Winter Mexican Tour Y2K16, Days 3-5: North of San Blas, La Bajada, Cerro San Juan

After winning all morning at Lower Singayta, we decided to go shrimp ponding north of San Blas. There are a large number of shrimp ponds out this way, and since four our of five of us needed Collared Plover, it seemed like a logical place to bird late in the afternoon.

The shrimp ponds were extremely birdy....a nice variety of waders, some gulls, some terns, sandpipers, passerines in the mangroves....great area to wrack up a big species list. However, we dipped on Collared Plover...which we would do for the rest of the time in Mexico. If a nemesis bird exists for me south of the border, it is this goddamn plover.

We came across one pond filled to the brim with wood storks. I've never seen so many in one place.

Wood Storks galore! Here is our best checklist from birding this area, which we visited multiple days.

At different points in the week we ran into local birding luminaries Mark Stackhouse and Francisco Garcia, who both offered good birding advice. They were both pretty stoked on Chacalilla, one of the emerging hotspots in the area. Chacalilla is a short drive from San Blas, and essentially any of the roads leading out of town can offer quality birding (thorn forest, open country and wetland birds). Here is male Orchard Oriole posing pleasantly, south of town.

The view east of Chcalilla; note the pendant cacique nests hanging off the tree. Shortly after this photo was taken, the sky became plagued with Lesser Nighthawks.

There are hella Common Black-Hawks down Mexico way, this one in Chacalilla. We saw several black-hawks that we were never able to ID to species, so there is a decent chance we saw Great Black-Hawk at some point and didn't know it. Birding is hard.

On Day 4 the nerds went to La Bajada, where the birding was not quite facemelting but it ended up being very, very good. Lifers for me this morning were Mexican Woodnymph, Gray-crowned Woodpecker, Rosy Thrush-Tanager (!!!), Rusty-crowned Ground-Sparrow, Red-crowned Ant-Tanager, and Yellow Grosbeak. Not bad eh? Another highlight was an enormous fruiting fig (aka "the miracle tree") that was overflowing with Citreoline Trogons and other frugivores...I've never seen a tree overflowing with trogons before, and I highly recommend it. You can see our La Bajada checklist right here.

On Day 5 the nerds went further afield, out to Cerro San Juan. We approached via the traditional northern route (Mark suggested approaching from the south instead, but we got lost). Birding was steady but never overwhelming...gobs of Tufted Flycatchers, some Slate-throated Redstarts, lots of Berylline Hummingbirds. Finally we got to the big open area where the road reached its highest elevation, and things got really interesting here. We started running into lots of nice flocks, and the abundance of hummingbirds was impressive...eventually we found a particular field that was buzzing with Rufous, White-eared and Berylline Hummingbirds...I've never seen anything quite like it, it was heck of intense. More and more trip birds began to appear...White-striped Woodcreeper (lifer!), Pine (lifer!) and Buff-breasted Flycatchers, Cassin's Kingbird, Eastern Bluebird, Grace's and Crescent-chested Warblers, etc.

The open area around La Noria is known for its accommodating population of Spotted Wrens. They did not disappoint.

The number of Greater Pewees we saw in Mexico leads me to believe that there are far more Greater Pewees in the world than I had previously conceived of. Don't worry, they never got old.

There was a lot of fear and loathing when it came to hummingbirds on this trip. One of the high-priority target birds for all of us was Bumblebee Hummingbird, which we successfully dipped on excessively. We spent a significant amount of time at the right elevation/habitats, but we were empty-handed in the end. Pain. Calliope Hummingbirds like this one offered false hope on several occasions, but hey seeing a Calliope is a lot better than seeing nothing at all.

It turns out that there are a shitload of White-eared Hummingbirds out there in the world. This should not surprise me, yet somehow it does. One would think I would have crippling photos to show for it, but I am putting this questionable one up instead. Blogging works in mysterious ways.

A long time ago, in a county far far away, I saw a Gray Silky-Flycatcher. It was in suitable habitat...suitable habitat in Orange County. It was weird. It was a known bird, and the ruthless Bird Police used their malevolent powers to reject the record based on grounds of uncertain origin. There are those who are still butthurt about this.

Finally, after all those years, I have seen other Gray Silky-Flycatchers. They have eluded me in Mexico before, but not anymore. They are birds impressive in mellowness and plumage. I counted this individual as a lifer. It felt really, really good.

In the afternoon, a random walk in the woods led to one of the best and most mesmerizing flocks of the trip, which was illuminated by this glowing male Flame-colored Tanager. More on those birds next time.

BB&B Returns to Arizona

It was June. The birder's summer had officially begun. With my spring in Texas in the history books, it was time to make my way back to the west coast....where people ate burritos, and no one craved fajitas. Where you could get good coffee in a town smaller than Austin. Where Mexicans were not controversial. Where the governor was a typical old, wrinkly white guy and not some smug dumbass who lives on nothing but the blood of minority children and omelettes made out of Golden-cheeked Warbler eggs. After doing some birding with This Machine's crew (and seeing Black-capped Vireos, holy shit!), I left Nate's apartment and set out west through Hill Country. I barged all the way though to Las Cruces, spent the night, and by early the next afternoon I was back on familiar turf...cruising south down Highway 90, the Huachuca Mountains loomed ahead of me. Despite arriving in the middle of the day (which I do not recommend for <#7 birders), I had high expectations.

