September 20 - Checking

 

September skies

September is such a lovely month. A person can wake up to the crisp reminder that the year is wrapping up. But the sun rushes in to wash away these concerns, bottling them up in beads of perspiration and letting them evaporate away in a lazy afternoon. "There's not much left to do," is a sentence filled with saudade; It's a very September sentence.

So most of what was left to do today was check. Harvest had been in full swing in Douglas for some time, as it had been with my bird harvest. But there was still fruit on the trees, and still some birds to be found. So it was time to check. But first, I needed to get my tire checked.

My September list of Les Schwab store sightings continued to grow...

How do you even start to characterize Les Schwab? They'll let you roll up any time with tire problems and fix them for free. Unless it's a Sunday. . . and they might not fix it. . . but those things you just accept, and the fact that you can have anything repaired on a car for free these days is just amazing. I dropped my car off at the East Wenatchee Les Schwab, hoping they'd fix it this time, and then set off on a walk. 

Checking for Scrub-Jays

Interesting now that I actually tried to map this out. All along, I thought I was on Rock Island Road, but the road turns into Highland Drive as it heads out of town. It started as a crisp morning as described, but it wasn't too long before the sun had me pulling off the sweatshirt, and tying it around my waist. I was on this little walk to look for California Scrub-Jays - a bird I'd been trying to find for a good few months now! But these birds do seem to become a bit noisier and visible in September, so I had a good feeling on this one. 

As it turns out, I got to the end of Highland Drive, and was briefly puzzled about where I was! I knew that Rock Island Road ran parallelish to the Columbia here, and I could see the Columbia off to my right. Trusting that Iowa would take me down, I took that right, and almost immediately heard a California Scrub-Jay (200!) as I descended. 

If I had a different phone. I mean all of this would be a little different with a different phone. I would have had my phone chirping at me to let me know what road I was on, and how long it would take me to get to my destination. I would likely have had some kind of zoom capability on the phone that would have produced a nice little picture of the Scrub-Jay. There are times where I've briefly second-guessed my choice to go off on these explorations far from home armed with a flip phone that does *almost* nothing besides allowing me to talk and text. 

But I've gained far too much from the disconnection. 

An absolute mess

My destination had actually been the a home belonging to a birder named Jerry in East Wenatchee. Jerry had reached out at one point to explain the ephemeral nature of lakes on the plateau, and more recently I had see him posting sightings of California Scrub-Jays in East Wenatchee, noting that these birds "are not uncommon in East Wenatchee." As I returned along Rock Island Road, I did happen along his home, and caught him out doing chores in the driveway. He offered to show me around his property. 

I had used the words above to describe Jerry's place at some point, and made sure (as humor sometimes misses) that he completely understood it as a compliment. I'd spent a good bit of the morning walking past finely manicured lawns, well-behaved gardens, and lazy monoliths of juniper bushes. None of the Standard American Lawn Flora enjoyed any such success in this carefully constructed jungle.

To be fair, there was a juniper tree. This was one of dozens of trees that Jerry pointed out as we walked, "It may be the tallest juniper tree in the state," he noted. I have to admit, seeing a juniper growing vertically was a surprise for me. 

Big Ol Juniper

The most fun for me is when I learn something and it actually sticks. This happened with pines for me here. Jerry pointed to a branch from a pine and asked me how many needles it had. 

. . . 

In my brain, of course I was thinking "dozens?", but I made a wild guess that he was asking something different. I looked in more closely and found that the needles were bunched in groups of five. If I've correctly understood things I've read since, these are "white pines", a taxonomic group that has had some struggles in the state in recent times. Blister rust and bark beetles have put this once widespread tree into decline. 

The next pine I saw looked more familiar. 

Admittedly tough to see, but these needles are in bunches of three.

Three-needle bunches are found on yellow pines, or in this specific case, a Ponderosa Pine. 

Jerry was particularly excited then to show me this one:

Pinyon Pine

The "bunches" here were nothing more than single needles, making this a Pinyon Pine. My brain casually noted that there is a bird called a Pinyon Jay that's not found up in our neck of the woods. Jerry confirmed that this is more of a California tree. A search on eBird got me this for Pinyon Jay:

Which makes reason number 8 (or so) for me to make Klickitat County my stop next year. We shall see. Please understand that the simple fact that I'm not going to see a Pinyon Jay in Klickitat County in my life would have no bearing on this decision. Even seeing the border (something I've not seen in any of my big years) tickles a part of my brain in a "Here Be Dragons" kind of way.

