Farnboro John
Well-known member
Jeez.... I hope you don't think I'm going to drag this out to make sure!
Hope its not long delayed, think of those smalls fermenting....
John
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Travels with Mildred (In search of Canis lupus) (2 Viewers)
- Thread starter Farnboro John
- Start date
Jeez.... I hope you don't think I'm going to drag this out to make sure!
Hope its not long delayed, think of those smalls fermenting....
John
Farnboro John
Well-known member
So there we are on a gravel road and birds are whizzing about in the sagebrush and NONE of them ever land on top of it: its UP, fly fly fly, DIVE! This is particularly true of what seems to be a thrasher, but then one sits up nicely and quick as a flash Jeff grabs his camera, which promptly gets caught on something eliciting a growl of "f***ing straps!" which becomes something of a litany for the fortnight. This is a momentary problem and soon enough the rattle of a DSLR that causes so much angst among BFers in hides is being lost in the wide open spaces of Colorado. The Sage Thrasher poses nicely until Steve tries to line his camera up from the wrong side of the car and then dives for cover.
This leads to a game of hide and seek as the Sage Thrasher seems perfectly happy to sit up except when there is some chance of Steve getting a shot. I got some pix, Jeff got more, but Steve just couldn't quite make the angles. Aftger some effort we also managed to nail Brewer's Sparrow for the list and even got photos of one that didn't dive for cover quite as quickly as the others.
We moved on a bit and found a White-tailed Prairie Dog sitting upright more or less in the open except for a couple of twigs. After the previous mistake I had checked the guide quite thoroughly (even reading the main text, shock horror) and found out that White-tailed Prairie Dog towns are less densely dug and less "organised." This area fitted the description perfectly, even if the white tail hadn't been obvious - which it was. More photos, and nice views of a Horned Lark with a juvenile pottering in the short grass near the prairie dog burrow.and then a ground squirrel skitters about on the right hand side of the track and comes out to also pose on the edge of the track on its haunches. According to the field guide range maps this must be Wyoming Ground Squirrel. We got out for a look around and I found a very distant and heat-haze blurred Pronghorn. A wider scan revealed a few more including some that were a bit closer, which was good value. I assured the guys we would see plenty more, better: not something I was worried about. This was not received with total confidence.
Nearby there were a couple of lakes that clearly must provide a wildlife focus, so we set off to have a closer look at them. The first had American Wigeon and Green-winged Teal but not much else. The second, however, had quite a few shorebirds and other bits so out we hopped again and went for a short walk. Huge White Pelicans thundered overhead, strange things to see in the desert even with a couple of small lakes, surely? A couple of Lesser Yellowlegs were stalking the shallows but were outnumbered by Wilson's Phalaropes, the nearest in full juvenile plumage that I had never seen before.
American Coots and even a Pied-billed Grebe were also present, so the lake must be deeper than just the shallow pan I had taken it for. A Willet flew past and made for the far end of the lake: a Greater Yellowlegs appeared; a Killdeer was found on the exposed mud at the edge of the lake.
Aquatic mammal! I focused my bins and called "Muskrat!" It dived almost instantly, but it was only a matter of waiting for it to come back up in order to get views and pictures. Excellent! There were several Black-necked Grebe nests on the lake, and a number of Common Nighthawks were feeding over the area despite it being broad daylight.
We had to move on again, a bit reluctantly as we all had a feeling there was more to be had in this place. I would definitely recommend it as a stop if you happen to be passing!
The remainder of the day consisted of solid driving up to Rawlins for our overnight stop. On the way I made the worst mis-ID of the trip so far when I claimed a herd of non-black cows: the boys went into hysterics as I was looking at horses. We managed to pin the ID of the vertical-tailed chipmunks as Least Chipmunks. We had good views of Swainson's Hawk on a telegraph pole, and nearly had mega views of a Prairie Falcon, baulked by a thunderously farty Harley whose exhaust noise flushed it fromits roadside fencepost.
Several American Kestrels and Mourning Doves showed indifferently, then we had brief but memorable views of a large, bright Red Fox with both black and white to the tip of its ample brush. Jeff saw a woodpecker cross the road (why did the woodpecker cross the road?) and we stopped to find it was a Red-naped Sapsucker and in fact there was more than one. An adult and a juvenile sat up on yet another telegraph pole giving excellent close views. The last birds of the day were Red-winged Blackbirds.
When we reached the motel it took a while to sort out the booking as the desk man was as mad as a box of frogs. There was also a very strong smell of chili which was a bit offputting. We walked along to a very nearby restaurant/bar and grill for dinner, which was OK and accompanied by pretty good beer.
We actually called the log for the day, a practice which lasted about three days before sheer lack of energy cut it off. After that I compiled it from my notebook each day but I may well not have captured all species seen by individuals rather than the whole team. No doubt Steve and Jeff will comment when necessary.
John
This leads to a game of hide and seek as the Sage Thrasher seems perfectly happy to sit up except when there is some chance of Steve getting a shot. I got some pix, Jeff got more, but Steve just couldn't quite make the angles. Aftger some effort we also managed to nail Brewer's Sparrow for the list and even got photos of one that didn't dive for cover quite as quickly as the others.
We moved on a bit and found a White-tailed Prairie Dog sitting upright more or less in the open except for a couple of twigs. After the previous mistake I had checked the guide quite thoroughly (even reading the main text, shock horror) and found out that White-tailed Prairie Dog towns are less densely dug and less "organised." This area fitted the description perfectly, even if the white tail hadn't been obvious - which it was. More photos, and nice views of a Horned Lark with a juvenile pottering in the short grass near the prairie dog burrow.and then a ground squirrel skitters about on the right hand side of the track and comes out to also pose on the edge of the track on its haunches. According to the field guide range maps this must be Wyoming Ground Squirrel. We got out for a look around and I found a very distant and heat-haze blurred Pronghorn. A wider scan revealed a few more including some that were a bit closer, which was good value. I assured the guys we would see plenty more, better: not something I was worried about. This was not received with total confidence.
