Northeastern Oregon's Winter Specialties

A month and a half into the new year I had pretty well covered my bases with Western Oregon's winter birds. My year list stood at 192, and it was time for a foray into new territory. Plans for a trip materialized just in time for a winter storm of historic significance to hit Portland and the Gorge. This set things back a week, but ultimately created the perfect conditions for finding our target birds.

February 19:

Nolan came down from Corvallis to pick me up and we were on the road early with muffins, coffee, and high expectations. Our only traffic slow down of the entire trip came in Portland along 205 as crews still worked to clean up downed limbs and debris from the previous week.

Before long we were in Hood River picking up Black-crowned Night-Herons for our year and county lists, and then it was on to the Dalles. Arriving to a large group of gulls at the Lone Pine Island viewpoint got our blood pumping. The entire flock was facing us, making it virtually impossible to assess mantle color. But that didn't stop Nolan from picking up on a bird that stood out the mass of California Gulls—an immature bird standing a little taller than the surrounding gulls, sporting a black bill, clean white upper parts, a dark mantle (seen when it moved a few times), and a pale iris all sealed the deal: second cycle Lesser Black-backed Gull!

Lesser Black-backed Gull!

A bird of this age, likely this very one, was seen here back in November, and across the river in Washington in January, but hadn't been reported back at this site in a number of months. Lesser Black-backed was on our radar while in the gorge, but finding one in the first group of gulls we checked was quite the surprise. This species continues to increase in Oregon and across many places in North America, and it is likely to become even more regular in the years to come. Nonetheless, this was a huge find, and it was my first for Oregon. Nolan broke out the state lifer chocolate, we celebrated the early trip boost of momentum, then hit the road again.

We picked up some county birds on the Wasco/Sherman County line, highlighted by a Black-crowned Night-Heron that left its companion in Sherman to fly west into Wasco for us. Quite kind. The well known Saw-whets in Sherman were a piece of cake to find, making for a fun first encounter with this species for the year. We spent all of 30 seconds saying hello then let them be.

Northern Saw-whet Owls

Back on the road we had Black-billed Magpies fly by, which is the one true sign that you've arrived in Eastern Oregon.

Phillipi Canyon provided a nice easy stop off the highway with sprawling views and vocal Canyon Wrens, always a treat to see and hear these gregarious little birds.

After a quick stop in Arlington we set our sites on La Grande. I-84 ascended to the pass at Meacham, where conifers caked in snow lined the highway. It felt like a portal to a magical land, and in a way it was. All we could do is remark over and again about how excited we were to be arriving in Northeastern Oregon. La Grande sits in a quaint valley between the dominant mountain ranges of the region: the Wallowas to the east, the Blues to the west. Though we arrived to falling snow followed by fog, the feeling a being hemmed in by these two mountain ranges was still palpable.

In the dying light of our first day we put in an effort to find the long staying Blue Jays but came up empty. Not a problem, as there would be other opportunities.

Nolan's parents, Steve Clements and Arlene Blumton, were incredibly gracious to let me crash at their place in the midst of the pandemic, and they were wonderfully hospitable hosts. It often seems quite easy to connect with fellow bird people, and this instance was no different. Shared interest in birds and the broader natural world so frequently translates to a similar disposition towards much of the rest of life. Little did we know we had quite the shared experience waiting for us the next day.

February 20:

If you're going to properly track down all of the "should-get" species in a given year in Oregon, you'll inevitably find yourself in each quadrant of the state multiple times. In the winter, Bohemian Waxwing and American Tree Sparrow sit atop the seasonal target list in Northeastern Oregon. Gray Partridge and Gray-crowned Rosy-Finch can be found at other times of the year, but they are easiest to snag in this area at this time, so they are also a part of the wants list for any birder who makes it out there over the winter months. The four of us piled into the Forester and headed east to Wallowa County, which has a handful of roads famous for producing our sought after species.

Before we were even out of Union County a flock of 40 Gray-crowned Rosy-finches appeared in a barn yard along the side of the road. We would see a few more before the day was out.

School Flat and Golf Course Roads get much of the attention from visiting birders, but we got off of Highway 82 one system of roads earlier. The seven miles along Whiskey Creek and Jim Town Roads made for an incredible start to the day.

