Spring Break 2008: Part 3: Skunked & Near Death Driving

When last we left our intrepid nerdy-birders, they had finished the afternoon at Mary Jo's Ash Canyon Bed and Breakfast.

Before we crashed out there was actually much more drama: the promised internet connection at Ramsey Canyon Inn was...not so much in actual existence. There followed a very stressful twenty minutes when all of the following events occurred: I had to sweet-talk Bill's aged mother-in-law into letting me try to use their business computer to log on. I failed to be able to log in to EITHER of the two computer systems I needed to access. I tried jacking the ethernet cable straight in to my own laptop, but the firewall wouldn't let my laptop talk to the internet. The ONLY thing I could get in to was my work email, from which I sent a panicked email to my professor. Then I left the smelly main lodge and ran into Brian, who had given up on going out to dinner and started grilling. I burst into tears of anger and frustration, feeling like my stupid class was ruining our day. Brian soothed me, forced me to eat the chicken, and we staggered in to town. Finally found a McDonalds with internet access. Brian bought fries for him and a sundae for me while I tried to get my work done before the battery died. The only plug in evidence was in use by a woman who had a saint-style bleeding-Jesus-on-the-cross desktop photo. STRANGE.

Tuesday was looking up quite a bit when local birders Rick & Cindy arrived at our B&B exactly as Brian and I were loading the car. They directed us through the back residential streets to the front gate of the Ft. Huachuca Army Depot. They talked us through the process of checking in to the base, and in no time we were on our way up Garden Canyon.

We were in search of the Elegant Trogon, birds that nest in only a few places in the United States. They usually show up on tax day. This year they were a day early, and we got a great view of them. Unfortunately, I forgot my camera when we got excited that they were there. On our return trip, they were hunkered down somewhere cool & shady for the afternoon.

We drove higher into the canyon on a rough dirt road. It was a good thing that we'd rented a SUV with high ground clearance. At the second picnic area, we parked and walked into the woods looking for warblers and petroglyphs. We saw the cave art, but didn't get any warblers.





At the end of the road, we parked and hiked up the trail probably two more miles. Rick was an excellent ear-birder. He would hear one or two notes and tell us what we were listening to. His eyes weren't so good, but Cindy's were excellent. He'd tell us what we were hearing, and without fail she'd spot it. The woods were pretty quiet, but we still managed to get a large number of birds. Most of them were flycatchers that we never would have been able to ID without Rick & Cindy.

We spent the entire morning in the canyon with them. About lunchtime, we threw in the towel and headed off the fort and back in to town. Before we dropped Rick & Cindy at their car, they took us up their road a little bit looking for scaled quail, these goofy little quail that look like they have cotton balls glued to their heads. Rick heard a Scott's Oriole flying overhead, but neither of us got a good enough look at it to add to our list.

Unfortunately, the gigantic ops blimp that the fort uses for reconnaissance training was down on the ground, signaling high winds. The winds did, in fact, come up as the morning progressed. By afternoon, it was pretty breezy. We decided to spend the afternoon at another B&B that is known for the sheer variety of hummingbirds.

Up at Beatty's Guest Ranch, there were fewer hummingbird feeders. A gentleman at the entry directed us up through the apple orchard to the other viewing station. It was really strange being in the middle of the desert and surrounded by budding apple trees.

Up at the observation station, we ran into a guy we'd seen in Garden canyon photographing the trogons earlier in the day. We ran into the loud couple from Pennsylvania that had been on the river walk with us, and the obnoxiously loud couple from Pennsylvania that had been on the EOP walk. As the two other couples chattered away, we learned that one of them was the nature writer for a newspaper in the Allentown area . I wish him joy of his columns the next few weeks, because he certainly dampened the pleasure of our visit to the viewing station.

We did see lots and lots of hummingbirds there. Most were species we'd caught at Mary Jo's or at our own B&B yard: Black chins, Magnificents, Broad billeds, Anna's. Finally, after almost an hour, we saw what we thought was a female calliope hummingbird. A few minutes later, her mate buzzed in for a snack and we were sure.

On the left, a female calliope. On the right, a magnificent.





While we waited for our calliope, we spotted a lucifer hummingbird, too.






Finally, our calliope lit long enough for me to get a few shots of him.