Nearby there were a couple of lakes that clearly must provide a wildlife focus, so we set off to have a closer look at them. The first had American Wigeon and Green-winged Teal but not much else. The second, however, had quite a few shorebirds and other bits so out we hopped again and went for a short walk. Huge White Pelicans thundered overhead, strange things to see in the desert even with a couple of small lakes, surely? A couple of Lesser Yellowlegs were stalking the shallows but were outnumbered by Wilson's Phalaropes, the nearest in full juvenile plumage that I had never seen before.
American Coots and even a Pied-billed Grebe were also present, so the lake must be deeper than just the shallow pan I had taken it for. A Willet flew past and made for the far end of the lake: a Greater Yellowlegs appeared; a Killdeer was found on the exposed mud at the edge of the lake.
Aquatic mammal! I focused my bins and called "Muskrat!" It dived almost instantly, but it was only a matter of waiting for it to come back up in order to get views and pictures. Excellent! There were several Black-necked Grebe nests on the lake, and a number of Common Nighthawks were feeding over the area despite it being broad daylight.
We had to move on again, a bit reluctantly as we all had a feeling there was more to be had in this place. I would definitely recommend it as a stop if you happen to be passing!
The remainder of the day consisted of solid driving up to Rawlins for our overnight stop. On the way I made the worst mis-ID of the trip so far when I claimed a herd of non-black cows: the boys went into hysterics as I was looking at horses. We managed to pin the ID of the vertical-tailed chipmunks as Least Chipmunks. We had good views of Swainson's Hawk on a telegraph pole, and nearly had mega views of a Prairie Falcon, baulked by a thunderously farty Harley whose exhaust noise flushed it fromits roadside fencepost.
Several American Kestrels and Mourning Doves showed indifferently, then we had brief but memorable views of a large, bright Red Fox with both black and white to the tip of its ample brush. Jeff saw a woodpecker cross the road (why did the woodpecker cross the road?) and we stopped to find it was a Red-naped Sapsucker and in fact there was more than one. An adult and a juvenile sat up on yet another telegraph pole giving excellent close views. The last birds of the day were Red-winged Blackbirds.
When we reached the motel it took a while to sort out the booking as the desk man was as mad as a box of frogs. There was also a very strong smell of chili which was a bit offputting. We walked along to a very nearby restaurant/bar and grill for dinner, which was OK and accompanied by pretty good beer.
We actually called the log for the day, a practice which lasted about three days before sheer lack of energy cut it off. After that I compiled it from my notebook each day but I may well not have captured all species seen by individuals rather than the whole team. No doubt Steve and Jeff will comment when necessary.
John
Farnboro John
Well-known member
Lets finish the day off pix-wise:
Sagebrush country
White-tailed Prairie Dog
Wyoming Ground Squirrel
Muskrat
John
Sagebrush country
White-tailed Prairie Dog
Wyoming Ground Squirrel
Muskrat
John
Attachments
Farnboro John
Well-known member
Farnboro John
Well-known member
The following morning I was up and out quickly and gazing about for more birds. A flight of Turkey Vultures was hanging on a fairly substantial cool breeze over a nearby hill: other than that the local birds were House Sparrows, Starlings, Feral Pigeons and Collared Doves. This was not what I came to America for! An American Herring Gull was some way into the right direction, but the bird list wasn't going up quickly.
This was destined to be very much a travelling day with the best anticipated birding at journey's end, so we got on with it intending to get breakfast at one of the towns on the way. As the ruler-straight road opened up before us (who'd have thought the Roman road-builders got this far?) and rumbles began to be audible in the cockpit of our Dodge Super Caravan we began to wonder just how big the gaps between the towns were going to be.....
After the previous day's blue skies and sunshine it was also disappointing that we had overcast and the threat of showers around us: by and large though they stayed away, though we passed through areas where the road was wet.
Eventually we saw a roadside diner that was open (having passed a couple that were not) and piled in, to find we were in, effectively, a Ghost Town. Jeffrey City was originally called Home on the Range (honestly) but was renamed by a grateful citizenry for the man that opened the uranium mine and brought prosperity. When the mine closed in the Nineties the town faded rapidly to its present state of a few shacks and trailers in a wilderness of sagebrush.
A Pronghorn was feeding on the far side of the road and we passed the time while waiting for our food to arrive by nipping out to photograph it. It was a nice male with plenty of black on the face, but there was no escaping the presence in the background of a substantial wire fence, which was not ideal.
Breakfast arrived. They do cruel and unusual things to bacon in the USA: generally it is cooked to within an inch of edibility but this stuff had been absolutely cremated. You could have used it as a karate star. However the remainder of the meal was good honest basic food and plenty of it for the money, so we filled up and then went birding around the area, first on foot and then by car. The locals came and checked us out, pretending they were actually just passers-by making conversation - but I had seen them come out of their trailer and make straight for us. Additionally after five minutes they came back past us, giving us the eye, and then returned to the trailer. Very odd. There wasn't anything for miles worth nicking.
None of which detracted from our first bird-burst. There were many sparrows: both Lark Sparrows and Vesper Sparrows, plus the sparrow-like Lark Bunting. A family group of Mountain Bluebirds was hopping about and a Nighthawk was perched on a metal railing near some seemingly abandoned cars and trucks. American Robins and Swallows were also present, but a Desert Cottontail sitting on a breezeblock that was holding up a trailer corner was a nice addition to the mammal list and proved very confiding.