Near the beginning of Whiskey Creek Road, a Townsend's Solitaire sat quietly atop a juniper. Just a few lengths of the car later our first Gray-crowned Rosy-Finch in Wallowa appeared. We got out to inspect it as it hopped along the road, and this wound up being our best view all day of the "Gray-crowned" subspecies, which nests in the Rockies and winters in Oregon in rather small numbers. Can't really ask for better looks:

"Gray-crowned" subspecies of the Gray-crowned Rosy-finch

from the Department of Redundancy Department

Moments later we were waist deep in a flock of 150 of the "Hepburn's" subspecies:

"Hepburn's" Gray-crowned Rosy-finch

most likely not named after Audrey

As the large flock foraged on a brushy hillside, a handful of Gray Partridge began to emerge and then flew over us (!) only to return to the hill, where they called incessantly (recording on this checklist). It's the first time I recall hearing them, at least that well. Getting to see the orange outer tail feathers in flight was also a first. A great way to see species #200 for the year!

Gray Partridge

no pear trees

Jim Town Road hosted a couple groups of both rosy-finches and partridge, a sharp looking "Harlan's" Red-tailed Hawk, and a relatively closer encounter with a juvenile Golden Eagle. Note how every color of the surrounding scene is replicated somewhere on the eagle. Camouflage is tricky for a bird this size, but it still makes a legitimate effort to blend in to its habitat.

Golden Eagle

The day was off to a roaring start, and spirits were high as we arrived on School Flat and Golf Course Roads.

School Flat Road Views

A couple happy birders squinting due to the immensely bright surroundings

It felt as though every time we came around a new bend in the road, another flock of rosy-finches would appear.

Gray-crowned Rosy-finch

We came upon a pasture along School Flat, and the exposed ground was a magnet for the birds. A large flock of Horned Larks joined the action with the rosy-finches and partridge.

Gray Partridge

Gray-crowned Rosy-finch

Before long, our first American Tree Sparrows of the day appeared. After our first sighting it seemed like we saw them steadily for the rest of the day.

American Tree Sparrow

Did I mention there were a few rosy-finches around?

Gray-crowned Rosy-finches

You have to be a special kind of nutty to ride along with the windows down on a winter day in Wallowa, but this questionable activity does pay off from time to time, and it certainly did on Golf Course Road when a group of Horned Larks flew over the car accompanied by the diagnostic rattle of a Lapland Longspur!

Lapland Longspur

Horned Larks, Lapland Longspur, and Gray-crowned Rosy-finch

This wasn't a year bird, but it was still an exciting find for the day, as was the case with the next mega flock of birds we found: Snow Buntings!

Snow Buntings

All of that, and it wasn't even noon yet. The constant barrage of birds was staggering to behold. Things finally quieted down as we arrived in Joseph. We walked the streets for a while, searching unsuccessfully for Blue Jays and Pine Grosbeaks, but on the south end of town we ran into a flock of 80 Bohemians!

Bohemian Waxwings

Wallowa Lake had a single bird on it: a drake Barrow's Goldeneye. As we left the parking lot on the north end of the lake, yet another group of partridge appeared.

Gray Partridge

The early afternoon lull threatened to set in, so we stopped at Arrowhead Chocolates in Joseph for a pick-me-up. I'll be stopping there for coffee every time I'm in town for the rest of always.

Caffeinated and ready for more birds, we made our way up to the Ferguson Sno-Park. It was very quiet, but my first Mountain Chickadees of the year were still calling in the distance. The only other bird was a flyover raven.

On the way to Elk Mountain Road we encountered more American Tree Sparrows, another large flock of rosy-finches, and our first snowfall of the day. A large falcon got us excited for a moment, but it turned out to be a Prairie rather than the Gyr that has been around all winter. Still a fun sight in the blizzard-like conditions. As we watched the falcon, a flock of 600+ rosy-finches rose up out of the nearby pasture, a few Snow Buntings in tow.

Prairie Falcon

The snow fell hard, but not for long. It made for a nice reminder of just how perfect the conditions had been all day long. The previous week's snow drove all of the birds to exposed ground and roadsides, but the roads themselves were in great condition for driving. We could not have asked for better timing.

Next we poked around a few spots in Enterprise. This hybrid goldeneye was the highlight of our stop at Pete's Pond. Note how the white spot on the face, the pattern on the back, and even the head shape are all intermediate between Common and Barrow's.

hybrid Common x Barrow's Goldeneye

We encountered our second flock of Bohemian Waxwings in town as well, and got much better looks this time around. Enterprise doesn't get as much coverage as Joseph it seems, so it turns out this was the first flock of Bohemians reported here this year.

