Surveying in the Spring Mountains, May

Well, tomorrow’s plot starts up there…,I was thinking to myself as I gazed upward, enjoying the sunset on the cliffs of Potosi Mountain’s neighboring peaks. Part of the standard evening routine is determining what time I need to set the alarm for the morning, factoring in that I must climb a full 1,000 feet higher than my current elevation, in a half- mile, 30 minutes before sunrise. While the implications of this were setting in, I heard a Scott’s Oriole singing.  It was a welcome reprieve from the unwelcome realization that it was not yet dark, and yet I will be waking up in 8 hours for a doozy of a hike. I poked my head around the corner to see the gorgeous male Scott’s Oriole perched atop a lonely Pinyon, and got to appreciate his beauty for a brief moment before he realized I was watching. It was truly a lovely, peaceful scene-not a soul in sight, shadows growing long as the sun’s amber glow bathes the cliffs, while the melody of my oriole carries across the valley.

This survey is part of our IMBCR program on Forest Service and Bureau of Land Management lands, which I briefly discussed in my previous post about Grasshopper Sparrows. IMBCR stands for Integrated Monitoring in Bird Conservation Regions, and is a very neat project developed by Bird Conservancy of the Rockies in 2007.  It connects a massive survey area, nearly the entire western United States, under a common protocol, and generates some very interesting and useful data. These surveys are point-count surveys with 16 points, arranged in a grid, each point 250 meters apart, so that a 1kmx1km grid is created. In order to be a valid survey, at least 6 points must be completed.

I have surveyed this plot once before … have I mentioned it’s steep?!  Every direction you look is a stunning mountain-scape of sheer cliffs and infinite vistas. On this particular plot it is only humanly possible to (safely) reach 6 survey points; dangerous cliffs and scree slopes prevent access to a majority of the plot.  So, I have painted a picture of a very difficult location to traverse, but it is not without its rewards. A previous surveyor found Rufous-crowned Sparrows two years in a row up there, even confirming breeding once!  I missed them the first time, but was hopeful for this second time. I should have known that if I lugged my camera up there, they would smell me coming and make themselves scarce. You can likely gather I did not detect any Rufous-crowns on this survey either. Gray Vireos, Black-chinned Sparrows, Scott’s Orioles, and White-throated Swifts would have to suffice—poor me, I know, it’s a tough job, but some one’s got to do it!

 

 

Once safely down the mountain, it was just a little jaunt back to camp.  Once there, it was time to decompress and pack up camp. But, first things first, after a hike like that I needed ice cold refreshment. Fortunately for me, modern technology has created miraculously insulated vessels that hold ice for days.  It was only 9:00 (I had been up since 4:00, after all) yet the sun was still warming the air to a point just beyond comfort.  With no shade in sight, and the patch created by my truck rapidly dwindling, it was time to finish up, pack up, and get on out of here.  Another adventure awaits, as I get out the maps and begin navigating to tomorrow’s survey! 

- Ned

 

 

Surveying for Desert Thrashers

My day starts about an hour before sunrise on this April morning, as I get up and prep for the coming day’s surveys here near Knob Hill, by Searchlight.  Grabbing my pack and my water bottle, I start walking, and arrive on my first of three plots a few minutes after sunrise, enjoying that golden moment when the landscape glows … but not enjoying it for too long!, since as soon as I crest the ridgelet that is on my plot’s boundary, I need to scan around me, on the off chance there’s a thrasher perched.  No such luck. 

 

So I begin walking the plot. It’s a 300 by 300 meter block, and I’ve got 40 minutes to survey it - so I walk the length of the block, north then south then north again, making sure that I get within 50m of every point in it.  We’re collecting information on every bird we detect using the plot, but mostly we’re focused on Bendire’s and Le Conte’s Thrashers, and Loggerhead Shrikes. It’s a busy little plot, with several singing Black-throated Sparrows, some migrating Brewer’s Sparrows, chirping House Finches (though nothing like the flock of 90 I saw on a plot two days before), a Ladder-backed Woodpecker, with a singing Scott’s Oriole and Cactus Wren a bit beyond the plot boundaries.  None of my focal species though.