Back in the car we headed for the clapboard church and added Western Kingbird and Say's Phoebe to the day list and one or two life lists. Then it was off across the countryside again until we found a rest area that looked quite green in the generally pale arid landscape. Here we had Brewer's Blackbirds robbing bins, Cliff Swallows racing past us at head height and even a Great Blue Heron over near the small creek winding near the road. A deer in among the low bushes near some more dilapidated shacks and trailers proved to be White-tailed Deer, continuing our ungulate success.
After that it really was a case of grinding out the miles towards the day's destination of DuBois, where we had been told the river holds American Dipper. The landscape varied only a little, between sagebrush and a bit of grassland close to any rivers and creeks. Most of the area was given over to very low-density cattle ranching: the more lush bits held horses.
Just before reaching DuBois we checked out a track to a reserve area but without finding much: a female Mule Deer with two spotty fawns, a Belted Kingfisher and a couple of Tree Swallows were about it. Back by the river at the main road, however, we stoped for a perched Osprey and added Eastern Kingbird: a second stop provided us with Uinta Chipmunk among creek-side willows. Unfortunately this little animal was too quick for my camera. We decided to go and book in, then return for a second go at this spot.
John
This was destined to be very much a travelling day with the best anticipated birding at journey's end, so we got on with it intending to get breakfast at one of the towns on the way. As the ruler-straight road opened up before us (who'd have thought the Roman road-builders got this far?) and rumbles began to be audible in the cockpit of our Dodge Super Caravan we began to wonder just how big the gaps between the towns were going to be.....
After the previous day's blue skies and sunshine it was also disappointing that we had overcast and the threat of showers around us: by and large though they stayed away, though we passed through areas where the road was wet.
Eventually we saw a roadside diner that was open (having passed a couple that were not) and piled in, to find we were in, effectively, a Ghost Town. Jeffrey City was originally called Home on the Range (honestly) but was renamed by a grateful citizenry for the man that opened the uranium mine and brought prosperity. When the mine closed in the Nineties the town faded rapidly to its present state of a few shacks and trailers in a wilderness of sagebrush.
A Pronghorn was feeding on the far side of the road and we passed the time while waiting for our food to arrive by nipping out to photograph it. It was a nice male with plenty of black on the face, but there was no escaping the presence in the background of a substantial wire fence, which was not ideal.
Breakfast arrived. They do cruel and unusual things to bacon in the USA: generally it is cooked to within an inch of edibility but this stuff had been absolutely cremated. You could have used it as a karate star. However the remainder of the meal was good honest basic food and plenty of it for the money, so we filled up and then went birding around the area, first on foot and then by car. The locals came and checked us out, pretending they were actually just passers-by making conversation - but I had seen them come out of their trailer and make straight for us. Additionally after five minutes they came back past us, giving us the eye, and then returned to the trailer. Very odd. There wasn't anything for miles worth nicking.
None of which detracted from our first bird-burst. There were many sparrows: both Lark Sparrows and Vesper Sparrows, plus the sparrow-like Lark Bunting. A family group of Mountain Bluebirds was hopping about and a Nighthawk was perched on a metal railing near some seemingly abandoned cars and trucks. American Robins and Swallows were also present, but a Desert Cottontail sitting on a breezeblock that was holding up a trailer corner was a nice addition to the mammal list and proved very confiding.
Back in the car we headed for the clapboard church and added Western Kingbird and Say's Phoebe to the day list and one or two life lists. Then it was off across the countryside again until we found a rest area that looked quite green in the generally pale arid landscape. Here we had Brewer's Blackbirds robbing bins, Cliff Swallows racing past us at head height and even a Great Blue Heron over near the small creek winding near the road. A deer in among the low bushes near some more dilapidated shacks and trailers proved to be White-tailed Deer, continuing our ungulate success.
After that it really was a case of grinding out the miles towards the day's destination of DuBois, where we had been told the river holds American Dipper. The landscape varied only a little, between sagebrush and a bit of grassland close to any rivers and creeks. Most of the area was given over to very low-density cattle ranching: the more lush bits held horses.
Just before reaching DuBois we checked out a track to a reserve area but without finding much: a female Mule Deer with two spotty fawns, a Belted Kingfisher and a couple of Tree Swallows were about it. Back by the river at the main road, however, we stoped for a perched Osprey and added Eastern Kingbird: a second stop provided us with Uinta Chipmunk among creek-side willows. Unfortunately this little animal was too quick for my camera. We decided to go and book in, then return for a second go at this spot.
John
MKinHK
Mike Kilburn
Neighbours don't like you in a rest-stop like that and think you might be "the pigs" you may well end up as the next round of bacon . . . which leads me to suspect that the reason its cooked solid is to the hide the flavour . . .
That phalarope would certainly give me pause.
Cheers
Mike
That phalarope would certainly give me pause.
Cheers
Mike
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Mysticete
Well-known member
two quick notes:
one, MSW 3rd edition as well as the Handbook of Mammal of the World treat Moose as two species, with North American/East Siberian Moose split from European "Elk" or whatever common name that form has. Just mentioning because I thought you might have seen "Moose" in Finland or such as well.
On gulls, did you pick up California Gull on the trip? My experience in Wyoming is that American Herring is uncommon compared to California, with California the "default" gull. Just figured I would throw that out there in case you might have missed a potential lifer gull, since gulls suck and all.
one, MSW 3rd edition as well as the Handbook of Mammal of the World treat Moose as two species, with North American/East Siberian Moose split from European "Elk" or whatever common name that form has. Just mentioning because I thought you might have seen "Moose" in Finland or such as well.
On gulls, did you pick up California Gull on the trip? My experience in Wyoming is that American Herring is uncommon compared to California, with California the "default" gull. Just figured I would throw that out there in case you might have missed a potential lifer gull, since gulls suck and all.