Bohemian Waxwings

We were over twenty checklists deep into the day at this point. My thumbs were tired from all the eBirding, but when we finally slowed down to take a look at the numbers it was all worth it. We had recorded 1,750 Gray-crowned Rosy-finches, spread over 12 different checklists! We figured with our conservative estimates on the large flocks that it was quite possible that we saw upwards of 2,000. Nolan started doing the math and estimated that we saw right around 100 pounds worth of rosy-finch for the day. Given that we laughed with joy with each new flock that appeared, a comical measurement like that seemed quite fitting. Back in La Grande we finished out the day with tasty takeout and Oregon Fog from Side A.

It was one of those unforgettable days that frequent the life of an avid birder. We saw all our targets, yes, but it was the volume and manner in which we saw them that provided the greater joy. Sometimes you just need to be blown away by the birds.

February 21:

Before making our trip home, Nolan and I spent a while walking around La Grande looking for Blue Jays. After an hour of fruitless searching we were starting to get nervous, though my waaaaay overdue first Hairy Woodpecker of the year added some comedy to moment. Then an odd corvid call drew our attention, and then another. It was not the standard call we were expecting, but when we arrived at the source we found our target flying across the road. Two Blue Jays dove deep into a thicket, never to appear again. All our searching culminated in a three second observation that didn't even give me enough time to snag a photo. But this was still a huge moment: another state lifer for me, and an important bird on an ever-growing year list.

A handful of stops along the gorge yielded a few more county birds, the best of which was a Clark's Grebe continuing in the Dalles. Our last stop of the trip was an unsuccessful search for Harris's Sparrow on Sauvie Island, but the constant sounds and display of Sandhill Cranes and Snow Geese overhead made for a perfect spectacle to round out a wonderful three days of birding.

As I wrap up this post I'm sitting at 210 species for the year in Oregon so far, I'm really ready for it to not be February any longer, and plans are in full swing for a busy Spring of seeing every bird I possibly can. On to the next!

When All You Can Painted Bunting is Think About

January sizzled from start to finish, and apparently February is not about to let things settle to a simmer.

On Wednesday, a Pacific Golden-Plover was found out at Fern Ridge. Word started spreading about the sighting as Mason and I were on our normal stroll through Delta Ponds. Talking a three-year-old out of their present moment of fun into some other sort of adventure is no small task. Thankfully the idea of seeing a new place (always my go-to) and stomping in some mud was convincing enough for him. Off we went.

We arrived as the sun was getting low in the sky, which made the golden tones of this little shorebird just sing. Oregon gets two species of golden-plover each year, usually during fall migration (typically Pacific comes through on the earlier end, and American on the later, but there's plenty of exceptions). Both of them can be easy to miss if you're not on the ball, so getting one served up on a platter like this so close to home and so early in the year was a huge bonus!

Pacific Golden-Plover

Fern Ridge, Lane County

This made for some nice momentum to start the month, and the weekend sent matters into overdrive.

On the afternoon of January 31 a Salem resident posted photos on Facebook of an adult male Painted Bunting at her feeder. Many times in these kinds of cases folks are willing to open up their yards for the birding masses to come enjoy the bird, and that is especially true when the homeowner is a birder. But this was not one of those cases, and you can understand why—a crowd of visitors in the backyard in the middle of a pandemic is not what most people think of as a good time. 

So, birders had only a general idea of the neighborhood where the bird was. Sometimes this can be enough to be useful. But in this case, the streets are lined with front yards devoid of greenery, and the backyards are all closed off by fences. In other words, there's no way to see into the areas where a Painted Bunting would typically like to hang out.

With only a general sense of where the bird was, a number of birders searched high and low along the surrounding streets, trying to catch of glimpse of this flashy little visitor to no avail. With no positive reports coming February 1 or 2, it seemed unlikely that the situation would develop into a stakeout.

But on the morning of February 3, Caleb Centanni spotted the bird, and things started getting interesting. Over the next couple of days, some semblance of a pattern began to develop. While the bird would spend most of its time below the fence level, a few times a day it would pop up into a tree where it was visible from a couple different vantage points. The tree is a curly willow with dense patches where it could hide from the local pesky accipiters, as well as creepers of the birding variety. From mid morning to late afternoon, the bird will hop up into that tree a handful of times. With patience and a bit of luck, there's a good chance you'd catch a glimpse.

