Roads Less Traveled: Part 3
Along the way, I got lost in the discoveries. Sometimes I'd sit for hours in warm breezes on a winter day in the grasslands waiting for a longspur to show up, only to find a herd of Pronghorn coming to get a sip of water. And I'd forget what I was chasing.
The magic and beauty of southeastern Arizona is a wonder to behold any time of the year. The stories you'll read about today were some of the most impactful chases on this journey to AZ 500. We begin in May of 2017 with an accidental find while on the hunt for a super rare bunting. And it came with drama.
There is controversy, the kind of birding story that reminds you that not every bird on a list comes with a simple story.
By this point in my journey from 400 to 500 state birds, I was beginning to understand that chasing a bird wasn't always going to be about finding a picturesque trail, standing quietly beneath towering trees, and having a magical encounter with nature.
Sometimes the road was complicated as all things in life can be.
The wait for Little Bunting!
Our first bird, the Bobolink, was saucy. Never in my life had I expected the drama to occur as it did. A reported Little Bunting showed up at a place called Slaughter Ranch near the US/Mexican border. The next day hundreds of birders showed up to find this rarity. And it is quite the rarity! How did this Eurasian bird find its way into such a remote area of Arizona. This was a new hotspot for me. When we got there, the shit show was waiting to unfold. Everyone was so focused on the target bird that they forgot to look at other birds. And there was another little gem hidden in the mix!
The best part was that it wasn't an obvious male. It was a female and looked like a meadowlark in the field!
Once the place opened up, everyone had flocked to the area where the bird had been reported. I accidentally walked in front of the large group of birders who had formed up behind one of those infamous Arizona "record keepers". In not such a nice tone, he told me to get out of the area. Who made him king? And it was the damn entrance! How were we supposed to enter the property? Karma would work its magic for me that day.
We got bored staring at the same area for this Little Bunting. After awhile, we wanted to explore the property which had so many amazing birds. As we were exiting the ranch, we noticed a flock of several birds in a pasture. One of the birds in the field looked different. At first glance, people might have thought it was a meadowlark. But it didn't sit right with me. I took pics because something was off about the bird. I collected my data for further study at home. We dipped on the Little Bunting and we left the ranch with that same large group of birders staring at the grass with their "unofficial" leader. They did it for hours while we actually had fun exploring this new area.
This brings me to birders with owl or grouse sightings. Or any super rare sightings. Just be careful. You are excited to post a pic and then everyone wants the coordinates. Consider your friendships because there are many birders today who do not speak to each other over incidents like these. In fact, I've mellowed a bit with that record keeper who got sassy with me. He's not my favorite, but I just smile now at that incident. It was a great teachable moment for me. And I always share those stories with new birders to make them aware. I'm a teacher. It's what I do. The Bobolink kicks off 420. 
Several months go by and it's now August of 2017. A Ruddy Turnstone is reported. I was married and told my partner at the time that I didn't want to drive out in the desert and extreme heat by myself. I asked him if he'd come with me to this remote dairy farm in over 100 degree temps. We met Magill at this farm. We needed our scope to see the bird. I expected a hot, sweaty and stinky experience. It was a slop pond made up of cattle shit. But when we got there, it was way worse.
My gag reflex kicked in which it usually never does. We set up the scope and eventually got onto the turnstone. But the bugs, the heat, the humidity and the smells were awful. After we had satisfactory views of the turnstone, I had my ex get out of the car in his scrubs and look at the bird for 2 seconds so he could count it. When I took a look around our area, I almost threw up. No wonder it was so bad! We set up our scope near a pile of dead cows! How did I not notice that??!!! This was the case of me being so focused on the bird that I didn't take into account my surroundings! Now it all made sense. And to this day, it remains the grossest birding hotspot I've ever been to in my life. However, a turnstone is a really good Arizona bird.
This next bird at 422 was pure joy. I was leading my grassland tour with friend and bird guide, Chris Benesh. We had 2 vans out in the grasslands with over 20 birders. They asked questions about our sparrows and how to tell the differences between our kingbirds. Which is what I was doing. Others in the group were looking at the Black-tailed Prairie Dogs.
A visiting Australian birder left the group and came back to both of us asking what kind of bird was out in the field. "Is that some sort of killdeer?" Both Chris and I put our binoculars up and a "holy shit!" came out of our mouths at the same time. Our 20 plus attendees all stopped their conversations and looked in our direction. As one of the visiting birders said, "If our guides have this reaction, it must be something really good!"
And never have I heard a large group so quiet so quickly! The "killdeer" turned out to be a rare Upland Sandpiper strutting through the grasses. This happened during our Tucson Bird Alliance festival. Every tour that day made sure they stopped by our site to add the Upland Sandpiper to their lists. That year, we had THE BIRD of the festival. And to this day, people still talk about that monsoon miracle.