Steve Babbs
Well-known member
Mysticete thanks for the tips. We did see California gull and did find it to be the common one. I'm very interested in your comments about Moose; I'm looking at HMW now and it seems to have one species: Alces alces with several sub-species.
Mysticete
Well-known member
I will have to check HMW...it's possible I am mixing things up with Colin' Groves book
However MSW 3rd edition still treats Alces alces as separate species from A. americanus
"Differs from A. americanus in karyotype, body dimensions and proportions, form of premaxilla, colouration, and structure and dimensions of antlers (Boyeskorov, 1999; Geist, 1998)."
However MSW 3rd edition still treats Alces alces as separate species from A. americanus
"Differs from A. americanus in karyotype, body dimensions and proportions, form of premaxilla, colouration, and structure and dimensions of antlers (Boyeskorov, 1999; Geist, 1998)."
Farnboro John
Well-known member
Quick photo catch-up and then I'll crack on again.
Road
Pronghorn
Desert Cottontail X 2
Vesper Sparrow
John
Road
Pronghorn
Desert Cottontail X 2
Vesper Sparrow
John
Attachments
Farnboro John
Well-known member
And a few more:
Say's Phoebe
Common Nighthawk
White-tailed Deer
Brewer's Blackbird
Mesa (actually I'm not sure this is flat-topped enough to qualify but its good enough for me. The tawny grass is representative of the climate - the irrigation frame and bright green, of the means to enable agriculture. If it won't happen naturally, brute-force it.)
John
Say's Phoebe
Common Nighthawk
White-tailed Deer
Brewer's Blackbird
Mesa (actually I'm not sure this is flat-topped enough to qualify but its good enough for me. The tawny grass is representative of the climate - the irrigation frame and bright green, of the means to enable agriculture. If it won't happen naturally, brute-force it.)
John
Attachments
Farnboro John
Well-known member
Mildred took us right to the door of the motel and there was no problem about booking in. However, as we moved our gear into the rooms the rain started and we decided there was no point going back out till it at least looked like stopping.
While waiting for that I busied myself with a male American Robin that was feeding on the lawn. Despite a few moments irritation with the 7d having changed itself into manual mode without instruction from me and cocked up (technical term) the first few minutes' pictures, I got a few shots and then found its nest behind the motel office. I watched the female going in and out from a suitable distance but didn't attempt any photography.
Eventually the rain did stop and we returned to the riverside site we had already tried. It had some flycatchers which after some head-scratching we decided were Western Wood Pewees (stupid name), a rabbit we couldn't find any identifying features on, and a couple of Yellow Warblers being both distant and elusive.
We also had an American Goldfinch which Marion described as being at 12 o' clock and then amended to "12 o' clock from me" a phrase which produced one of the running gags of the trip but miraculously no violence. We all saw the Goldfinch, which flew just as all lenses began to focus.It was at about this point that a snake was found in brush around some rocks, causing an instant jump backwards from me until we identified it as a Western Terrestrial Garter Snake. No doubt it was terrified of our great clodhopping feet: certainly it wouldn't come out to be photographed.
We tried a few more spots along the river, encountering some fishermen sporting respectively a large automatic pistol and a proper Colt 45 revolver with the 7.5 inch Cavalry barrel. Steve was absolutely bemused by the idea that someone would go fishing with a handgun, but in a land with bears and mountain lions one at least of which would be attracted to the smell of fish, it seemed to me perfectly logical. Bird-wise we only added a Hairy Woodpecker: however, scanning the ridges above us in the vain hope of finding a cat of any size out of cover produced a small herd of Bighorn Sheep grazing among sagebrush above the heavily eroded sandstone cliffs.
Back in town we went in search of dinner and initially rejected the idea of queuing at the Cowboy Cafe in favour of walking into the Paya Deli. This was a mistake, and don't any of you make the same one if you happen to be passing through DuBois: the Cowboy Cafe is the place to eat, as we decided after sitting unattended in the other place for some time and being completely ignored. We eventually figured there was a private party going on but at least they could have told us so! Null points.
We then queued, got a table after ten minutes or so, and were then treated very well, not least because the entire staff wanted to experience the Brits' accents - they all managed to give us at least a couple of minutes of their attention during our meal. We knocked off for the night having already decided where we would be breakfasting the next day.
John
PS: I forgot to mention the following exchange which demonstrates the difficulty of conversing in English in the USA:
Waiter: Do you want your dessert a la mode?
Steve: No, I don't want my icecream warmed.
Waiter: So you want your pie cold?
This might have gone on for some time had the rest of us not intervened to interpret. Just to obtain hot apple pie with cold icecream!
While waiting for that I busied myself with a male American Robin that was feeding on the lawn. Despite a few moments irritation with the 7d having changed itself into manual mode without instruction from me and cocked up (technical term) the first few minutes' pictures, I got a few shots and then found its nest behind the motel office. I watched the female going in and out from a suitable distance but didn't attempt any photography.
Eventually the rain did stop and we returned to the riverside site we had already tried. It had some flycatchers which after some head-scratching we decided were Western Wood Pewees (stupid name), a rabbit we couldn't find any identifying features on, and a couple of Yellow Warblers being both distant and elusive.
We also had an American Goldfinch which Marion described as being at 12 o' clock and then amended to "12 o' clock from me" a phrase which produced one of the running gags of the trip but miraculously no violence. We all saw the Goldfinch, which flew just as all lenses began to focus.It was at about this point that a snake was found in brush around some rocks, causing an instant jump backwards from me until we identified it as a Western Terrestrial Garter Snake. No doubt it was terrified of our great clodhopping feet: certainly it wouldn't come out to be photographed.