An Anna's started buzzing around, too, and I got a really lovely shot showing the iridescent red hood they wear.



The wind kept up, though, so we gave up after a few more minutes. Back in our canyon, we birded our way slowly back up the road. We started with a nice little Swainson's Hawk sitting on a utility pole at the end of the road.





We didn't get a second shot at the orioles, but by the time we got back up the canyon, a flock probably 20 turkeys was in and around the yard at the B&B. Within an hour or so, most of them had roosted in the trees and were just gobbling at each other now and then.

After making dinner, we walked down the road at dusk to try and spot some elf owls. We heard them chattering at each other and saw some bats. Another quarter-mile down the road and we were able to see the tiny, tiny owls flitting up onto utility poles and starting to hunt.

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Wednesday was the day we were planning to go the farthest afield. We were headed to Patagonia, where there is a rest stop that is a hot spot for wrens, warblers, and other migrants. Up that way was another state park and yet another backyard habitat that attracts an incredible number of birds.

First stop was the rest stop. We got there as a few other birders were finishing up. We had to work really hard to see much of anything, and nothing photo-worthy. We had grabbed the camera and were about to cross the road to a small river that is another great spot for birds. In rolled three vans of retiree birders and their guides. Brian and I decided to bag the walk across the street if we were being invaded by 20+ people. We would cross and re-cross paths with these vans for the rest of the day.

From there, we drove up to Patagonia Lake State Park, another hot spot for migrants to lay over on their way north. We got skunked again out there, with very few birds coming out to play. We hiked up one trail, failed to see the promised black-capped gnatcatcher.

We made lunch at the shoreline of the lake and headed back into town to Mrs. Patton's place. The Patton's home has been open to the public for years and years, even since Mr. Patton passed away. We ran into some folks from the EOP walk, and some other folks from the river walk here! It was getting to be a very small town for birders.

We sat in a very pleasant back yard watching lazuli buntings and finches galore, until a kestrel came zipping through and chased everyone away. The hummingbirds were the first to filter back in, but finally the bigger folks came back to the feeders. We finally got our eyes on our Scott's Oriole. A few minutes later, our violet crowned hummingbird showed up. Those were the two real prizes we were hunting for, so we birded and ran!









From Mrs. Patton's, we drove into a Nature Conservancy area. The wind was up and the birds were hiding, so we didn't bother to pay the fee to walk the trails--especially since they were less than an hour from closing. Instead, we opted to go back to the rest stop and try the river walk there.

We were rewarded for our efforts with a rufous crowned sparrow and more looks at vermillion flycatchers and scotts orioles.

It was getting on to late afternoon, so we decided to head back home. We chose an alternate route home, which was going to take us past Parker Lake. We drove along grassy uplands on the east side of the Huachucas through a road that got smaller and smaller the farther we went. We finally got to the lake, where we were rewarded with a spectacular view of a gigantic lake. We spent about twenty minutes trying to decide what kind of cowbird we were looking at. When we finally gave up and were pulling out of the lot, I caught a glimpse of a bird. I got a good look before he flew, but Brian missed it. A flip through my book revealed that it was a Black Phoebe. Brian was able to spot him and even take some shots of him sitting out over the water, waiting for his next meal.











The gazetter showed us a road that wound around the south side of the mountains and brought us home back up from near the Mexican border. The narrow paved road turned into a recently graded gravel road. Since Border Patrol passed us and made their way on ahead, we figured it had to be a decent road.

We did keep seeing these signs, which sort of amused us and sort of worried us.




So the road. It was in the gazetter. Had to be navigable, right?

Uh, NO.

It got incredibly twisty and windy and narrow and climbed in altitude to almost 6500 feet. Brian was a basket case, and though I'm not scared of heights, even I was a little nervous on the road. I was mostly nervous because the sun was setting and we were losing light fast.

Just as we neared what we hoped was the crest, there were some pretty good sized rocks in the road.

Except, then they flew out of the road into the ditch alongside it. Turns out they were two exceptionally complacent Montezuma Quail.





Finally, just as the sun was setting, we crested the hill and were on our way down. It didn't take long for the gravel road to become paved again, and by full dusk we were back down in the valley and listening for owls as we cruised back up the canyon.

For the next two days, Brian kept pointing at the mountains and saying, "I DROVE up there!"