Boreal Vacation--MBY Vol 9

About a week into my Michigan Big Year I started to think about places I would want to visit around the state during certain seasons to get the best chance at seeing specific species. Tawas Point would be on the list as a magnet for migrating warblers, with an added trip into nearby jack pine country to look for the Kirtland's, a Michigan specialty. The Straits of Mackinac in April for migrating raptors would be another. And for sure a few trips into the Upper Peninsula would be in order for those northern/boreal birds that don't come below the bridge. Here's part of that story:

February 22

I'd been seeing eBird reports of three of the notoriously hard-to-find boreal species along a road in the McCormick Wilderness west of Marquette--Black-backed Woodpecker, Canada Jay, and the appropriately named Boreal Chickadee. I asked for some advice in a U.P. birding group on Facebook about the road and how accessible it was in winter. Turns out Marquette County maintains it in winter but to be mindful of the logging trucks (!!). I checked the weather, found a motel with a kitchenette so we could eat in (because COVID and Lisa's Celiac), and we headed north.

We stopped in Mackinaw City to see the famous blue ice near the bridge, but there were so many people there (it being a Sunday) that we didn't even bother parking. We admired it from afar as we crossed the Mighty Mac. Driving north on I-75 we birded the "Rudyard Loop", a rectangle made up of country roads where past years had yielded a bounty of Snowy Owls, although our quarry was Sharp-tailed Grouse. We didn't see a single raptor of any kind, and at 1:30 in the afternoon it was kind of late for grouse. We did find a flock of at least 100 Snow Buntings, but did not find any new species for the year.

Driving west on U.S 2 along Lake Michigan's northern shore we could see more blue ice, but there was by and large very little ice of any kind on the lake. In Naubinway we stopped for an early dinner (or late lunch) at MooFinFries, a little restaurant that has glute-free fries, burgers and whitefish, then made our way to the Hillcrest Inn and Motel in Rapid River. A charming little "mom and pop" establishment, it was clean and didn't smell bad (a big worry of mine with these old motels). We had two rooms (connected) with three beds. One room had two beds and a bathroom, standard issue motel room, but in the other the bathroom had been converted into a kitchen and had a dining table and queen bed. Plus they allowed pets!

It snowed overnight but had also warmed up to above freezing. Everything was melty and we encountered some fog on the way to the McCormick Wilderness. I had only a general idea of where we were going, knowing that we were looking for the White Deer Lake Trail parking lot. The road was a bit rough but not too bad since the potholes were filled with snow. We did pass several logging trucks but there was plenty of room on the road for us to move over and let them pass.

We eventually came to a parking lot with a sign that said simply "McCormick Wilderness." We had not yet reached the spot where I had dropped a pin in Google maps that I thought was the trailhead, but we stopped to have a look around. It certainly fit the bill, right down to the bird seed that I was told people leave at the edge of the lot.

Fog beginning to clear.

I could see a Boreal Chickadee on the pine by the road before I'd even gotten out of the truck (it's a Chevy Suburban but truck is much easier to say and type!). I had seen these guys in Alaska in 2014 but was so happy to get one in my own back yard. It was eating peanut butter someone had smeared on the trunk of the tree.

Boreal Chickadee. Note the brown cap and brownish back, and rufous sides.

There were, I think, three of them, plus a number of Black-capped Chickadees. The woods rang out with their calls, the boreal's a bit harsher than the black-capped.

They're just the cutest damn things. I mean, really.

While we watched the birds another truck pulled up between us and the tree, and the man put his window down and asked if we'd seen any chickadees. Oblivious of the fact that I'd been taking pictures of them and that he'd just pulled between us, I was a bit short in my reply, but I immediately felt bad for my gruff attitude. They got out and he took a bag of seed over to the tree to add to the pile that was already there. Turns out Mark and Joanie are long-time birders (46 years!) and live in Au Train, a little town east of Marquette. They are usually in Texas this time of year, leading tours at the Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge, but the pandemic had caused all tours to be canceled, so they were making the best of being stuck in the U.P. all winter. It also turns out that we were at the trailhead and hadn't realized it!

We drove further down Peshekee Grade but didn't see anything. They then took us to a cabin nearby where there are feeders that the black-back sometimes comes to, but aside from a small flock of Evening Grosbeak we didn't see anything of interest. We parted ways then, promising to keep in touch if we saw anything "good," and we drove back to the trailhead to eat lunch out of the back of the truck and take a quick hike down the trail.

White Deer Lake trailhead, which, in our defense, was not visible from the parking lot.

It was a splendid afternoon, sunny, light breeze. Lisa and I donned our snowshoes (Lori is recovering from knee surgery) as the snow was quite deep, but it was too warm and we kept getting balls of snow accumulating under our shoes. It was like walking on softballs. Lisa managed to develop a stride where she kicked the snow off with every stride but I couldn't manage it, and ended up taking them off on the way back. The trail was packed enough to keep me post-holing, thankfully. I tried really hard to enjoy the afternoon but I was pretty frustrated.

