Greater Sage-Grouse Lek, and the Road to Malheur

A few weeks ago, Maureen and I headed to eastern Oregon to see some great birds, and celebrate our 10-year(!) anniversary. We booked a trip to Malheur NWR before the refuge actually opened back up, post-occupation, and lucked-out when they announced that everything would be accessible again, except for the HQ. Since we were heading that way anyway, priority numero uno would be an overnight stop in Bend in hopes of seeing a Greater Sage-grouse lek.

Pronghorn

Pronghorn butt

Yellow-bellied Marmot

The adventure started on our first night out, though. Just as we were heading into the mountains, not long before we headed into a surprise blizzard, with the sun dropping quickly behind us, we found ourselves at a living roadblock. A gigantic Elk was straddling our narrow lane (lifer mammal, finally). I braked and it took off downslope like a lightning bolt.

Sage-grouse, we heard, might be found strutting about from an hour before sunrise to an hour after. We headed out plenty early, and made a beeline for the coordinates of the eBird hotspot. Nothing. We pulled over and hoped for the best when a pair of birders with the same goal pulled up. They seemed just as lost as us, but fortunately they knew who to call for more specific directions, and soon we convoyed over to the right spot. 

Greater Sage-Grouse lek

For the most part, the bulk of the grouses (grice?) stayed mostly obscured behind tall grasses, but the occasional male would wander over toward a clearing, giving open, albeit distant, views. As far as we could tell, there were at least 13 males putting on a show, with no females to impress but Maureen (sorry guys, she's taken). 

Maureen taking her photography to new heights

Even though we found them at about sunset, we still got to spend another two hours with them. Eventually, around 8:30 a pack of coyotes started howling from far off, but it was enough to spook the grouses/grice and they all scattered.

With our main target out of the way, we headed to Malheur NWR. Our first stop in Harney County was the Sage Hen Rest Area, which we remembered fondly from last year for the omnipresent Mountain Bluebirds taking advantage of the nest boxes hung all around. Also along Hwy 20 we had some nice looks at Pronghorn just off the side of the road. It's great to come out this way, and see these awesome animals everywhere. It's especially great when they're not sprinting away from you at 55 mph (fun fact: Pronghorn aren't true antelopes; their closest relatives are giraffes and okapis).

Mountain Bluebirds

Mountain fluffball

Pronghorn

Now we hit Malheur proper. OR-205 runs south along the length of the refuge, from Burns to Fields, and some of the best birding opportunities are along here. Not only did we find thousands of Snow and Ross's Geese, we started picking out dozens of Black-necked Stilts and American Avocets - some of our favorites shorebirds that you'll see featured in a future post. 

Snow and Ross's Geese, Black-necked Stilts, and American Avocets

Yellow-headed Blackbird

Say's Phoebe

The refuge HQ is still closed while the authorities catalogue the evidence that will hopefully keep the Bundy crew in prison for the maximum sentence (P.S., fuck the Bundys). The HQ is spectacular, and it was a shame to pass it up, but the nearby Field Station was open. It was too early for the Cliff Swallows to start nesting like we found them last year, but we were content with some splashes of yellow that brightened up the place. 

(Audubon's) Yellow-rumped Warbler

Yellow-headed Blackbird

Belding's Ground-squirrel

Swainson's Hawk

Down the auto route tour, we started seeing Black-tailed Jackrabbits in greater numbers. We must have seen 50 over the weekend, darting every which way, including out in front of the car. 

Black-tailed Jackrabbit

Tree Swallows

Cinnamon Teal pair

We would spend the night in Frenchglen (population: 8), but when we got into town there was still enough light for one more stop, so we headed to P Ranch for a quick stroll. As the sun started to drop, the Turkey Vultures started crowding into their roosts, the most prominent of which was an old fire lookout (I assume). At the same time, we started hearing the most eerie sound all around us. And it kept moving, first far away, and then practically on top of us. We searched and searched, and couldn't turn up any clue until I picked out a shorebird directly above us. It took some detective work, but we soon figured out it was being made by several Wilson's Snipes. It wasn't a call exactly, but the winnowing noise they make with their tail feathers as they display in flight. Between that and the colors of the sunset reflected off the mountains, it was a truly awesome end to our first day.

Turkey Vulture roost

You Must Be Lost

Georgia has had an embarrassment of riches lately, with some pretty outstanding birds making their way either farther north, south, or east than usual. Maureen and I aren't the most spirited chasers, but some birds are just too good or too close to pass up.

Our winning streak (winging streak?) started a few weeks ago with a Tundra Swan at Altamaha Wildlife Management Area. It was the same weekend that the Georgia Ornithological Society had its seasonal meeting on Tybee Island, and this concentration of the state's top birders into the area was leaving no rarity unreported. We met a GOS field trip while we were there and, since we had little idea where the swan actually was in this expansive system of impoundments, we tagged along with them. The swan was right where it had been seen during the previous days though, and gracefully fed and preened until we finally walked away contented.

Tundra Swan -- Believe it or not, the swan photos are all phonoscoped

Tundra Swan

Tundra Swan

That very evening a Western Kingbird was spotted at Ft. Pulaski, just 10 minutes from our apartment. We had literally just changed after returning from the swan when we got the call. We were totally spent from a long morning, and pretty set on a nap, so as painful as it was, we decided to put it off until the next day, hoping for the best. And our plan paid off beautifully. Several other birders arrived at the same time, just after the gates opened, and we split up to maximize our coverage. It was relocated low in a tree after about 45 minutes of searching, and gave mostly semi-obscured looks. As more and more birders streamed in, though, the kingbird started acting more like the star attraction it was. Planting itself right on top of a cistern, out in the open, as we all crowded around in adoration. And he loved every second of it, letting us soak him in until everyone had their fill.

Western Kingbird

Western Kingbird

Western Kingbird

Then last weekend, we made our way to Savannah National Wildlife Refuge (confusingly, across the river in South Carolina) to find a reported Cinnamon Teal. It had been fairly reliably found between mile markers 2 and 2.5, and sure enough, it was right there, doing a terrible job of hiding amongst the hundreds of Green-winged Teal. The teal, like the Tundra Swan, was a lifer for us, and we couldn't help but remark on the aptness of the name. It's just so -- cinnamon!

Cinnamon Teal

But our luck didn't end there. The very next day (a Monday, no less), we got a third-hand scoop about a Snowy Owl on Tybee Island. I was just leaving work, when Maureen told me she had a voicemail from our friend Diana that was almost too good to be true. A Snowy Owl (the same one?) had been seen on St. Simon's Island in December, and we spent a significant portion of my birthday trying to track it down, to no avail. Now here it was, just 15 minutes away! Unfortunately, the sun was fading fast and we still had to pick up our gear. It was already dusk by the time we parked, but how hard can it be to pick out a bright white bird? Not very. We stepped out of the car, turned around, and saw a shape silhouetted against the sky. Literally the first thing we looked at was the Snowy Owl. Even in the dark, it was breathtaking.

Snowy Owl -- phonoscoped at night

We woke up early the next morning before work, to try and see it in the daylight, but to no avail. (Diana Churchill has some great shots up on her blog, though). Hopefully, this doesn't mean our streak is at an end. A Northern Lapwing (!), Georgia's first on record, is relatively nearby, in Statesboro. Man, that's a crazy good bird. Hang on, lapwing, we're coming!

Dawn sky over the pier

It's hard to get too upset about missing the Snowy when we got to see a sunrise like this before work

Sunrise over Tybee Island