A very uncountable Barrow's Goldeneye

We passed through a couple gates along the way, and under an arch of hop vines, back to the far end of their property, where Jerry had arranged a bit of a détente with some poison ivy. It was just an amazing bit of work. How fun to have a place that seemed so chaotic, and yet was designed and known plant by plant. I just feel so fortunate to have had a chance to get this tour. I added zero birds during this time, but outcomes like this are exactly why I love doing these years.

On my way out, I asked if he ever gets any owls, and learned that he has had Long-eared and Barn (!!), which is an owl that I have not yet found for the year. 

Checking out

I got a ride back to Les Schwab from Jerry, and found that they had fixed the problem - a bad valve stem. As always seemed to be the case at Les Schwab, there was no charge for the repair, and I was pretty happy to have four safe tires once more. 

I swung down to the East Wenatchee waterfront, trying a couple different spots along the Apple Capital Recreation Loop Trail. With reports of Sabine's Gulls recently on the other side of the Columbia, I figured it was a good time of year to be staring out at the water and giving gulls the once over. Sparrows got the same treatment as I walked, but nothing out of the ordinary came up. 

Wenatchee, to be fair, has the Wenatchee River spilling out into the Columbia, so the gulls tend to concentrate on that side of the river, while any that wander over to the Douglas side tend to be a little more widely dispersed. I use explanations like this when I have to read texts telling me that a Parasitic Jaeger was seen flying from the Chelan side of the river to the Douglas side right around the time I was out looking. 

It softens the blow a little. 

I made a few stops along the Columbia, going up as far as Lone Pine to get a cup of coffee and some bags of fruit (apples and pears this time). Then it was up to the plateau. 

Waterville

I should explain that I had my camera with me as I walked along the Columbia. I just didn't have the memory card in it. I realized this late into my walk and just relied on whatever pictures Flippy could give me. In East Wenatchee, I really *feel* like I retrieved the memory card from my laptop and pocketed it. My pockets, however, did not have the card when I rolled into the Waterville STP. I looked around a little, but found nothing. 

Fortunately (?) at the Waterville STP, I also looked around a little, but found nothing. Black-bellied Plovers were the birds seen between my last visit and now, but the water levels had gotten lower, and the sandpipers of August were now replaced by a few dozen American Pipits. Northern Shovelers, and a few teals (Cinnamon? Blue-winged?) wearing their off-brand fall plumage swam in the west pond. 

Badger Mountain

Here, as with most of my stops for the day, I did not come in with a long list of birds I was looking for. Just checking. In this case, there was a weeks-old report of Red-naped Sapsuckers. This was a bird I expected earlier in the year, but I just never came across them. On this particular day, it was quiet as I walked Q Road. 

Honestly, I didn't mind it. I had promised to get up on Badger Mountain and look for Broad-winged Hawks flying overhead. While this was mostly in jest, I did spend some time staring up at the clouds. I did also have a single Sharp-shinned Hawk move through the area, moving tree to tree three or four times on a pretty direct path from North to South. I didn't have a chance to ask if it was migrating, but that's my suspicion. 

Checking in for the night

Douglas Creek is a spot that I knew I wanted to come back to this year. My fondest memory prior to this year centered around a September camping trip from a few years back. I drove from Badger Mountain to Douglas Creek - getting lost exactly one as per usual - drove through the massive puddle and into "my" campsite.

I know it's not my campsite. But every time I roll in here, it's available, and it's got many fond memories associated with it now. The first thing I noticed on arrival is that the apples were ripe. Well. . . ripe"ish". I'd munched on some a few years earlier. This time around, some had fallen to the ground, some fell periodically during my stay, and most of those needed a little more time.

The ground was not exactly littered with apples, however, which puzzled me a little. Then the cows came. 

I have gotten almost comfortable being around cows this year. I respect that they are pretty large animals. I respect that bulls can be aggressive. So I don't know that "comfort" best describes my state as they move into the campground, but I can at least register that they are there for the apples, and carry on with setting up camp. 

The evening was pretty unremarkable otherwise. I warmed up some soup over a stove, and burned some of the apple wood lying around the site. A Red-naped Sapsucker (bird 201 for the year) called at one point from across the creek, leading me to head off on a little walk. I got a couple calls before it stopped for the evening, with no visual. 

Good night

(sleep...)

I was woken up by a few different things. The first and most pressing issue was the large animal outside of my tent. 

I was pretty sure it was a bear. ("But Tim... you were also pretty sure that one bird was a Bushtit...") I'm going to blame some of that on the normal disorientation one feels when waking up. I think camping naturally lends itself to stepping through these worse case scenarios. 