A few years ago I lived and worked in southeast Arizona for a spring doing point counts, with field sites from Sonoita Creek to Mt. Lemmon, from Carr Canyon to the Santa Cruz River. We had lodging in Ramsey Canyon and Florida Canyon, where a Ring-tailed Cat lived in our attic (I shit you not) and the only Rufous-capped Warbler in the country was just a short walk upstream. It was great birding (shocker), but despite my local residency and numerous other trips to the sky islands, I had yet to cross paths with a couple of specialties.

One of my few remaining nemesis birds in southeast Arizona was Mexican Spotted Owl. Although I did hear one in Carr Canyon one morning, I've had pathetic luck with them in Miller Canyon over the years. The Miller Canyon Spotted Owls are probably the most famous pair of their subspecies, frequently roosting within site of a trail and growing quite accustomed to people. They've been there for as long as I can remember. Since Miller Canyon gets covered very well by birders, people seem to constantly be keeping tabs on them. Well, that hasn't stopped me from walking by them countless times without ever seeing them. As you can see, this trip would be different.

Having been given the nest location by a few other birders, I had a very good idea of where to look this time. However, I hadn't even begun to start looking for the nest when I heard that wonderful sound...hoo......hoo-hoo.....HOOO. An adult was calling in the middle of the fucking day. Just ahead of me on the trail I heard another sound I hadn't heard in years.....cooooo-weep! As I walked ahead, toward the second bird, I could hear the begging calls of the owlets. I was close.

But before I got to the nest site, I was shocked to look up and see the adult that had been "coo-weeping" next to the trail. It was in full not-giving-a-fuck mode, leisurely preening, stretching and dozing. The owl hardly even looked at me. I got such a good look at the bird that I didn't even bother looking for the nest, which I knew was notoriously hard to see anyways. Eventually, I left the owl on the same perch that I found it and headed back down canyon. My heart was on the verge of bursting with joy.

Some of the coolest bird feet I've ever seen.

Located at the end of the road in Miller Canyon, the Beatty's place is one of the most legendary geri-birding sites in the U.S. It is the place to go for White-eared Hummingbird, arguably the most facemelting Trochilid that regularly ventures north of Mexico. They are very reliable in late spring and summer at the Beatty's, and despite the considerable time I've spent in southeast Arizona, I have yet to see one elsewhere. All you have to do to see one is wait, as they are not particularly shy and there is frequently more than one individual coming to the feeders.

Do you see? Pretty snaz.

I don't see White-eared Hummingbirds often, but when I do, I prefer to look up one of their nostrils.

Broad-tailed Hummingbird doesn't make it onto BB&B very often, so we will go ahead and address that right now. Those fine rows of spots on the throat (without a central patch) is quite distinctive on females, and you can just make out that particular shade of blue-green on the crown and nape that is a bit different from other Selasphorus.

A male Black-chinned Hummingbird with a gnarly bill deformity. He looks like he's doing ok though.

Of course, the Beatty's is a great place to see numbers of Magnificent Hummingbird also. Blue-throateds are around sometimes, but the Chiricahuas are your best bet for those beasts.

After I wrapped things up in Miller Canyon, it was time to fall even deeper into geri-birding mode and visit the Ash Canyon B&B, which is the best place in Arizona (and the U.S.?) for Lucifer Hummingbird. This Clark's Spiny Lizard was out strutting it's rather impressive stuff under a feeder, swelling up its body and flaring out it's blazing dewlap.

He was trying to intimidate a rival male...it was a tense standoff, and we humans were lucky we didn't get hurt. Clark's Spiny Lizards can be identified by their incomplete black collar and the barring on the forelimb.

Expect more Arizona coverage in another post. Good luck with your Monday.

This Off And On And Back And Forth And Home Then Gone

One of the White-eared Hummingbirds that were hanging out in Arizona's Miller Canyon last summer.

Just when you thought my short attention span was going to get the best of me, I'm bringing it back home. Mostly feathered, one scaled and scuted, some respledent, some drab, but all nerdy action for you. There is no real unifying theme here, but here's a few photos that I don't think I've ever put up before. Since I've yet again stayed away from any Christmas Bird Counts this year, this will have to be my contribution to you....you the bedraggled, you the unsocialized, you the wealthy, you the probably white, you, my kindered spirits....you, the birding community.

In other news, I have developed a deep and unabiding hatred for California's unemployment program....whoever set it up to run how it does must have a severe case of shitbrain. Absolutely brutal.



A female Berylline Hummingbird goes back to her hair larder. She had impaled a small dog on this fence earlier.....truly the new butcher bird.



One of the many friendly White Terns that reside at Midway Atoll.



All sea turtles have a terrible survival rate in their first year of life (something like 99% get killed I think), but once they grow up, life seems good. If you pass out face down in the sand it generally means you did something horrible the night before, but it's just daily routine for the turtles.



Another beautiful day at Midway, with another beautiful Laysan Albatross. I must return.....