On the move

Maybe I am just lazy. Maybe I am impatient. Maybe I have an attention disorder. Maybe all of the above. I call this blog Drive-By Birding because that is what I do. I can spend an entire day driving around without being out of the vehicle for more than a few minutes at a time. And honestly, it usually takes something pretty special to make me stop and get out. Of course I have my favorite areas that I drive to with the intention of getting out to walk: the Magee Boardwalk, Sheldon, O'neill Woods, and Headlands Beach to name a few. But for the most part I like to keep moving, see what is in the area, photograph what I can and move on. If it wasn't for the GPS I would get lost a whole lot. I know most of the birding community like the Delorme Atlas as a way of finding their way, but I prefer the ease of pushing a few buttons and off I go, and unlike a human copilot, the little voice, "my little woman", that directs me is very rarely wrong. Occasionally she gets confused and has to "recalculate" and sometimes I just hit mute and disobey any direct orders and proceed on my way depending on what roads look like and what I see ahead of me.

The other day I decided to just drive. Not really a birding adventure, more of a need to listen to really loud music, break a few speed limits and feel, for the moment, like the white lines on the highway could lead me to a better frame of mind. This usually works for me, a few hours of rebellious escape, a case of Diet Coke, a few packs of smokes and a handful of snacks equal piece of mind. Well six hours later I was pretty far south and for the first time in a long time, I had no idea where I was. I had exited the highway somewhere south of Columbus and just kept driving westward when I noticed a flooded field full of ducks. It was late in the day and there were a lot of ducks, mallards, pintails, shovelers, ring-necks, gadwall, wigeon and course Canada geese. I parked off the road, got out and walked over to a small patch of phragmites near a power pole to partially conceal myself and set up the scope to get a better look at the gathering in the field. At the precise moment I focused on the first group of pintails every single bird in that field took to the air. I watched them all take flight in a wave across the field until the amber sky was full of ducks going in every direction, each making their own panicked sounds. That was when I looked back at the field and noticed seven rather good sized animals loping across the field where the ducks had been moments earlier. The wooded lot behind them must have been their cover but unfortunately I had missed the initial attack sequence.

Their tawny and gray fur glistened in the setting sunlight and their half open mouths gave way to sharp, shiny teeth. They were coyotes. I have seen them before in my travels. Pretty much always from the car while doing a drive-by. This was the first time I was out in the open with them. They knew I was there and I was instantly aware that the distance between me and them was a little closer than the distance between me and the car. They stood their ground for a moment. The lead canine looking directly at me while the others sniffed around and watched the cyclone of ducks and geese overhead. I suppose I should have been frightened. I guess I should have felt threatened. Of course all I could do was stare at them, at 20 yards away, in a state of awe and wonder. They looked soft but strong at the same time. They looked beautiful. And they looked big, especially this leader. I considered for a second trying to get my camera out of my pack but didn't really want to look away or make too much movement. The leader of the pack kept looking right at me as if waiting for me to make a move. I was remembering watching an Animal Planet show about animal attacks and what to do if presented with the unique opportunity of being approached by wild carnivores. Now what was I supposed to do? I couldn't really remember and kind of laughed at myself. My thought was to just wait it out and see what they did.

Three of them started to wander off back toward the wooded area behind them while two others began sniffing and moving in my direction. The leader and another just watched. Some of the ducks and geese were beginning to land in the far end of the field apparently satisfied that I was distracting their hunters. The two coyotes that were moving closer to me had cut the distance in half when the largest member began a slow walk towards me with his companion in tow. The next few seconds happened so fast I almost couldn't comprehend it. A flush of feathers and sharp, fast calls filled the thirty feet between me and the hunters. A half dozen Wilson's Snipe had been flushed from the soggy field between us where they apparently had the same 'wait it out' idea I had. The coyotes were distracted. Two of them leaped into the air trying to snatch the snipe in flight while the leader and the other ran and stopped short watching the birds swirl around. A part of me wanted to watch, but the larger part of me said it was time to move. I began to back away and then turned and moved quickly (okay, I ran like hell!) to the van. As soon as I got in I felt much better and scrambled to get my camera. The daylight was fading fast but maybe I could get a few quick shots of these awesome predators. By the time I was ready to go only the large leader and the smaller wingman were still there. They were standing right next to my scope but as I rolled down the window they began to move.

