Southeast Arizona's "Sky Islands"--A Long Overdue Birding Adventure

Over the past few years we have had several major, out-of-state trips canceled for one reason or another. In June of 2020 we had a trip to Alaska scheduled. We were to rent an RV and drive the Alaska Highway, visit Tok, Fairbanks, Denali, then down to Homer to paddle Katchemak Bay. After that we were to head over to Seward for a day on a sight-seeing trip to Northwestern Glacier. But all of that was canned due to COVID. Then last year I signed us up for a guided birding trip to Colombia, the country with the most species of birds (over 1900). That trip, set to happen in early December 2021, got switched to a trip to Costa Rica when not enough people signed up for Colombia. Then the tour company went out of business.

I was determined that we were going to go somewhere. We had travelled to the Badlands, Yellowstone, and Grand Teton in 2016 and that had been our last big adventure. I looked at our schedule and saw a gap in April, then I looked at my bucket list. Arizona popped out like an engorged tick. (Well, that doesn't sound pleasant.) Like an angry pimple. Oh never mind, you know what I mean.  I had never been to the state and had never birded the southwest. Also there's a big birding festival in the state in August (monsoon season) that I would like to do some day, but that would mean having work of the region's birds. I talked to the girls and they approved so I planned the trip.

We almost had to cancel our plans again when, on our way to a show in SE Michigan the week before we were to leave for Arizona, the wheels literally fell off. Less than an hour from home the bearings seized on the camper and the tire fell off. We nearly missed the show but Lisa came to deal with getting the camper to the repair shop and we continued to Novi, staying with my mom during the show.

I think we need that....

It took six hours and multiple tow trucks to get the thing to the repair shop (that's a story of its own) and when the mechanic looked at it the following Monday he said we needed a new axle, and that wouldn't be available for 4-6 weeks. Not only did that mean to trip to Arizona was in jeopardy but it was also going to affect our show season. There are a myriad of reasons whey we camp at shows rather than get hotels (which, again, could be its own post) so we considered our options, which were few.

You would not believe what this cost.

What we ended up doing was buying a new (used) camper. It was not an expense we were planning for but after talking it through we decided to take the plunge, get something a bit bigger that would be better suited for all three of us (even though it's often just me on the road) and then sell the other camper after it's fixed. Much like used cars, campers are in high demand still. We got lucky with this one (two feet longer, 6" wider, and has a slide out) as it had just come in the day before as a trade-in. We snatched it up. Not only is it much nicer than our other camper (better quality parts and build) but it has a double axle. This way, if a wheel falls off, there's another one that will at least allow us to limp to the repair shop.

This thing feels super fancy compared to what we've had in the past, and I in turn feel super spoiled. It's amazing what a difference having that couple extra feet that the slide-out gives you in the center of the camper--it feels enormous even though it's not much bigger than the Wolf Pup. Of course it came with it's own set of problems. We bought it on a Tuesday but had to leave it until Saturday so they could "prep it." That meant leaving two days late, but that was better than not going at all. But when we got it home it became clear they hadn't actually done a damn thing, and we discovered that the water system leaked and was not usable and we couldn't get the refrigerator to light (we fixed that on the road), among other things. We decided to deal with the inconvenience and just go.

Arizona is a big state but we planned to focus on the southeast region for one main reason--the "sky islands." For more detail you can look them up but basically they were formed by volcanic activity hundreds of millions of years ago. They lie in a region that connects the southern Rockies and the Colorado Plateau to the Sierra Madres in Mexico.  Because they are surrounded by a "sea" of desert and desert scrub each mountain range is essentially cut off from the others, hence the idea of islands. 

The region is rich in biodiversity because as one travels up in elevation, the climate changes and creates differing bioregions that support completely different species. According to the Sky Island Alliance, there are nine bioregions, or life zones, in the mountains of Southeast Arizona: Sonoran Desert scrub, desert grassland, open oak woodland, canyon woodland, pine – oak woodland, pine – oak forest, pine forest, montane fir forest, and subalpine forest. The Pinaleño Mountains and the Santa Catalina Mountains are two of the ranges in southeastern Arizona that reach the highest life zone (subalpine forest). 

Here's a graphic I found online showing the different bioregions or life zones: 

This all means that one can travel 6,000 feet up and visit habitat consistent with travelling 1,000 miles north. It hosts hundreds of bird species, some resident, some breeders, some migrants using the mountains to hopscotch north. Also, because it's so close to the border there are some species there that are not normally found in the states, such as elegant trogon, eared quetzal, and flame-colored tanager. It is, in short, a birder's paradise. 