We tried a few more spots along the river, encountering some fishermen sporting respectively a large automatic pistol and a proper Colt 45 revolver with the 7.5 inch Cavalry barrel. Steve was absolutely bemused by the idea that someone would go fishing with a handgun, but in a land with bears and mountain lions one at least of which would be attracted to the smell of fish, it seemed to me perfectly logical. Bird-wise we only added a Hairy Woodpecker: however, scanning the ridges above us in the vain hope of finding a cat of any size out of cover produced a small herd of Bighorn Sheep grazing among sagebrush above the heavily eroded sandstone cliffs.
Back in town we went in search of dinner and initially rejected the idea of queuing at the Cowboy Cafe in favour of walking into the Paya Deli. This was a mistake, and don't any of you make the same one if you happen to be passing through DuBois: the Cowboy Cafe is the place to eat, as we decided after sitting unattended in the other place for some time and being completely ignored. We eventually figured there was a private party going on but at least they could have told us so! Null points.
We then queued, got a table after ten minutes or so, and were then treated very well, not least because the entire staff wanted to experience the Brits' accents - they all managed to give us at least a couple of minutes of their attention during our meal. We knocked off for the night having already decided where we would be breakfasting the next day.
John
PS: I forgot to mention the following exchange which demonstrates the difficulty of conversing in English in the USA:
Waiter: Do you want your dessert a la mode?
Steve: No, I don't want my icecream warmed.
Waiter: So you want your pie cold?
This might have gone on for some time had the rest of us not intervened to interpret. Just to obtain hot apple pie with cold icecream!
Last edited:
Farnboro John
Well-known member
Farnboro John
Well-known member
Sorry, these are the final final pix of Day Two:
American Robin
Western Wood Pewee
Rabbit sp (if anyone can tell me for certain what this is I'd be grateful. My opinion is its got broad ear pinnae and is probably a young Desert Cottontail, but the floor is open.)
Bighorn Sheep
John
American Robin
Western Wood Pewee
Rabbit sp (if anyone can tell me for certain what this is I'd be grateful. My opinion is its got broad ear pinnae and is probably a young Desert Cottontail, but the floor is open.)
Bighorn Sheep
John
Attachments
kittykat23uk
Well-known member
Ahhhh bunnies! 
Farnboro John
Well-known member
Day Three - Tuesday
Not such a gruelling day in prospect, so a slight lie-in and a leisurely, filling breakfast at the Cowboy Cafe. Steve was mildly miffed by the waitress's description of his managing to order his breakfast as awesome. Our first new trip bird of the day was right outside the cafe as we came out feeling well fuelled: a Black-capped Chickadee whose call was to my ear totally indistinguishable from Mountain Chickadee. It was a tick for me at least so an opportunity to grill it at close range was very welcome - our bins had accompanied us to breakfast of course.
Soon enough we had cleared our kit into the car, with kit positions starting to take on a routine. The Super Caravan is not a small vehicle by UK standards, with six seats and a deep vertical luggage space behind the back ones, but somehow four birders seemed to fill it easily - all the more reason to stick to a system once developed. It was also not only one of those irritating vehicles that takes every opportunity to beep at you nannyishly about seatbelts and suchlike but also does inconvenient things like locking all the doors as soon as you pull off - but not unlocking them when you stop!
Away, and after following the river valley fro a while we started to climb into the hills of the Bridger-Teton Forest. Scenic, but at the couple of stops we made, practically birdless! We did pick up American Red Squirrel (not a patch on our cutie but a tick) and Uinta Ground Squirrel (you inta ground squirrels? - all right, I'll get my coat) for the mammal list, and blip views of Mountain Bluebirds as we shot past.
No sign of any bears at our stops. Plenty of warnings about them, armoured waste bins, solidly built rest-rooms: no prints, scat or animals.
We found a signpost to a recreation area and followed the gravel road until it became a bit squishy due to the previous rain, then parked up and investigated a suddenly busy area of meadow and nearby lodgepole pine forest. Song and White-crowned Sparrows, Oregon-type Dark-eyed Juncos, Cliff Swallows overhead and - Hallelujah! Clark's Nutcrackers (my non-birder brother has had these over me for 20 years) rasping out their calls and flying from tree to tree. Initially they were distant and against the light but the views gradually improved until they were reasonably tickable if not exactly zonking.
Crossbills of one (or several, for all I know) of the 40,000,000 different types in which I don't believe were also around, small groups flying over us and generating pretty much zero interest once they were on the trip list. Jeff spotted a Cooper's Hawk typically flashing across the terrain offering brief views before disappearing into the woods. We also got close views and pictures of Red Squirrel and American Robin.
On we went, down the far side of the hills and fast approaching the border of our first multi-day destination, Grand Teton National Park. We stopped at a turnout with a likely -looking pond below it, and asked the elderly gentleman sitting on a rock if he's seen anything. He told us this was a regular Moose spot but he'd seen nothing, then, having stood up to face us in conversation, exclaimed that there was a snake - no, snakes - at the foot of the rock he'd been sitting on. Fortunately these proved to be more Western Terrestrial Garter Snakes, but while we enjoyed more views as they slithered in and out of the vegetation around the rocks we also made mental notes that perhaps snakes are more common in America than our collective experience elsewhere allowed for. Caution might pay.
American Wigeon were breeding on the pond, Northern Rough-winged Swallows feeding over it, and Jeff's lynx-eyes picked up a Black-and-White Warbler briefly.
