Being in northern Minnesota puts one in striking distance of multiple great birding opportunities. And in the case of this birder, it also puts him in close proximity of many relatives. Therefore the decisions must be weighed carefully; there is no room for making a foolish birding decision with a limited amount of time to bird. The Sax-Zim Bog venture was savvy and efficient as it was en route to our destination. With some successful owling in the Bog, I didn’t feel the need to go back. Instead, there were two other options that were now vying heavily for my attention: go to the Isabella area in Lake County after reports of gobs of Spruce Grouse, Black-backed Woodpeckers, Northern Hawk Owls, and Boreal Chickadees or go back to Duluth to try to see Minnesota’s 10th only Golden-crowned Sparrow. Time and distance would not allow me to do both. The boreal birds were really appealing to me, but I instead made the more logical, albeit less fascinating, decision to go after the sparrow. The boreal birds will always be boreal, but the Golden-crowned Sparrow will not. Also, being up north only put me 1.5 hours away from Duluth instead of the normal 3.5 hours away. It was the right thing to do.
One of my benchmarks for deciding to chase a rarity is whether or not Randy chases. If he’s never seen it, then it’s an incredible bird. 2014 has been unbelievable as Randy has added seven state birds when he normally gets one maybe every couple years. The Golden-crowned Sparrow was one such bird. Being on opposite ends of the state did not allow us to chase together, but that didn’t stop us from joining forces at dawn last Saturday in Duluth. I was glad to not be going about this alone as this Sparrow had been showing up sporadically at Jeff Newman’s feeders on Regent Street. Some birders had been traipsing all over alleys and surrounding blocks in their efforts to locate the Golden-crowned. That seemed like a daunting proposition.
So the plan was to be at the house at first light to hopefully see the Sparrow grab its first meal for the day. As we stood on the sidewalk (birders were not to go on the lawn) in the pre-dawn of a cloudy day looking to the feeders in the backyard, we could barely make out the silhouette of the first bird to land on the ground. Just as it did, the homeowner, Jeff, came out his door to announce the identification he made from his much closer view from inside the house.
“White-throated Sparrow!” Back inside he went.
That silhouette flew and was replaced by another.
“Golden-crowned Sparrow!” Jeff proclaimed as he came out his front door for the second time in as many minutes. With the shared lifer now under our belts, Randy and I were no longer waiting on the bird but on the sun for some better looks at what we traveled so far to see. Here is one of those sketchy first looks in the dim morning light.
Just as other birders had said, the Sparrow did not spend much time feeding. Instead, it hung out in two cedar trees near the feeders. Now the sun and the branches were conspiring against us.
But eventually things started looking up as the morning progressed and the bird came out into the open for brief spurts.
Then, finally, after an hour there was decent light and a perfectly-perched bird.
With a lifer and an okay photo, it was time to move on with the day. Randy and I split. He went for that Common Eider while I contemplated my next move. It was now 8:00, and I didn’t have to be anywhere until 2:00. I was tempted to go to Isabella, but the distance and my lack of experience in that area caused me to decide against it. Instead I opted to hang out in the Sax-Zim Bog for a few hours which was on my way home. My next post will detail some of the random good birds I found in the Bog and in other parts of the Iron Range.
Again, not a mature drake, but when a duck waits nearly 50 years to make an appearance, you try not to complain. And actually, it is so intriguing that some fools risk hypothermia and broken bones trying to get better looks.
Blizzards make for bad photos, but they more than make up for it with good birds!
10 and 2. Eyes straight. I couldn’t be distracted by birds and such on the drive; my focus was on the road and those who patrol it as we hurtled down the highway. With a slightly elevated heart rate for over three hours, I was racing to get home from Duluth and the North Shore to get on the scene of a great bird before sundown. The bird that had been upgraded to the top of the priority list that we were now straining to reach was none other than the Snowy Owl. And with a blizzard that was forecast to dump a lot of snow on us late that night, this was the last easy day to find a white bird.
Just as shocking as the owl’s height was its coloration. Mike saw an all-white Snowy at 10 yards just 5 miles away a few days ago. This was definitely a second Snowy Owl. Are we in for an echo year of another big irruption? As of this writing, according to the sources Jeff Grotte has pulled together, there have now been 10 Snowies in Minnesota already! Jeff has put together a great Facebook group called “Owl About Minnesota” with lots of great photos and intel.
It was quite a party. Everyone was pretty excited. Marin picked up on the palpable excitement as she asked, “What are all these guys so excited about?”
While I photographed the bird, Melissa and the kids went with Randy to check out some of the farmyard animals. Apparently I missed Marin nearly get attacked by this giant rooster when it was chasing her while she ran, unbeknownst to Marin. The ensuing screams would have likely scared away the stork, and I would have been banished from the birding circles of which I participate. Thankfully Melissa thwarted the attack by getting Marin to stop running which then stopped the rooster from chasing her. By doing so, she was able to keep the screams and stork at bay, keeping Minnesota birders happy and my reputation intact.
It was finally time to head home on the 3-hour return trip. The visiting continued, but this time it was Marin who was talking everyone’s ear off and thoroughly thriving on the attention of a new person in the car. By the time we got home our bodies and ears were tired. It had been a whirlwind 7-hour adventure. But it was a lot of fun to do something spur of the moment and witness something unique as a family. I told Melissa that it’s probably the closest thing she’ll get to experiencing a flash mob like she’s always wanted to see.
For the better part of an hour Steve and I were both trying to turn every House Sparrow we saw into our target bird. But we failed. The highlight was maybe seeing an Alder Flycatcher, a life bird. I say ‘maybe’ because it’s a bird that can only be safely identified by voice, and Steve and I were convinced it was giving the Alder’s call of, “Free beer!” This bird, too, flew off before we could analyze it further.
After this experience we finally made it to the trailhead. This time things went a lot smoother with a lot less complaining. The hike down the large hill was the most challenging as the sign shows, though Marin was convinced the sign meant it was a snake trail. Given our day, who could blame her? Here you can see Evan contemplating her observation.
The river bottoms trail was flat and easy as it took us right next to the St. Croix and right along the base of an oak-wooded hillside where the Hooded Warblers were known to be. I knew the song well as its been my phone’s ring tone for some time, but I just wasn’t hearing it. Argh. Later on, though, as we passed by some flooded timber along the edge of the river, I heard the distinctive call of the Prothonotary Warbler! Not the main target, but good enough! After a little while we got to lay our eyes on it. What a thrill it was to see it for the first time!