 

On to the next! It’s funny, the habitat isn’t much different and it’s still early in the morning, but this plot is SILENT compared to the first one.  I flush a group of four silent adult Black-throated Sparrows, and a little thereafter a silent Mourning Dove. And then, as I near one corner, where there’s a little bit higher density of Mojave Yucca, there it is – a fairly quiet, long song, that screams THRASHER. I pause my 40-minute timer, and head over to the yuccas … and nothing. I wander around in hope that I’m going to find it, but time is ticking, and I need to continue my survey. So I sigh, excited but a little bummed that I haven’t been able to see it, re-start my timer – and there it is! Yep, a beautiful Le Conte’s Thrasher, perched on the top of a Mojave yucca, beginning to sing again.  So I re-pause my timer, enjoy the view, and then when it flies off shortly thereafter, walk over to get the perch location and other details. Then I get going again, and finish up the plot.

 

My final plot is also quiet, so I’m able to survey it straight through with no pauses, and then work on some habitat surveys (and finish up my water bottle - my internal thermometer is still set on northern Nevada mode!). Finally, I’m done, and ready for the hike back to the car. After several days of work, it feels really good to finally have a thrasher! It is so incredibly dry down here right now, and the plants are reflecting that. Over the past several days, I’ve been looking at white bursage that are functionally leafless; creosotes often still with brownish leaves, and letting one or more branches die; and shadscale lacking a full set of leaves – with many of those that are there, dropping at the gentlest touch. So I wonder how the thrashers will respond, and am looking forward to the end of the survey season, and being able to see where we have found them, and what we're able to conclude about this year's breeding season.

 

This desert thrasher project has arisen out of Partners in Flight’s Desert Thrasher Working Group. You can find more information about the working group here. 

 

Happy birding,

Jen

 

Epilogue: As it turned out, that was the only thrasher I detected during my surveys. Data are still in the entry phase right now, so stay tuned for the overall results.

 

Thrasher survey plot west of the Spring Mountains

 

Flashback Friday: Big Day 2020

As we approach the 2021 Nevada Birdathon, our thoughts run to our adventures last year. GBBO’s Birdathon team, The Iron Merlins, set out on May 6^th, 2020. We had a great time, saw 128 species of birds, along with some unidentified hummingbirds and peeps, and very few other humans. Birding during these early months of the pandemic had us noticing other people far more than usual, and instead of our usual eagerness to share our sightings with anyone and everyone within hailing distance, we were still in very diligent Social Distancing Mode. The day started at 3 AM at Damonte Ranch wetlands - heavily caffeinated and hoping for some rails calling late at night.  A few Virginia Rails obliged us, and several other species vocalized, including singing Marsh Wrens.  Feeling off to a strong start, we headed off to find some owls, but as we drove up to the Carson Range we realized that the strong winds were going to put a damper on our owling effort.  

Noticing the time, we figured we had better stake out our Dawn Chorus spot.  Galena Creek yielded another 28 species, including a singing Olive-sided Flycatcher and a Western Wood-Pewee, and a few distant humans on another trail.  We spent the morning hitting various spots throughout the Carson Range and along the east shore of Lake Tahoe. Lingering snow prevented some high elevation access, but Spooner Lake was lovely. Here we had our first Wilson’s Warblers, Evening Grosbeaks, and a calling Northern Pygmy-Owl! Perhaps it was the amazing sun-soaked meadows, beautiful weather, and flyover Bald Eagle that set the tone for us needing to make up time throughout the day…But still we managed to go until 10:30 AM before seeing or hearing a single Clark’s Nutcracker…though we had to use the 95% rule since I only saw the shadow of the Nutcracker that Kayla clearly saw fly over. But nonetheless, we felt very successful as this was likely the most potentially crowded place we would be birding all day and we only saw a few distant trail-runners.

