.

I did not lope back to the car, but let me tell you, it did NOT take me an hour and a half to retrace my steps.

Oddly enough I grew up playing in the woods and have hiked many mountain trails and birded hard over our home county, plus the two adjacent ones and have only ever seen one other bear in the woods.

To my thinking that is enough.

Chestnut-sided Warbler

Camp Week

 

Common Yellowthroat at Benham Marsh

Was a mixed bag. Birding was phenomenal with 84 eventual species, a couple of great outings, one  with my BBB, Kris Harshman, and one with my favorite middle offspring, Becky.

Immature Green Heron at Cline Road Marsh

There were also the stairs from HELL.

Driveway of the same origin. It gave anything without topnotch four-wheel-drive that awful sinking feeling.

Neighbors about whom I will make no further comment.

Nearly perfect weather.

Sunrises to inspire poets to great flights of fancy.

Common Loons. One night they purred and chortled and chuckled and hooted all night long. It was a great delight to half-awaken to hear their secret conversations, then to drift off to dream of wild places remote from the real.

Car trouble, which put an end to the fun birding excursions.

Awful photo of a Canada Warbler

Canada Warblers.

Red crossbills.

Bonaparte's Gulls.

Broad-winged Hawk

We decided not to renew our reservation for next year unless they can get us into a north shore cabin with no HELL stairs. Becky and I both fell off them more than once. I am getting too old for that kind of sport. It made me sad though. We have been enjoying the lake since I was five or six...or possibly even younger, so it is a significant part of our family culture. I hope we can get into a safer, quieter cabin. Otherwise we will have to find something else to do.

Been debating whether this is a pure American
Black Duck or if there is some Mallard there. Lots of mutts on the
lake

Anyhow, back home now with the laundry all caught up and the garden beginning to give up its goodies for our suppers...fresh green beans last night with homegrown garlic and herbs and store-bought carrots and celery.

Sure good.

Many thanks to Becky for making camp possible and being the best of companions, to Ralph for taking care of our doggo and keeping the porch plants thriving...those hanging baskets can be a PIA...and to Kris for the crossbills and a really fun afternoon in the mountains. Also for super helpful camera tips, which upped my game immensely.

Grebes are Weird

A cheeky wee Pied-billed Grebe, thinking that
he is keeping his secrets from you

 I accidentally stumbled upon the fact that Western Grebe chicks have a yellow or grayish bare spot on their heads that turns bright red when they hungry and beg for food. It goes back to its normal color when crops are full.

The chicks are brooded on their parents' backs and fed there as well, rather than in the nest, which is mostly abandoned when they hatch. When one parent gets tired of "back brooding" it rises up in the water to dump the kids in the drink. They are able to swim to the other parent, which sometimes is generous enough to stick out a foot for them to use as a step to get aboard.

The parents feed feathers to the chicks right from the start.

Yum

The kids poop when they hit the water. Thus Mom and Dad flap their wings and dump them in the drink quite frequently. Can't say as I blame them. Beats changing diapers.

Red-necked Grebes on the mighty Mohawk

Late in the parenting sequence the adults often split the family and each take a portion off to feed. They get back together later. Maybe. 

I have never seen a Western Grebe and probably never will, but their sheer weirdness is a delight to me.

Which brings me to Pied-billed Grebes, which are not uncommon around here, and which I do see reasonably regularly and hear even more often. If you experience background sounds out in the marsh that make you think you are suddenly inside a Tarzan movie, there's a good chance it's Pied-billed Grebe. 

They are odd too. It is not abnormal for them to lay eggs into a cup in their nest platform that is barely at water level. Sometimes they are even laid in a puddle of water. Eggs don't care; they have a special coating. The parents gradually build the nest up and by the time they hatch the cup is no longer quite as wet.

Parents cover the incubating eggs with plant matter when they leave the nest and often stay away for prolonged periods, relying on the heat of decaying vegetation to keep the eggs warm (alligators anyone?)