Content with my escape and safely in the vehicle I started the engine and watched as the remaining coyotes as they trotted into the field. Their retreat flushed a few more snipe and the ducks that had settled nervously farther afield. I pulled forward and got out to retrieve the scope while still watching the animals. The leader still watched me intently. With some silent sign, in unison all four of the coyotes lunged into the field back towards the woods. With a sigh, partially of relief and partially of regret, I packed up. I sat at the side of the road for a few minutes reliving what I had just witnessed. With a grin I thought that maybe drive-by birding really is the way to go. I pushed the Home button on the GPS and my little woman began directing me on my way.

Change on the wind....

It’s funny how fast things can change in both life and in nature. This has been a week of change and only time will tell what happens next. Coinciding with the change of seasons, these new developments may have gone unnoticed had I not been distracted. I have spent a lot of time outside this week whether driving to clear my head or walking and looking for a way to start fresh. With a pang of sadness I let go of the past and look to the future for a silver lining. One day at ease with everything; the next there is change is on the wind, blindsided by this new beginning.

For the most part I have enjoyed the winter. Winter for me is the familiarity of dark-eyed juncos silhouetted against a backdrop of fresh fallen snow and American tree sparrows that flutter through the bare branches and dried grasses of the winter landscape. It is the shortened days with bitter wind that blows the snow buntings around as effortlessly as dry leaves. Soon these winter visitors will sense the coming change and begin their journey northward; to mate, to breed, to rear, to begin again. The small things that I have taken for granted and the ins and outs of the daily grind wash away in the melting snow

But just as I prepare to say goodbye to another season, a new batch of old friends has already sensed the change. The days are longer and the weather is becoming milder. The twigs and branches have begun to swell, buds are forced from their winter nap and the ice has receded to open water and flowing streams. The dark bodies with a shock of red and yellow on the wing begin to call from dried reeds and power lines. The red-winged blackbirds are returning. With them come the grackles, the brown-headed cowbirds and the rusty blackbirds, aptly named for their call that mimics a rusty hinge on an old screen door. In flocks that darken the treetops and seem endless in the clear sky, they return, as if almost all of them at once until there are no marshy areas without the cacophony of calls. For me, it is the return of the blackbirds, all of the black birds, that opens the floodgates to spring and begin the change.

As if released from huge cages and set to soar, the turkey vultures return on March 15. Saturday the 14th we did not see a singe one in the trip from Cleveland to Toledo. On Sunday however, hardly a patch of sky was without them as many celebrated their return in Hinckley. Crows too are on the move, in large numbers at dusk while heading to their roost. Common golden-eye and ring necked ducks are in the open water of the marshes and lakes. Their black and white patterns reflect the gleaming sun making them easy to spot and observe. Double-crested cormorants are returning as well. Their slick black bodies and long bills cutting through the air and water like a knife and their wings spread in the sun while drying their feathers are a sure sign that better weather cannot be far off. American coot soon join them, their white bills a stark contrast to their dark bodies. The awkwardness of their movements and takeoff as they run across the surface of the water with their oversized feet is something that can’t help but to make me smile no matter how dark the mood. It’s almost here.

Other little changes and arrivals are making their debut this week. The first spring peepers began their chorus on the warmer nights only to be silenced when the mercury dropped. The “peent”ing sounds of the American woodcocks in their sky dance to find a mate at dusk and dawn are found in wet meadows around the area. The first snowdrops are up and blooming, setting the tone for the season to come.

It’s almost here, let the change begin and wash away the past. Ready or not, it is happening. I can either sit back and watch it unfold, or I can get out and let it renew my senses and loosen the tense coil that I find myself in. In a word, it is time to “spring”.

Day 3: March 9, 2009

We slept in a little on the third day only to be woken up by the blazing sun across the frozen Whitefish Bay outside our hotel window. This would be the final day of the trip and we were headed to see a few last places and make our way home. We started the day heading up to the very tip of the Whitefish Bay Point. Here the Whitefish Bay Bird Observatory was basically buried under snow with a sighting board visible that showed the last date as November 2008. Maybe in the spring...