Seeing reports of this bird start to trickle in while at work was, well... Have you seen this comical little commercial from Postmates?

When all you can Pad Thai is think about.

That was my week, just substitute in the Salem Painted Bunting. Every time a positive report would come through I would check my watch and my schedule and my workload, and every time the verdict was the same: you cannot chase right now. That did not keep me from checking my watch and my schedule and my workload every time I got a notification. But it was just too busy of a week to be able to drop everything and go.

The first moment I was free, I was northbound. I tried my luck on Friday after picking Mason up from school. He thought seeing a rainbow bird, as he came to call it, sounded like fun, and our drive to and from Salem was even easier than our post-school trek to Albany a couple weeks earlier. In the last hour and twenty minutes of daylight I felt good about our chances of seeing the bird, but it did not show. A young Cooper's Hawk stood watch the entire time, which did not help.

Rude

Go find a House Sparrow and leave our lovely guest alone please

The next morning I didn't want to put little man through the round trip again, so we stayed local and picked up a couple new birds for the year: Barn Owl and Black-bellied Plover. Mason's takeaway from an hour on the mud flats at Shore Lane Park: "I like this muddy place." Me too man. (If you ever want to watch Dunlin murmurations, this is a fantastic place for it.)

As the morning progressed, the Painted Bunting was reported again. My afternoon plans were settled. After dropping little man off at home I was right back on I-5, bunting bound. 

Thankfully it began raining right when I arrived. Wouldn't want to make this too easy, of course. For me it was not a question of how long I was going to wait for it, but simply how long it would take to show up. Andrew and I chatted for a while, and the growing group of birders reshuffled every time another arrived. It was nice chatting with Tom Crabtree for a few minutes. He didn't need the bird for his state list, but he did for his birds-photographed-in-Oregon list, which was already well over 400.

Some photographers like birds. Some birders like taking photos. Tom is the latter, and he was the first to get eyes on the flash of color that darted straight into the heart of the swirly tree. The Painted Bunting sat deep in a tangle, and it was striking just how brightly it shone from the shadows. The red on its belly and breast could be seen with the naked eye all the way from the road.

We walked up and got to an angle for some decent photos. They don't do this bird justice, but it is great to have them as a way to remember the moment.

PAINTED BUNTING

Marion County

Any day you see a male Painted Bunting is a good day, even in the areas where they usually reside. But to see one in Oregon in the middle of winter is nearly too good to be true. Nearly.

Now, let's be honest. This is not terribly sporty. It is not birding at its best. Waiting on a sidewalk between two stranger's houses, walking streets in a suburb lacking any visible shrubbery—it's not what comes to mind when I think of the many soul-nourishing times I've had in the field. This is more the obsessive collecting part of the hobby, and it's just what we do sometimes. If this is all birding was, I would need another hobby. But when I think back to that moment, I'll remember the glow of that bird and I will be plenty ready for whatever chase is next.

And on that note, it's not like there's no other birds around, even in that peculiar little neighborhood. On one of the initial searches for the bunting, Rachael Friese found a Red-naped Sapsucker just a couple blocks away. The stunning, out-of-place woodpecker showed very nicely for us:

Red-naped Sapsucker

Marion County

That duo made for a great outing. Painted Bunting was my 381st bird for Oregon, and the sapsucker was my 190th bird of the year in (Western) Oregon so far.

By the end of the day, those lists were 382 and 191, but that's a story I'll have to save for another day.

Pad Thai, anyone?

A Big January in Western Oregon

As a birder who enjoys keeping track of how many birds I see over the course of each year, January 1 is as invigorating a day as I can find on the calendar. Last year is in the books. All the numbers reset. The blank slate begs for a hint of color. Even without any particular goals in mind, the listing impulse dies hard. So, off I went on the first day of the year.

I had no way of knowing what was in store for the first month of 2021. I was certain this would be a year without birding goals and aimed to keep things casual from the outset.

Things are far from casual now. I guess you could blame the birds.

January 1:

After a cup of coffee and breakfast with the family the morning of the first, I joined up with my good friend Andrew Aldrich for some county birding in Linn. I took back roads on the way to meet him and came upon a very obliging Prairie Falcon, a great bird to get the juices flowing. Minutes later I found a Say's Phoebe flitting down a fence, an overdue Linn County bird for me, and my second quality bird before even getting to the day's target.