We followed our route into the Carson Valley, and feeling a little pressed for time decided to skip a few spots, hoping we would have time to get out to Carson Lake in Fallon.  Vesper Sparrows cooperated very nicely at the Bentley-Kirman trail, a singing Lark Sparrow at the west end of Sunrise Pass road was our only one for the day, but Juniper Titmouse eluded us.  Rushing over to Mason Valley, we stopped a few times in the PJ along Highway 395, and enjoyed Western Bluebirds, a flock of 20 Evening Grosbeaks, and a singing Lazuli Bunting from the flowering bitterbrush. We picked up White-throated Swift and (sigh) an unidentified Hummingbird at a quick stop in Wilson Canyon, but no Canyon Wrens.  By the time we got to Mason Valley, it was HOT, the cottonwoods were not jumping with migrants as we might have hoped, and water levels seemed to be much lower than usual. After driving around for a bit we decided we had better head for wetter conditions in Fallon, as those wetlands had been very productive just a week ago. As we drove out of Yerington, a Golden Eagle appeared almost on command, soaring over the mountains just as we were talking about them.  But how did we manage to complete the drive to Fallon without seeing any Horned Larks flying across the highway?

As we got to Fallon it became clear that conditions were not significantly wetter here, but the Horned Larks didn’t mind, and kindly cooperated. We managed to turn up Sora and Long-billed Curlew, and scope out some distant kettling Pelicans. Those peeps we flushed while driving just wouldn’t land though... An Ash-throated Flycatcher in the greasewood was a nice surprise, and this ended up being the only location where we saw Northern Mockingbirds. A Sagebrush Sparrow sang in the greasewood, we spotted a Gray Flycatcher, and then we headed off to the next stop. We missed Bufflehead and Lesser Scaup at S-line reservoir, but the Great Egret and Double-crested Cormorant rookeries were enjoyable to watch. No time for Screech-owls, but maybe Soda lake has some Phalarope hanging out? No? Ok- time to race back to Reno to attempt to make up for species missed along the way.

 

On our way back in, we were drawn to the wetland and pond complexes of southeast Reno, and finally picked up Northern Pintail.  Our second round at Damonte yielded a Marbled Godwit, but we still didn’t have some very common species. So we raced across town to Oxbow in search of a Yellow Warbler, but just could not get one to sing for us.  Running low on daylight, we heard a Downy Woodpecker whinny and decided we had better check elsewhere. We booked it to the Mogul bridge for the lingering Hooded Oriole.  As we arrived it was just getting dark, but an American Dipper called and flew under the bridge right as we were crossing, and midway across the bridge we watched a Bullock’s Oriole chase a smaller Hooded Oriole into one of the cottonwoods.  Another few minutes and we spotted the Great Horned Owl on its nest. Still no flashing Yellow Warblers…Just about out of daylight, we thought we might try for that strangely-elusive warbler and maybe Greater Yellowlegs and Wood Duck at Rancho San Rafael. No such luck, but we finally got a Ring-necked Duck.  Then as bats began to emerge from their roosts, we realized we had left our headlamps in the truck, so we decided to call it a day: a long, exhausting, bird-filled, wonderful day … with celebratory burritos awaiting!

 

-Ned

 

 

Lazdigo Buntings

by Ned Bohman

 

We all know and love Lazuli Buntings, with their brilliant blue hue and sweet, warbler-y song.  When I hear my first Lazuli of the season, my first thought is almost always: “wait, what’s THAT warbler??” And then it hits me: of course, it’s a Laz!  But now, let’s introduce more confusion, a very close relative to our beloved Lazuli: the Indigo Bunting.  Not that this species is anything new, especially to those of us who have ever lived in the eastern United States - these guys can be THE most common songbird in some overgrown fields. They are continuing to expand their breeding range, westward and northward.  The species’ distribution during the breeding season roughly encompasses the entire eastern United States, north to very southern Canada and west to the Mississippi River, though they do hop over the river a bit, and there is a spur cutting from northeastern Nebraska southwest through Colorado; encompassing New Mexico, Arizona, southern Utah, and more recently southern Nevada. 

 

In search of the elusive Lazdigo Bunting ... Success!