Onward, and we came down onto a grassy plain backed by dark pine woods and beyond those, the towering rock walls of the Grand Teton range vanishing upwards into thick cloud. We had no doubt the view would be massively impressive if those clouds lifted. There were a few Pronghorns out on the grassy plain, but not particularly close. We had to endure a long wait to get through single-alternate line working roadworks of considerable length, then had a quick look at an overlook of the river, where Maz demanded I found her a Bald Eagle and then joined the boys in dissing the one I turned up immediately for being very distant. It was, but I felt hard done to after fulfilling her demand within ten seconds.....
Back in the car and onwards, now crossing a wide grassy plain mostly on our left side. Distantly we saw lines of blackish lumps moving slowly, with cars on a road clearly grouping near them - American Bison!
We quickly worked out the lie of the roads that would get us out to Antelope Flats where the herd of Buffalo was grazing on the move, and headed in that direction. Soon we were close to the first few of the mighty beasts and more than slightly awed by their size and muscularity. Jeff, Steve and I were using Bison and Buffalo pretty much interchangeably, all understanding clearly that Bison is modern parlance but the Wild West term somehow fits better. We weren't aware of the confusion arising in Marion's mind until she inquired in all innocence: "What's the difference between a Buffalo and a Bison?" at which point three male voices chorused as one: "You can't wash your hands in a Buffalo!"
How we didn't crash I don't know because the fits of hysterics that ensued were uncontrollable and went on for some time, caused as much by the perfect set-up as the ancient joke. Then we went to get close-up views of a herd of American Bison crossing the road between the parked cars and moving slowly across the sagebrush and long grass. The sound - the constant undercurrent of grunts and lows - was as impressive as the sight of these behemoths in such numbers. Perhaps 250 were moving around us, pretty much point-blank. "That's awesome," quoth Steve. "Ordering breakfast - not awesome. Hundreds of Bison - awesome."
We carried on towards Jackson to book into our next motel, but as we approached the town there was a smallish reed-edged lake with wildfowl on it - including a family of Trumpeter Swans! The car was quickly parked at the side of the road and we were out with cameras and across the road to the turnout next to the lake. Fantastic! This was a bird I really wanted to see, but I had heard some people struggled with them. These were about thirty yards away, two adults and three cygnets. Wonderful. Right next to us Cedar Waxwings were flycatching from a wire fence between us and the lake shore. Swallows were also using this aas a perch. Many Mallard, a few American Wigeon, some Gadwall and half a dozen Ring-necked Ducks lazed on the water and a couple of Common Green Darners patrolled the shoreline fast enough to prevent photography.
After an initial burst of pictures we were scanning around, and while that was going on the Trumpeters slipped away into a complex of channels in the reedbeds, so we made the final approach into Jackson, found our motel and booked in. The heavens then opened, so we took time to go shopping for supplies at a small supermarket.
Maz now insists I cook tea. Back later!
John
Not such a gruelling day in prospect, so a slight lie-in and a leisurely, filling breakfast at the Cowboy Cafe. Steve was mildly miffed by the waitress's description of his managing to order his breakfast as awesome. Our first new trip bird of the day was right outside the cafe as we came out feeling well fuelled: a Black-capped Chickadee whose call was to my ear totally indistinguishable from Mountain Chickadee. It was a tick for me at least so an opportunity to grill it at close range was very welcome - our bins had accompanied us to breakfast of course.
Soon enough we had cleared our kit into the car, with kit positions starting to take on a routine. The Super Caravan is not a small vehicle by UK standards, with six seats and a deep vertical luggage space behind the back ones, but somehow four birders seemed to fill it easily - all the more reason to stick to a system once developed. It was also not only one of those irritating vehicles that takes every opportunity to beep at you nannyishly about seatbelts and suchlike but also does inconvenient things like locking all the doors as soon as you pull off - but not unlocking them when you stop!
Away, and after following the river valley fro a while we started to climb into the hills of the Bridger-Teton Forest. Scenic, but at the couple of stops we made, practically birdless! We did pick up American Red Squirrel (not a patch on our cutie but a tick) and Uinta Ground Squirrel (you inta ground squirrels? - all right, I'll get my coat) for the mammal list, and blip views of Mountain Bluebirds as we shot past.
No sign of any bears at our stops. Plenty of warnings about them, armoured waste bins, solidly built rest-rooms: no prints, scat or animals.
We found a signpost to a recreation area and followed the gravel road until it became a bit squishy due to the previous rain, then parked up and investigated a suddenly busy area of meadow and nearby lodgepole pine forest. Song and White-crowned Sparrows, Oregon-type Dark-eyed Juncos, Cliff Swallows overhead and - Hallelujah! Clark's Nutcrackers (my non-birder brother has had these over me for 20 years) rasping out their calls and flying from tree to tree. Initially they were distant and against the light but the views gradually improved until they were reasonably tickable if not exactly zonking.
Crossbills of one (or several, for all I know) of the 40,000,000 different types in which I don't believe were also around, small groups flying over us and generating pretty much zero interest once they were on the trip list. Jeff spotted a Cooper's Hawk typically flashing across the terrain offering brief views before disappearing into the woods. We also got close views and pictures of Red Squirrel and American Robin.
On we went, down the far side of the hills and fast approaching the border of our first multi-day destination, Grand Teton National Park. We stopped at a turnout with a likely -looking pond below it, and asked the elderly gentleman sitting on a rock if he's seen anything. He told us this was a regular Moose spot but he'd seen nothing, then, having stood up to face us in conversation, exclaimed that there was a snake - no, snakes - at the foot of the rock he'd been sitting on. Fortunately these proved to be more Western Terrestrial Garter Snakes, but while we enjoyed more views as they slithered in and out of the vegetation around the rocks we also made mental notes that perhaps snakes are more common in America than our collective experience elsewhere allowed for. Caution might pay.
American Wigeon were breeding on the pond, Northern Rough-winged Swallows feeding over it, and Jeff's lynx-eyes picked up a Black-and-White Warbler briefly.