I pulled on to Falk Rd to find Andrew, who already had the Long-billed Curlews in view - a fantastic county bird, and actually my first encounter with this species in Western Oregon!

Long-billed Curlew

Linn County

The Willamette Valley offers endlessly entertaining winter birding. Over the next couple hours we were treated to fields full of thousands of swans, geese, and gulls, a steady diet of raptors, and one of the silly little Burrowing Owls that considers the valley's muddy ditches a nice winter getaway.

Partially-burrowed Owl

Linn County

We had some time to spare so we popped up to Corvallis and, after a few minutes of searching, got the Yellow-bellied Sapsucker that had been found a few days prior. All in all a great outing, a nice kickstart to the year.

Yellow-bellied Sapscuker

Benton County

As I pulled away from Corvallis the word began to emerge: a Yellow-billed Loon at Hagg Lake in Washington County. I didn't have any desire to chase the bird in that moment, but it did nestle itself into the back of mind.

January 2:

After a quiet day at home, I did some late afternoon birding in Lane. I watched a Merlin chase a passerine in the pouring rain, and dipped on some Short-eared Owls. On the way home I stopped by Kirk Pond to see if I could get a glimpse of the Snowy Egret that came in each night to roost there. After 20 minutes of standing in the driving rain, seeing just a few Great Egrets, and repeatedly asking myself what I was doing there, I admitted defeat and turned to take my sopping wet self home. Birders know that this is often the moment that something interesting happens. Sure enough, before I even planted my second step on the walk to the car, a group of 20 egrets appeared in the sky, and with them came a half-sized edition. I got a quick look at the Snowy Egret before its slender form dropped down behind some branches to a perch out of sight.

January 3:

I'm honestly not exactly sure what happened, but I awoke on the third day of the year with a batch of intentions I simply did not have on the first. The Yellow-billed Loon showed well all day Saturday, and the thought of a chase for a quality state lifer didn't seem so crazy. But that would have to wait until the afternoon.

Mason and I were off to Delta Ponds in the morning, the local spot we frequent a couple times a week. Since the pandemic hit, Jen and I have been in a rhythm of trading off times with the little man so the other can have some time to themselves. It's been a sanity booster for both of us.

While I chased Mason on his strider around the paths at the ponds (this used to involve a quick walk; it now requires a full on sprint), the Heyerlys reported an easy-to-see Barred Owl in a nearby neighborhood. On our way home we stopped by and got great looks:

Barred Owl

Eugene

This was Mason's first good look at an owl perched this close, and his face the moment he saw it is something I will never forget. I didn't get that exact moment, but I did capture this shot a few seconds later. He was absolutely taken with the large fluff ball up in the tree.

Then came the afternoon, and I booked it north. About 20 minutes before arriving at Hagg Lake a I received the best possible alert an Oregon birder can receive: a WhatsApp notification from a Hinkle. Chris had picked out a Rusty Blackbird from a whole mess of its blackbird relatives less than a half hour from where the loon was. Perhaps it was a good thing I had waited to come up after all.

It took a little while for the Yellow-billed Loon to appear, but before too long a group of birders was enjoying scope views of the bird from the Eagle Point Rec Area. The overall lighter, browner plumage was quite striking compared to the Common Loon in the area, and there was no mistaking that pale bill, ever pointed upwards. Score.

Yellow-billed Loon

Hagg Lake, Washington County

And then it was off to the corn stubble. I arrived at the location Chris described to find a few birders already looking for it - Kayla McCurry, Leonard Barrett, and Tom Meyers are the ones I recall. A couple hundred blackbirds and starlings flew across the field and then back and forth between trees and then back to the field. As I was just starting to get acclimated to the scene, Kayla spotted it in her scope. We all scrambled over to get a quick look. For the next half hour or so, we repeated the process: one of us would spot the bird, and the others would scurry over to get another look at it, then the flock would disperse and we'd all go back to our scopes until the next person got eyes on it. It's a comical scene in retrospect. Perfectly choreographed flocks darting across the tree-lined cornfield, taking off at a moment's notice for some reason not readily apparent to us. And the birds were probably thinking the same thing about us as we humanoids scampered from scope to scope at bewildering intervals.

I got close to a decent photo once, but then the flock took to the sky again and I only captured it flying away. Oh well. Two state lifers in two hours is pretty hard to beat!