So I just stopped breathing for a half hour or so, and listened with my eyes wide. This bear was really not moving around much. It seemed pretty content to just shift its weight periodically. In my head, I tried to picture what was going on outside my tent. What do bears do that involves staying in one spot for long stretches of time. I briefly imagined it sitting down to knit a sweater (again, bear with me, so to speak, I was half asleep/half awake), but decided that I would have heard the click clack of the crochet hooks. 

The "Moo" gave it away.

(sleep...)

Western Screech-Owls tooted outside the tent for a little while, replaced by silence, occasionally interrupted by the fall of an apple. Later still, it was Common Poorwills.

(sleep...)

There was a car outside of my tent. I woke to see the south side of my tent bathed in light. For the life of me I could not figure out how a car had made its way into the campground without me hearing it, but that was clearly what had happened. 

As I lay curled up in my sleeping bag, trying to think of exactly how to greet the visitors to the campground, I slowly realized what it was. Despite the cold air around me, I got dressed and stepped out of the tent. 

Douglas Creek cuts through the land here, creating a pretty deep and narrow canyon? valley? through the land. If you're lucky enough with your timing, the full moon can put on quite a show as it slides through the Southern window of this setting. Orion and the Pleiades were in full view as well. 

I reached back in my tent for my sleeping bag, walked across the moonlit campground to my car, hopped in the driver's seat and hit the ignition. It didn't take too too long to get the temperature up from 45 degrees to something comfortable, and I turned the car back off. I figured from here, my ears would have less to feed to my imagination, and my eyes would have more to work with in getting me back to reality should I wake up again. 

(sleep...)

 

September 19th - Deposits and Inflation

"Well, you've been everywhere, haven't you?"

This was from the gal at the Renton Les Schwab, and she wasn't wrong. Burien and East Wenatchee were also on the list she'd pulled up. My slow leak had been "fixed" twice already, but my car informed me that it had dropped to 5 psi that morning. 

"Yeah. . . is there going to be some smack talk from one Les Schwab to another if you find the problem that they missed?"

She grinned and let me know that her sister worked at the East Wenatchee Les Schwab. 

So that would be a "yes".

I stepped out and looked for some lunch, and was greeted by the sound of a California Scrub-Jay. It seemed like a lot of deja vu packed into a small bit of time! Tire stores and Scrub-Jays were two pieces of a pretty satisfying September trip to Douglas County. 

Deposits

My trip started with an early morning departure and drive to Ellensburg to help get my son situated for college. What a crazy year it had been, with the campus all but closed during his freshman year. We finally had a chance to get him situated in his dorm. "It'll be the best three years of your life," seemed like an appropriate adjustment of the popular phrase. 

Well, this changes things (seen on campus)

My tire had been fixed earlier in the week at a Les Schwab in Burien, but was still leaking slowly. My vague plans of having the Ellensburg Les Schwab take a look at it were derailed by a simple reality - they're closed on Sundays. Everywhere, it would seem. 

Once we had him all set in his dorm, he had his goodbyes with his mom and his sister. I got to enjoy a little lunch with him ("while my car tire gently leaks" I heard the Beatles singing in my head). We had burgers and enormous bags of fries at the campus "U-Totem" while the typical Ellensburg wind blew the occasional french fry to the ground for the House Sparrows.

It was hard to say goodbye, but also nice to know that I'd have chances to see him on every trip to and from Douglas County. On this particular day, getting to Douglas was no small challenge.

Inflation

Down to 12 psi, I found an oil change place that was able to get the tire inflated to 40, with advice to patch it up with fix-a-flat to get me to East Wenatchee. It's not the way one wants to enter into a birding trip, but I had to be thankful for how reliable the car had been over the course of the year. To even have  a vehicle that would tell me when there was a flat tire was a nice step up from the Taurus that I had put to rest recently. 

Pressure dropped into the 20s during the trip, but did not seem too low, so I continued past East Wenatchee and made a pass through East East Wenatchee and into Rock Island. 

East East Wenatchee is not a place

I realize this, but there are times when I'm driving areas above the Hydro Park, near the airport, and it doesn't feel like I'm in East Wenatchee or Rock Island, so this is what I've come to call it. On this trip, Rock Island Road was of particular interest as I was following up some sightings of the aforementioned California Scrub-Jays. I drove it slow when possible, and had the windows down listening for these little dudes. 

California Scrub-Jays have been making their way into Eastern Washington over the last decade or so, and had added Douglas County to their county checklist in the last three years. I'd made numerous trips through some neighborhoods in search of them, but to no avail. Although I'd made a personal bet with myself that CASJ would be my 200th species for the year, I finally gave up on cruising through East East Wenatchee, and continued on to Rock Island. 