We busted our butts to get there in three days. We stayed with Marcy Gray, a most gracious host who allowed us to park next to her house, plug into her electricity and use her showers. Not only that but she spent two days driving us all over the place. She has a guide book-level knowledge of the region and what birds are where and when they can be found. She liked to point out to people we met on our travels that she's not a professional guide but she sure as hell could be.

We had arrived with just enough time before dark to set up the camper, so I was up and out at dawn the next day to have a look around. Wow. Her neighborhood sits at the southern edge of the Santa Catalinas in Tucson, and the morning sun lit them up. I had Bailey with me so I'd left my camera back at the ranch--there were far too many pokey, bitey things that he could get into and with his intensely impetuous nature that I had to watch him like a hawk. Even so, I managed to see five new species in the 15 minutes we were out. I decided I needed to get up even earlier the next day and head out with my camera.

Chain-fruit cholla (pronounced choy-a).
One of the many pokey things I had to keep Bailey--and myself--out of. 

Fruits of a staghorn cholla.

I'd had something of an itinerary planned out and had wanted to head to Saguaro National Park the first day, but the forecast was for highs in mid-90s. I am not a fan of the heat so we rearranged our plans and headed up into the mountains. One of the reasons the sky islands host such great diversity is that, in addition to squeezing out what moisture is left from the winter rains coming in off the Pacific, the temperature gets gradually cooler the higher up one travels--it can be 25-30 degrees cooler at the highest elevations than down in the desert. Day one, therefore, saw us head up into the Santa Catalinas and up to Mt. Lemmon.

This is a beautiful, twisty drive with many pull outs. I'm grateful that Marcy was driving as I would have been distracted by the views at every turn.  We were gobsmacked by the saguaros, which grow up to an elevation of about 4,000 feet. 

Looking south towards Tucson from the Babad Do'ag Vista.

The first bird I photographed was the rather ubiquitous black-throated sparrow. I chased a pair around a shrub at the overlook until the male gave up and came out and perched, singing . 

Black-throated sparrow, life bird #563.

As promised, the higher we drove the habitat changed. We found Woodhouse's scrub jays and Townsend's warblers at 5,000 feet, but another couple hundred feet higher and the jays were the similar but distinct Mexican jay.

Woodhouse's scrub jay, life bird #564

We stopped in the Bear Canyon area and stayed until lunch. I chased a bunch of birds around, including this gorgeous yellow-eyed junco. They too were quite ubiquitous and I had many opportunities to photograph them. Being in the sparrow family they were typically low to the ground and easy to photograph.

Yellow-eyed junco, life bird #567. (eBird doesn't record birds in order of when you see them but in 
taxonomic order, if they are all in one report. I did actually see them before the redstarts
and Grace's that follow.)

There was nothing easy about photographing the painted redstart. A low to mid canopy dweller they were constantly on the move. While bright sunshine is good for the soul it's awful for shooting a black bird in a shady tree.  I was happy to come away with anything. Some photographers will use playback (playing a species' song over a speaker) to try to bring a bird in closer for better photos but that's not my thing. I settle for what they give me.

Painted redstart, life bird #565. This image could use more processing
but I don't have time for that right now!

The redstart has a habit of fanning its wings and tail, and I was happy to catch a couple shots of this behavior.

I lucked out and fired off a couple shots of a warbler moving through a pine near our picnic table. Turned out to be a Grace's warbler, one of only two I saw (and the only one I got pics of).

Grace's warbler, life bird #566

As we pushed up the mountain Marcy turned us down Incinerator Road, with "road" used loosely. It wasn't terrible but I'm glad she has a high-clearance vehicle. We found our target there--red-faced warbler.

Red-faced warbler, life bird #569

We drove to the end of the road near Mt. Lemmon, then headed back down, stopping in the town of Summerhaven. This place has been recently burned in wildfires and is being rebuilt. The whole region, already hot and dry, is getting hotter and drier, and wildfires are becoming a greater risk with each passing year.

View from (near) the top.

Sabino Creek begins just outside Summerhaven and runs all the way down the Santa Catalinas to Marcy's neighborhood. In Summerhaven it had water, but by the time it reached Tucson it was dry. Up here the creek attracted all kinds of birds, including a large flock of pine siskin, song sparrows, juncos, thrushes, and towhees.

Spotted towhee, not a lifer but first decent photos I've gotten of one.

Another yellow-eyed junco because jeepers that's a gorgeous little bird.

Burn-scarred trees in Summerhaven.

We made a few stops on the way back down to take in the views, which were prettier in the slanting afternoon light.

We made it back to town at dusk and Marcy treated us to dinner at El Charro, a restaurant celebrating it's 100th year. Another big WOW right there!

Next: day 2, the Santa Rita mountains and Madera Canyon.