June 8, 2013
The sun was shining strongly in a blue blue sky when I left Lewiston as it does in the western high desert country. Even though the temperatures were already climbing, the low humidity kept things comfortable. I love early mornings like this....and the evenings.
I found a Starbucks and got caught up writing this blog while eavesdropping on a conversation next to me. A young couple was meeting with their wedding photographer, a young woman of significant girth and colorful attire.
When I left mid morning and climbed out of the Clearwater and Snake river valleys for several miles, up and up and up an easy grade, I THOUGHT this would be my day: travelling through the high desert ranches and ranges through relatively open land which didn't exactly happen. I was headed directly south to Enterprise, Oregon, and went in and out of the Wallowa-Whitman National Forest for hours. At one point, the road descended to a river valley before going up again. I was not expecting this precipitous road, and felt it rivaled the Going-to-the-Sun road at times. I pretty much got used to western mountain roads, but this one surprised me and I just wanted it to end. Like significant drop-offs on my side of the road and the feeling that the sky was nearly in my car.
At one point, I pulled off and watched a pair of Western tanagers moving through the pines. These are beautifully colorful birds with reddish heads and yellow bodies. The combination of sun, trees, sky and mountains on a clear summer day is as good as it gets. There were many motorcyclists out and about also. After that initial white-knuckle driving, the rest of the day was fine.
Enterprise is a small town with an exquisite and dramatic back-drop of snow-covered moutains, but it is not touristy as similarly situated towns are: Whitefish, Montana for example, or Riggins, Idaho, or Salida, Colorado. This was just another small western town, a center for the local ranchers. I stopped at a Subway and got a sandwich with avocado and cheeses and greens and olives, etc. Later on the trip, I also tried a Subway and got a "chopped salad," choosing the ingredients I wanted, The young kid behind the counter seriously put them in a bowl and chopped it all up into bite-sized pieces. It was surprisingly tasty.
The rest of the afternoon, I drove west, arriving at John Day late afternoon where I stayed for the night. I worked next to an open window. Several of the motorcyclists had also stopped here and were hanging out on their balconies, talking and laughing but not obtrusive.
From Wikipedia:
"John Day was born in Culpeper County, Virginia and came west through Kentucky and to Spanish Upper Louisiana (now Missouri) by 1797. In late 1810, he was engaged as a hunter for the Pacific Fur Company's Overland Expedition (sometimes called the Hunt Party or Astor Expedition), traveling west from Missouri to Fort Astoria at the mouth of the Columbia River in 1811-1812. He is best known, along with Ramsay Crooks, for being robbed and stripped naked by Indians on the Columbia River near the mouth of the river that now bears his name in Western Oregon. After finally making their way to Fort Astoria in April, Day was assigned to accompany Robert Stuart back east to St. Louis in June 1812, but was left on the Lower Columbia River where he is said to have gone mad. He returned to Fort Astoria and spent the next eight years hunting and trapping mainly in the Willamette Valley and what is now southern Idaho. John Day died February 16, 1820 at the winter camp of Donald MacKenzie's Snake Country Expedition in what is now the Little Lost River valley in Butte County, Idaho.
His name is well-remembered, being attached to the John Day River and its four branches in eastern Oregon, as well as the cities of John Day and Dayville in Grant County, Oregon, and a smaller river and unincorporated community in Clatsop County, Oregon, the John Day Dam on the Columbia River, and the John Day Fossil Beds National Monument. The Little Lost River, Idaho, was previously known as "Day's River" and the valley was called "Day's Defile" during the fur trade era."
I read somewhere that John Day (the man) never was in this area which was eventually named after him. Interesting how things happen.
Saturday, June 29, 2013
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Traveling ~ Lincoln, MT to Lewiston, ID
June 7, 2013
It was a river day today...all day I drove along rivers: first the Blackfoot, then the Lochsa and then the Clearwater.
I left my sweet little knotty-pine motel and got espresso. Most small towns in these parts have at least one drive-through espresso place.
It was another perfect June morning. The drive to Missoula would have taken about 90 minutes but I stopped at a fishing access site along the Blackfoot called Angevine. The river was down a steep bank, and I could stand up on the bank and watch birds flitting in the riparian flora below me. No mosquitoes which surprised me. A "raspberry juice"colored finch popped into view which happened to be a life bird - a Cassin's finch. This bird looks nearly identical to the purple finch seen in Michigan. Since purple finches are not out west, by process of elimination, this was a Cassin's. A few minutes later I saw the female Cassin's.
A man and his two young sons drove up with a canoe on their vehicle. The dad fussed with securing the canoe for a long time and the kids got their poles and scampered down to the river. Me, a total stranger, was mildly worried about them falling in....jeez was is with this worry gene????
At another quick pull-off along here, I stopped on a little bridge over a tributary stream and saw a dipper, which is a plumpish robin-sized, all dark bird which LOVES wild rushing streams, hopping from rock to rock and evensubmerging and moving underwater for a spell. This is another western bird.
In Missoula, I stopped at a Great Clips but the wait was 45 minutes so I went on and found a Starbuck's and blogged for awhile.
Most of the afternoon, I drove US12 over Lolo Pass, turning west about 10 miles south of Missoula, and thinking of A River Runs Through It near Lolo Hot Springs. The route truly winds for 100 mile, mostly along the Lochsa river. The wild beauty goes on and on and on...the river with significant white water (especially this time of year), the mountains and a million magnificant trees. there are dozens of tiny creeks running down from the mountains into the Lochsa with great names like Shoestring or Rattlesnake or Two Shadows. I saw a handsome Steller Jay near the pass. One time I turned in and drove through a Forest Service campground and heard a bird singing repetitively. But the trees are huge and I didn't expect I would find it but looked anyway for a few minutes and then caught a glimpse of movement way up high. It was a Townsend's warbler! How cool is that? Being a Townsend's and all and a bird one would not see in Michigan. It is a beautiful warbler...all yellow and black around its head. I saw a Townsend's only once before on Antelope Island in Utah.
