Blue Goose ~ Day 20

June 20, 2014 ~ Stanley, ND to Williston, ND

I set two alarms for 0445 as Lostwood NWR was 25 miles north, and I was told be there at 0530 for registration. I ran into the grocery store, brushed my teeth, washed up a little, bought a deli sandwich and a banana and got to Lostwood at 0550 which was fine. I am very conscientious of speed limits AND didn’t want to hit a deer on the way, although this country is so wide open that drivers at least can see deer in the daylight. 

Lostwood is another beautiful refuge, several miles long with some lakes but mostly rolling hills covered with grasses under an endless sky.

Lostwood NWR - ND

There were coffee and muffins. All was free and after milling around a bit, getting slightly acquainted, and then 14-16 of us birded for four hours. We were in two mini buses, one driven by the refuge manager, a young and personable guy named Corey. Karen, a former refuge manager, was a knowledgeable and enthusiastic guide; there was a top state birder from Bismarck and two brothers who lived near the refuge, all of whom helped us find birds (or at least hear them). It was very windy and mostly overcast and chilly, but so it goes sometimes. We would stop and listen and scan and walk about, hoping for the elusive and secretive grassland sparrows: Baird’s, LeConte’s and Nelson’s Sharp-tailed along with Sprague’s Pipit. I was disappointed as I thought this might be my chance to find these birds; however, we mostly didn’t have any luck. The guides tried their best, had scouted the refuge prior to this event and had “heard” some of the target species but with the noisy wind and cool temperatures, we “dipped” as birders say. We did see a couple of Lark Buntings though as consolation birds since apparently they are not usually on this refuge. And for me, the best sighting was mother moose with two calfs. I was surprised that moose were in this open habitat.

Lostwood NWR - ND

We also saw the endangered Piping Plovers which nest at Lostwood, through the scopes, and which was a marginal viewing for me. 

Finally, we bused to a known hangout for the Sprague’s Pipit, off the refuge on state land, and walked the prairie. So this is what Sprague’s do: they skylark, meaning they fly very high and hang around up there, vocalizing intermittently, sometimes not returning to earth for an hour or more, but usually to the same field, sort of like Woodcocks. Some of us saw and heard them. I thought I saw and heard them, but the seeing were fleeting dark specks, and the hearing was only a bit more definitive. So did I add that bird to my lists (life and year and trip)? No. My rule is to get good looks, although I do admit that I have a few birds that don’t meet this criterion (like the Tropical Kingbirds that flew over the golf course at Quinta Mazatlan in Texas but were pointed out by our guide) so there is a spectrum of acceptability, but mostly I want a memorable ID with field marks. The skylarking pipits remained on my wish list. 

We went back to the refuge offices, had lunch and listened to a talk about the Plains Tiger Salamander, given by an salamander enthrusiast and teacher at a small community college in the area. He was charming and loved salamanders. I learned more that I thought I would ever want to know about this critter. He had live specimens of both the larval stage (aquatic and what folks call mud puppies) and the adult  (terrestrial). Both were about 8 inches long, squirmy and grayish. No pretty spots like the smaller salamanders we see in Michigan. 

The final event for me was a grasses / wildflower walk on the windy prairie lead by Laurie, the refuge’s biologist who also happens to be Corey’s wife. The complexity of grasses is amazing, and I will no longer try to figure them out. As a token, I will recognize Smooth Broome by the raised “W” on the leaves. The flowers have names like Prairie Smoke and Bastard Toadflax. The more we looked, the more we found, and both Laurie and Karen made it interesting. We tasted Ground Plums which are marble-sized and firm and taste like pea pods. 

Lostwood NWR

Managing these grassland refuges means constant vigilance so the exotics don’t push out the natives. This is accomplished by “prescribed burns,” by grazing (usually cows from the neighborhood), by careful use of herbicides, by biologic controls… As one becomes more aware, one sees the variety of these grasslands, and those with flourishing native plants are prettier and and more interesting than homogeneous fields of invasive Kentucky blue grass or Smooth Broome.

This was just a very cool event…a group of people out on the high windy plains, learning about salamanders, pipits and vetches.

I left early afternoon and drove west to Lake Zahl NWR, which was small but perfect in that I pulled onto a two-track and, for an hour, listened and watched for whatever came by. The wind had stopped; the sun warmed the air just enough and the insects were minimal. The first bird I saw was a Chestnut-collared Longspur which does, in fact, have a rich chestnut nape (not collar) and a chest and belly that is sooty black, looking like the bird got too close to a fire. I have settled into these hours of watching and waiting. The trick though to pick a good spot, and I will sometimes stay for only 2.5 minutes and leave to find another place.

Just south of Lake Zahl NWR - ND

On to Williston, ND. In case you don’t know, Williston is known as the town of the Bakken oil field fame…the oil that is extracted by fracking. I stayed in a motel and worked, but then the water somehow leaked from the bathtub all over, and I had to change rooms and the rooms were marginal with worn and grubby carpeting. It was a Priceline deal so the motel refused to adjust my bill, saying I had to talk to Priceline. I was in an indoor room adjacent to a huge cheerless conference room and someone spent hours vacuuming it, and when I moved, I was next to the hot-tub / pool room…also noisy. The new room’s bathtub dripped. 

I worked the next morning until noon and then drove around for 45 minutes trying to find a quick lube place, but the wait was at least two hours. And there were no coffee places. And the trucks were

gigantic; everything was dusty on the highway through this noisy, busy, booming city. I imagine the smart strong guys are in the field (a few women but this is a guy thing for the most part), and the slower, less physically fit do all the jobs in infrastructure support, like cleaning motel rooms and waiting tables, etc. There is a lot of money to be handed out, and since everyone nowadays is jazzed and entitled by our pop culture, there is this swagger in being on the road to a higher level of consumerism. And there has to be a surplus of testosterone. Has anyone yet written a book about this phenomena? How the locals have adjusted…how much more do parents have to watch their teens…how much crime is there…how much substance abuse and domestic abuse? What about prostitution? What is life like in the man camps? How do law enforcement and city government cope  with the onslaught? And what is this doing to the water and air? 

Some of the refuges are relatively safe from the oil industry as they were established early and have full mineral rights attached, but some don't have that and there actually are oil rigs on their lands. If you want more specific information, check out www.gpo.gov. Add some search terms like "oil on national wildlife refuges. And, of course, political higher powers influence what happens. 

There were 510 listings in the yellow pages in Williston for Oil Field Services alone, with another 20-25 categories related to Oil…like for “Oil Well Fishing Tools”  or "Oil Field Royalties." The town has an unsettling edgy energy. I know I only just drove through so this assessment is admittedly simplistic. 

While Willison is the epicenter, the larger involved area goes in all directions.