Hideaway Lake

What a great spot this has been this year. It will be interesting to see in the end how many species I found for the first time at Hideaway Lake. On this particular day, the lake held Mallards, and a robust population of Wood Duck. Nearly every tree I passed had a couple Yellow-rumped Warblers in them, and White-crowned Sparrows seemed to be plentiful as well. Golden-crowned Sparrow was the bird I was most hoping to add here. It seemed like a good enough spot, given the six species of sparrows I'd found there during the year. Sadly, none of the White-crowned Sparrows had brought a Golden-crowned along as their "plus one". 

Back at the car, things had gone south on the tire pressure. As much as I liked the idea of exploring a little more, especially along the water, I called it a day, and made my way back to the Cedars Inn for the evening.

Work had largely been cleared out for the evening, but being having the car problems grounding me, I felt just oddly off-balance. Like. . . I shouldn't even open the computer. . . but what else is there to do? Most days had been a daily grind of work - writing, editing, and revisions - for so many days on end. I had the Seahawks on for a bit, but eventually popped open the laptop, and sunk a few hours into work emails, gaming, and various YouTube spirals. 

I was away, but the escape from the day-to-day was pretty incomplete - much like my son's escape from the nest for college in the last year. I finally got to sleep, later than I'd hoped, but at least with a solid plan to get the tire problems addressed, and with an invitation to visit an East Wenatchee resident with a lead on California Scrub-Jays. 

August 18th: A lazy trip up the Columbia

 

It's August along the Columbia River, and it would feel weird not to mention that there was a lot of fruit to be had. Over the course of the three days, I purchased bags of apricots (the good ones), apples (McIntosh), and these peaches from Lone Pine Fruit and Espresso. I've given away 40 or 50 of them, and still have a sizable peach problem to deal with!

Funny story first: I included details about warblers I saw in some parks in my post on the 17th - pure lies and fabrication. I went right from the Lake Entiat Viewpoint to the Waterville STP, with no warblers whatsoever. That was from this morning. Lake Entiat, Orondo Park, and Lake Daroga State Park were my three stops during the morning. 

Warblers were found along the way, and a single Western Wood-Pewee. Honestly there were not many birds in the Columbia, outside of Mallards, Canada Geese, Ring-billed and California Gulls, and a single Common Goldeneye. That wasn't a  new bird for the yearlist, but was definitely a surprise! They will be swinging back into the county in greater numbers as the months move along, and August just seemed a bit early. 

Columbia River from Daroga State Park

All of these stops felt lazy. There were few birds out, and I kept a pretty easy pace, doing the most walking at Daroga. Daroga has this great layout with a lagoon (geography folks, please correct me) just inside of the Columbia that was teeming with ducks in the winter. I hadn't been here properly since walking the snowy paths in January and February, so this was a treat, seeing it 6 months later. 

Lone Pine Fruit and Espresso

I... was expecting just that: a place that sold fruit, and espresso. My brother had encouraged me to stop here, so I did, and at 11 ish, may have been thinking of just getting a cup of coffee and peeking at their fruit. But what a neat place. I came away with a 15 pound box of peaches, my lunch (ham and cheese sandwich with a Union Hill Cider from their cold case), a cone of licorice ice cream (oh shush, licorice haters... just don't eat it then), and a dang T-shirt. 

A fine lunch

What a perfect storm of bliss. I got an education on peaches, as there were several different varieties available. I didn't even realize that a "cling" peach was one that stuck to the pit, and that other peaches are called "freestone" peaches. And I got to sample the peaches before buying them. They were perfect. Perfect for me at the moment. You know you've had peaches that are ripe... but are dangerously soft, and will likely last about two minutes. You've also had peaches that you think will ripen on your counter, but sit there for several days and are still oddly unripe. These were just ripe enough to eat. A little firm, but nothing you'd regret eating. I've had some today (a day later), and they've gotten even better. Get those peaches. 

So there I sat, and just enjoyed the company of some unshy House Sparrows as I sipped on a cider and ate my lunch. The umbrella kept the sun off, and the light breeze was perfect. 

And I thought about Barn Owls. 

Hear me out here. They're a bird that I haven't found this year, and there are precious few sightings recorded on eBird. The few locals that I've asked (yep... "Do you know anyone with a barn?" has come up in conversations) have only vaguely mentioned Waterville as a place they've happened to see them. Why not in the agricultural areas down by the Columbia? 