Every year it seems I see more and more Indigo Buntings here, to the point where I no longer feel as confident identifying Buntings that I only hear singing and do not see.  I have now had this experience several times: I hear a Bunting song, the notes seem very paired, and relatively slow for a Laz. So naturally, I start thinking Indigo, and I spend up to an hour tracking these birds down ... and what do I find but a beautiful rosy-chested, white-wing-barred, brilliant-electric-blue-male Lazuli Bunting.  After accepting that some bunting songs just cannot be confidently identified without a visual, “unknown Bunting” has become a regular on my checklists.

 

 

courtesy of Don DesJardin

Both buntings prefer to breed in edge habitat; often in riparian areas, and prefer to nest low in shrubs.  They both eat seeds and fruits throughout the year with an increase in arthropod consumption during breeding season. They both forage from ground level up to 15 meters off the ground.  Both sing conspicuously from the tops of shrubs such as willows, and commonly produce 2 broods per season. Essentially these two species occupy very similar ecological niches and they coexist largely because they are separated by range.  There is only a small amount of overlap in both breeding and winter ranges of the species currently, but this seems to be changing. Where their breeding ranges do overlap, hybrids occur.  (Stay tuned for a future post on hybridization between these bunting species!)

This is one of the fun observations that result from birding the same locations time after time: there is always the opportunity to see and learn new things. Whether it is as simple as a new behavior for a species you are intimately familiar with, or spotting a rare vagrant during migration; whether you are confirming breeding of a secretive species, seeing a species for the first time, or seeing a new species at a particular location.  But it doesn’t just afford these opportunities to observe new things, it also allows you to track changes as they occur on the landscape over time … like our Indigo Buntings becoming more common in Nevada. I consider us lucky to be in a part of the world where both of these beautiful birds occur!

Spring has sprung!

Photo courtesy of Don DesJardin

Spring is here and now it finally feels like it! With the lingering wintery weather and crazy social conditions, it has hardly felt like it. But today it is 75 degrees and my resident Mockingbird is singing his little heart out. For now, I can forget about being cooped up at home, because my yard birds are so busy! I have been enjoying sitting outside listening to this Mockingbird’s mimicry. His song is easy to pick out because he doesn’t use any original phrases, every element of his song is taken from things he has heard in his surroundings, and he repeats these in phrases of 3, constantly changing and rotating between sounds.  It is fun to identify what he is mimicking, and then to use these clues to try to decipher the places he has been and who he has been hanging out with. He has been singing a lot of different Ruby-crowned Kinglet song phrases, plenty of California Scrub-Jay screams, and lately he has been adding phrases that I can only interpret as car alarms! I watch him as he sings from atop the ornamental Trees-of-Heaven in my backyard. But the story doesn’t end with a raucous male Mockingbird serenading my neighborhood. A second silent bird seems to be following him around.  Based on their behavior I assume this to be a female and potential suitor for my resident copy-cat. As I sit here, I hear another Northern Mockingbird begin to sing a few blocks to my west, I wonder if this silent bird I have been watching is in fact female, and if she has chosen her mate yet.

This time of year most birds are thinking about their biological reason for existence: reproduction.  If you watch and listen to the birds in your yard you can easily pick up on these cues.  You may have noticed the early mornings are a bit noisier lately, this is because male songbirds are advertising and attempting to attract mates.  They use their song to defend the territory from other males, and they also sing to attract females. If you are able to watch them for a while, you may be lucky enough to observe other behaviors associated with breeding.  

If you see a bird carrying something in its bill, pay attention to where it goes and what it does with its load. It could be carrying material with which to construct its nest. During this season of courtship males may bring their prospective mate an attractive food item to demonstrate their prowess. For example, male flycatchers will often bring their mates big showy insects like butterflies and dragonflies, presumably to impress or to demonstrate their hunting capability.  Later in the season, they will be bringing food to feed hungry females stuck on the nest incubating eggs. After this, the eggs will become nestlings that will need to be fed constantly. Being a bird parent is a busy business, and involves a lot of food-carrying!

