Davidson Woods

White-tailed Ptarmigan - Yes! - July 21, 2010
MarkD submitted on January 15, 1970
A nemesis bird is one that frustrates a birder's best efforts to observe it by staying elsewhere or out of sight despite best efforts to locate it. We have had various nemesis birds, and the White-tailed Ptarmigan was working hard for this distinction. We missed it in Alaska and in Montana in 2007. This year we again put it on our target list. We hoped to find it in Washington State, but deep snows prevented access to its primary habitat. We made one valiant attempt, renting snowshoes at Mt. Rainier with the intention of treking into its range, but were repulsed by heavy fog and avalanche warnings. We enjoyed a...
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENT<html><head></head><body><img align="left" height="188" width="250" alt="" src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dsvnnf8gj/image/upload/v1776544621/DSCN5786.jpg" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px;">A nemesis bird is one that frustrates a birder's best efforts to observe it by staying elsewhere or out of sight despite best efforts to locate it.  We have had various nemesis birds, and the White-tailed Ptarmigan was working hard for this distinction.  We missed it in Alaska and in Montana in 2007.  This year we again put it on our target list.  We hoped to find it in Washington State, but deep snows prevented access to its primary habitat.  We made one valiant attempt, renting snowshoes at Mt. Rainier with the intention of treking into its range, but were repulsed by heavy fog and avalanche warnings.  We enjoyed a sweaty and hypoxic climb that resulted only in misted eye glasses and the eerie feeling that we were going to be lost on the mountain. The next possible place to find the bird was in the southwest Colorado Rockies.  We planned to spend a week here in Cortez.  I wrote and e-mailed local bird clubs and inquired at local wildlife offices.  All suggestions led to central Colorado, and we did not have time for that.  Instead we reconoitered the nearby ridges.  On our first sortie we drove 25 miles up a rough dirt road to find access to a trail that took us after a few miles to alpine meadows.  This held promise, but the trail was heavily used by dirt bikes and I did not want to drive our little car up the access road again. On our second venture, we drove to Durango and north to Molas Pass.  There were trails there, but no reports of ptarmigan.  The drive was long.  I checked "e-bird" reports and noticed one decade-old report of the bird in the Lizard Head Wilderness that is about fifty miles from here on a paved road.  There was a trail to above tree-line.  After some discussion, Anne and I agreed that this would be our best shot.  This morning we arose at four a.m., breakfasted, and started up the highway.  We noticed a thunderstorm to the northwest.  This raised concern, but we arrived at the trail-head at just before 7:00 a.m.  Another hiker was preparing to make a walk up the ridge.  We prepared our gear and ventured forth.  The ponchos were in the pack, but we knew that any lightening would turn us around at tree-line. The rain did not come.  The clouds softened the summer illumination giving soft light to the alpine meadows that were full of columbines, larkspurs, and assorted daisies, asters, and other "composites."  We looked for birds in the woods and found pine grosbeaks, three-toed woodpeckers, and other small birds.  Fox and Lincoln's Sparrows sang in the openings.<img align="right" height="188" width="250" alt="" src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dsvnnf8gj/image/upload/v1776544618/DSCN5777.jpg" style="float: right; margin: 0px 10px;">  The trail was very steep, taking us 1,800 feet up to the top of Black Face Mountain at a bit more than twelve-thousand feet above sea level.  The trail crossed numerous avalanche zones that were cleared of trees and talus slopes covered with boulders and cobbles.  In between the openings were groves of blue spruce and Douglas fir.  The air was cool and damp.  Rain had fallen overnight freshening the small streams along the way.  The hike was lovely, but we both suspected the objective was out of reach.  Even if the weather permitted us to walk the ridge-top, we were unlikely to find the bird.  The biologist contacted at the visitor's center said this was too far west and suggested we go north.  There was only one report in the past decade.  The weather was marginal.  Ptarmigan become silent in July and look like lichen-covered cobbles.  There were lots of lichen covered boulders in the meadows.  Still we persisted.  We have acclimated to altitude, but the climb was still difficult in the thin air. Reaching tree line we saw the other hiker had advanced toward the peak.  The sky was mostly cloudy, but the clouds were largely horizontal.  The breeze was modest and the air was now cold.  We started into the alpine lawn.  At first we followed the trail, but when the meadow opened up, I suggested I walk to the side of the trail to increase our odds of flushing a bird.  We walked in parallel about fifty meters apart.  At a promising location I pulled out my I-pod and played one round of White-tailed Ptarmigan calls.  As I did so Anne saw a bird spring from the grass near her and fly past me.  I frantically tried to turn off the machine and call to her not sure she had seen the bird.  I saw its white wings and recognized our quarry.  It passed ten feet over my head and had continued over the ridge top.  In moments I pocketed the I-pod and began walking toward the slope where the bird had disappeared.  Slowing I began to scan and soon spotted the bird tacking back toward me on the ground.  It clearly was not happy to hear the call on its territory.  Anne came up next to me and we observed the bird approach to about fifteen meters and stand on a rock.  