It Just Shows to Go Ya

After a long, long week, I had made my resolution. I had charged my batteries, I had gassed up the car and pressed and starched my formal walkin' jeans. I was finally going to get out birding early and earnestly this weekend and...apparently I did something to offend the Anemoi or whoever oversees late April precipitation in central AZ. Saturday was rained out in the Sunflower/Mt. Ord area, and Sunday morning was still ominously overcast with occasional sprinkles.

Oh yes you'd like me to go back home and go to bed very much lazy part of me, wouldn't you? No! I was joined on Sunday morning by an esteemed coworker, Melanie, who had spent time in the field doing Kestrel Research, so double no backing down. Despite the crumby weather, we girded our loins and sallied forth. One doesn't simply gird one's loins and haul out in the morning only to turn around. It's just too long a process:

We made the right call of course, because bird activity was still relatively high for the chilly morning, and we even got occasional burst of sunlight through the fog. Not everyone was so eager to rise, case in point this mortgage-toting VG Swallow. 

The riparian and juniper scrub areas of Sunflower were rife with passerines, Bell's Vireo, LEGOs, empids, and Lucy's and Yellow Warblers out the ears. There were also numerous Summer Tanagers and Orioles, principally Hooded, some of whom were itchy. 

**Only now do I realize that Hooded Oriole, somehow, has never made an appearance on Butler's Birds before. I do not know how this is possible and do heartily apologize, because now all I have to offer are these distant or obscured birds. Just move along.

We picked up Zone-tailed and nesting Cooper's Hawks at Sunflower as before heading farther up to Mt. Ord, where the washed out road, the death of many the ill-prepared sedan before, was no match for our desire to get up into the clouds.
The yucca and oak scrub along the way is excellent for Black-chinned Sparrows earlier in the morning and Gray Vireos, a bird I once called nemesis but now call mutual acquaintance.

Is it just me or did this bird used to be considered 'near threatened' or something? Maybe I just imagined that part as all seems to be well and 'LC' now online. Certainly the Mt. Ord birds are hale and hearty.

Continuing our ascent, I had a moment of deja vu when we drove by, peripherally, an Eastern Kingbird-type flycatcher. This was in almost the exact same spot I thought I saw something like that last year while hurrying back down the mountain, but was unable to pursue as the bird flushed.
Of course, for an Eastern Kingbird to be here, much less two years in a row, would be ridiculous, but nothing else at all resembling such a bird would normally be here either.
We were more successful this time in pursuit and closure. Looking at this bird my thought was Greater Pewee, which was stupid, because this bird is much more likely an Olive-sided Flycatcher, a migrant I see too infrequently to remember as being fair game (cheer Steve).

Since it was still clouded over we did not bother to hike near the summit, but the lower FR nonetheless offered excellent Warblers, with Grace's, Hermit, Black-throated Gray, and Olive all making appearances, as well as an industrious Painted Redstart.

Better and more dedicated birders than I are turning up rarities down in SE AZ or getting face to face with amazing Owls inside impressively isolated county locales. I'm thinking that if I'm going to be inconsistent and deal with the overcast, I might as well just mosey on up to Oregon or something and explore there for a little while.

Ordinarily Good Birding

Maricopa County has its various birdy attractions throughout the year. Certain thrashers and sparrows come to mind in winter, while Cuckoos, Bitterns, and Rails tend to captivate the later summer interest. But as April runs into May, there's only one place to be in Maricopa: the tender, elevated, loving slopes  of Mt. Ord. After taking last weekend off from birding, due largely to hangover fall-out and from quite possibly the worst week of work ever, the trek up Mt. Ord was an overdue return. This was the case because many of the elevation breeders have now returned as well. The scrub lowlands were teeming with Sparrows as well as smaller numbers of the coveted Gray Vireo. 

Blue-gray Gnatcatchers and Black-throated Gray Warblers are by far the most common birds this time on year on Ord. Between those two names it sounds rather dour, but even if these birds are not bursting with color, they are bursting with song, or at least bursting with song-esque sorts of noises.

The juniper/pine/oak habitat hosts many other breeders, including WEBL, LEGO, WBNU, RBNU, JUTI, HETA, and VGSW. I was even fortunate enough to hear a Northern Pygmy-Owl tooting from somewhere out in this mess. The bird quieted down as I approached closer and I could not locate it, despite waiting in the area fro another 30 minutes. I don't even know why I am mentioning this failure. 