Lunchtime companions

My best thought is that orchards and say... wheat fields... are just different ecosystems. If I'm a mouse, I'm liking the wheat field wayyyy better. An apple up in a tree isn't doing me much good, and the apple trees themselves aren't giving me much cover. And Barn Owls eat, among other things (?), mice. There have been sightings of Barn Owls along the Columbia, but I am going to need to look this over kind of carefully to figure out where to do this search. 

Last Call!

Bridgeport, I believe, was my final destination. I made stops at Starr Boat Launch, and a few other places in Chelan County after crossing the Beebe Bridge - looking across the Columbia, there wasn't much to see outside of a few common gulls. By the time I crossed back into Douglas at Lake Pateros, I was pretty beat. I pulled over at one of the huge pulloffs and just took a nap in the car. 

I woke after a nice little 15 minute catnap, and got the scope aimed out the window at Lake Pateros. 

!

=199 - American White Pelican.  I know the question you're asking, "What kind of a jerk even posts a picture like that?" This kind of a jerk! I can zoom in on this one: 

not much better

I think pictures like this are necessary for truth in advertising ("...forgettable pictures of birds..."), but for what it's worth, I also picked up a pelican shortly thereafter from the Okanogan side.

Can you find the Pelican in the picture? :)

Before leaving Lake Pateros on the Douglas side, I also spotted some more Bonaparte's Gulls. They were a bit closer in than the pelicans, so I had better luck with them:

Bonaparte's Gull

Still not the most beautiful shot, but nice to be able to document a less common gull. 

And that was it! 199 seemed like the perfect number for leaving. I'm coming back in September either way, but it's fun to have that 200th species dangling out there in front of me. 

What's bird number 200 going to be??? Place your bets in the comments section if you'd like. My year list and running tally is fully updated. Keep in mind I'm coming back in September, and keep in mind that I'm probably coming in through Rock Island as I have done nearly every single month. First comment with the correct guess wins a Lone Pine coffee mug. If you're on the East side of the state, I'll leave it there for you. If you're on the West side, we can figure something out. 

I'm kind of curious myself about what it will be. Birds, as it turns out, fly. And September is a month where a whole lot of them are doing a lot of flying.

August 17th - Due Diligence

Due diligence was the theme of the day. It did indeed start with a good dose of diligence. Circling back on some writing, and a little bit of editing, I was still at the hotel when the 7 AM breakfast was offered. This is an unusual occurrence for me in any season. A little more peeking at eBird, and I was ready to get out the door. 

My first destination was the Waterville STP once more, although it wasn't my first stop. Stops of course are completely different! My first stop along the Columbia was the Lake Entiat Viewpoint. 

This has been a nice little spot over the course of the year! It gives a view of Lincoln Rock off to the South, and has a nice little cove to the North. On this day, there were some gulls to pick through out on the Columbia. 

Most of them were looking fairly Californian. I found one at a distance that may have been a Ring-billed... but not likely anything new for the year. Looking up North, there was a gull that was a little smaller, and looked a little messier, so I did decide I wanted to go check it out. 

Bonaparte's Gull! (195 for the year). It had a little spot behind its eye, making it an easy ID. I went back for my camera... and it left. I was a little bummed, as it's always nice to get a picture for the tougher birds - these were a code 3 bird (seen annually, but difficult to find), that I was hoping to find sometime during fall migration. 

Orondo Park was another stop on the Columbia, and between the two stops, the warblers were notably present - Wilson's, Yellow, and Yellow-rumped. Not a massive number of them, but they were definitely present through the morning. All of the ones I came across were pretty recognizable, and I'll be honest - I was a little glad not to get caught flat-footed with anything too rare! I wanted to really spend some time in a few other places.

Waterville STP

The Waterville STP seemed worth another visit. Yes, I'd just been there the night before, but I wanted a chance to see the birds through some improving light in the morning, rather than the dimming light of the evening. I also figured birds would move along - either to the STP, or away from it - over the course of a few days. Why not see how things had changed? 

Many of the same characters were present, although a Lesser Yellowlegs (196), was kind enough to give a "Tu" call as it landed next to one of its bigger cousins. That was new for the year, and not unexpected. 

I got in a pretty good groove with positioning, occasionally ending up in a good spot to shoot some of the peeps. I had my mind set on finding a Semipalmated Sandpiper, and with enough searching, came away with one (197).

I floated this picture out to another birder to confirm. I just... shorebirds, as noted from the previous day stress me out a little bit, so I wanted to give this bird enough doubt and get some eyes on it. The best part of his response, "The key to finding Semipalmated Sandpipers in Washington is to bird alone and without a camera." I guess I blew it! This bird is in many ways just a stubby-billed version of the Western Sandpiper. But there's some variation with the bills, of course, so... stubby enough?? was the worry in my head. Apparently yes.