It is now a few hours later, and while I am strolling around the block, I see a Northern Mockingbird hop into a dense hedgerow with a mouth full of dried grass stems. To the field-trained eye, this behavior is clearly associated with nest-building. This particular hedgerow is about 100 yards from my house, so I wonder if this bird is one of the pair I have been watching in my Tree-of-Heaven. Now that I have discovered the location of a nest, I can pay attention to various clues to tell me if the Mockingbirds in my yard are the same ones using my neighbor’s hedgerow. I will start to cue in on which direction the birds come and go from, I will listen for how close other Mockingbirds are, and if I am lucky I will be able to follow one from my yard to my neighbor’s. By paying attention to these little things, I am able to interpret so much about the birds that share the neighborhood with me.

You can do the same thing in your yard, if you notice a particular bird hangs around a lot, stay put and watch it for a while.  Maybe you will get the chance to see it carry some fruit from your ornamental shrub to its mate that is waiting just around the corner.  Maybe it has even decided your yard has enough resources to sustain its brood this year. By paying attention to the subtle things they are doing, you can learn a lot about them and their world. At the end of the season you may even be lucky enough to see them toting a brood of clumsy, fuzzy, fledglings around the yard!

- Ned

Grasshopper Sparrows!

While conducting field work this past breeding season, my randomly generated IMBCR plot found me in Northern Nevada’s Owyhee Desert.  IMBCR stands for Integrated Monitoring in Bird Conservation Regions, and is a program developed by the Bird Conservancy of the Rockies in 2007.  Since then, a number of organizations have collaborated with the Bird Conservancy to conduct these surveys across much of the American West.  Each breeding season these surveys are completed from North Dakota to West Texas, Colorado to California, Washington to Arizona, and many places in between.  Three years ago, GBBO joined this partnership, and began surveys in Nevada, Arizona, and California.  The large scope of these standardized surveys creates a powerful tool to monitor birds at a regional level, including conservation priority species across the breadth of their ranges.

So back to the Owyhee Desert, where I’m driving roads that haven’t seen traffic in who knows how long.  After finding a newly-eroded canyon through my access road, I nearly gave up on this survey, but Ben (my survey partner, who was doing a nearby Nevada Bird Count transect) and I finally ended up finding a navigable alternative and got to camp well after dark.  When I woke up, I was in a landscape that I didn’t know existed in Nevada.  As far as I could see was lush perennial grassland, several species of grass, waist-high Great Basin Wild Rye among them.  My first impression as I started walking from camp was the almost deafening chorus of Western Meadowlarks.  It wasn’t until minute 2 of my second point that I heard it, almost dismissible as insect noise, this quiet, mechanical “tsk-tsk-tzzzzz”.  At first I did pass it off as a Grasshopper, but it was so regular and a little too loud, and then it clicked. Grasshopper SPARROW! After nearly 10 minutes of staking out this particular cluster of bunchgrass, I finally saw him and my suspicions were confirmed. Tucked just below the highest point of the grass was a small, squat, flat-headed, relatively large-billed sparrow cocking his head back and singing his insect-like song. 

As my survey went on I encountered several more, and by the end of the morning I had conservatively counted 11 singing males.  This species has been on my radar ever since I heard tales a few years ago of these guys in northern and eastern Nevada, but I had never come across them.  Jean Linsdale, back in 1951, reported them as a summer resident in small numbers in the northeast part of the state, but records have been sparse.  Not surprising then, when I finally found them, I was in one of the most inaccessible parts of Nevada. The combination of distance from town and rough roads (where roads exist at all!) makes the Owyhee Desert pretty much off limits to most Nevada Birders. Given all this, and factoring in annual variation, it is hard to tell what is actually going on up there. Maybe there are always loads of Grasshopper Sparrows singing their hearts out in the Owyhee Desert with no humans to hear them, or maybe we had a bonanza year because of higher precipitation levels and greater growth of grasses and forbs.  We will be surveying there again in 2020, so we’ll report back then!

The Owyhee Desert is not the only part of the state that is largely inaccessible and has unique habitat.  With such a large area and such concentrated populations, Nevada has long been one of, if not the most under-birded state.  This combined with other factors led to the creation of Great Basin Bird Observatory and the first edition of the Nevada Breeding Bird Atlas 20 years ago….and 20 years later there are still new things to learn about Nevada’s avian community. So for those who are willing to get off the beaten path and explore a bit, who knows what you might find!