There were some vocal Grace's Warbler's mixed up in the canopy, jostling for position and prominence with Redstart and Hutton's Vireos. Yellow-throated or Grace's? Who wins in a beauty contest? Who wins in a fight? Who wins at bingo?

The old corral and water tank off FR 1688 was typically birdy, but otherwise the greatest concentrations of species were off from the main road nearer the summit of Ord, around 7,000 feet. Here I got more than an earful and less of an eyeful of the skulky Virginia's Warblers. It's ok; an eyeful of warbler sounds unpleasant anyway, makes one's eyes all black-throated blue.

There were also some holdover Cassin's Finches near the summit, and one weird-o finch hanging out on its own. It was bulkier and had more olive-green on its breast and supercilium. It looked pretty good for female Purple Finch is all I'm saying...but that would be very rare and I have no documentation, so I'm not actually saying anything.
Watching Violet-green Swallows streak through the blue sky atop Ord's summits never gets old. Trying to photograph them in flight does.

In other news, no one has re-found the Eared Quetzal since its original discovery on Friday, which is why I am writing this blog post, instead of affably losing myself in the Santa Rita Mountains. Things are getting pretty flavorful down there though, with Trogons moving onto territory and Sinaloa Wrens still ratcheting to such an extent that a desperate one-day weekend trip may be next on the cards. 

Chirps and Trills and Mountain Top Thrills

The early spring Gray Vireo photo hunt goes on, and may at this point just be postponed for a couple of weeks. But in contrast to this apparently defeatist admission, this weekend saw some fantastic birding with plenty of migrants and early-arriving spring/summer breeders moving through Mt. Ord. 

This is no ordinary site, after all, being the highest point in Maricopa County. The mid-level scrub and chaparral hosts plenty of Sparrows and what not, (and will soon host the GRVI in numbers even I can find), while the higher pines and oak entertain plenty of warblers, thrushes, and woodpeckers, lending a fantastic splash of color after a somewhat dreary March. 

I set out to Ord this weekend with Pops, planning on a quick look for any GRVIs and then a more thorough exploration of Forest Road 1688 and the summit. Of course, there were no GRVIs on the corral trail halfway up the mountain, but the Black-chinned Sparrows were singing in force.

We took the corral trail laterally along the mountain for about a mile, waiting both with dim hope for a Vireo call and also for the morning overcast to burn off. Chipping, White-crowned, Black-throated, Black-Chinned, Brewers, Rufous-crowned and Vesper Sparrows all made appearances or vocalizations at different points on this hike, and of course this sum total of emberizids was outnumbered by the all-conquering Spotted Towhees. The oddest sighting at this stage, though not exactly the most exciting, was a young Mockingbird that Pops picked out from its little perch just on the ridge. I'm not sure of the elevation here, maybe 3,000 feet or a bit under. At any rate, this is the highest point at which I've seen a Mockingbird. I don't know if that makes me weird or the bird weird. It certainly looked out of place, but then again I probably did too.

With the sun was still taking its sweet time to clear the Mazatzal ridge, we parked near the FR 1688 trail and were immediately greeted by the calls of Black-throated Gray Warblers as they staked out territory. Some of them were very determined, even menacing, with their sentry-duty.

The lower oaks were also inhabited by Kinglets and Scrub Jays, and of course Towhees, but the BTGRs were the most vocal bird as we started the gradual climb up FR 1688.

After a quarter mile or so and the first bout of ponderosa pine, FR 1688 opens up to a view of the west valley and also a steep slope covered in desert holly, scrub oak, and all kinds of other un-cuddly plants. Although we could still heard the BTGRs calling behind us, the dominant noise and motions now came from Blue-gray Gnatcatchers.

These birds were absurdly loud and active on the open, sunny stretches of FR 1688, and we actually continued to see them throughout the rest of the hike, even as we gained another 1,000 feet. No exaggeration, we even had them in the ponderosa occasionally, nearer the false peak where FR 1688 terminates. Gnatcatchers in pines...that's only supposed to happen in Florida. Even the boisterous Scrub Jays seemed taken aback by the Gnatcatcher industriousness.