My vocabulary word when reading about grebes is nidifugous. It means the little guys leave the nest soon after hatching. Once again they are back brooded. (If anyone knows how to pronounce it give me a call. I Googled it and found at least five entries on the first page...every single one of them was different. So I still don't know...)

Well-grown grebe chick

Anyhow, I love grebes. 

I have seen three species, Pied-billed, Red-Necked, and Horned. However, I have never been in a position to personally observe their babysitting (or maybe I should say baby dumping) behavior, so this information was obtained from Cornell's excellent resource, Birds of the World, which I highly recommend. It is like a college course that you study at your own speed, directed by your own interests. Personally, if I see an intriguing behavior or just wonder where a species migrates, or nests, or what they eat, or odd ways they care for chicks, I check it out. I even have a shortcut on my phone so I can learn in the field. 

You never know. I might learn useful new words like nidifugous, which might help me sound intelligent in birdy company, if only I could pronounce it.

Bye

Into the Wild

Scarlet Tanager

The boss and I adventure around the county on an almost daily basis. Early mornings often find us at our favorite birding hotspots, both official and personal. Yesterday though, we hit a trail...or I did while he waited...that we only visit a couple of times a year. This is not because it isn't birdy; I had a dozen species before I left the parking lot.

It's because it's wild. And also because I forget it is there even though two of our other favorite spots, the Schoharie Reserve and Sara Lib Road are right next to it.

Lost Valley State Forest...it lives up to its name. The road dead ends in a sort of a circular parking lot and a somewhat road-like trail leads out of same. The bugs are eager and able. Just in case you wondered, Blackfly season, which normally ends in July, is not over yet. Just breathe and they are your friends for life. They revel in the taste of Skin-so-Soft, and Repel, which are my insect deterrents of choice. They also revel in the taste of...me...but that's another story.

Chestnut-sided Warbler

We had a go at LVSF on my birthday. Alas the holiday had the woods full of the sounds of racing engines and general mayhem. I mean it sounded like a chainsaw convention in there, although I believe the noises were off-road vehicular, so I walked a few yards into the wild...not your usual woodland wild, but plenty wild all the same...and then retreated to the car.

Yesterday it was quiet except for bird song and the hungry whine of attacking insects. I thought casually to myself, as I have been considering black bears lately on my hikes, that this would be a good spot to encounter one. Lo and behold I immediately came upon some great big, very plain and clear tracks, right across I puddle I was muddling around. Then I noticed the scat. The track was fresh, the scat was probably from last fall...not much left but wads of reddish deer hair. It was well distributed though.

I am no expert. This could have come from a large coyote but...

These didn't

 

We don't visit LVSF during any of the hunting seasons because that seems just plain foolish.

Anyhow, I thought about chickening out and going back to the car, but I quickly noped that idea. There were birds all around, singing even this late in the breeding season, and I wanted to be out there counting, and hopefully photographing them.

Red-eyed Vireo

To cut to the chase, if there was a bear around it didn't want to see me any more than I wanted to see it. Scarlet Tanagers were another story. I encountered at least six, singing all around me. Their raspy calls were so ubiquitous that they became background noise. Then almost at the end of the trail I encountered a whole family, a ridiculously vibrant red-and-black male and a mess of greenish yellow young uns. They obligingly paused in a snag while i grabbed some photos with my new camera.

Eastern Wood Pewee

I ended up with 29 species, not a great number compared to spring when the warblers are passing through but not terrible for July. I made close acquaintance with the mosquitoes of the shade and the deerflies of the sunlight, as well as a lifetime supply of Common Yellowthroats, Veerys, and tons of other fun birds. I don't think they are birded much, as just a little bit of pishing brought them right out to scold me. List here. It's a fun place to hike if you are not an utter coward (like I usually am) and there is the added bonus of nice red raspberries here and there. 

Yard birding is becoming interesting again. Apparently the dispersion of birds from their nesting sites has begun and both a singing Eastern Towhee and a frantically foraging Blue-winged Warbler hit the yard yesterday. Today it began to rain just as I passed the front porch door this morning, so most likely we will not seek any excursions into the wild...maybe tomorrow. Have a great weekend.