For those who are unfamiliar and/or curious, the Owyhee Desert is Northeast of Winnemucca, in between the Santa Rosa and Independence Mountain Ranges. It sprawls into Idaho to the North, and peters out as it hits the Owyhee Bluffs to the south, about 30 miles north of I-80.  It can be accessed from the south via Midas, but the primary entry points are on the east side through the Duck Creek Indian Reservation and the Town of Owyhee or by Wilson Creek Reservoir.

- Ned Bohman

(The photos are from Ben's survey of the nearby Nevada Bird Count transect.)

The Wayback Machine: Birding in the Ruby Mountains, July 2019

At the end of the field season, we held a public field trip to the Ruby Mountains.  We all had a great weekend, camping and birding in Lamoille Canyon, and even saw the target birds that we set out to see!

Folks arrived on Friday evening, and we enjoyed a pot-luck dinner while getting to know everyone. Once the campfire went out, everyone went to bed early to prepare for Saturday’s hike. The plan for Saturday morning was to start hiking up to Island Lake at 7 in hopes of catching views of Himalayan Snowcock at the top, before it got too late. 

By 6:30 Saturday morning everyone was raring to go chase down these elusive Asian chickens.  We left camp shortly thereafter and got to hiking.  We were greeted by singing a Lazuli Bunting and Fox Sparrow at the trailhead as well as a not-so-cooperative Dusky Flycatcher sallying about the aspen along the start of the trail.  The birds on the hike up were quite active, with Rufous and Broad-tailed Hummingbirds enjoying the abundant horsemint and Indian paintbrush, while singing MacGillivray’s Warblers and Green-tailed Towhees provided a nice soundtrack to hike to. At one point 6 Clark’s Nutcrackers stopped in to pose for us on a very picturesque snag. The birding along the hike may have delayed our arrival at the top where we could find Himalayan Snowcock, but was too enjoyable to rush!

Himalayan Snow-Rock

We made it up to the beautiful Island Lake cirque at 9:00, and a few members of the group had gotten an early start and were already at the upper cirque by then. It was not long before the most bird-like rock any of us had ever seen was spotted.  Perched perfectly at the top of the ridgeline with a pale head and brown body, a few people saw it move, some even saw its feathers ruffle in the wind. We were so pleased; we had spotted our Himalayan Snowcock within minutes of getting to the cirque. After everyone had gotten a look, we decided to hike up closer to the snowfields to see if we could see any Black Rosy-Finches. It was not until 15 minutes after we had spotted the Himalayan Snow-Rock, that we determined our bird was, in fact, just a rock.  We did not let that take the wind out of our sails though, we continued on to the upper cirque and got to enjoy the sound of a few distant snowcock calling. We met up with the other members of the group here, and they excitedly asked us if we saw the birds they were pointing out to us. When we co

nfusedly said that we hadn’t they informed us they were watching us scan the ridgeline while they were watching 2 snowcock and jumping up and down and pointing trying to get our attention! At least somebody saw the target birds! We remained in the upper cirque for about an hour without seeing any actual snowcock before deciding to hike down. So while only 2 of the group actually saw snowcock this day, we all heard them call, and enjoyed a place with near-unmatched beauty in Nevada. We finished the walk with 33 species, and returned to camp for lunch.

After lunch, we went to South Fork State Recreation Area to see if we could spot some water birds.  This turned out to be more productive than we initially thought, yet not so riveting to keep us there for more than half-an-hour. Wilson’s Phalarope of various ages in varying plumages kept as entertained, as well as a juvenile American Coot that had a few of us scratching our heads. We made a group decision to go try for Bobolink before heading back to camp for the BBQ.  We left the reservoir with 16 species, and headed for the ranch lands of Lamoille.  After getting there it took just 5 minutes to spot a flock of Bobolink across the field. We conservatively counted 12 birds. The females and juveniles were most cooperative, the males only let us get brief views as they flitted about the tall grass. It was nonetheless enjoyable to be on the breeding grounds of such a range-restricted species in the state.  Shortly after 5:00 we headed back to camp to chat about the day and enjoy Hamburgers and Hotdogs. We left Lamoille with 12 species, including a few Wilson’s Snipe that were hanging out in the cattle corral.