Another cool thing happened: I was driving along, winding around curves and came upon a conventional raft and two catarafts (check out the "cataraft carnage" YouTube for what can happen on this river), and since there are so many pullouts, I was able to stop and get a photo or two. I then drove on and saw significant whitewater AND a pedestrian bridge,one of about only two or three that I saw crossing the river. I parked, ran down the trail and got on the bridge just before the three rafts came through. They all made it without cataraft carnage and it looked like a blast!
The sun made the water silver; the pines and spruces and cedars scented the air; the skies were blue. There were relatively calm stretches with tiny sandy beaches but often sections of raging water and gigantic rocks......or one could travel Interstate 90 and miss all this and most people do.
The last part of the day, for about two hours, I rode along the Clearwater River to Lewiston. It's a larger river and there was much more traffic. I had to pay attention to avoid landing IN the river but it was beautiful.
It was hot (probably over 90 degrees) and windy with brilliant sunshine in Lewiston. The dry heat in the west is tolerable to far greater temperatures than the more humid heat in Michigan. I was surprised to see the car thermometer read 86 or 89 when it felt quite comfortable without air on.
I stayed in a motel overlooking the town in a room on the third floor with a wee balcony and worked with the door open for several hours. There was a maple tree right next to the balcony with a nest tucked inside. After I had typed for hours, I began hearing bird commotion. It was dusk and I never did actually see what bird had nested there but I almost could have reached in and touched it.
It was a river day today...all day I drove along rivers: first the Blackfoot, then the Lochsa and then the Clearwater.
I left my sweet little knotty-pine motel and got espresso. Most small towns in these parts have at least one drive-through espresso place.
It was another perfect June morning. The drive to Missoula would have taken about 90 minutes but I stopped at a fishing access site along the Blackfoot called Angevine. The river was down a steep bank, and I could stand up on the bank and watch birds flitting in the riparian flora below me. No mosquitoes which surprised me. A "raspberry juice"colored finch popped into view which happened to be a life bird - a Cassin's finch. This bird looks nearly identical to the purple finch seen in Michigan. Since purple finches are not out west, by process of elimination, this was a Cassin's. A few minutes later I saw the female Cassin's.
A man and his two young sons drove up with a canoe on their vehicle. The dad fussed with securing the canoe for a long time and the kids got their poles and scampered down to the river. Me, a total stranger, was mildly worried about them falling in....jeez was is with this worry gene????
At another quick pull-off along here, I stopped on a little bridge over a tributary stream and saw a dipper, which is a plumpish robin-sized, all dark bird which LOVES wild rushing streams, hopping from rock to rock and evensubmerging and moving underwater for a spell. This is another western bird.
In Missoula, I stopped at a Great Clips but the wait was 45 minutes so I went on and found a Starbuck's and blogged for awhile.
Most of the afternoon, I drove US12 over Lolo Pass, turning west about 10 miles south of Missoula, and thinking of A River Runs Through It near Lolo Hot Springs. The route truly winds for 100 mile, mostly along the Lochsa river. The wild beauty goes on and on and on...the river with significant white water (especially this time of year), the mountains and a million magnificant trees. there are dozens of tiny creeks running down from the mountains into the Lochsa with great names like Shoestring or Rattlesnake or Two Shadows. I saw a handsome Steller Jay near the pass. One time I turned in and drove through a Forest Service campground and heard a bird singing repetitively. But the trees are huge and I didn't expect I would find it but looked anyway for a few minutes and then caught a glimpse of movement way up high. It was a Townsend's warbler! How cool is that? Being a Townsend's and all and a bird one would not see in Michigan. It is a beautiful warbler...all yellow and black around its head. I saw a Townsend's only once before on Antelope Island in Utah.
Another cool thing happened: I was driving along, winding around curves and came upon a conventional raft and two catarafts (check out the "cataraft carnage" YouTube for what can happen on this river), and since there are so many pullouts, I was able to stop and get a photo or two. I then drove on and saw significant whitewater AND a pedestrian bridge,one of about only two or three that I saw crossing the river. I parked, ran down the trail and got on the bridge just before the three rafts came through. They all made it without cataraft carnage and it looked like a blast!
The sun made the water silver; the pines and spruces and cedars scented the air; the skies were blue. There were relatively calm stretches with tiny sandy beaches but often sections of raging water and gigantic rocks......or one could travel Interstate 90 and miss all this and most people do.
The last part of the day, for about two hours, I rode along the Clearwater River to Lewiston. It's a larger river and there was much more traffic. I had to pay attention to avoid landing IN the river but it was beautiful.
It was hot (probably over 90 degrees) and windy with brilliant sunshine in Lewiston. The dry heat in the west is tolerable to far greater temperatures than the more humid heat in Michigan. I was surprised to see the car thermometer read 86 or 89 when it felt quite comfortable without air on.
I stayed in a motel overlooking the town in a room on the third floor with a wee balcony and worked with the door open for several hours. There was a maple tree right next to the balcony with a nest tucked inside. After I had typed for hours, I began hearing bird commotion. It was dusk and I never did actually see what bird had nested there but I almost could have reached in and touched it.
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Travelling ~ Glasgow, MT to Lincoln, MT
June 6, 2013
Up and on the road early. Another prairie morning and almost no other traffic. I hadn't decided for certain on which route I would take....either through Kalispell or heading southwest towards Missoula. Those are the two choices through the Rockies for 200 miles. But before making that decision, I went through Bowdoin NWR. Maria and I had driven the 15-mile auto route many years ago, and it was here I saw black-necked stilts for the first time. She had seen them before but pointed a couple of them out to me almost immediately. I have been back at least five times and, so far, it is my favorite refuge. On the trip with Maria, we also saw white-faced ibises very near the Visitor Center, along with a million other birds. It is one more lovely wide-open place, much like Lostwood, but with more water and water that is often right next to the auto route in drainage canals and marshes and lakes.
I came upon only one other person, a gentleman taking photos with his long lens. I surmised he was trying for the secretive grassland sparrows as his scope was pointed in that direction.
What I learned at Bowdoin this time was how to look for sparrows. They are very small brown clumps on grasses; that is, when they perch which isn't as often as they are usually invisible in the grasses. How many times do birders watch a sparrow fly, drop down, mark the spot and watch it disappear never to pop up. Or at least never within the limits of my patience. Still, I realized this is just another dimension to seeing birds...not easy, but not impossible either. I would stop and immediately HEAR bird songs from the grasses and am learning songs. I don't count a bird I hear, but many peoople do which is considered acceptable. It's just not my thing. I started to be able to see small brown clumps though, even if often they were too far off or silhouetted. To use a scope here would have required a time committment. So, next time....