On the way back we drove slowly down the road. A pair of small birds were picking away at salt on the side of the road. After closer inspection they turned out to be Red Crossbills. These little guys are hard to find and only show up in big invasion years. We watched them for a while and then continued on our way. A small flock of Redpolls fluttered about as we began to drive away and a single red breasted nuthatch flew down to the road ahead of us. The redpolls flew ahead of us as if leading us away. Lifebird # 6

A last second turn onto a snow covered road took us deep into the wooded area on the point. Deep green hemlocks and white birch trees enveloped the Tahoe and the eerie silence in the woods was only interrupted by the occasional song of a chickadee. The road dead ended in a cranberry bog where we turned around and headed back the way we came. As we drove slowly over the snow covered street, we peered into the trees to find any hidden birds or animals. (Still looking for that moose!). All of a sudden on our right, a beautiful roughed grouse was sitting in a tree not 15 feet from the car! We skidded to a halt and started snapping photos.

The grouse seemed oblivious and began to walk along the branch and pick at the buds with its beak giving us excellent looks at the bird. We watched this grouse for a little while and decided it was time to get some lunch. Lifebird # 7. Along this same stretch we added a male and female Pine Grosbeak to our ever growing list. Lifebird #8 The Grosbeaks were very large but moved too quickly to get any photos of them

We headed back up to the Upper Falls and the brewery for more excellent fish. We sat at a table in front of the windows where a large platform feeder was placed. Fox squirrels and a gray squirrel ate sunflower seeds from the ground and the feeder among 15-20 of the bluest Blue Jays we have ever seen. With their sharp crests and super blue colors creating a flurry of activity while we dined. A few brave Black Capped Chickadees joined in the fray as well while Raven and Crows flew around overhead. We finished lunch and started our homeward journey.

We drove a little while longer through a wooded area and found a few more Roughed grouse as we went and then crossed the bridge again. We drove back looking for Elk in the areas they were marked without seeing them. We stopped occasionally to stretch and and kept of moving. It was near dusk when we saw our last few sightings for the trip:

A Red Tailed Hawk sat perched along the highway looking for a snack.

A gorgeous adult Bald Eagle soared along the road giving us excellent views.

And just when you thought you have seen everything, I saw something up in a tree over the highway. A quick U-turn and then another took us back to the exact spot. As the daylight was beginning to fade we saw a real live porcupine in the top of a tree! What a way to end this spontaneous little trip. Fun times, good food, great company and excellent wildlife. I for one cannot wait to head back out to the U.P. to see what else is in store.

Location: UP
Observation date: 3/8/09
Notes: General count for the weekend in the UP area.
Number of species: 35
Common Merganser 5
Ruffed Grouse 4
Sharp-tailed Grouse 7
Wild Turkey 10
Bald Eagle 1
Rough-legged Hawk 1
Golden Eagle 1
gull sp. 10
Rock Pigeon 6
Mourning Dove 10
Snowy Owl 1
Northern Hawk Owl 1
Great Gray Owl 1
Downy Woodpecker 2
Pileated Woodpecker 2
Northern Shrike 2
Blue Jay 30
American Crow 100
Common Raven 100
Horned Lark 6
Black-capped Chickadee 50
Tufted Titmouse 6
Red-breasted Nuthatch 15
White-breasted Nuthatch 5
American Robin 1
American Tree Sparrow 4
Dark-eyed Junco 2
Snow Bunting 12
Pine Grosbeak 6
House Finch 2
Red Crossbill 2
White-winged Crossbill 50
Common Redpoll 100
Pine Siskin 3
House Sparrow 10

Day 2: March 8, 2009

The time change meant that we had gained an hour in the middle of the night. We got up early, had breakfast and headed out for our first day of dedicated birding. As the sun was rising in the clear blue skies we drove down to the the areas we had scouted the evening before. Driving slowly along the country road we paused and scanned the tree lines for our next target. After waiting a while we decided to drive a little further and turn onto a a side road to look in the next field. a quarter mile down the road I pulled the Tahoe to the side of the road and killed the engine. There it was, on the top of broken tree, just below the treeline.

Our Great Gray Owl. Silent and still it perched on the snag as the sun broke the horizon and spotlit this elusive boreal forest visitor. Its round facial disc, white mustache and bright yellow eyes stared at us across the fifty yard wide field and then seemed to care less that we were there.