Our forest road meander turned up Hairy Woodpeckers and Hutton's Vireos, along with a couple fly-by Rufous Hummingbirds and a plethora of Bewick's Wrens. We had no luck in the long-shot Pygmy Owls, but as we neared the end of the FR, where the trail terminated into stickery thorny things and a slope up to more oaks and a few mulberry-type trees we picked up renewed activity.
Fly-over Zone-tailed Hawk and Golden Eagle always give one a little rush, and the adrenaline continued as we picked up our first Redstart of the day, a preposterously good-looking bird. After continuing to scan through the mixed flocks and canopy movement--which turned up handsome Mountain Chickadees and Bridled Titmice--we saw something even more exciting.



What's more exciting than a Painted Redstart? Well, an FOY little gray bird with a yellow butt. We heard a Virginia's Warbler call once and had to do quite a bit of chasing and triangulating amid the steep terrain, loose rocks, and abrasive, shin-slashing vegetation, but finally we were able to pin this pesky little bird down, a photo-first for myself and a lifer for Pops.
Got the call, got the sighting, got the shot. Who needs eastern wood warblers (me actually, please)?

About half-way up the FR 1688 trail there's a turn off into the ponderosa, marked by a semi-permanent campfire circle. There's a game trail here that runs more or less parallel to the forest road but takes the birder through thicker pines and better birding, if one has already maxed out on the mountain side scrub-dwellers, which we had, or wants to escape the chronic, debilitating chattering of Bewick's Wrens, which we did. There were no Hermit Warblers but Hermit Thrushes and Western Bluebirds, along with Red and White-breasted Nuthatches continued the list-pumping.



After 400 yards or so the game trail dumps out around some water basins and an old cattle fence, and here a couple of sycamores, oaks, and other greenery provide exceptionally drawing habitat for the mountain birdies. We had two or three more Redstarts that were happily vocalizing when not busy naval-gazing...

...and an equally vocal Grace's Warbler, which we first picked out by its song and then picked out from its ponderous perch. This was another target warbler for our trek and a solid lifer for Pops. The Grace's is basically a slightly less cool Yellow-throated Warbler, but it's birds like these that will keep us Maricopians from unhealthily envying our eastern birder counterparts too much in the next couple of months.

This Grace's contributed to the overall Call of the Wild and its timing was impeccable, coincidental, or maybe even causal. Many people keep a list of bird's they've seen exercising their excretory systems. I keep the inverse, and if I may list boast for a moment I've got Vermilion Flycatcher, Gray Hawk, Elegant Trogon, Northern-beardless Tyrannulet, and now Grace's Warbler on mine (and in case your wondering, wetting one's pants at the sight of an awesome bird does not count, that'd be too easy!).

After attending our own respective calls, Pops and I made our way back to the car and finished the increasingly bumpy, treacherous drive to the summit of the Mt. Ord. 

The accessible road terminates maybe 3/4 of a mile from the ranger station and radio towers at the top, but while the gated road prevents vehicular progress, birders can happily progress continue along the road and without fear of hairpin traffic. Mt. Ord's summit provides lodging to hundreds of Violet-green Swallows, which are both beautiful and unusually prone to landing/perching as far as Swallows go. Later in the year this area is also fantastic for Hepatic and Western Tanager, and also for getting mutations from being too close to illegally high radio wave emissions.

Props to the Violet-green Swallow for being the only Swallow, other than Purple Martin, named for its physical characteristics and not where it typically lives (how would we like it if we were all named Home Body or Suburb So-and-So?).



While I was messing around with the Swallows and Dark-eyed Juncos along the road, Pops called out my favorite sighting of the day. Grayish body with some dull yellow on the wings, olivey-orange head...I think...I think...oh yeah!

Olive Warbler!!! This is just a fantastic bird, and one that we Arizonans must cherish. East of the Mississippi right now, there are probably dozens of face-melted birders recording 30+ warbler days, but none of them can also lay claim to this beauty. Alright so maybe I'm over-playing it and this bird isn't even in full plumage yet, plus it was shaded, but I still was pretty stoked. It had been far too long since laying eyes on this Peucedramid.

We were also treated to better looks at Grace's Warbler along the service road, which provides somewhat eye-level views of the ponderosa canopies growing adjacently downhill. The Amazing Grace's was joined by plenty for Black-throated Grays and some Bushtits.



As we beheld distant Roosevelt Lake from our 7,000 foot pedestal, we felt the warm fuzzy feeling that can only be kindled with a fantastic morning's birding. Such a glowing sense of accomplishment and success can only be improved upon with cold beer. And it was.