I moaned in August of 2017. Hot. Muggy. Another water treatment area. And in Phoenix. I hate Phoenix. It's just too hot. And driving over 2 hours these days for a rare bird ain't as fun as it used to be. But on August 22nd of 2017, a Red Knot was reported. This bird was as good as a Ruddy Turnstone, if not better.
We saw it and we counted it. I met with Magill. My other half was with me. And I was honestly ready for the hot part of 2017 to be over and its rare birds to stop showing up in that region.
September arrived and with it slightly cooler temps. There were the trio of Roseate Spoonbills. I had a beautiful day out birding. I ran into Janine and we birded together for a bit of the afternoon.
To this day, I swear I had a rare Clay-colored Sparrow. The chiggers were fierce and bit my legs up but the spoonbills were divine. And any time in the grasslands is a bonus!
Then a miracle happened. One that hasn't happened since. And doesn't happen often. Even rarer? This is the ONLY time I've ever seen this bird. It was a sparrow and I love a good sparrow. A LeConte's Sparrow showed up in Oro Valley where I used to work. So the bird was an after school run out to the golf course. I didn't have my camera with me but I didn't need it.
I walked the edge of the greens. There was a group of birders searching between the desert scrub and greens in the late afternoon sun. A live flute performance from the hotel, carried by the wind, could be heard in the background as the sun began to set. Time was ticking. And just like that, I felt the presence of something different! A sparrow popped out from the shadows of the bushes. I silently sat on the greens. I didn't want to shout. I didn't say a word hoping the birders would see me with my telephone filming the sparrow foraging around the grass with the other sparrows. It took me an hour and some minutes to find the bird. When I put my binos down, a small group of birders were motionless behind me. And like the bird after that sunset spectacle, I never saw many of those birders again. I don't even know who they were. The LeConte's Sparrow is even more rare than the turnstone or knot. Maybe even rarer than the Bobolink. And that was pure utter jubilation. Because it was reported so late, not many birders ever got their eyes on it. I was in the right place at the right time.
On a cool November morning out in the middle of nowhere near Dateland, we got word that a Wood Thrush was driving a tractor. I hate driving out into that area alone as it's quite scary for me. If something happens to you, there is hardly any Wifi or towns around for support. Once you drive past Gila Bend towards Yuma, you are in remote areas of the state. So Magill and I got together and went out for the Wood Thrush. It was an early morning and I wanted to sleep. But Wood Thrushes are pretty beautiful birds. And their song is "ooo la la" straight out of a fairytale.
We went to Dateland where there is a grove of date palms in the middle of a barren desert. We had a nasty date shake just to try a date shake. It was exactly as I thought it would taste. Kind of like chunky dirt in strawberry flavored ice cream. I had never been there before. Dateland is known as a migrant trap for birds looking for water and shade in a very open and exposed, dry desert. As you will see on our journey to 500, Magill and I make great partners finding some amazing birds with the few clues we are given. In this particular case, water was the key. And there were a few dripping pipes and that's where we found our bird. Near the shade.
After all the exciting birds I added to the list, the next one was rather...meh. But it was a good one. A Couch's Kingbird came to a local park. I'm not a huge fan of kingbirds. Don't get me wrong. They are pretty cool birds but not a favorite group. I met up with Gordon and we spotted the bird. It was a state bird. I remember the day being gorgeous outside so we ended up birding Ft. Lowell Park after we got our bird. The story behind this bird is if it seems weird, it probably is even weirder. In the case of this rarity, someone reported it as a similar looking Tropical Kingbird. But it was the wrong time of year. And not calling like a Tropical Kingbird. This is where the Record Keepers come handy!
A Lapland Longspur had me meditate in the grasslands with 2 guys from Alaska as we watched this rare wintering longspur take a drink from the cattle pond. We were so still that the pronghorn all lined up for a drink not frightened by our presence. Yep. Magical.
My last state bird at 429 was the Black-throated Green Warbler with Gordon up in Phoenix. We were standing in this grove of willow trees looking for this warbler. The water was gross. The area is dotted with crime and homeless people but it is a natural area that is home to some of the best birding around Phoenix. It's just best to go with a friend. We locked our doors because cars get broken into there. And I sat looking for this blasted warbler sweating my butt off. Seriously?! When is Phoenix ever cold? January should be cool!
Some birds take you to beautiful places. Others take you somewhere you never expected to go. And then there are the birds that somehow manage to do both. Sometimes the chase itself came wrapped in controversy. Sometimes the experience was pure, ridiculous, unexpected joy. And sometimes the place I had to visit to find the bird could only generously be described as a hotspot.
One of those places where you arrive wondering whether the bird is actually worth whatever you are about to step into. Mud, muck, heat, smells of death, questionable footing, questionable decisions....birding has a way of putting you in some truly glamorous locations. But that's exactly why these birds belong together. They represent the roads less traveled, both literally and metaphorically.
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