What I did see were perfect views of lark sparrows. Most of the time, they were in the two-track just ahead of my car and they would fly out of the way but only down the road, and this was repeated a dozen times. But the best view I will ever have of a lark sparrow was as I left, and perched on the sign at the entrance and not flying away was a lark sparrow with all the markings on its striking head highlighted by the sun, a thrill to see one so well.
I saw hundreds of birds and thought off and on of Maria. Avocets, stilts, yellow-headed blackbirds, spotted sandpiper, northern harrier, Wilson's phalaopes, common yellowthroats (one time, through the binocs but fairly close, one of these birds was perched on the end of a just greening willow, in the eastern sun with a blue blue sky as background. A situation like this just might make a birder out of anyone...
Also saw lots of ducks, coots, marbled godwist (googleable), willets, white pelicans...
Three hours later, I got back on 2 and, at Havre, turned southwest on a road I hadn't been on before. It skirted the west end of the Bear Paw mountains, went through Rocky Boy Indian rez, went through Big Sandy, Jon Tester's home town, all the time moving closer and closer to the Missouri River. There was a sign for a "Free Ferry" on the map and I was briefly tempted, but not really as this would have been a long detour and on a lot of dry gravel roads into the isolated Missouri Breaks country. Maybe another trip..There is something about a "free ferry" across a historic river isn't there?
I INTENDED to stay in Great Falls but wound through the city, route-finding as I went, and happened upon not one motel. I was only concerned because I was going to work some and hoped to stop early. The thing is: there are only "decent" motels with stable Internet access in the bigger towns. I had no idea if I would find anything between Great Falls and Missoula which was 150 miles away.
The route between these two towns (200) was one of the most spectacular roads I've driven. It was late afternoon so the light was perfect. There has been so much rain (with major flooding in many counties in ND and Montana and, at one point, even water flowing across US2) that the fields were green, green, green. I overhead a farmer telling his fellow farmers that someone who wasn't all that familiar with Montana said he thought it looked like Ireland. And it probably does, albeit temporarily and not every year, even in the spring.
So there were the occasional ranches and mountains in the near distance with deep green pines and the lovely big sky. I drove contentedly up and down five-mile grades, but on straight roads, with a 70 mph speed limit. Occasionallly, there were large herds of chocolate brown cows and calves munching the green grasses.
In Lincoln, I found The Three Bears Motel, one of the old motels I remember from my youth and becoming more and more rare. This one was clean, with up-to-date amenities, re-done bathroom, etc. It had a log bed, a good Internet connection and I could park right outside the door. Lots of handing petunias baskets all around.
I wish I had been less tired or didn't have to work because I would have eaten at The Montanan Steak House, recommeded by the desk clerk. The menu in the room was intriguing (for Montana) with a "signature" lobster chowder in a bread bowl, quesadilla choices, good salads and steaks, chicken dishes, etc., all printed on nice grey parchment paper. Maybe on the way back....
A couple of hours into typing next to an open window with Ponderosas all around, my foot pedal quit working. I need this to transcribe so fretted a bit but then just quit and went to bed.
The next morning, I woke up, took it apart with tools from my car and blew on it and now it works again.
Up and on the road early. Another prairie morning and almost no other traffic. I hadn't decided for certain on which route I would take....either through Kalispell or heading southwest towards Missoula. Those are the two choices through the Rockies for 200 miles. But before making that decision, I went through Bowdoin NWR. Maria and I had driven the 15-mile auto route many years ago, and it was here I saw black-necked stilts for the first time. She had seen them before but pointed a couple of them out to me almost immediately. I have been back at least five times and, so far, it is my favorite refuge. On the trip with Maria, we also saw white-faced ibises very near the Visitor Center, along with a million other birds. It is one more lovely wide-open place, much like Lostwood, but with more water and water that is often right next to the auto route in drainage canals and marshes and lakes.
I came upon only one other person, a gentleman taking photos with his long lens. I surmised he was trying for the secretive grassland sparrows as his scope was pointed in that direction.
What I learned at Bowdoin this time was how to look for sparrows. They are very small brown clumps on grasses; that is, when they perch which isn't as often as they are usually invisible in the grasses. How many times do birders watch a sparrow fly, drop down, mark the spot and watch it disappear never to pop up. Or at least never within the limits of my patience. Still, I realized this is just another dimension to seeing birds...not easy, but not impossible either. I would stop and immediately HEAR bird songs from the grasses and am learning songs. I don't count a bird I hear, but many peoople do which is considered acceptable. It's just not my thing. I started to be able to see small brown clumps though, even if often they were too far off or silhouetted. To use a scope here would have required a time committment. So, next time....
What I did see were perfect views of lark sparrows. Most of the time, they were in the two-track just ahead of my car and they would fly out of the way but only down the road, and this was repeated a dozen times. But the best view I will ever have of a lark sparrow was as I left, and perched on the sign at the entrance and not flying away was a lark sparrow with all the markings on its striking head highlighted by the sun, a thrill to see one so well.
I saw hundreds of birds and thought off and on of Maria. Avocets, stilts, yellow-headed blackbirds, spotted sandpiper, northern harrier, Wilson's phalaopes, common yellowthroats (one time, through the binocs but fairly close, one of these birds was perched on the end of a just greening willow, in the eastern sun with a blue blue sky as background. A situation like this just might make a birder out of anyone...
Also saw lots of ducks, coots, marbled godwist (googleable), willets, white pelicans...
Three hours later, I got back on 2 and, at Havre, turned southwest on a road I hadn't been on before. It skirted the west end of the Bear Paw mountains, went through Rocky Boy Indian rez, went through Big Sandy, Jon Tester's home town, all the time moving closer and closer to the Missouri River. There was a sign for a "Free Ferry" on the map and I was briefly tempted, but not really as this would have been a long detour and on a lot of dry gravel roads into the isolated Missouri Breaks country. Maybe another trip..There is something about a "free ferry" across a historic river isn't there?