Rusty Blackbird

Washington County

January 4:

After work on the first Monday of the year I made a quick trip out to the coast to see a couple birds that were hanging around and got a couple others thrown in. At the Crab Docks this Long-tailed Duck was one of a couple that have been lingering this winter.

Long-tailed Duck

Siuslaw South Jetty Crab Docks, Lane County

Out on the jetty the wind out of the west was fierce. The driftwood on the beach was all askew and being actively rearranged with each new wave. In the midst of the madness, I picked out a Red Phalarope flying in the channel, and this adult Black-legged Kittiwake sitting with a group of gulls.

Black-legged Kittiwake

Siuslaw South Jetty, Lane County

I assumed in such conditions that the mocker would stay hidden, but instead it popped right out and danced along the edge of the parking area:

Northern Mockingbird

Siuslaw South Jetty, Lane County

I returned home after the whirlwind trip and realized I had already seen four species of birds that I did not get in 2020. Interesting.

January 5-6:

I made a quick trip up to look for the Gyrfalcon in Polk County after work on Tuesday. I didn't see the bird, but I did manage to avoid the recliner that fell out of the truck in front of me on my way north on Highway 99W. Some days the win is a rare bird. Some days it's coming back with your life and vehicle all in one piece.

The next day I picked Mason up from Montessori and we stopped by the Lane Community College ponds, where the most reliable Eurasian Wigeons imaginable like to hang out. An easy #115 for the year.

January 7:

Nice weather and some high quality birds made for a perfect excuse to flex some hours at work and take the morning off. I met up with Andrew for the quick tour of cooperative Portland rarities:

Orchard Oriole

Clay-colored Sparrow

Great-tailed McGrackle

Back in Eugene I picked up Swamp Sparrow for my 5 mile radius list before getting back to work, which was nice way to cap off a productive, efficient morning.

January 8:

Several winters in a row now the Lehman Dairy has hosted a couple Tricolored Blackbirds. With the pair of Trumpeter Swans just a few miles down the road, it made for a quick and easy loop to pick up a couple nice birds in the home county on the final day of the work week.

Tricolored Blackbird with cowbirds and starlings

January 9:

And then things started getting a little nutty.

On the second Saturday of the year I was on the road well before 5:00 am en route to meet Andrew in Seaside by daybreak. I arrived there by 7:30 am and was met with a rather brisk wind. I reached back to grab my coat from the backseat, but my coat was not in the backseat. Nor in the front. Nor was it in the trunk. I texted Jen to confirm I was the idiot who did not bring a coat for a day of birding the coast in January. Indeed, she found it on the hook at home. Thankfully it did not rain that day.

Our target bird at Seaside was a Rock Sandpiper that had been there off and on recently. We came on an off day.

The next stop was more productive as we snagged quick looks at the stunning Hooded Oriole in Nehalem, already my third state lifer of the year!

Hooded Oriole

Next we picked up Snowy Plover for Andrew's state list at Nehalem Bay State Park before heading to Tillamook, where the highlight was this White-tailed Kite, which gave great, prolonged views perched and in flight. These birds are noticeably harder to come by now than when we moved here in 2015, so I try not to take any encounter for granted.

White-tailed Kite

We wandered the backroads around Tillamook for a bit before parting ways, hoping for a Glaucous Gull that wouldn't materialize. At that time another timely notification came through: a male Tufted Duck in Philomath!

I said goodbye to Andrew (who was busy the rest of the month finding all kinds of good birds in Portland and beyond) and started the journey south, which included a quick swipe through Basket Slough NWR that counted for my second unsuccessful trip for the Gyr.

When I arrived at the Philomath Sewage Ponds, the word was not positive. Apparently the rare duck had not been seen for a couple hours. I didn't let the news get me down though, and instead focused my search on a different pond. Bam. The tuft wasn't fully developed, but it was still evident, and the rest of the plumage on the bird was simply immaculate. This was my third time encountering Tufted Duck in Benton in the last year!

Tufted Duck

Benton County, Oregon's TUDU magnet

I had just enough time to squeeze one last bird out of the day: the Benton County Ferruginous Hawk was an easy pickup in the dying light on my way home. 

Ferruginous Hawk

Benton County, my newest Oregon county with 150 species

January 10-15:

I stayed local over the next few days. The semester began here at Bushnell University, which meant that my full time work would now be accompanied by a class on the book of Psalms that I'm teaching as an adjunct. Though this makes the days busier, the energy I get from being in the classroom makes it a net positive for my overall wellbeing. Even with the challenges of being masked and socially distanced, getting to teach a small batch of students is an immense privilege.