As the sun began to rise we watched her bask in the warmth of the morning light occasionally looking straight at us and turning her head around to peer into the woods behind or the field below.





Smaller birds, chickadees and field sparrows, fluttered about in the scrub below as the silent hunter watched from her perch. Lifebird #2. As we watched, a flock of seven sharp tailed grouse wandered across the road in front of use before bursting into flight as I tried to slowly get out of the Tahoe to get a few better pictures. Lifebird #3. All of this before the sun had been up for an hour! It was going to be stellar day if this was just the beginning. We watched the owl for a little while more until it finally decided that it was tired of being out in the open. It spread its wings and descended to a lower branch in the woods behind it where it blended into the trees so well that if you took your eyes off of it for a second, it was invisible. We decided to start moving again and drove to the end of the road to turn around. Another sharp tailed grouse was spotted at the top of a tree as another carload of birders came slowly down the road and asked if we had seen the owl. Disappointed that they had missed it we offered to take the back to the area to try to help them find it in the trees. It took a few minutes to find it again. After about 10 minutes all of them had found here and we decided to move on.


We were driving down the country roads slowly while looking for other birds. Sharp tailed grouse were spotted in fields and along the sides of barns in the bright white snow. Three wild turkeys decided to cross the road in front of us affording great looks at them as they wandered off into the pines. On the top of a power pole we spotted a rough legged hawk and watched as it took flight and soared over the snowy landscape. It was a beautiful morning to be out in the field even though it was only 16 degrees. We drove on without a single car passing us for almost another hour. Redpolls seemed to be everywhere we looked; on the road, in trees and flying in small flocks as we startled them from their feeding. Clear blue skies and chilly temperatures didn't matter on this drive-by birding trip.

Following directions from an internet post we made our way to an area where another northern rarity had been spotted since January. We crept along the road until a car was behind us and I pulled over to let it pass. It was the birders we had shown the owl to. They waved and turned onto the road ahead, parked and all four jumped out of the vehicle. At the top of a tree, there it was: boreal forest owl #3 - a Northern Hawk Owl. A large broken branch was stuck into the snow bank by the side of the road as I took photos of this amazing bird at the top of the tree. I pulled in behind the other guys as one of them placed a fresh mouse on the end of the branch in the snow. Like a silent rocket the owl glided to the branch, grabbed the mouse and flew back to the trees to eat its "prey". Unbelievable. We drive around for an hour looking for this bird, these guys show up, put a mouse on a stick and wham! there it is. They waved me over and I joined them at the side of the road. Another mouse and another silent approach, this time sitting for a few minutes to subdue its feast before heading back to the trees. The owl was less than ten feet away. Lifebird #4. Too good to be true. We had followed some internet directions that were a month old and took a chance to see if these owls were still around. They were right where they said they would be, almost exactly. We had seen found them all and life was good. It was noon.

Now that our big targets were found we could ease up and just go wherever we decided to go. We went looking for more Snowy Owls but didn't find one. Then a large bird soared across the road and landed at the top of a pine tree. As we approached we got better looks. Size: 30-40 inches; Wingspan: 7 1/2 feet. Dark brown above with golden brown nape and white at base of tail. Large hooked bill. Feathered legs. Almost the size of a large bald eagle. Lifebird #5: Golden Eagle. A few fast pictures through the windshield were all I could manage before it took flight again. It soared over a field effortlessly as I got the scope on it to make sure we were right. Wing patterns confirmed it, we had a Golden Eagle. This one was an unexpected treat. Honestly, they all were. The posts I was following were more than a month old. A guy I chatted with up there said it was a little late to find the owl but wished us luck. Luck we had, and it stayed with us.

We drove west to Tahquamenon Falls State Park after a stop near the Mackinac bridge again to take some pictures. The park areal lies along the Whitefish Bay and is a hemlock, white pine, aspen and birch forest. The snow got deeper and the landscape became more and more like a wilderness the farther we drove. Flocks of redpolls, red breasted nuthatches and white winged cross bills were everywhere we looked. We looked, without luck for moose in this area. The locals say that they seem to spend the winters in the forest and emerge once the "melt" comes to eat the lichen from the trees. The black bears are still hibernating so no luck there either. We drove into a little town called Paradise on the shore of Lake Superior and were amazed at the snow that was there. Piles of snow 10 feet high or more were on the sides of the road. Drifts up to the gutters and roofs with feet of snow on them were everywhere. The preferred method of transportation seemed to be snowmobile although the roads were completely plowed and clear. They were everywhere, zipping along the sides of the roads and power line tracts.