One last new bird for the year: 

A Pectoral Sandpiper (198). This is the big guy standing in the middle of the picture. They're often described as "A giant version of a Least Sandpiper". The heavy streaking on the breast also sets them apart, and gives them their name. 

For perspective: a shot that included Pectoral, Least, Western, Baird's, and Semipalmated Sandpipers

Quick stop

Content after a few hours of staring at peeps, I moved along. I wanted to get to Jameson Lake, and was torn on whether to use the North or South entrance. This lake somehow does not have through traffic between the two ends! I'm sure it keeps traffic light, which isn't a bad thing for a resort setting. In the end, I decided to use the North entrance. 1) I hadn't been there 2) Sage Grouse have been seen in that area South of Mansfield, and 3) Grimes Lake was another stop I wanted to make, as shorebirds had been reported there as well. 

Approaching Grimes Lake

The drive was not all that birdy, although it was still neat to see many of the fields post-harvest, some of them sprinkled with baled timothy hay. Grimes Lake did not disappoint. It gave me no new birds for the year, but the mud was great, and there were 50 or so shorebirds working it. Least, Western, and Semipalmated Sandpipers. Greater Yellowlegs at the very least - I did not pore over any of the yellowlegs any more closely. At this point, I was really looking for Semipalmated Plovers - birds that never materialized.

This is absolutely worth a stop for someone shorebirding in Douglas. Without those alkali lakes like Atkins available, they're a must. 

Jameson Lake Resort, the main building at least, survived the fires from the previous fall. They did take some losses with other smaller buildings on the property, but they fared better than Jak's Resort on the South end. 

Jameson Lake Resort

They were closed, but that hasn't seemed to stop the people of Douglas County from helping someone out. I was greeted by one of the owners who gave me a "Can I help you?" (and not that cold, uninviting version of the question that we hear now and then). I found out that they were closed for the season, but he offered me a drink from the restaurant if I had wanted one. I declined, but it was just more of the same friendliness I'd encountered throughout the trip. 

I was told I was welcome to bird the shore, and I picked up a few birds - Double-crested Cormorants, American Coots, and Western Grebes. No Parasitic Jaeger patrolling the lake, but my imagination still thinks it's possible that one has done so in a similar time of year.

Big Bend Wildlife Area

Oh man, what to report? I went back to look for Sharp-tailed Grouse, and to walk the path until I saw the Columbia. Those were the two goals. My first goal may have been achieved five minutes into my walk as a dozen grouse took flight from the trail beside me and flew over a nearby crest. I pulled up my binoculars, moved them to the out of focus grouse, and started to foc... they're gone whoops. 

These clouds did no more than sprinkle on me

I would not have minded at all seeing these birds. I'd really like to see them. But it wasn't my day for seeing them. Walking the 5 miles of trail to see the Columbia? That was in my control. So I did. 

If you do walk it, these are the trees at the bottom of the hill past the second gate - some had woodpecker nest holes, so they're not completely uninteresting!

The birds were few and clumpy: a family of Spotted Towhees, a family of Lark Sparrows, a dozen Western Meadowlarks, three Say's Phoebes. Each of those were individual sightings, and not seen anywhere else. 

Do you know your berries? What were these?

Berries were out. Grasshoppers were out. Good food for the grouse, for sure, there just weren't any grouse for me to see. 

I'll be honest - this took some pushing to get to the end of this trail. Dark clouds were overhead during most of the walk, making me doubt my clothing choices. I got to the point of the trail I'd walked before, and continued onward, working from my memory of the trail map I'd pored over many a time in the last few months. Still, there were times where it really seemed like the end of the road was right over the next crest... and it wasn't. I was nearly done when I hit the third gate, wrestling to get the clever contraption closed. It turns out it wasn't much farther.

No panorama abilities here, so this was a little bit of cutting and pasting :D

2-3 inches long on this feather. Thoughts?

I don't know if I've talked about it in this blog or others, but this really is one of the joys of exploring new places: Getting a mental picture of what to expect, some abstract idea of a place, and then actually going there, and converting it to a real place in your mind. I kind of wanted to keep going to the Columbia itself? But only kind of. 5 miles is a bit of a slog, and had been about two hours of walking. It felt okay to head back, having seen the area. 