I INTENDED to stay in Great Falls but wound through the city, route-finding as I went, and happened upon not one motel. I was only concerned because I was going to work some and hoped to stop early. The thing is: there are only "decent" motels with stable Internet access in the bigger towns. I had no idea if I would find anything between Great Falls and Missoula which was 150 miles away.
The route between these two towns (200) was one of the most spectacular roads I've driven. It was late afternoon so the light was perfect. There has been so much rain (with major flooding in many counties in ND and Montana and, at one point, even water flowing across US2) that the fields were green, green, green. I overhead a farmer telling his fellow farmers that someone who wasn't all that familiar with Montana said he thought it looked like Ireland. And it probably does, albeit temporarily and not every year, even in the spring.
So there were the occasional ranches and mountains in the near distance with deep green pines and the lovely big sky. I drove contentedly up and down five-mile grades, but on straight roads, with a 70 mph speed limit. Occasionallly, there were large herds of chocolate brown cows and calves munching the green grasses.
In Lincoln, I found The Three Bears Motel, one of the old motels I remember from my youth and becoming more and more rare. This one was clean, with up-to-date amenities, re-done bathroom, etc. It had a log bed, a good Internet connection and I could park right outside the door. Lots of handing petunias baskets all around.
I wish I had been less tired or didn't have to work because I would have eaten at The Montanan Steak House, recommeded by the desk clerk. The menu in the room was intriguing (for Montana) with a "signature" lobster chowder in a bread bowl, quesadilla choices, good salads and steaks, chicken dishes, etc., all printed on nice grey parchment paper. Maybe on the way back....
A couple of hours into typing next to an open window with Ponderosas all around, my foot pedal quit working. I need this to transcribe so fretted a bit but then just quit and went to bed.
The next morning, I woke up, took it apart with tools from my car and blew on it and now it works again.
Travelling ~ Minot, SD to Glasgow, MT
June 5
I woke to a lovely morning and got on the road early. One drives up out of the Souris (Mouse) River valley where Minot is located onto the high prairie. The sun lit it all up and the world seemed just fine. I love this topography with gentle rolling hills of immense scope and the huge skies overhead. An hour west, at Stanley, I turned north for 25 miles to Lostwood NWR. I went there a few years ago but the auto route was closed due to nesting piping plovers so I was hopeful, and the web site didn't indicate a closure.
The mornng was exquisite with just warm-enough sun and few mosquitoes (surprisingly). I got there at 8 in the morning and several women were just arriving for work, all wearing the khaki uniform of the (of the what??? I guess I don't even know what agency administers the refuges, but I think it might be Fish and Wildlife???).
The route was open. It basically runs generally south for 7.5 miles and I saw no one else except for one female employee in a white pickup who warned me about "water across the road at mile 3" and two male employees who pulled up and climbed the fire tower where I was parked. I should have asked them if they did that everyday. The land was greening with grasslands to the distant horizons and lakes and smaller ponds and the occasional very small grove of trees. It was another place Maria would have loved, aswould most of my siblings.
So, what birds did I see? Well......I heard buzzing sparrows constantly but never did identify a Baird's or grasshopper sparrow, nor the Sprague's pipit, all of which I should have and would have if I had been with more accomplished birders, like the Magee Marsh guys. But, I started to really learn about grassland species and will know more how to find them (patience a requisite for sure) in the future.
There were many least flycatchers and waterfowl in the distance, and other singing birds in the few trees and bushes. (The immediate area around the Refuge Center does have many small trees and shrubs and I wish I had lingered there longer. I didn't realize the auto route was not a loop so I never went back that way.) I often had the scope out but can't say it helped. Sparrows, when they perch on grasses and weeds, only perch long enough for me to find them and get them NEARLY in focus before they fly off. A plover far off was out of range of my scope. Killdeer, common yellowthroat, clay-colored sparrrows with their 3 to 5 buzzy calls, cliff swallows, lots of ducks, an agitated red-tailed hawk whose nest was visible and who wanted me outta there, kingbirds...all was good. I spent about 4 hours driving 7.5 miles. I wish I could convey the feeling of being in these refuges...often with no one or only a few folks around. It's a clean, peaceful, hopeful, calming feeling.
Next, I negotiated Williston and the general dirty, dusty, truck-filled, oil-boom western ND area. It's ucky. The reality of what is happening here is interesting to think about: how greed, lust, money, hard work, frustration, crime and regrets all play out. There is new construction all over and thousands of men driving white pickups and thousands more driving heavy equipment. There are man-cave housing settlements out on the open land, basically two-story bleak, rectangles with a tiny porch, if that. Although I did notice a few young trees near some doorways. Cars are parked in one gigantic lot so the workers have to walk to their castles. Large motels in various stages of construction also...
Williston is very near Montana's eastern border, so on I went. In Brockton, traffic was slowed to 15 mph because a dozen Native Americans on horses were moving along the road. The lead guy was holding a 5-foot pole with feathers. I got a speeding ticket in this "town" a few years ago, so I definitely obey speed limits now all across Montana.
I found out I could work for the next several days, so stopped in Glasgow, Montana at a motel I've stayed in before. I got them to change my room to one facing west and worked until after sundown.
I woke to a lovely morning and got on the road early. One drives up out of the Souris (Mouse) River valley where Minot is located onto the high prairie. The sun lit it all up and the world seemed just fine. I love this topography with gentle rolling hills of immense scope and the huge skies overhead. An hour west, at Stanley, I turned north for 25 miles to Lostwood NWR. I went there a few years ago but the auto route was closed due to nesting piping plovers so I was hopeful, and the web site didn't indicate a closure.
The mornng was exquisite with just warm-enough sun and few mosquitoes (surprisingly). I got there at 8 in the morning and several women were just arriving for work, all wearing the khaki uniform of the (of the what??? I guess I don't even know what agency administers the refuges, but I think it might be Fish and Wildlife???).
The route was open. It basically runs generally south for 7.5 miles and I saw no one else except for one female employee in a white pickup who warned me about "water across the road at mile 3" and two male employees who pulled up and climbed the fire tower where I was parked. I should have asked them if they did that everyday. The land was greening with grasslands to the distant horizons and lakes and smaller ponds and the occasional very small grove of trees. It was another place Maria would have loved, aswould most of my siblings.