We made reservations at a hotel in Paradise for the night and headed up to the Upper Falls to check them out. A short walk on the trail led us to the second biggest waterfall east of the Mississippi. The water roared over the falls into the frozen river below and icicles as long and big as a small plane clung to the sides of the cliffs. Chickadees twittered it the trees all around us and jays called out in the dense forest. The trail was packed with snow three feet deep which was evident by only the tops of benches and garbage cans sticking out. Footprints off to the sides of the trail confirmed that if you stepped off the path, you would be waist deep in snow. The smell of pine and a frosty chill in the air made you feel like you were somewhere much farther away than a six hour drive. the snow was as white as we have ever seen it and the ice was blue and clear. We checked into the hotel and decided to have dinner at the Camp 33 lodge at the upper falls. The rustic setting with taxidermy moose, elk, deer and wolves, roaring fire in the stone hearth and north woods lodge decor set the tone for a really great atmosphere. Dinner of fresh whitefish was amazing and at that point we decided to come back for lunch the next day.

Another amazing day was behind us after relaxing in the jacuzzi and heading to bed early. The next day would be our last and would hopefully be as good as the last two.

Birding the U.P. March 7-9

Day One-March 7, 2009

The Tahoe was loaded with luggage and enough snacks to feed a small army. The GPS was loaded with a few choice destinations and a pile of printed internet posts were on hand to help find our targets. We got up at 5 am, dressed for comfort and headed out before dawn with the hopes on being in the U.P. before sundown. (It is about a 6.5 hour drive to get to Sault Ste. Marie, but we made a few stops along the way and took our time.) It was pouring rain when we left but by the time we reached Magee Marsh in Ottawa County the sun was up and it was a little more clear. A quick pass through the marsh produced robins and red winged blackbirds calling from every stand of reeds, American tree sparrows and juncos, a few muskrats scurrying about, a northern harrier gliding over the eastern marsh and a single mink trotting along the western dike. The trip had started; bring on the wildlife!

Before we knew it we were into Michigan and heading over the I-275 bridge making our way to the upper peninsula. As we drove further north the rain gave way to blue skies and cooler temperatures. By the time we reached the southern end of the Mackinac Bridge on 75 it was crystal clear and breezy and there was snow on the ground again. We stopped to look at a series of giant windmills and a wilderness area right before the bridge. Flocks of common redpolls and good numbers of red breasted nuthatches greeted us along the road as we drove through. Not a bad start to add the Redpolls as lifebird #1 on the trip. By the time we got back to the bridge a chilly wind had picked up and a bank of fog had moved in making the 5 mile long bridge seem endless. The frozen lakes below us (The bridge crosses where Lake Huron and Lake Michigan meet.) looked like a moonscape with only the tracks of the ice cutter making its way through the ice below us. Kind of spooky up there, but really cool.

Following the GPS to our first exit in Rudyard, MI we got off the highway and began to drive along the country roads. There was still about a foot of snow blanketing the ground in this area. I began thinking that it might make it difficult to find our next target. We idled along the road as we scanned the posts, small piles of snow in the fields and rooftops of barns and sheds. A pile of cement blocks looked promising but nothing was perched on top. Just as we were passing the blocks I turned back for a last look. There in was in the bare grass where the wind had kept the snow from piling up. A gorgeous Snowy Owl. Staring at us from 40 feet away hunkered down out of the wind beside the blocks. I turned the Tahoe around and parked on the road so we could get a good look this northern beauty. Ooh's and Ahh's all around and a hundred or so shutter clicks later and we had added our first northern owl to the list. We continued to watch as the light faded and the the owl glided effortlessly out to the middle of the field to land on a wooden stump a few hundred yards away.
We scouted out a few other areas just as it was getting dark and made our way to Sault Ste. Marie to grab dinner and check into the hotel for the night. We had spent 13 hours in the car and all of us were pretty tired as we set the alarm for 6am the next day.