I have thoughts on it habitat-wise... I know I've talked a bit about the possibilities I've imagined here. It's too much to summarize. I'm able to ramble, but this would even be a ramble for me. Like... do I still think this is a place where one could find Least Flycatchers? Whoo boy. I have some revisiting to do before I could even think about that question, and it's one of ten or so species that I had in mind when I looked at this place. 

Ask me again when we're out birding some time. 

I'm getting less timid around cows, but am still offended when I get this "Can I help yoo?" look.

Back to the car. 10 miles in total. Close encounters with cattle, the arrival of Common Nighthawks, and a drive back to Wenatchee with a little bit of chafing from those ten miles! I stopped in Applebee's for a late dinner in Wenatchee. I'm certain I'd been at that very one during my Chelan year. And then it was off to bed with 198 birds checked off of my Douglas year list. 

P.S. on the title: I hadn't found my grouse, but I think 10 miles of walking in good habitat counts as due diligence. Giving all of those shorebirds a third and fourth look felt like it counted as well, so the title this time around seemed to fit the day. 

August 16th - Hazy Orange and Dusky Blue

The World was Orange

The Columbia River... or perhaps Mars

A fire roared south of Ellensburg as I made the trip from Renton towards Douglas County. The smoke was billowing up over Manastash Ridge, and heading Northeast from there towards Douglas. Taking my usual route into the county, I actually broke free of the smoke for a bit before I circled back into it. 

Are you a footprint expert? Mollusk-er? What's all this? 

The shot here is from the Apricot Orchard Boat Launch. I liked the *idea* of this place, so I took another look for the odd gull or tern, or maybe even a heron or pelican on the river. It was pretty dang quiet, bird-wise. It was just quiet. There was a nice breeze, and the smoky sky kept things at a pretty pleasant temperature.

It had been a pretty long week. Week? That is a word for people whose weeks end. Four writing projects had slipped into seven, and deadlines were often stepping on each other's toes. Rather than run away for a day, and then jump right back into it, I decided to go with a lazy three days. Lazy work-wise, because I'd be birding with most of my waking hours. Lazy birding wise, because I was going to be writing back at the hotel in the evening, and again in the morning before heading out. 

I'd also narrowed down the places I truly needed to visit for my August trip. Shorebirds were the main course for the trip, with a side of river views like this. The mud along the river, and some of the footprints piqued my interest, so I just found a big rock and sat on it. 

Chalk this up as just another one of those moments where words don't really do it. I can tell you the world was orange, that the sandymuddy shores of the Columbia were speckled with mollusk shells that I couldn't recognize, my brain simply registering this lazily. I can say the temperature was "nice", and that the sound of the water lapping up against the shore. Nobody needed anything, and (my birding "needs list" notwithstanding) I didn't need anything either. 

The sum of all of those words just still falls short. For this, I deeply apologize, and just hope y'all are getting out there and finding unspeakably pleasant simple moments of your own. 

Union Hill Cider Company

On the other side of the fine line

It's amazing how much difference a little drive made. I went West and watched the blue, cloudy sky grow in front of me while the orange and haze passed behind me. I'd forgotten to check on the hours at Union Hill Cider, but knew I had my summer "shipment" to pick up. I rolled into the driveway, and was greeted by one of the owners. They were closed, but he was happy to get the bottles to me. Being a sucker for cleverly named beverages, I also picked up a bottle of "Sur lie, you can't be serious", a cider that was allowed to spend a little time in some oak barrels. 

Not an uncommon sight during the trip

In retrospect, I would have to say this was the first positive customer service I experienced on the trip. That's a weird way to put it... What you need to realize is that during this *whole* trip, anywhere I stopped, people were about 20 percent more pleasant. I knew that this bit would end up sounding like a Yelp review of the county, but it was notable, so I was willing to risk that characterization. 

I made my standard pass through the Scrub-jay "bushtit" neighborhood. Windows down, listening for anything interesting. Nothing. It's fine. September will give me that scrub-jay. 120 percent guaranteed.

Check-in

Two Lego hands reaching across the sky to each other, right?

I dropped in at the Holiday Lodge in Wenatchee with vaguely guilty feelings for my lack of county fidelity here - how could I lay my head down in Chelan County during this year?? But for a two-night stay, I really did need to hunt down the best rate I could. A quick look at the time, and at the time for sunset told me that I needed to squeeze in some quick shorebirding.

Waterville STP

On the way to the STP - clear skies

Oh boy. I gotta tell you folks, shorebirding stresses me out. I mean, yay! fun. But I'M NOT VERY GOOD AT BIRDING is the chorus in my head any time I'm looking at shorebirds. Lesser or Greater Yellowlegs? Short- or Long-billed Dowitcher? Western or Least Sandpiper? Killdeer, or American Avocet? 

