Summer Carolina-ing

Another summer is wrapping up, at least in terms of vacation time, and as has come tradition now over the last three years, it's time to look back on some of the out-of-state vacation birds. An awesome May trip to Oregon yielded little real birding time and even fewer birds, and a couple weeks in Carolina was also preoccupied with many other worthwhile things, so in keeping with this year's new normal, there's not a lot to show for the birds, but we shall not go too quietly into that goodnight, not when the neighbors are obnoxious anyway.

Part of the birding dilemma in Carolina this summer was that I didn't get there until the doldrums of mid-July, which means the Warblers are as high as they are elevated, and most of the visible birds are immature caricatures--and before you ask, I did not get to the coast. One such bird that seems like a caricature but isn't is the Pileated Woodpecker, mightiest and punk rockiest of WPs this side of the Atlantic. 

Ever dutiful, I made one check-in trip to my local stomping ground in Washington, Carolina: Goose Creek SP, where one can get very crushy with PRWA and YTWA in June. Both of these warblers were scare to come by now, but a broody snapping turtle was pretty cool. By the way, you should watch this quick video of an alligator snapper biting a pineapple, and then never swim in murky water again. A young Pewee had no effect one way of the other. 

For part of Carolina time we stayed in the Asheville area, which truly does live up to its reputation for good brews, food, and music, and well as most exposed private parts per-park per-capita in the U.S. The proximity also enabled some lovely mountain hikes.

I'll quit whining about the lackluster birding, especially because the cataracts were 10/10.

 

Canada and Black-throated Green were the only Warblers I could pick up on the high trails (with a briefly vocalizing BTBW causing extra aggravation). That misty, haunting ridge forest, among the red fir and blankets of moss, is intoxicating nonetheless, and does still boast some vocal birds. Winter Wrens were seemingly everywhere along the trails, though getting them in decent light was yet another matter of inverse frequency.



The singular call of Veery was most welcome after a year away, and while some special sneaking was still required, I actually had much better views of this species than in previous years. 




 My salamander game was weak this time around, but how about a peeping Garter?



Although I couldn't materialize Eastern Screech-Owl, some of the best overall birding was in the relative lowlands around the property in the Asheville area. Indigo Buntings do not seem to stop singing...like ever. They were singing away on top of Mt. Mitchell, the highest point east of the Mississippi, and singing away in even greater numbers along the yard-side woodlands. Matching them in sound if not by sight were Field Sparrows. They deserve respect to...I guess.




The best sighting of the trip was a Scarlet Tanager couple, a species I had only seen once before, and poorly, as a vagrant in Arizona. I had all of about 5 seconds in the rain with this bird at eye level but good gracious gravy what a looker. I don't even mind anymore that I've had to wait like 6 years and many east-coast trips to see this bird again. All is forgiven for your scarlet letter, Natanager Scawthorne.

How often does one get up close and personal with a Luna Moth? Not often in my case, so that was also cool.
But you're thinking, "Butler, you kiss-ass namby pamby, what is with this vacationing and no birds? We want better. We deserve better. We're already dealing with the 2016 election depression, Chinese aggression and destabilization in Europe, a lackluster Olympics, and now this pablum!? You are a cad and in better days, would hang by the neck until dead."
Well, I agree, and this weekend is a birthday weekend, which means I can go birding in SE AZ and not no one can stop me not no how. Solid.

 

Hustlin' Hassayampa

An hour northwest of Phoenix but still within Maricopa County is a totally sweet birding spot. The Hassayampa River Preserve is a beautiful and well-known riparian area fed by underground springs that make up the Hassayampa corridor. It's a fabulous birding site, far more fabulous than my subsequent photos will demonstrate, as migrating Black Hawks, nesting Gray Hawks, and tons of passerines turning up there every spring. Recently there have been impressive sightings of Williamsons's Sapsucker, Downy Woodpecker, Winter Wren, and in the past few years it has also hosted cool vagrants like Dickcissel and Green Kingfisher.

Here is the view from Lyke's Lookout, a tidy little hill west of the visitor center. This big strand of green is visible flying into Arizona from California and is one of the most extensive and densely foliated riparian channels in the state.



Unfortunately, I have only birded hew a few times. One big reason for my negligence is that the hour of driving must take place on Grand Avenue, a perverted freeway still possessing numerous traffic lights and speeding cameras, along with lots of aloof drivers. Grand Avenue is literally my least favorite place to drive in Arizona. It also has an entry fee ($5 isn't too steep though) and is closed on Mondays and Tuesdays. At any rate, my recent trip there was a reminder of how truly special this site is, and I promise to be more dutiful to it in the future.

At about 6:30am I met up with Tommy DeBardeleben, also known as the Mayor of Maricopa for his exploits in Maricopa County birding and blogging. If you've ever google-searched a birding site in central Arizona and been to this website, Tommy is to thank, and if you haven't, well, then you really should visit it. Anyway, he had clued me into a report of Williamson's Sapsucker at the preserve, a bird I was planning to chase at Boyce Thompson Arboretum but which had not been relocated there for a couple of days. We started our morning of birding at the Hassyampa rest stop, which is about two miles southeast of the actual preserve and is one of the best places to see concentrated Vermilion Flycatchers doing their thing.



Their thing is basically limited to perching and being gorgeous, devouring flies, and chasing each other around while trying to also perform flight displays. It was funny to watch all of these birds, because the males would perform their twittering fluttering flight displays for the ladies, and then also chase them away if they got too close to the favored perches. Life is full of angst for these birds. Can't have it both ways...

The Hassayampa Preserve opens at 8am, and for the next three hours or so we scanned cottonwoods, chased after shadows, and saw a lot of cool birds on the way to never actually finding the Sapsucker. Flocks of Lawrence's Goldfinches, calling Gray Hawks, and one flushed Black Hawk made for an excellent morning, even with our target bird a no-show. We did get some nice looks and vocalizations from an over-wintering Scarlet Tanager too, and I am ashamed to admit that this is the best photo I've managed of this canopy-craving species. Blotchy and pale...this bird is a mockery of the true Tanager form, but maybe he'll turn up again when he's more sexy.

In the vein of getting poor photos that are still better than anything else I'd managed, we also relocated a  tiny Winter Wren that Tommy had discovered at Hassayampa a while back. Yup, this grainy, twig-heavy shot is another personal best. Winter Wren played right into our hands...

By 11am, we were starting to feel that the Sapsucker would be a no-show, and the rest of the day's testimonials proved that this ultimately was the case. During this period we had also developed an unhealthy annoyance, even anger, against the numerous, distracting, false-hope-giving Ladder-backed Woodpeckers frequenting the same haunt as the Sapsucker. So that we could still take something great from the afternoon and not swear a vendetta against Ladder-backs, we swung by the private residence of another birder friend who has hosted a wintering Orchard Oriole for the last several years. Nothing about this occurrence and this sighting wasn't weird, but nothing about it wasn't awesome either.

Rather unbelievably, my first and only Oriole of 2013 is an Orchard, seen in central Arizona. For the next few months the birding will only get better and better at Hassayampa, and I intend to return soon. There's always great scenery and seemingly some rarity to chase too, even if you have to drive down (not so) Grand Avenue to get there (*note: there are alternative routes).