Then it began calling.  Watching the cock, we observed movement in the meadow near it and eventually observed two hens and at least half a dozen chicks coursing in search of breakfast.  We kissed, Anne snapped a few photos, and we continued to the peak excited and relieved that we had found this bird.  Other climbers joined us at the top where we lunched.  The abrupt point of Lizard Head Mountain was a focus of our attention.  The greater summit of Wilson Mountain remained hidden in clouds.  We never saw it.  Before storms developed in the afternoon, we had started down.  About a hundred meters from the peak we saw a hen ptarmigan standing on a rock but a few meters from the trail.  Watching her we observed several chicks feeding in the meadow there.  We snapped her picture and gently walked past.  She stepped nervously off the rock, murmured to her brood, and they began walking off. <img align="left" height="188" width="250" alt="" src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dsvnnf8gj/image/upload/v1776544624/DSCN5799.jpg" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px;">We arrived at the car just as the rain started.  We enjoyed a fine hike, fabulous scenery, lively wildflowers, and views of a bird that threatened to become a nemesis.  Birding at its finest. </body></html>
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July 20, 2010 - Mesa Verde National Park, CO
MarkD submitted on January 15, 1970
Coming east for the past month, we finally ran out of Utah. There we ventured by a multitude of strange rock formations including arches, natural bridges, pinnacles, fins, cliffs, and slot canyons. Traveling to lower elevations we passed through thousands of feet of sediments that comprise the Colorado Plateau. This mass of nearly continuous deposits over the last 500 million years was shoved up some ten thousand feet and is now being furiously washed out by the streams that flow across it. Some layers being harder than others, where a stream finally cuts through a tougher layer, it quickly saws through softer layers underneath leaving towering cliffs with impressive overhangs. ...
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENT<html><head></head><body><img align="left" height="188" width="250" alt="" src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dsvnnf8gj/image/upload/v1776544609/DSCN5679.jpg" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px;">Coming east for the past month, we finally ran out of Utah.  There we ventured by a multitude of strange rock formations including arches, natural bridges, pinnacles, fins, cliffs, and slot canyons.  Traveling to lower elevations we passed through thousands of feet of sediments that comprise the Colorado Plateau.  This mass of nearly continuous deposits over the last 500 million years was shoved up some ten thousand feet and is now being furiously washed out by the streams that flow across it.  Some layers being harder than others, where a stream finally cuts through a tougher layer, it quickly saws through softer layers underneath leaving towering cliffs with impressive overhangs.  Two species of sandstone, the older (and lower) Wingate and the higher, Entrada, are among the most impressive cliff formers.  These rocks, really rock!<img align="right" height="333" width="250" alt="" src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dsvnnf8gj/image/upload/v1776544612/DSCN5697.jpg" style="float: right; margin: 0px 10px;"> Throw in faulting and collapses of sections of rock above where salt layers dissolved away, and the landscape becomes a maze of canyons, reefs, and even a "staircase" that a ten thousand foot giant could walk down extending from eleven thousand feet to about six thousand feet.  This is also the region of the Anasasi, an Indian people who lived here for hundreds of years and then moved out at about 1300 A.D. for reasons unknown.  These were a people who had not yet moved past stone tools but who established a remarkable architecture, building hundreds of stone cliff dwellings, mostly in alcoves within the canyon walls (Entrada formation).  Many of these villages, protected somewhat from the weather, have survived these 700 years and inspire awe of the creators.  I am awed by the commute that these people had to make to reach their farmlands on the mesa above the cliffs.  Today, we take stairs to get from the flat land above to the dwellings below.  These people used tiny notches in the rock faces to climb up and down the canyon wall as much as one hundred meters.  That was some comute!  I guess they stayed fit or they fell off the wall.  Burial would be unnecessary.  The deceased would truly be gone. <img align="left" height="188" width="250" alt="" src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dsvnnf8gj/image/upload/v1776544615/DSCN5738.jpg" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px;">Our travels have been grand.  The weather has finally turned warm, but the nights are mostly cool.  Here we have the Rockies only thirty miles away and have turned to exploring them the past couple of days after we tired of the archeology.  The wildflowers are now spectacular there.  Tomorrow we will take a last high country hike.  Today is a chore day. On Thursday, we turn south into Arizona, stopping first at Canyon de Chelly where we will explore more Indian ruins.  Then south into southern Arizona for the Southwest Wings Birding Festival.  August is peak birding season in that part of the world.  The "monsoons" have begun and the birds should be singing during this late summer "second spring."  Migration also begins in August, and so more northern birds will be filtering in to make the birding truly exciting.  Arizona was to be the last major component of our "Wild West 2010" expedition, but after our time there we will start our return home by first turning north and heading to southeastern Colorado.  There we hope to meet the Carbones at Great Sand Dunes National Park in mid-August.  We have conspired to pick the brain of our family geologist, Emily.  She might rather we didn't, but that's tough.  We have to make use of our resources. Now to town for laundry, shopping, post office, and Internet access.  This should be posted today.</body></html>