So, what birds did I see? Well......I heard buzzing sparrows constantly but never did identify a Baird's or grasshopper sparrow, nor the Sprague's pipit, all of which I should have and would have if I had been with more accomplished birders, like the Magee Marsh guys. But, I started to really learn about grassland species and will know more how to find them (patience a requisite for sure) in the future.
There were many least flycatchers and waterfowl in the distance, and other singing birds in the few trees and bushes. (The immediate area around the Refuge Center does have many small trees and shrubs and I wish I had lingered there longer. I didn't realize the auto route was not a loop so I never went back that way.) I often had the scope out but can't say it helped. Sparrows, when they perch on grasses and weeds, only perch long enough for me to find them and get them NEARLY in focus before they fly off. A plover far off was out of range of my scope. Killdeer, common yellowthroat, clay-colored sparrrows with their 3 to 5 buzzy calls, cliff swallows, lots of ducks, an agitated red-tailed hawk whose nest was visible and who wanted me outta there, kingbirds...all was good. I spent about 4 hours driving 7.5 miles. I wish I could convey the feeling of being in these refuges...often with no one or only a few folks around. It's a clean, peaceful, hopeful, calming feeling.
Next, I negotiated Williston and the general dirty, dusty, truck-filled, oil-boom western ND area. It's ucky. The reality of what is happening here is interesting to think about: how greed, lust, money, hard work, frustration, crime and regrets all play out. There is new construction all over and thousands of men driving white pickups and thousands more driving heavy equipment. There are man-cave housing settlements out on the open land, basically two-story bleak, rectangles with a tiny porch, if that. Although I did notice a few young trees near some doorways. Cars are parked in one gigantic lot so the workers have to walk to their castles. Large motels in various stages of construction also...
Williston is very near Montana's eastern border, so on I went. In Brockton, traffic was slowed to 15 mph because a dozen Native Americans on horses were moving along the road. The lead guy was holding a 5-foot pole with feathers. I got a speeding ticket in this "town" a few years ago, so I definitely obey speed limits now all across Montana.
I found out I could work for the next several days, so stopped in Glasgow, Montana at a motel I've stayed in before. I got them to change my room to one facing west and worked until after sundown.
Thursday, June 6, 2013
Travelling ~ Grand Rapids, MN to Minot, SD
June 4, 2013
I woke to overcast skies and left early stopping first for coffee, muffin and blogging at Brewed Awakenings, a great coffee house which sells quiches along with tempting baked goods and ice-cream, books and music. I bought two Putamayo CDs which I later regretted: one was American Blues and there were only few good tracks and several so-so ones. The same with Paris, the other CD, only this time there were only two I liked. One I didn't like was Carla Bruni. The liner described her many accomplishments and noted that she was also an "exquisite" vocalist, but she was remarkably unremarkable, sort of half speaking, half singing in a low register. Still, I should have realized that contemporary Parisian chansons are not like the Edith Piaf chansons. I decided not to stop and spend money at the two other places I usually stop in Grand Rapids: an Army-Navy store and a used bookstore.
The skies cleared as I drove west and I took a couple of detours, one to the north and the other to the south. The north one was just a random road north, then a random road west and then another random road south to US2 again, probably 60 to 70 miles. Minnesota maps are well-marked and accurate in contrast to some other state maps. All routes and road surfaces are precisely as presented. My reward for this detour was a pair of nesting trumpeter swans in a small lake near the road. I got good views of these impressive birds and easily noted the field marks that distinguish them from tundra swans. Their head and necks were stained reddish-brown (from the iron up here?)
Back on US2, I noted a sign for Rydell NWR, only three miles off the road, surrounded by square miles of agriculture with mostly flat-land cultivated fields. There are now 454 refuges in the US; I love visiting them. After all, they belong to me...to you...to us. They are quiet, well-maintained, no zu-zu, interpretative places for kids and more and more have an emphasis on native flora. There are dozens of pamphlets about conversancy and easement considerations for the local people, information on exotic and invasive species and what to do about them, birding lists for the particular refuge and trail guides. Often there are auto routes, and I find that car birding (while not exactly green) is good as the birds are more accepting of cars than people moving about. Car as a blind, I guess. I did walk a one-mile trail around Church Lake through hardwoods, marshes and open fields, seeing about 25 species. As my life list grows, it becomes harder to see a bird I haven't seen before, but I now concentrate on learning field marks and songs better. Probably the most ubiquitous bird all across the country wherever there is a bit of riparian habitat is the common yellowthroat. I can usually find one but hear them far more often. They are also worth a google.
When I got to Grand Forks, ND and was in search of a Starbucks, it had begun to rain. The Starbucks was easy to find but I drove into the parking lot and there was no outlet and no place to park. It was very small space and took a bit of maneuvering to turn around, drive several blocks to get in the back way and through the drive-thru. Bit I persevered as I had the jones for some good coffee.
By the time I was heading to Devils Lake (where I intended to stop for the night), it was pouring with dark (but not tornado-ey) skies. And it rained all the way to Minot, 3-1/2 hours west. The highway is divided though and the driving is easy. I did not go to Kelly's Slough NWR (4 miles north of the highway and where I first went with Maria and where I always make at least a token visit in remembrance) because of the weather. The Holiday Inn Express in Devils Lake was filled! With businessmen, the clerk said. On a Monday night, even with "nothing special going on." This, I think, is indicative of the new look in North Dakota, which becomes more apparent the farther west one is. Oil rules...
I don't really like Minot as a stopping place. It's confusing with most amenities (motels and restaurants) crammed willy-nilly around a typical American mall. There are gigantic potholes in the busy parking lot. It was still dark and raining. The motel was expensive and $10 more than the quote when I had called ahead. I don't normally do that (make a reservation) but I didn't want to sleep in my car as once happened when trying to find a motel here. And, for the third night in a row, the plug in the bathtub did not work. Like no one takes baths anymore, I presume. (I fixed the one in Grand Rapids the night before, even when 5 small pieces of the stopper fell apart as I was fussing with it, including a tiny spring.) But, no matter what I tried in Minot, it wouldn't hold water. Such troubles we Americans have....
I ate at a nearby Olive Garden and saved most of the pasta for lunch the next day.