In my brief outings that week I picked up one of Tye Jeske's Short-eared Owls on Cantrell Road (which brought Mason's owl list to two), an American Dipper and Barrow's Goldeneye near Dexter, and a Redhead up on Meadowview Road.

On January 14 my year list was up to 151. The 15th was the first day of the year that I didn't add a new species.

January 16:

Circumstances worked out just right at the last minute for me to get to bird with Nolan Clements on the third Saturday of the month. Nolan is a spark of energy more effective than a shot of caffeine, though we did also have coffee in hand on this early morning outing. The annoyance of missing the Polk Gyrfalcon again was offset by the fact that we got looks at a Lapland Longspur along Livermore Road, and picked up a couple other nice county birds like Say's Phoebe and Eurasian Wigeon. From there we were off to the coast.

The folks around us at Devil's Punchbowl were curious as to why we were exchanging high fives within out first thirty seconds of arriving. Rock Sandpipers are always a cause for celebration, particularly when they are the drive up variety. They can be quite tricky to track down, so we were quite relieved to see these two nestled in among a flock of Black Turnstones and Surfbirds. All three species are pictured here, poorly:

Rock Sandpiper, the rare drive-up subspecies

The coast didn't offer up any great rarity this day, but the sun was out and temps climbed into the 50s on a day that felt nicer than some August weekends. And some above average birds were around for our enjoyment, like the obliging flock of Snow Buntings near the South Jetty in Newport:

Snow Bunting digiscope because I brilliantly left my camera in the car

The wintering flock of Marbled Godwits and Whimbrel were close to the boardwalk at Hatfield. It felt like a good day to find a Palm Warbler, but we had no such luck.

Marbled Godwits and Whimbrel

All in all it was an outstanding day that resulted in over a hundred species. And then, in keeping with the rest of January, news of another rare bird popped up before I even got home: a Mountain Plover in Lane.

January 17:

The weather looked great the next day, so it was not difficult to talk the family into a beach day at Siltcoos. We climbed over the dune and settled in to a spot on the sand. I pointed my scope to the north and the first bird I saw was the Mountain Plover! It was a little too far for decent photos, so I picked up my scope to get closer, but before I got far it started flying south, landed right in front of me for a few seconds, then took off towards the mouth of the river, not to be seen for another a couple of hours.

This was yet another of Daniel Farrar's great finds along this stretch of beach, and Lane County's first record for the species!

Mountain Plover!!

Mason doing his best Sanderling impression while momma bird watches

post-plover / beach day happiness

January 18:

The Snow and Ross's Geese cooperated along American Drive in Linn County, where the two year birds were also county ticks! The sheer number of birds here was staggering, one of those winter spectacles that the valley provides here and there.

January 20:

I was getting ready to wrap up my work day and go pick up Mason from school when a text came through from Nolan:

Some very big news had come through in the twenty minutes since I had last checked OBOL and WhatsApp, and it required immediate attention. I grabbed a couple extra snacks for little man, picked him up, and hit I-5 headed north. 45 minutes later we showed up and Nolan had the bird in the scope. It was rather distant and insisted on not coming any closer, but a male Vermillion is always a sight to behold!

Vermillion Flycatcher!

Mason, however, was more impressed with the puddles and the quantity of rocks at his disposal. We stayed for another 45 minutes and played on this random rural road in Linn County. 

January 24:

Another weekend, another early departure. I left at 4:30 and picked Nolan up in Florence by 5:30. On our way down 101 we pondered Big Day strategy for later in the year while waiting for the morning's coffee to kick in, and before we knew it we were in Coos Bay picking up 2018 ABA Big Year birder, Nicole Koeltzow.

At our first stop a River Otter poked its head out of the water a few times to look at us and make a sound that indicated it was making fun of us, or that it wanted us to leave. It was quite humorous, though our sleep-deprived selves were probably not the best judge of true comedy that early in the day.

The southern terminus of our route for the day was the Winchuck River Mouth, just a stone's throw from the California border. Remarkably, we were there by 9:00 am. We arrived to a steady drizzle, ready to walk the streets of Winchuck for a few hours if we needed to. Fifteen minutes later we were watching our target bird on the feeder:

Costa's Hummingbird!!