Once back at camp, Barbeque fixings were already underway. The Barbeque was a great success.  We all had a lovely time chatting and enjoying charcoal-grilled burgers and dogs.  We got a campfire going, and got to planning for Sunday and making S’mores. Since we had diverged a bit from the schedule, and saw our Bobolink ahead of schedule, and some folks wanted to try again for snowcock, we had some figuring to do.  Most folks wanted to do their own thing and have a leisurely hike on the trails around camp. Some even enjoyed Thomas Canyon so much that they booked an extra night to explore the area some more. So we decided that a few of us would try again for snowcock, this time a bit earlier.  While everyone else would enjoy Thomas Canyon at their own pace. Now that we had a game plan, everyone enjoyed their final marshmallows and we doused the fire and headed to bed.

We began the hike before 6 AM this time, in hopes that our birds would be vocalizing. We also did not stop for birds on the way up, we were determined to see snowcock this time.  As soon as we got to Island Lake, we began hiking to the upper cirque. Once there, we hoped we would hear snowcock vocalizing. We did not, but after about 10 minutes Mike had spotted birds on the ridgeline. When we got the scope on them we all determined that they were in fact moving (definitely not rocks this time), and that there were 4 of them.  We all got fantastic looks at the snowcocks and watched as they slowly climbed up and over the ridgeline. After the last of these 4 disappeared we watched another and another pop out of the alpine vegetation onto the rocks of the ridgeline. Before we headed down we agreed that we saw 9 snowcock climbing around on the rocky ridgeline!

Once back to camp we didn’t have much time before we had to check out of the sites.  So we made the rounds and bid everyone farewell. All in all, we had a great weekend meeting new friends, enjoying camp meals, and seeing good birds (Even if a few of the group have to change their life list to say “Himalayan Snow-Rock”). It was great to see everyone coming out to bird with us and enjoy the Ruby Mountains.

Thank you for coming out, Ellen and Adib Alaware, Tina Nappe, Bill Bowers, Nicole and Mike Carion, Judy Duffy, Don Van Patten, Chris and Rosie Howard!!

-Ned Bohman

Trip Species List

1. Cinnamon Teal
2. Mallard
3. Western Grebe
4. Eurasian Collared-Dove
5. American Coot
6. Killdeer
7. Wilson's Snipe
8. Wilson's Phalarope
9. Ring-billed Gull
10. American White Pelican
11. Himalayan Snowcock
12. Broad-tailed Hummingbird
13. Rufous Hummingbird
14. Great Blue Heron
15. Turkey Vulture
16. Golden Eagle
17. Red-tailed Hawk
18. Cooper's Hawk
19. Hairy Woodpecker
20. Northern Flicker
21. American Kestrel
22. Prairie Falcon
23. Western Wood-Pewee
24. Cordilleran Flycatcher
25. Dusky Flycatcher
26. Warbling Vireo
27. Black-billed Magpie
28. Clark's Nutcracker
29. American Crow
30. Common Raven
31. Horned Lark
32. Tree Swallow
33. Violet-green Swallow
34. Northern Rough-winged Swallow
35. Barn Swallow
36. Cliff Swallow
37. Mountain Chickadee
38. Rock Wren
39. House Wren
40. Mountain Bluebird
41. Townsend's Solitaire
42. American Robin
43. American Pipit
44. Black Rosy-Finch
45. Swainson's Thrush
46. Hermit Thrush
47. Cassin's Finch
48. Pine Siskin
49. Chipping Sparrow
50. Brewer's Sparrow
51. Savannah Sparrow
52. Fox Sparrow
53. Dark-eyed Junco
54. White-crowned Sparrow
55. Lincoln's Sparrow
56. Green-tailed Towhee
57. MacGillivray's Warbler
58. Yellow Warbler
59. Lazuli Bunting
60. Bobolink
61. Yellow-headed Blackbird
62. Red-winged Blackbird
63. Western Meadowlark
64. Brewer's Blackbird
65. House Sparrow