I woke to overcast skies and left early stopping first for coffee, muffin and blogging at Brewed Awakenings, a great coffee house which sells quiches along with tempting baked goods and ice-cream, books and music. I bought two Putamayo CDs which I later regretted: one was American Blues and there were only few good tracks and several so-so ones. The same with Paris, the other CD, only this time there were only two I liked. One I didn't like was Carla Bruni. The liner described her many accomplishments and noted that she was also an "exquisite" vocalist, but she was remarkably unremarkable, sort of half speaking, half singing in a low register. Still, I should have realized that contemporary Parisian chansons are not like the Edith Piaf chansons. I decided not to stop and spend money at the two other places I usually stop in Grand Rapids: an Army-Navy store and a used bookstore.
The skies cleared as I drove west and I took a couple of detours, one to the north and the other to the south. The north one was just a random road north, then a random road west and then another random road south to US2 again, probably 60 to 70 miles. Minnesota maps are well-marked and accurate in contrast to some other state maps. All routes and road surfaces are precisely as presented. My reward for this detour was a pair of nesting trumpeter swans in a small lake near the road. I got good views of these impressive birds and easily noted the field marks that distinguish them from tundra swans. Their head and necks were stained reddish-brown (from the iron up here?)
Back on US2, I noted a sign for Rydell NWR, only three miles off the road, surrounded by square miles of agriculture with mostly flat-land cultivated fields. There are now 454 refuges in the US; I love visiting them. After all, they belong to me...to you...to us. They are quiet, well-maintained, no zu-zu, interpretative places for kids and more and more have an emphasis on native flora. There are dozens of pamphlets about conversancy and easement considerations for the local people, information on exotic and invasive species and what to do about them, birding lists for the particular refuge and trail guides. Often there are auto routes, and I find that car birding (while not exactly green) is good as the birds are more accepting of cars than people moving about. Car as a blind, I guess. I did walk a one-mile trail around Church Lake through hardwoods, marshes and open fields, seeing about 25 species. As my life list grows, it becomes harder to see a bird I haven't seen before, but I now concentrate on learning field marks and songs better. Probably the most ubiquitous bird all across the country wherever there is a bit of riparian habitat is the common yellowthroat. I can usually find one but hear them far more often. They are also worth a google.
When I got to Grand Forks, ND and was in search of a Starbucks, it had begun to rain. The Starbucks was easy to find but I drove into the parking lot and there was no outlet and no place to park. It was very small space and took a bit of maneuvering to turn around, drive several blocks to get in the back way and through the drive-thru. Bit I persevered as I had the jones for some good coffee.
By the time I was heading to Devils Lake (where I intended to stop for the night), it was pouring with dark (but not tornado-ey) skies. And it rained all the way to Minot, 3-1/2 hours west. The highway is divided though and the driving is easy. I did not go to Kelly's Slough NWR (4 miles north of the highway and where I first went with Maria and where I always make at least a token visit in remembrance) because of the weather. The Holiday Inn Express in Devils Lake was filled! With businessmen, the clerk said. On a Monday night, even with "nothing special going on." This, I think, is indicative of the new look in North Dakota, which becomes more apparent the farther west one is. Oil rules...
I don't really like Minot as a stopping place. It's confusing with most amenities (motels and restaurants) crammed willy-nilly around a typical American mall. There are gigantic potholes in the busy parking lot. It was still dark and raining. The motel was expensive and $10 more than the quote when I had called ahead. I don't normally do that (make a reservation) but I didn't want to sleep in my car as once happened when trying to find a motel here. And, for the third night in a row, the plug in the bathtub did not work. Like no one takes baths anymore, I presume. (I fixed the one in Grand Rapids the night before, even when 5 small pieces of the stopper fell apart as I was fussing with it, including a tiny spring.) But, no matter what I tried in Minot, it wouldn't hold water. Such troubles we Americans have....
I ate at a nearby Olive Garden and saved most of the pasta for lunch the next day.
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Travelling ~ Ishpeming, MI to Grand Rapids, MN
A good day....
The sun was rising with no clouds. I decided to explore and headed for the Porcupine Mountains Wilderness SP after scraping frost off my windshield. From Ishpeming, I first drove west, turned north to the town of Baraga and then west again to Ontanagan where I hoped to find something to eat. Ontanagan is a little town and I drove through the three blocks of downtown businesses not really finding anything and was about to head to the Porkies (as the locals call them) but on the way out of town, I discovered a coffee shop. I bought coffee and a plain donut also (the best plain donut I have ever eaten as it was warm and greasy with a slightly crunchy exterior) and drove south along the lake shore in the early morning sun. Near Silver City, I pulled off into a modest local park and walked the shore for 30 minutes, drinking my coffee and filling pockets with stones, thinking of Maria.
The whole morning I was in the midst of a thick verdant landscape of new spring greenery on a million hardwoods. And trillium along the roadsides about half the time along with marsh marigolds in the moist bottomlands.
I went to Lake of the Clouds and walked a short trail which ended on the top of an escarpment, so there is that Grand Canyon vertiginous feeling but there are (of course) stone and wooden walls for protection. Still, the cliff face drops straight down hundreds of feet. A plaque described what birds might be seen, including several raptors. There was a lot of information about the peregrine falcons that can be seen "spring and summer" as this is perfect habitat for them.
Lake of the Clouds is a long lake fed (or drained) by a slow meandering stream easily seen from above. And then suddenly I realized a peregrine was in the sky above me, circling and squawking, allowing good looks as it wasn't even that far away. I watched it for a minute before it seemed to disappear into thin air but probably dropped to a nest on the cliff face. A turkey vulture also moved by, kiting on the wind. The peregrine was unexpected and a life bird for me!
Since there were at least 300 mosquitos per cubic yard of air, I left. The gentleman at the visitor center said that, while the peregrines are known to be here, one doesn't always see them. Like it's not a sure thing.
School kids were on class trips and were running around with bug nets and other gear.
I watched a blackburnian warbler working high in a tree on the edge of the parking lot. (This bird deserves a google!)