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July 4, 2010 - Escalante UT
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 15, 1970
Sunday at camp and time for relaxation and small chores. Independence Day was celebrated here yesterday. This is Mormon country and, as in Southern Baptist country, the church is the focus of social life and Sunday is the main church day.

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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENT<html><head></head><body><img width="200" height="267" align="left" src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dsvnnf8gj/image/upload/v1776544606/DSCN5627.jpg" alt="">Sunday at camp and time for relaxation and small chores.  Independence Day was celebrated here yesterday.  This is Mormon country and, as in Southern Baptist country, the church is the focus of social life and Sunday is the main church day.  So, yesterday we dined at the Lions fund-raiser dinner at the town park and watched the fireworks show at the high school.  We are told that this was the small show.  The big one is at a Mormon holiday later in the month.  We also stopped for a beer after dinner at the grill in front of the campground.  The waitress had to charge us for chips "food" because in Utah one may not serve drink without food. The fireworks started when it was almost dark, at almost ten o'clock.  We parked at the back of the high school for the show.  When it ended we joined the small queue to exit.  It took almost five minutes to get out of the parking lot.  This was a big traffic jam in Escalante.  From there we drove 15 miles east and then up a forest service dirt road into the ponderosa pines to a spot where we had been told live flammulated owls.  We have never seen or heard a flammulated owl.  These birds are tiny and strictly nocturnal.  They feed early in the evening and in the spring relax about midnight and hoot contentedly for several hours.  It is late in the year to be seeking them, but since we were staying up way past our bedtime anyway, we thought it was worth a shot.  Never having driven the road, the trek was a small adventure.  The cattle guards were rough, potholes and cobbles lay in ambush, and the path wound up a mountain.  One very large cow stood uncertainly at the edge as we slowed down and passed in front of her.  One rock banged something underneath although I slowed down and passed it right of center.  As such roads go, it was good and took us from the desert into the pines.  We saw many moths but heard no owls.  We reached the reported turnoff at about eight miles, turned around, and parked.  We walked up the trail playing the owl tape at every fifty paces.  The silence was unseemly and the darkness intense even though the line of the milky way seemed as a plume of white smoke crossing a sky packed with pricks of stars.  We crossed a mass of tracks that I first took as horse prints.  The flashlight revealed them to be elk tracks.  Anne became uncomfortable.  She expressed no desire to meet either a herd of elk or a foraging bear on this mountain.   I told her she had much less to fear of that than of hazards in driving the wooly road in our little car.  She commented on that too, expressing the view that she wanted to sleep in our motor home that night.  So, the seeking ended.  I commented that if we knew the trail, we could hike the two miles to the top and back just listening as we walked.  But not on this night. Now knowing the road, the drive back to the highway was easier.  I still had to take it slow.  We did not want to roll up either an elk or a cow, but at least I knew where the curves and major bumps were.  Still, reaching the highway I banged the front end on the shoulder turning out.  We stopped at a lookout and studied the stars until we shivered in the rapidly cooling night air.  Now tired, I carefully drove the remaining ten miles into town and the Broken Bow RV Park.  We found the little porch light on our rig and noticed that the air was perfectly still.  We slept until 6:30 a.m. Today started with our traditional Sunday breakfast of eggs with meat.  Today it was a fine bacon.  Anne worked laundry.  I maintained the vehicles.  I washed dust from the gills of our little Ford Focus as well as I could.  Anne's door has been sticking so I sprayed water into the door latches and handles.  After an hour I sprayed in WD-40 and then silicone lubricant.  Hopefully that will help.  With a few pounds of desert soil removed, the car will at least run lighter.  When we get home the air filter will be replaced with the first service. <img width="200" height="267" align="right" src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dsvnnf8gj/image/upload/v1776544603/DSCN5623.jpg" alt="">Tomorrow we move about 80 miles to Capitol Reef National Park.  I expect to see more cliffs, rock windows, and spectacular canyons.  Having walked and climbed about our first slot canyons, we are now old hands at traversing this lovely, arid, and rugged terrain.  We have adopted a local motto, "have water will travel." </body></html>
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Escalante UT, July 2, 2010
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 15, 1970
The sun is intense and the bright gray siltstone that makes up much of the canyon wall creates a huge reflecting funnel. This afternoon after a day of touring, we sit in our air-conditioned motorhome. It it were not windy, we might make do by putting out the awning, but today it would blow away.

