Day 13 - Friday
Last day in the field. Bum.
On the other hand, we had a few new birds to hope for today, because we were planning to drive through the Pawnee National Grasslands to look for longspurs.
First we had to get there, heading South on US71 past the East block of the grasslands to no very great effect before turning West to begin the Birder Route signposted across the West block. From the start it was clear that whatever else we saw, we were going to see myriads of Lark Buntings: they were along the track in such profusion that there was a real risk of us missing other birds among the flocks that rolled along the gravel and the wire fences in front and to the sides of us. We made a point of getting photographs early on, we didn't want this to be the bird you get home and realise you saw loads and forgot to get pictures! There were quite a lot of Horned Larks as well, and the odd Swainson's Hawk - each of those got fairly grilled because we still wanted more on Ferruginous Hawk.
We picked up Vesper Sparrows, Chipping Sparrows and Lark Sparrows. We had a Brewer's Sparrow sitting on a a wire next to a huge hulking Lark Bunting. We had a juvenile Grasshopper Sparrow that took us ages to identify even with good photos. Next to a dwelling place we had a cracking Loggerhead Shrike sitting up on telephone wires. There were odd Pronghorns wandering along, but all of them were distant. There were a few patches of Black-tailed Prairie Dogs but not the numbers we'd had in the Badlands.
What there weren't, anywhere in any numbers, were longspurs of any description. For hours and hours, under another blazing sun. Until just after we passed the smelliest herd of black cows in America, when there was this thing sitting up on a barbed-wire fence and finally we were all looking at a single, partly moulted, scabby-looking McCown's Longspur. Hurrah! We photographed it before it could evaporate in a wisp of smoke.
Moving on, we encountered a Ferruginous Hawk that condescended to give us a decent flyby, very enjoyable and we all appreciated it. Our next raptor was a Northern Harrier that gave us quite good views before we were distracted by a male Blue Grosbeak sitting on a fence. Unfortunately this was into the sun but we did our best with it, and also with a female or juvenile we found once the male had flown off. A Western Kingbird also gave decent views nearby.
And that was about it for the Pawnee Grasslands. Its a place that has some good birds in it but they are hard to dig out of a wide landscape and you have to put the effort in (and time: don't go there for a drive-by, it requires a slow hand). We had a sensible amount of miles to go, I was out of sites but we had time before we needed to be back at Denver, so Steve picked a reservoir with a pin from several and we drove over to Jackson Lake State Park to have a look.
Apart from some difficulty understanding the payment system (which was designed to be difficult) we found the place OK and parked up after a jolly jape in which the chaps drove away and hid while I was using the lavatorial facilities. Most amusing. Walking towards the reservoir beach, we found a toad. We had trouble photographing it because most un-toadlike, it went like a rocket and had to be headed off by me running about like a Border Collie, otherwise it would have been off the sand and out of sight like lightning. After some discussion it appears it was Woodhouse's Toad.
Down on the beach we found a California Gull on the water, though three of us were distracted by a pair of - ah - chickadees displaying. Marion was distracted by lots of ants on the beach around her sandalled feet, which fortunately prevented her noticing what I was distracted by for some time.
There really wasn't much going on though, so we drove further round to the boat ramp, where as soon as the door was opened our parking permit went through the opening and was hurtled across the car park by a strong and growing wind. I pursued it with Jeff hard on my heels, and fortunately it caught on some branches among the rocks that acted as a breakwater at the edge of the lake. I jumped onto the stones and bent to recover it, and as I was at maximum bend, hand down to grab the paper, Jeff shouted "Snake!" I took the permit, straightened and chided him "That's not funny!" only to be told he wasn't joking. A flying leap put me back on the tarmac next to Jeff and turning to try to spot the snake twisting between the rocks. I missed it, but Jeff's description of a dark green unpatterned snake meant it had to be a Racer. On the bright side it also missed me.
There were white-headed gulls standing in the car park but out on the res there was a tern I wanted to check out, plus a hooded gull. Both were near the end of a breakwater or quay, so I set off down that to find that what I initially thought was a Laughing Gull was actually a Franklin's Gull (which made more sense given where we were). The tern had a bicoloured bill and orange legs and I was sure it was Forster's Tern though I subsequently took a look at a field guide to confirm it.
We used the car as a hide to check out the car park gulls, a mixture of Ring-billed and California. One of the Ring-billed Gulls, a first-winter, was absolutely massive and we had to give it a careful once-over to be quite sure of what we were looking at. The conclusion was that if it had been at Copperhouse Creek we would have called it a Ring-billed without a second thought, but its size compared to the adults around it was an education.
We added Killdeer and Spotted Sandpiper in flight and that was pretty much it. From there we drove to Denver airport, where after a couple of false starts even with Mildred's assistance we found our hotel for the night, offloaded the bags and booked in, before Jeff and Steve set off to divest us of the vehicle. We also discovered that if it hadn't been pitch dark when we arrived, we would definitely had Black-tailed Prairie Dog as our first mammal - they were all over the airport area!
We dined and rank in the hotel: we had to queue for a table but that was OK because we didn't have to queue for the bar....
Day 14 - Saturday
We got the bus to the airport and the plane from Denver (once it had been repaired - its never fun being delayed when you have to make a connection) to Charlotte in North Carolina. Even the grassed areas on Denver airport have prairie dogs.
It was a pretty smooth flight and for most of it I could see the ground, which was nice. The USA unrolled beside me, the Missouri obvious, most other places guesswork. At Charlotte we made our way to the gate for our onward flight to find it was overbooked. The airline was offering vouchers for anyone prepared to take their chances with a later flight. Maz and I just wanted to get home, but the boys decided to have a punt and we parted company there.
Day 15 - Sunday.
Hello Heathrow! Maz and I raced down to the luggage carousel, I grabbed our bags as they trundled round, and before very long we were in the pre-booked taxi and en route home. On arrival Maz decided that before we crashed out she would start the first lot of washing, unzipped both cases and:
"This isn't ours." And it wasn't: by some awful coincidence someone else out of the 290 people on the plane had exactly the same kind of case as us and I'd grabbed it without looking at the label. I rang the airport and they said bring it back, so it was into the car and back to LHR. We were met at the back door to Security, who thought it was really funny to ask: "Did you pack this yourself?" before falling about laughing.
They X-rayed the case and I had to show my passport before they whisked the bag away and escorted me round to the pile of unclaimed bags from the morning's flights. There were dozens!!!! What do people think coming off planes? Do they just forget they have bags? (Mind you, I've never understood those messages on RBA saying "scope and tripod left at (insert twitch here)", either.) Or perhaps they just grab someone else's....
Ours was, of course, there. Phew. I felt sorry for person sp. wandering Heathrow wondering what b*****d nicked their suitcase, but thankful they hadn't taken mine in a tit-for-tat mistake.
At this point I realised why I'd had my passport checked: my bag hadn't been through Customs so now I had to walk through the Green channel for the second time that day, whistling nonchalantly and wondering what the Customs guys would think if they recognised my distinctive form ambling past a second time - then realising with the number of unclaimed bags this must happen all the time!
It was with great relief that we returned home and once again walked up the path with a suitcase in tow, just as we had a couple of hours earlier. It was deja vu all over again.
John
PS: The boys' adventures were not quite over either, but since Steve is following this narrative I'll let him enlighten you!