Curry County

We lingered in the neighborhood for a while and found a Sharp-shinned Hawk, a couple White-throated Sparrows, a pair of Peregrine Falcons, and a mind-blowing 45+ Anna's Hummingbirds. None of us had seen anything like it before!

The rest of the day was quite the adventure. It rained off and on the entire time, but we still snagged the continuing Northern Mockingbird for Curry County. We came upon a parking lot full of blackbirds and gulls in Bandon, and the moment we pulled off the road Nolan and I let out a synchronized "WHOA!" In the midst of the gull wad was the bird we had been talking about much of the day: a Glaucous Gull!

yelp-warranting Glaucous Gull

Coos County

Our last major stop made for a crazy cap on an already memorable adventure. The Coquille North Jetty greeted us with wind gusts howling in excess of 50 mph. We scoped from the base of the jetty, where Nolan picked out the wintering Wandering Tattler. My eyes watered up instantaneously in the wind, making it nearly impossible to see through the scope, so I decided we should try to walk out the jetty. Unlike most jetties, this one actually has a concrete "path" poured down the center of it, which is why I was not paying as careful attention as I should have. I slipped while scanning with my binoculars and thankfully caught myself quickly instead of going full Kenn Kaufmann to end the day. The walk out there proved more than worth it as we all had great views of the Wandering Tattler, my twentieth shorebird of the month!

On the way back to solid ground the hail began to fly. This was no small annoyance given the wind gusts hurling it our way, pelting our faces like little pin pricks. When we made it back to the car I realized my car keys had been in my unzipped jacket pocket when I fell. Thankfully, miraculously, they were still there.

Once out of the hail and under the cover of the car for which I still had keys, Nicole broke out the celebratory chocolate bar, and on the drive home we reveled in the joys of one long, wild day of birding.

January 28:

We were four weeks in to the new year and I was tired of not having a Gyrfalcon on my list. After getting some work done early in morning I used a few personal hours to go give the Polk County bird a solid effort. The time invested paid off, as I was treated to some of the best views I've ever had of this glorious species. I watched it at close range for about a minute, then it turned its attention to the flock of Cackling Geese in a nearby field. The falcon dropped off the pole and flew just a few feet off the ground, covering about a quarter mile in a matter of seconds. It crested a rise in the field then disappeared. Moments later the flock of Cacklers exploded into the sky. The Gyr didn't snag one this time, but the blood stains on its feathers indicated it hadn't been too long since its previous meal. It's obviously eating well in this area this winter. Though it wasn't successful on this chase I still got an absolute thrill out of watching this incredible predator at work.

Gyrfalcon at work

January 29:

A Pygmy Nuthatch in Eugene caused quite the excitement among Lane birders over the last few days of January. This is an extremely rare bird in the county and one I never really anticipated seeing in Western Oregon. After I picked up Mason from school we made our way over to the local park where it was hanging out. It took just a few minutes to find this big time bird with the little name.

Pygmy Nuthatch

January 30:

I don't quite have words for this day just yet. Nolan and I birded Lincoln County all morning to see if the week's odd offshore winds blew in anything of note. The winds this day stayed mostly from the south, and while the birding was quality all day we found only the usual suspects. In the early afternoon we wrapped up our birding in Newport and I decided to get back home a little earlier than expected.

And a half hour later Nolan found a Ross's Gull with Idaho birder Carter Strope. By the time I made it back to Newport the one minute wonder was long gone, though a group of us searched the area for the next couple hours. I was rattled. I drove home with a pit in my stomach, trying to process the most gut wrenching moment that birding has ever dealt me. It was a brutal experience on my end, but that's just the way birding goes sometimes. After the month of rarities I'd just enjoyed, I was in no place to complain. On to the next.

Meanwhile, the legend of Nolan Clements grows. Just a few months after finding an Oriental Greenfinch he adds to his MEGA streak with a fleeting Ross's Gull. I think I'll keep birding with that guy.

***

The more I look at the numbers, the more amazed I become at just how wild January 2021 was. I saw 185 species without setting foot in Eastern Oregon a single time. With a total like that I've started wondering just where this year may be heading. Last Summer I started plotting out an Oregon year that could net 350 species and so land among the top ten all time Oregon Big Year results. By the time December rolled around I had talked myself out of trying it in 2021. But after this month I'm back following that plan, and I think 350 sounds a little tame.

On to the next.