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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENT<html><head></head><body><img width="200" height="267" align="left" src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dsvnnf8gj/image/upload/v1776544600/DSCN5607.jpg" alt="">The sun is intense and the bright gray siltstone that makes up much of the canyon wall creates a huge reflecting funnel.  This afternoon after a day of touring, we sit in our air-conditioned  motorhome.  It it were not windy, we might make do by putting out the awning, but today it would blow away.  Yesterday, our first day here in slickrock desert, we hiked up Calf Creek Canyon to see its magnificent waterfall and thousand-foot red canyon walls.  The trail stayed close to the stream and  passed over rock and through groves of box-elder and Gambel oak.  Yellow-breasted chats, common yellowthroats, and yellow warblers serenaded we hikers.  This morning we drove up onto the top of the plateau to walk across a high basin in search of dusky grouse and greater sage-grouse.  At almost ten thousand feet elevation the walking was cool there, but a half mile stroll along the edge of spruce/fir forest failed to flush any dusky grouse.  We gave up on that and walked down into the sagebrush basin.  Four pronghorn approached to within fifty meters and stopped.  They and we studied each other, and then they bolted off at a right angle across the high plain.  We made our turn and assumed we would no see sage grouse  wondereing how these near turkey-sized birds could be concealed in the low prairie.  Then, as we walked and chatted, three birds exploded into flight about twenty feet to our left.  We brought up our glasses and watched them fly and finally soar to a landing a few hundred meters away.  We followed and flushed one a second time.  It flew to the edge of the forest and perched on a boulder.  We watched him for a few minutes, cheered, and continued toward our car.  We concluded that the grouse were the rocks that took off before you stepped on them. Otherwise the birding was uneventful.  We have already seen most of the birds of this region and didn't spot any rarities.  We lunched at the Escalante town park and decided to drive to Boulder to visit the Anasazi State Park Museum.  There we saw ruins of a pueblo built in the mid 1100's AD.  The village consisted of masonry mostly square town houses.  Most were about four meters square, but one was twice as large.  The chief's no doubt.  Still, the dwellings suggested that their purpose was to provide modest comfort and little show.  These people were poor.  Many of the early indian hovels, I can not call them houses, were accessed by a ladder through the roof.  I joked to Anne that Grandma was finished when unable to climb up the ladder.  Sadly, that was probably not a joke at the time. The drive between Escalante and Boulder is grand.  The two-lane first climbs out of the river valley and crosses barren desert.  Then it drops back into the canyon to cross the river.  On the east side it turns and climbs up the wall of the Calf Creek canyon.  At the top this section of the plateau becomes a fin between two canyons.  The shoulders drop off about a thousand vertical feet.  The Utah DOT waists no money on guide rails there, but does post the speed limit at 35.  I was at first surprised at this remote speed zone, but soon was having trouble keeping up 30.  I told Anne to direct my steering as I could not keep my eyes open.  She laughed, but I drove with two hands firmly on the wheel and my eyes bolted to the winding roadway.  This may be a scenic highway, but the driver can't look. We will celebrate Independence Day here before moving on to Torrey and the parks there.  </body></html>
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June 12, 2010 - Stone ID
MarkD submitted on January 15, 1970
The natives are complaining. This may be a year without a summer in this Northwest Region. Here in the desert the folks are astounded by summer tanagers. These birds are everywhere and people who have never before noticed them now see their red faces peering from yard shade trees. The birds want to go up the mountain and get about the business of breeding and nesting, but the mountains are cold and covered with snow fields and trees that are only now beginning to leaf out. Meanwhile the deserts are green, or at least much greener than usual as almost daily rains continue into June. We may have been rained...