There is a "South Boundary Road" which I took and which eventually came out very near the western edge of the UP. I think I saw two other vehicles in the hour it took to drive that. I thought how incredible this route would be in the fall as it was mostly through hardwoods. I stopped and took a few photos at the Presque Ile River, one that is as wild and scenic as any in the US. Huge, huge evergreens had been uprooted and were stuck in the middle of the roaring water very near the bridge. The North Country Trail runs through here with large cautions about the dangers of wild water. "Even experienced swimmers drown in these conditions."
On through Wisconsin and into Minnesota at Duluth. I thought there was a small loosening scab on my tummy and pulled it off and it was a tick. Jeez. Again, without thinking, I flung it away, but being in the car, guess what? It was also in the car and within a minute or so, I felt it crawling up my leg. As I was in city traffic and looking for the turns for US2, I just flung the tick AGAIN, but in the commotion had missed my turn so pulled into a Walgreen parking lot, searched the floor area by the pedals, found the tick and flung it outside the car.....finally rid of it. I did wonder if it was the same one as the night before and decided it probably was. Believe me, I totally checked out my body after that, and my jeans, socks, shoes, etc.
There is a Great Northern Visitor Center right outside Ashland, WI, and I stopped because it is out in the country in quiet open fiels, and I had a double cheeseburer to eat. I decided to go in and check to see if there were bird feeders. There were but not filled. I bought a little book on Lake Superior beach stones and asked the friendly lady at the desk about Sax-Zim bog. This is an important birding venue up here, especially in the winter, when there is a Birding Festival in February, as boreal hawks, owls, finches, etc., can be seen. The NYTimes had an article on it this year.
The woman at the desk kindly printed out an informative map detailing exactly what roads to drive and where one might see certain species. So off I went. It was 25 to 30 miles northwest from Duluth and is a mostly uninhabited northern bog, measuring 20 miles long by 10 miles wide, watery on the ground, but with a variety of flora, some areas very dense, some sparse, some open fields. I drove the roads for two hours but it was the middle of the afternoon, probably the least best time to see birds in a bog. And I didn't see much EXCEPT at one spot where I sensed and then heard birds singing. I am slowly learning bird calls and knew the common yellowthroat's song. And heard it, stopped and found it, and then also saw briefly but distinctly, a golden-winged warbler! This is not a common bird and has a golden cap and golden wing patches. Wow! That made the second life bird for me today. There were also yellow warblers (common), but, other than a few sparrows and red-winged blackbirds and robins, my Sax-Zim list was not impressive. It was cool, and for some reason, the mosquitoes were still not raging. The sky got more and more overcast but not threatening and I was glad I did this, not really having planned it until today.
Sax and Zim are two tiny towns in the middle of this bog although I never saw either. I eventually drove north to Hibbing and then mostly west to Grand Rapids, Minnesota, where I stayed.
The sun was rising with no clouds. I decided to explore and headed for the Porcupine Mountains Wilderness SP after scraping frost off my windshield. From Ishpeming, I first drove west, turned north to the town of Baraga and then west again to Ontanagan where I hoped to find something to eat. Ontanagan is a little town and I drove through the three blocks of downtown businesses not really finding anything and was about to head to the Porkies (as the locals call them) but on the way out of town, I discovered a coffee shop. I bought coffee and a plain donut also (the best plain donut I have ever eaten as it was warm and greasy with a slightly crunchy exterior) and drove south along the lake shore in the early morning sun. Near Silver City, I pulled off into a modest local park and walked the shore for 30 minutes, drinking my coffee and filling pockets with stones, thinking of Maria.
The whole morning I was in the midst of a thick verdant landscape of new spring greenery on a million hardwoods. And trillium along the roadsides about half the time along with marsh marigolds in the moist bottomlands.
I went to Lake of the Clouds and walked a short trail which ended on the top of an escarpment, so there is that Grand Canyon vertiginous feeling but there are (of course) stone and wooden walls for protection. Still, the cliff face drops straight down hundreds of feet. A plaque described what birds might be seen, including several raptors. There was a lot of information about the peregrine falcons that can be seen "spring and summer" as this is perfect habitat for them.
Lake of the Clouds is a long lake fed (or drained) by a slow meandering stream easily seen from above. And then suddenly I realized a peregrine was in the sky above me, circling and squawking, allowing good looks as it wasn't even that far away. I watched it for a minute before it seemed to disappear into thin air but probably dropped to a nest on the cliff face. A turkey vulture also moved by, kiting on the wind. The peregrine was unexpected and a life bird for me!
Since there were at least 300 mosquitos per cubic yard of air, I left. The gentleman at the visitor center said that, while the peregrines are known to be here, one doesn't always see them. Like it's not a sure thing.
School kids were on class trips and were running around with bug nets and other gear.
I watched a blackburnian warbler working high in a tree on the edge of the parking lot. (This bird deserves a google!)
There is a "South Boundary Road" which I took and which eventually came out very near the western edge of the UP. I think I saw two other vehicles in the hour it took to drive that. I thought how incredible this route would be in the fall as it was mostly through hardwoods. I stopped and took a few photos at the Presque Ile River, one that is as wild and scenic as any in the US. Huge, huge evergreens had been uprooted and were stuck in the middle of the roaring water very near the bridge. The North Country Trail runs through here with large cautions about the dangers of wild water. "Even experienced swimmers drown in these conditions."
On through Wisconsin and into Minnesota at Duluth. I thought there was a small loosening scab on my tummy and pulled it off and it was a tick. Jeez. Again, without thinking, I flung it away, but being in the car, guess what? It was also in the car and within a minute or so, I felt it crawling up my leg. As I was in city traffic and looking for the turns for US2, I just flung the tick AGAIN, but in the commotion had missed my turn so pulled into a Walgreen parking lot, searched the floor area by the pedals, found the tick and flung it outside the car.....finally rid of it. I did wonder if it was the same one as the night before and decided it probably was. Believe me, I totally checked out my body after that, and my jeans, socks, shoes, etc.
There is a Great Northern Visitor Center right outside Ashland, WI, and I stopped because it is out in the country in quiet open fiels, and I had a double cheeseburer to eat. I decided to go in and check to see if there were bird feeders. There were but not filled. I bought a little book on Lake Superior beach stones and asked the friendly lady at the desk about Sax-Zim bog. This is an important birding venue up here, especially in the winter, when there is a Birding Festival in February, as boreal hawks, owls, finches, etc., can be seen. The NYTimes had an article on it this year.