Onward, and we came down onto a grassy plain backed by dark pine woods and beyond those, the towering rock walls of the Grand Teton range vanishing upwards into thick cloud. We had no doubt the view would be massively impressive if those clouds lifted. There were a few Pronghorns out on the grassy plain, but not particularly close. We had to endure a long wait to get through single-alternate line working roadworks of considerable length, then had a quick look at an overlook of the river, where Maz demanded I found her a Bald Eagle and then joined the boys in dissing the one I turned up immediately for being very distant. It was, but I felt hard done to after fulfilling her demand within ten seconds.....
Back in the car and onwards, now crossing a wide grassy plain mostly on our left side. Distantly we saw lines of blackish lumps moving slowly, with cars on a road clearly grouping near them - American Bison!
We quickly worked out the lie of the roads that would get us out to Antelope Flats where the herd of Buffalo was grazing on the move, and headed in that direction. Soon we were close to the first few of the mighty beasts and more than slightly awed by their size and muscularity. Jeff, Steve and I were using Bison and Buffalo pretty much interchangeably, all understanding clearly that Bison is modern parlance but the Wild West term somehow fits better. We weren't aware of the confusion arising in Marion's mind until she inquired in all innocence: "What's the difference between a Buffalo and a Bison?" at which point three male voices chorused as one: "You can't wash your hands in a Buffalo!"
How we didn't crash I don't know because the fits of hysterics that ensued were uncontrollable and went on for some time, caused as much by the perfect set-up as the ancient joke. Then we went to get close-up views of a herd of American Bison crossing the road between the parked cars and moving slowly across the sagebrush and long grass. The sound - the constant undercurrent of grunts and lows - was as impressive as the sight of these behemoths in such numbers. Perhaps 250 were moving around us, pretty much point-blank. "That's awesome," quoth Steve. "Ordering breakfast - not awesome. Hundreds of Bison - awesome."
We carried on towards Jackson to book into our next motel, but as we approached the town there was a smallish reed-edged lake with wildfowl on it - including a family of Trumpeter Swans! The car was quickly parked at the side of the road and we were out with cameras and across the road to the turnout next to the lake. Fantastic! This was a bird I really wanted to see, but I had heard some people struggled with them. These were about thirty yards away, two adults and three cygnets. Wonderful. Right next to us Cedar Waxwings were flycatching from a wire fence between us and the lake shore. Swallows were also using this aas a perch. Many Mallard, a few American Wigeon, some Gadwall and half a dozen Ring-necked Ducks lazed on the water and a couple of Common Green Darners patrolled the shoreline fast enough to prevent photography.
After an initial burst of pictures we were scanning around, and while that was going on the Trumpeters slipped away into a complex of channels in the reedbeds, so we made the final approach into Jackson, found our motel and booked in. The heavens then opened, so we took time to go shopping for supplies at a small supermarket.
Maz now insists I cook tea. Back later!
John
Tree Sparrow
Well-known member
I'm really enjoying this, especially as for once it's somewhere I've been, albeit 30 years ago. Happy days hitching and camping .
Hurry up with the cooking and eating John so that you can get typing again.
TS
.Hurry up with the cooking and eating John so that you can get typing again.
TS
Farnboro John
Well-known member
One prawn curry later (and I am quite smug to announce, a contented wife as a result) I am back.
At some stage in the afternoon, and I can't remember whether it was before or after we booked in (because we stopped at Flat Creek both ways) I got talking to a guy who is in his second year of guiding in Grand Teton. Perhaps he was pleased to be talking to a birder rather than a grockle only interested in wildlife over six feet tall, but he was very forthcoming with local gen that I would have expected to be his stock-in-trade and therefore only available as part of his paid services. Full marks to him for both friendliness and intel quality.
We set off to investigate the Grand Teton Park's nearest area, intending to pay our week-long pass (covering Yellowstone as well) at the same time. I have to say the value for money is absolutely staggering, especially when you are used to rip-off Britain: 25 dollars for a week for two national parks for a car and all its occupants. However, the entry booths were unattended so we were in for free today - which at least made certain that our week pass would cover the full length of our stay when we did get it.
We headed down Moose-Wilson road, where my informant had told me there was an active Beaver lodge by the road. Six feet high, impossible to miss. After investigating an overlook turnout which had Barrow's Goldeneyes, Wood Ducks and Blue-winged Teal in rubbish light, we nearly managed to miss it but it caught the corner of my eye and we were in. There wasn't much space to park, which didn't quite fit the directions, so we carried on until we ran out of paved road and then turned back, fortunately arriving back at the pond before anyone else decided to stop there. Of course, once our stakeout was under way, the flocking habits of tourists meant that a succession of vehicles pulled in, asked what we were waiting for, waited a few minutes, got bored and moved on.
A few of those who stopped failed to take the cue from the Brits remaining resolutely inside their vehicle, and one who after standing about in the open and talking loudly came over to ask if we'd seen any Beavers. I said we hadn't yet, but we expected to provided that everyone stayed in their cars and kept quiet. He moved on shortly after that....
Gone 6pm there was a bigger than usual ripple beyond the lodge and an American Beaver swam towards the back of the pond and dived, surfacing briefly in view before disappearing into a channel. We had to wait some time for another brief view of it returning, then saw some frustrating ripples emerging from behind the lodge a few times before, finally, what we thought was a different, larger Beaver popped up right of the lodge and swam right across the pond in front of us before disappearing into another channel into the reeds and rushes, to the accompaniment of a tattoo from my camera shutter and Steve's. I think Jeff had to wait until it returned - again, some time - to get his camera into action but the overall result was we had great views of what I think can be a tricky species, and got pix into the bargain.