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENT<html><head></head><body><img align="left" height="108" width="150" alt="" src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dsvnnf8gj/image/upload/v1776545501/western_tanager.jpg" title="western tanager.thumbnail.jpg" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px;">The natives are complaining.  This may be a year without a summer in this Northwest Region.  Here in the desert the folks are astounded by summer tanagers.  These birds are everywhere and people who have never before noticed them now see their red faces peering from yard shade trees.  The birds want to go up the mountain and get about the business of breeding and nesting, but the mountains are cold and covered with snow fields and trees that are only now beginning to leaf out.  Meanwhile the deserts are green, or at least much greener than usual as almost daily rains continue into June.  We may have been rained on each day so far this month, mostly in eastern Washington and Idaho.  We thought we were done with rain when we left the Pacific coast.  Mostly, here, the rainfall has been light and sporadic.  The clouds appear more ferocious than the rain that results and give us a wonderful ceiling in this big sky country.  The weather prevented our venture into northern Nevada and the Ruby Mountains there.  The ranger on the phone said, “The campground is closed and the trailhead is inaccessible since the mudslide.  Besides, the snow is deep on the mountain.”  Our plans were changed quickly and here we are in the Curlew National Grassland where the Long-billed Curlews make their crazy song and churl-churl-churl over the sagebrush.  <img align="left" height="113" width="150" alt="" src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dsvnnf8gj/image/upload/v1776544597/DSCN5377.jpg" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px;">Today, we ventured into The Beehive State and visited the Golden Spike National Historic Park.  How disappointed was I to find that the spike now sits in the Stanford University Museum.  More disappointing is to remember that we stopped there when we were in Palo Alto to find that it was the one day a week when the museum is closed.  Worse, we arrived at the park in time for a reenactment of the ceremony and I (Chuck) was volunteered to play a role, that of the telegrapher.  The engines met, the spike was driven, and I tapped out D-O-N-E.<img align="right" height="113" width="150" alt="" src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dsvnnf8gj/image/upload/v1776544588/DSCN5371.jpg" style="float: right; margin: 0px 10px;">  This skit is one of a few we have encountered in these parks and always they have been wonderful.  The leader and coordinator for the show here, one John Watt retired electrical engineer, wearing a fine period suit, brought forth a fine show for an audience of about fifty souls.  Almost five hundred attended the original ceremony at this remote spot.<img align="left" height="113" width="150" alt="" src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dsvnnf8gj/image/upload/v1776544582/DSCN5358.jpg" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px;">  The location for the meeting was somewhat arbitrary as the two contractors’ crews had run their grades 250 miles past each other (this was a government contract) and it made sense to have the tracks meet somewhere between the two end points.  The railroads, under some pressure from President Grant, agreed to connect at a point about the middle of the section with the two parallel grades.  That the spot was (and is) in the middle of nowhere was resolved by one of the contractors, Union Pacific, immediately selling its track to this point from the next nearest city to the other contractor, the Central Pacific.  The President of that company and Governor or the Golden State, one Leland Stanford, (no conflict of interest there, I guess) took home the golden spike so it wouldn’t get lost.  It is no surprise that it ended up in the college that now bears his name.<img align="right" height="113" width="150" alt="" src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dsvnnf8gj/image/upload/v1776544585/DSCN5370.jpg" style="float: right; margin: 0px 10px;"> This evening we sit in our little motorhome as the rain falls and the thermometer reads 50 degrees F.  If it stops we’ll take another walk up the canyon before dark.  Last evening we enjoyed a fine stroll there gazing down at the little reservoir and up at the grassy and green mountains.  Nighthawks “peenting” and whizzing by closely snarfed flies rising from the lake as sage thrashers serenaded the evening with their continuous soft song.  We turned around where the canyon turned in front of us above a grand meander.  There we were greeted by a flock of bank swallows that had clearly made a colony on the bank below and resented our presence.  We returned to camp as the sun sank over partly snow draped peaks to the west and sharply illuminated the ridge to the east as we and the sagebrush prairie fell into the shadow.  This is what we came west for, and we are enjoying it.</body></html>
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The Town That Time Forgot: Silver City, Idaho
MarkD submitted on January 15, 1970
We had NO IDEA when we were following directions from the Idaho Birding Trail that we were going to find a modern day “Brigadoon”. June 7th had started out as a routine birding day. At 6:15 am we were on the road in southern Idaho. By mid morning we had already seen 42 species with 2 stops: Bruneau Dunes State Park, which has “the tallest single-structured sand dune in North America” and Ted Trueblood Wildlife Management Area, a large lake surrounded by reeds.Late morning we reached the Road to Silver City. Not sure how far we could go with our little Ford Focus on what was reported as a 23-mile...