The woman at the desk kindly printed out an informative map detailing exactly what roads to drive and where one might see certain species. So off I went. It was 25 to 30 miles northwest from Duluth and is a mostly uninhabited northern bog, measuring 20 miles long by 10 miles wide, watery on the ground, but with a variety of flora, some areas very dense, some sparse, some open fields. I drove the roads for two hours but it was the middle of the afternoon, probably the least best time to see birds in a bog. And I didn't see much EXCEPT at one spot where I sensed and then heard birds singing. I am slowly learning bird calls and knew the common yellowthroat's song. And heard it, stopped and found it, and then also saw briefly but distinctly, a golden-winged warbler! This is not a common bird and has a golden cap and golden wing patches. Wow! That made the second life bird for me today. There were also yellow warblers (common), but, other than a few sparrows and red-winged blackbirds and robins, my Sax-Zim list was not impressive. It was cool, and for some reason, the mosquitoes were still not raging. The sky got more and more overcast but not threatening and I was glad I did this, not really having planned it until today.
Sax and Zim are two tiny towns in the middle of this bog although I never saw either. I eventually drove north to Hibbing and then mostly west to Grand Rapids, Minnesota, where I stayed.
Travelling ~ Baldwin, MI to Ishpeming, MI
I got a couple of newspapers (Grand Rapids Press) at Housemans, went to Big Star to fill feeders and stopped briefly at Bowman's Bridge where I spotted a male redstart. Maria, Deborah and I made yearly spring trips here and always saw this warbler, usually several, both male and female. But it was cold, windy and misting rain so not exactly birding weather. I did remember last year when Maria spotted a woodcock on the ground and another year we saw an indigo bunting, causing paroxysms of delight. This I will miss so damn much..this sharing of all the natural world offers every day.
I left Townsend with a heavy heart and drove out on Peacock Trail, to the north, instead of my usual departure route which was south.
Being Sunday morning, there was little traffic and I took the state highways instead of the interstate going through Traverse City (grabbing coffee at a Starbuck's in Meijers and a to-go sushi deal) and driving through Charlevoix and Petoskey and all the smaller towns along this route. On one lake, there was a pair of common loons close to shore. Loons are the quintessential northern birds, heavy-bodied, moving low in the water, their unique call/song both beautiful and mournful to me, and especially so this spring.
As always, the Mackinac Bridge was a bit of a thrill. It is such a magnificent structure. There were high wind warnings and everyone drove carefully.
I headed toward the area in the woods where one can often hear and see Connecticut warblers. Very specific directions had been given on eBird: Take route 123 north from Trout Lake, turn onto forest road 3344, drive 1.4 miles to a flooded sphagnum moss area with Baccinium all over, and an understory of alders and small maples. The person reporting had seen the CW singing near the top of a small Jack pine. I found all this easily enough except for the specific Jack pine and except for any warblers at all, except one yellow-rumped. The road was a sandy two-track, easy to drive, and I could have continued on it for 25 miles to the UP town of Hulbert. I thought about it but didn't. The weather was not conducive to finding warblers as it was very windy and mostly overcast, cold and the middle of the afternoon. I would have been surprised if I had found my target, but that's the fun of birding: one never knows.
As I headed north to US28 and then turned west, the sky cleared and it was absolutely stunning, as some of the route goes right along the shores of Lake Superior. I passed a tiny protected cove with evergreens on the point, a wee sandy beach and white-capped waves coming in from the north. The sun was out; the air was as clear as it gets, crisply defining everything. A wild beauty.
My motel room had a window in the back looking out over the riparian flora along a small creek. I walked along this for a bit listening to a robin singing non-stop. A bunny hopped into the thick greenery. I flushed a deer.
I had bought a pasta deli salad at the store in Baldwin and had that for supper.
I found a tick on my arm and, without thinking, flung it off onto the floor, whereupon I couldn't find it again so spent the evening about 1% concerned it would find its way back to me. But it didn't keep me from sleeping soundly.
I left Townsend with a heavy heart and drove out on Peacock Trail, to the north, instead of my usual departure route which was south.
Being Sunday morning, there was little traffic and I took the state highways instead of the interstate going through Traverse City (grabbing coffee at a Starbuck's in Meijers and a to-go sushi deal) and driving through Charlevoix and Petoskey and all the smaller towns along this route. On one lake, there was a pair of common loons close to shore. Loons are the quintessential northern birds, heavy-bodied, moving low in the water, their unique call/song both beautiful and mournful to me, and especially so this spring.
As always, the Mackinac Bridge was a bit of a thrill. It is such a magnificent structure. There were high wind warnings and everyone drove carefully.
I headed toward the area in the woods where one can often hear and see Connecticut warblers. Very specific directions had been given on eBird: Take route 123 north from Trout Lake, turn onto forest road 3344, drive 1.4 miles to a flooded sphagnum moss area with Baccinium all over, and an understory of alders and small maples. The person reporting had seen the CW singing near the top of a small Jack pine. I found all this easily enough except for the specific Jack pine and except for any warblers at all, except one yellow-rumped. The road was a sandy two-track, easy to drive, and I could have continued on it for 25 miles to the UP town of Hulbert. I thought about it but didn't. The weather was not conducive to finding warblers as it was very windy and mostly overcast, cold and the middle of the afternoon. I would have been surprised if I had found my target, but that's the fun of birding: one never knows.
As I headed north to US28 and then turned west, the sky cleared and it was absolutely stunning, as some of the route goes right along the shores of Lake Superior. I passed a tiny protected cove with evergreens on the point, a wee sandy beach and white-capped waves coming in from the north. The sun was out; the air was as clear as it gets, crisply defining everything. A wild beauty.
My motel room had a window in the back looking out over the riparian flora along a small creek. I walked along this for a bit listening to a robin singing non-stop. A bunny hopped into the thick greenery. I flushed a deer.
I had bought a pasta deli salad at the store in Baldwin and had that for supper.
I found a tick on my arm and, without thinking, flung it off onto the floor, whereupon I couldn't find it again so spent the evening about 1% concerned it would find its way back to me. But it didn't keep me from sleeping soundly.
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