Some of these questions are questions that I struggle with. I mean... not all of them, of course. pfft. What kind of birder do you take me for? 

Wilson's Snipe! A nice unexpected softball 
of a shorebird to open my visit.

The sun was a little lower, but still gave me enough to work with. As I rolled in to the STP, the first pond was fairly empty as expected. I rolled up to the second, and dozens of peeps took flight from the near corner, flying to the other side of the pond. This was a pattern I worked hard to work around during all of my time here. The birds were fairly close and well lit during some golden moments, so I was happy with the efforts. 

A Wilson's Snipe was the first and easiest bird of the evening. It even stayed still as I took the picture. All to try and quiet my doubts. Thanks, Wilson's Snipe. I appreciate the gesture.

Circling the pond counterclockwise (the correct way to circle these ponds in these situations), I picked up Least and Western Sandpipers, Spotted Sandpipers and Killdeer. These were not new. 

Three birds, however, were new. One of them was not too hard on me: Red-necked Phalarope (bird 192 for the year!). 

In the fall, these guys come flying through Puget Sound. I remember the first ones I found, whirling around in circles in the wake behind a ferry to Vashon. The marks behind the eyes and the thin bills narrow down the ID pretty easily. I needed the book for this, but it was at least easy with the book. 

The next bird for the year was a little harder. One of them has its butt poking into the picture there. Even from that, I can just about ID it now, but at the time, my brain had to squint a little bit. Baird's Sandpipers (193) have wings that are longer than the tails. I usually have to 1) look that fact up, and then 2) pantomime folding my wings back so that I can think about which ones are "the top ones" on the bird 3) look back at the picture in the book, and then finally 4) look at a bird posing like you can see above, where it's actually not immediately obvious which one is longer. 

This is like... a half hour of me figuring out a Baird's Sandpiper. 

Like these birds. Maaaybe the top one is more obvious? At any rate, my focus was on this. I also know vaguely that they are buffy. They have buffiness. Again, it's usually back to the books to see where. Buffy breast band. Roger. That's something visible on these birds too. The next thing (for me) is the legs. They're black. I remember that now, and should be able to remember that next time. . . right? There's something else about the face that really should be simple for me. I'm looking at the faces right now, and I just know it's not some other peep, they're just Baird's Sandpipers. 

Finally, mixed in with some Long-billed Dowitchers, and trying to act like them was this bird:

And of course, at first my brain says: It's with Long-billed Dowitchers, and it's smaller... Boom. Short-billed Dowitcher. But looking at it in the book, I knew this was wrong pretty quickly. It may not even have been until the trip back to the hotel that I accidentally thumbed past Stilt Sandpiper (194), and realized that it's what I was looking at. There are descriptions out there that say appear to borrow features from both yellowlegs and dowitchers. 

Perfect.  I can work with that. 

See... for me, confusion species are gold. I need to know what to compare a bird to, and I need to know what the difference is between the two birds. But in the birding world, unfortunately it feels like few people get as confused as I do! The first time I saw a Stilt Sandpiper, I asked a birder with me, "So... what's a bird that someone could confuse this with?" And they just shook their head and said, "Nothing. It's a distinctive bird." 

Waterville STP 

Please folks... cognitive empathy. The world won't lose anything with a little cognitive empathy! And like... let's start with shorebird identification if you want, but keep running with it. 

1) Think of all of the pieces of a bird.

2) Think about other birds that have similar bits and pieces.

3) Cognitively piece together how someone could get to a different conclusion if they were looking at the wrong bits and pieces, or not looking at the important ones. 

4) Try to help. Make it a place where people don't feel bad asking questions. 

Westward bound - Highway 2 at sunset

I've found these abilities in some of the best birders, and in some novice birders. Can you care about proper identification AND have cognitive empathy? I honestly think it's possible. You can say, "Oh.. I understand how that's similar to a yellowlegs, for sure." even if you'd never personally mix up the two.

In a world where people more and more know that they've got things right, and that the other people are idiots, would a little cognitive empathy help? Oh lord yes. I know we started on shorebirds, but... there's a lot of "Why don't those idiots understand . . . " out there. 

Sorry for the ramble, y'all. Sorry for all the rambling! At the end of the day (as it was here), there's some things that are more important than these bird identifications, and they sometimes slip in here. 

Not a bad evening! I slipped back down off the plateau, and back to Wenatchee, enjoying the dusky blue sky as I drove. I was guilty of sneaking a little work in before my head hit the pillow.