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENT<html><head></head><body>We had NO IDEA when we were following directions from the Idaho Birding Trail that we were going to find a modern day “Brigadoon”.  June 7th had started out as a routine birding day.  At 6:15 am we were on the road in southern Idaho.  By mid morning we had already seen 42 species with 2 stops:  Bruneau Dunes State Park, which has “the tallest single-structured sand dune in North America” and Ted Trueblood Wildlife Management Area, a large lake surrounded by reeds. <img align="left" height="150" width="200" alt="" src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dsvnnf8gj/image/upload/v1776544570/DSCN5314.jpg" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px;">Late morning we reached the Road to Silver City.  Not sure how far we could go with our little Ford Focus on what was reported as a 23-mile gravel road, we were pleasantly surprised that the 1st 7 miles were paved.  Further on, the road gradually deteriorated and the last 4 miles were quite rutted and rocky.   Twice we were met with signs that told us after that point, any rescue would be ‘on our own’.  However, there were some special birds to look for on the way and in the town, so we kept going.<img align="right" height="150" width="200" alt="" src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dsvnnf8gj/image/upload/v1776544567/DSCN5312.jpg" style="float: right; margin: 0px 10px;"> The road was quite scenic winding back and forth with great views of the valley below and the snow-covered peaks above.  At 6600 feet we reached the top and started going down the other side.  Earlier a couple of trucks passed us carrying 4 wheel off road vehicles, otherwise we saw few people.  On the way were patches of snow and one snow bank about 5 feet high.  We later heard they had 2 feet of new snow about 2 weeks ago. 4 miles further on at about 6200 feet elevation Silver City appeared nestled into a steep mountain valley.   <img align="left" height="188" width="250" alt="" src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dsvnnf8gj/image/upload/v1776544573/DSCN5315.jpg" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px;">Silver City was built in the 1860’s to support the gold and silver mining.  There were 2500 inhabitants at it’s height and was actually the county seat until sometime in the 1930’s.  We expected to find ruins of buildings and some mining equipment.  However, when we arrived we saw people, some trucks, and a number of the 4 wheelers.  A sign indicated that the buildings were all privately owned.  Some looked occupied.  There was an old drug store (not active), a hotel and bar (open), and a number of other establishments.  The whole town looked like it might have at least 100 years ago with no running water or electricity.  There was even a public outhouse and campground. We managed to find somewhat of a parking space, walked through the town, and talked to 3 fellows eating their lunch in the ‘park’.  They had passed us earlier on their OHV’s. There were hummingbird feeders on several buildings with fresh nectar.  Leaves on the trees were just leafing out and daffodils and tulips were blooming.  The creek was overflowing in places, so we could not get to the cemetery.<img align="right" height="188" width="250" alt="" src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dsvnnf8gj/image/upload/v1776544579/DSCN5319.jpg" style="float: right; margin: 0px 10px;">  In town among other birds, we saw Calliope and Black-chinned Hummingbirds, as well as Fox Sparrow and Green-tailed Towhee.  Both of the latter were ‘first of the year’ for us. Other ‘first of the year’ birds on the road were Chukar, Rock Wren (Anne), Cordilleran and Gray Flycatchers.  The trip added 22 birds to our day list.  Though I, Anne, was skeptical of some spots, Chuck did a great job of maneuvering our faithful little car up the road and through town.  The trip to Silver City was just another eventful birding day!  </body></html>
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May 26, 2010 - Grayland WA
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 15, 1970
Coastal Washington has been a bit cold and dreary this week, but we enjoy staying in place for one full week here. It has been a lot of miles since starting in the middle of March.