Waiting didn't produce any more Beavers though I had an all-too-brief view of a Catbird, so eventually we decided to head home. As we neared the overlook we'd been at earlier, it was clear something major was going on, with people running about tripods akimbo, cars parked anywhere - or rather, abandoned - and a general convergence on one point. After a struggle with the damn doors we leapt out and joined the mob congregating to view a Great Gray Owl sitting up on a dead tree. Omigod omigod omigod. What a monster! What a gem! What a lifer! Still moderately rubbish light, of course, but it was sitting still - but then it flew off. Blast.
We wandered over to the bluff edge to inspect the pond below, and goodness me there was another Beaver idling in the water right below. I took some photos looking almost vertically down, which meant I could see the outline of the wide flat tail at the surface. Excellent.
Even better, there was a shout and a buzz as the Great Gray Owl returned to its dead tree, so we joined the scuttle in that direction. The owl was not bothered by its audience, I guess if it thought anything it probably hoped all these humans bombing about would disturb a vole or ground squirrel. Certainly those were on its mind as we had a great performance of Great Gray Owl hunting behaviour i.e. sit still, listen, look where you hear stuff and consider a leap and glide before locking onto something nearer.
It then moved to a closer, lower stump giving almost unbelievable views. More listening and head-bobbing, then it dived into the short scrubby bushes and came up with a fat vole. Unfortunately it was surely dead before we saw it. We were then treated to an excellent view of the owl swallowing the unfortunate vole whole. My view was of course through the camera.
It was with considerable delight that eventually we left for town, food, beer and bed.
John
At some stage in the afternoon, and I can't remember whether it was before or after we booked in (because we stopped at Flat Creek both ways) I got talking to a guy who is in his second year of guiding in Grand Teton. Perhaps he was pleased to be talking to a birder rather than a grockle only interested in wildlife over six feet tall, but he was very forthcoming with local gen that I would have expected to be his stock-in-trade and therefore only available as part of his paid services. Full marks to him for both friendliness and intel quality.
We set off to investigate the Grand Teton Park's nearest area, intending to pay our week-long pass (covering Yellowstone as well) at the same time. I have to say the value for money is absolutely staggering, especially when you are used to rip-off Britain: 25 dollars for a week for two national parks for a car and all its occupants. However, the entry booths were unattended so we were in for free today - which at least made certain that our week pass would cover the full length of our stay when we did get it.
We headed down Moose-Wilson road, where my informant had told me there was an active Beaver lodge by the road. Six feet high, impossible to miss. After investigating an overlook turnout which had Barrow's Goldeneyes, Wood Ducks and Blue-winged Teal in rubbish light, we nearly managed to miss it but it caught the corner of my eye and we were in. There wasn't much space to park, which didn't quite fit the directions, so we carried on until we ran out of paved road and then turned back, fortunately arriving back at the pond before anyone else decided to stop there. Of course, once our stakeout was under way, the flocking habits of tourists meant that a succession of vehicles pulled in, asked what we were waiting for, waited a few minutes, got bored and moved on.
A few of those who stopped failed to take the cue from the Brits remaining resolutely inside their vehicle, and one who after standing about in the open and talking loudly came over to ask if we'd seen any Beavers. I said we hadn't yet, but we expected to provided that everyone stayed in their cars and kept quiet. He moved on shortly after that....
Gone 6pm there was a bigger than usual ripple beyond the lodge and an American Beaver swam towards the back of the pond and dived, surfacing briefly in view before disappearing into a channel. We had to wait some time for another brief view of it returning, then saw some frustrating ripples emerging from behind the lodge a few times before, finally, what we thought was a different, larger Beaver popped up right of the lodge and swam right across the pond in front of us before disappearing into another channel into the reeds and rushes, to the accompaniment of a tattoo from my camera shutter and Steve's. I think Jeff had to wait until it returned - again, some time - to get his camera into action but the overall result was we had great views of what I think can be a tricky species, and got pix into the bargain.
Waiting didn't produce any more Beavers though I had an all-too-brief view of a Catbird, so eventually we decided to head home. As we neared the overlook we'd been at earlier, it was clear something major was going on, with people running about tripods akimbo, cars parked anywhere - or rather, abandoned - and a general convergence on one point. After a struggle with the damn doors we leapt out and joined the mob congregating to view a Great Gray Owl sitting up on a dead tree. Omigod omigod omigod. What a monster! What a gem! What a lifer! Still moderately rubbish light, of course, but it was sitting still - but then it flew off. Blast.
We wandered over to the bluff edge to inspect the pond below, and goodness me there was another Beaver idling in the water right below. I took some photos looking almost vertically down, which meant I could see the outline of the wide flat tail at the surface. Excellent.
Even better, there was a shout and a buzz as the Great Gray Owl returned to its dead tree, so we joined the scuttle in that direction. The owl was not bothered by its audience, I guess if it thought anything it probably hoped all these humans bombing about would disturb a vole or ground squirrel. Certainly those were on its mind as we had a great performance of Great Gray Owl hunting behaviour i.e. sit still, listen, look where you hear stuff and consider a leap and glide before locking onto something nearer.
It then moved to a closer, lower stump giving almost unbelievable views. More listening and head-bobbing, then it dived into the short scrubby bushes and came up with a fat vole. Unfortunately it was surely dead before we saw it. We were then treated to an excellent view of the owl swallowing the unfortunate vole whole. My view was of course through the camera.
It was with considerable delight that eventually we left for town, food, beer and bed.
John
Farnboro John
Well-known member
Pix:
Uinta Ground Squirrel
American Robin
American Wigeon
American Bison X 2
John
Uinta Ground Squirrel
American Robin
American Wigeon
American Bison X 2
John
Attachments
Farnboro John
Well-known member
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