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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTCoastal Washington has been a bit cold and dreary this week, but we enjoy staying in place for one full week here.  It has been a lot of miles since starting in the middle of March.  Arrived here last Thursday and found the RV park to be less than mediocre.  The roads were gravel and low with many water-filled potholes.  The grass had not been mowed and lots of clumps of lawn clippings indicated that mowing was normally let go too long.  Worse, the tap water was yellow and turbid.  We have elected to bring home water for cooking and drinking rather than chance the local brew.  Still, we have been happy not to move the rig. On Saturday, we joined a Westport pelagic boat trip to the Grayland Canyon some thirty miles off the coast.  Gladly the wind died on Friday and did not start picking up until Saturday afternoon.  The seas stayed at least a bit below ten feet.  The captain kept the heading at 270 degrees and ran hard to get us to the edge of the continental shelf.  Along the way we saw most of the coastal seabirds including hundreds of sooty shearwaters and a lone tufted puffin or "football with wings." I stayed at the back corner of the cabin where I could look forward into the stiff wind and spray if necessary and stay reasonably dry and warm.  We were off course well dressed with long-johns, fleece, rainsuit, and boots for this trip.  About half way out I heard the cry "skua!," turned and walked to the opposite (starboard) corner to see a bird larger and fatter than the gulls turning slowly away.  The tail was short and the "flash" broad on the gray hunter.  I looked for Anne and she saw me and gave me a thumbs up.  We had both seen this South Polar Skua, a life bird for the two of us.  The boat continued its westward passage.  At thirty miles the wind was up but the seas still not too bad.  The boat slowed and chum and fish oil scattered aft.  The boat circled.  There was another cry for storm petrel, and we saw our first fork-tailed storm petrel skimming over the oil.  Another life-bird.  Then the albatross began to arrive.  The black-footed albatross is not much larger than a goose, but its seven-foot wingspan makes it appear a giant among the gulls.  At least seven came into the boat and some sat down in the water and drifted with us as gulls circled and cried among the chum.  What a grand site.  The albatross was our third life-bird for the day. The weather had held.  We passed through one shower which yielded a fine rainbow, but most of our ten hours passed without rain.  There was always spray, of course, and we cleaned our lenses repeatedly.  A few folks became sick, but the scoplamine tablets worked for us.  I ate lunch after the boat turned around.  Anne decided to pass and took another pill that kept her comfortable.  The trailing seas pushed us back to harbor.  The craft surfed past the jetty where red knot and pelicans roosted.    We bought fish for dinner and rinsed off at home.  Tired but refreshed by the rough boat ride we shared a bottle of Rogue ale and dined on tuna.  It was a fine day of birding. Since Saturday the weather has been a bit soggy, but we have gone out every day for a drive or short hike.  Now we enjoy the Westport Library with local books, The Seattle Times and WiFi access.  Too bad there is no Wall Street Journal but still good. Tomorrow we make a short drive to spend a night in a state forest near Olympia.  We will listen for owls there.  On Friday we pull into Bonney Lake near Tacoma to visit with old friends for the weekend.  Our course is no longer westward but will become east and southeast as we begin a long-long route to Arizona and home.
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May 16, 2010 - Newport OR
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 15, 1970
We have abandoned California and arrived in the Pacific Northwest. Leaving the redwoods in the Crescent City CA area was difficult, but the sharp green hills and rugged coastline of western Oregon are very welcoming.

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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTWe have abandoned California and arrived in the Pacific Northwest.  Leaving the redwoods in the Crescent City CA area was difficult, but the sharp green hills and rugged coastline of western Oregon are very welcoming.   We sighed looking at the giant redwoods and there saw our first Hermit Warbler.  Known as a "sore neck bird" it resides high in the Pacific Coast forest trees coming only half way down to peer at us mortals squeaking imitations of its pleasing song.  We heard the peculiar hooting of the Spotted Owl but did not see this other denizen of these dark forests.  We also enjoyed hearing the hauntingly melodic song of the Varied Thrush in the redwood groves.  Its song consists of a series of spaced multi-harmonic monotones each at a different pitch.  Someone should make an album of its song to provide comfort to those in the busy world.  Our first stop in Oregon enjoyed some excitement.  Setting up camp was disturbed by the discovery that one of the rear tires of the motorhome was deflating.  We made good use of our roadside assistance service and watched as a sturdy woman named Sabrina and her assistant managed to jack up Harley, remove our spare and change the tire.  I concluded that until I obtain a pneumatic socket wrench I will do my best never to have to change a tire on this machine.  Our mechanic dumped the flat in our auto trunk after diagnosing a failed valve stem.  We  gave her a fond farewell.  The next day we had the tire repaired and struggled to slide the new spare into its cradle.  We then jacked it closed and bolted it tight.  We stayed two nights near Eugene visiting my brother and niece there.  We found them well and enjoyed the spring weather.  We hurried on to this location to join a pelagic birding boat trip on Sunday from Newport Harbor.  We are camped at South Beach State Park among pines and dunes in a Tsunami Hazard Area.  If the ground shakes we are to leave as soon as it stops.  That assumes of course that we can and that the road is open.  I'm hoping the ground does not shake while we're here. The boat trip went well.  The weather and seas were mild and we saw lots of birds, but no life birds on this trip.  We did enjoy our best ever views of Cassin's Auklets and our first views this year of Marbled and Ancient Murrelets.  We also saw probably ten thousand Common Murres.  They are truly common here. The voyage also gave us pleasing views of the scenic Yaquina Head Lighthouse and of the beaches and rocky shores that surround Newport Harbor.  We plan another boat trip at our next destination, Westport, Washington and hope for similar luck on that trip.  We also hope to see an albatross there.
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May 16, 2010 - Newport OR
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 15, 1970
>We have abandoned California and arrived in the Pacific Northwest. Leaving the redwoods in the Crescent City CA area was difficult, but the sharp green hills and rugged coastline of western Oregon are very welcoming.

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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENT<html><head></head><body><img width="300" height="225" align="left" src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dsvnnf8gj/image/upload/v1776544558/DSCN5266.jpg" alt="">We have abandoned California and arrived in the Pacific Northwest.  Leaving the redwoods in the Crescent City CA area was difficult, but the sharp green hills and rugged coastline of western Oregon are very welcoming.   We sighed looking at the giant redwoods and there saw our first Hermit Warbler.  Known as a "sore neck bird" it resides high in the Pacific Coast forest trees coming only half way down to peer at us mortals squeaking imitations of its pleasing song.  We heard the peculiar hooting of the Spotted Owl but did not see this other denizen of these dark forests.  We also enjoyed hearing the hauntingly melodic song of the Varied Thrush in the redwood groves.  Its song consists of a series of spaced multi-harmonic monotones each at a different pitch.  Someone should make an album of its song to provide comfort to those in the busy world. <img width="300" height="244" align="right" src="https://res.cloudinary.com/dsvnnf8gj/image/upload/v1776544749/Hermit_Warbler.jpg" alt=""> Our first stop in Oregon enjoyed some excitement.  Setting up camp was disturbed by the discovery that one of the rear tires of the motorhome was deflating.  We made good use of our roadside assistance service and watched as a sturdy woman named Sabrina and her assistant managed to jack up Harley, remove our spare and change the tire.  I concluded that until I obtain a pneumatic socket wrench I will do my best never to have to change a tire on this machine.  Our mechanic dumped the flat in our auto trunk after diagnosing a failed valve stem.  We  gave her a fond farewell.  The next day we had the tire repaired and struggled to slide the new spare into its cradle.  We then jacked it closed and bolted it tight.  We stayed two nights near Eugene visiting my brother and niece there.  We found them well and enjoyed the spring weather.  We hurried on to this location to join a pelagic birding boat trip on Sunday from Newport Harbor.  We are camped at South Beach State Park among pines and dunes in a Tsunami Hazard Area.  If the ground shakes we are to leave as soon as it stops.  That assumes of course that we can and that the road is open.  I'm hoping the ground does not shake while we're here. The boat trip went well.  The weather and seas were mild and we saw lots of birds, but no life birds on this trip.  We did enjoy our best ever views of Cassin's Auklets and our first views this year of Marbled and Ancient Murrelets.  We also saw probably ten thousand Common Murres.  They are truly common here. The voyage also gave us pleasing views of the scenic Yaquina Head Lighthouse and of the beaches and rocky shores that surround Newport Harbor.  We plan another boat trip at our next destination, Westport, Washington and hope for similar luck on that trip.  We also hope to see an albatross there.  </body></html>
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Calendar
Therese submitted on January 15, 1970
Will the calendar save our family events year to year or do they need to be added every year on the new calendar year? I have to add events every year on my google calendar, but the gmail contacts saves birthdays. This is better but still needs improvement as multiple people often use the same e-mail address. I am hoping for a calendar where events stay permanently year to year.
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTWill the calendar save our family events year to year or do they need to be added every year on the new calendar year?  I have to add events every year on my google calendar, but the gmail contacts saves birthdays.  This is better but still needs improvement as multiple people often use the same e-mail address.  I am hoping for a calendar where events stay permanently year to year.
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