From the bridge over Baraga Creek

Lisa toughing it out with Bailey in tow.

I LOVE black spruce and their pointy heads.

Back at the truck we decided to drive Peshekee Grade past the trailhead again, slowly with the windows down. Over two miles out, and two miles back, we did not see or hear a single bird. I was pretty bummed. It was after 4:00 and the sun was starting to settle, and we'd only seen one of our target birds. It was two hours back to the motel (and dinner) so we decided to pack it in. 

My doubts about the whole Big Year thing started creeping in. I tried to tell myself to enjoy the journey, that it wasn't about the numbers, that missing birds that others saw did not mean I was a lousy birder.... But we'd spent a good bit of money coming up (motel, gas, dinner the day before) and I was just--ugh. 

As I'm dumping all this on the girls and feeling really pitifully sorry for myself, a bird flew across the road right in front of us, and landed in a pine not 10 feet from the road. Lori cried "Canada Jay!" but I knew that wasn't right. While the light wasn't great I could see that this bird was almost entirely black.

I slammed on the brakes, setting off the ABS, which made a horrific noise. Thankfully the bird seemed not to care, because there on the trunk of a dead pine was a Black-backed Woodpecker.

Male Black-backed Woodpecker (note golden crown).
Oh happy day!

I got a look at it with my binoculars to get a positive ID, practically laying in Lori's lap and twisting myself into a pretzel to see out the passenger window. Having already put my camera away I exited slowly and crept around the back of the truck and popped the rear gate. The chime dinged but still the bird was non-plussed. I snuck back around the truck as the girls gave me updates of his location. I finally spied him through the branches, working his way up the trunk. I did the best I could with the light I had to work with. 

Oh such a stunning bird! Not only was this a great find for my big year but it was also life bird #511.

I had left the truck kind of in the middle of the road so I hopped in to move it to a pull off just ahead and the bird flew off, but we'd all gotten great looks at it. I put my camera away and climbed in. The girls said while I was out taking photos they had thanked the birding gods for sending us the black-backed, adjusting my attitude, and saving our trip. 

We continued on towards M-41, content to miss the Canada Jay this trip, but just as the main road came into view my phone rang. It was Mark. 

"Did you get my voicemail?!" 

No, we'd just gotten cell service. 

"Did you see Canada Jays yet?!"  

Peshekee Grade, February 22

#85) Boreal Chickadee

#86) Black-backed Woodpecker (Life bird #511)

From Seward to Wasilla, Alaska Day Seven

 Alaska 2014 continued:


The drive from Seward to Wasilla was punctuated by several stops for birding. Traveling up along Turnagain Arm, a branch of Cook Inlet, we stopped at a roadside park where a creek flowed under the road, and found a pair of fledgling American Dippers sitting on a log. We never did see an adult. If you're not familiar with the dipper, it is the only aquatic songbird in the U.S.  That's right--the dipper feeds entirely on what it catches underwater clean, swift-moving streams, which is about the craziest thing I've ever heard. (If you'd like to see the bird in action, follow this link. Notice how the bird nearly always faces upstream.)

Immature American Dipper waiting for lunch.

We made another stop near Anchorage, at what I think was a ski park, and walked the trails there after having lunch. I don't recall exactly what we were looking for, but I got another great look at what was one of my target birds, the Boreal Chickadee. I'm pretty sure nothing so cute has ever lived.

Boreal Chickadee posing.

The big birding spot of the day was Westchester Lagoon in Anchorage. This pretty, public park surrounds a large pond which has a small island. It was in the 60's, sunny, but breezy. Even so, the Alaskans were out in number, dressed in shorts and t-shirts and enjoying the sun. You could tell us apart from them because we were all in jackets and long pants.

The man-made lagoon is a waterfowl sanctuary. Downdown Anchorage and the Chugach Mountains frame the park.

 Right off we got great looks at an Arctic Tern sitting on a post near the boat launch.

Arctic Tern. I love how tiny their feet are in relation to those long wings and tail.

A mother Mallard took to the water with her brood as we approached.

A Mallard hen with chicks because who doesn't love chicks? Like the sign on the Kachemak Bay boat tour said, they're all good birds.

Bill pointed out a small flock of Hudsonian Godwits resting on the shore of the island. The lighting was terrible for photos but I was excited anyway as these were a new bird for me.

Hudsonian Godwits with a Herring Gull.

While there wasn't the abundance of waterfowl that Bill would have like to have seen, what was there was pretty close to shore, probably used to being fed. I got some nice shots of a Lesser Scaup preening.

Lesser Scaup preening.

This pair of Greater Scaup floated by too.

Greater Scaup. They are differentiated from the lesser primarily by head shape as well as size.

A Gadwall also made an appearance near to shore. While none of these were new to me I was quite happy to get some really nice up-close photos.

Gadwall drake.

We finished the day with a drive up to Wasilla, where we stayed at the Best Western on Lucile Lake. After dinner I crashed on the shore, utterly worn out. The short nights and busy days were starting to get to us all. I really wanted to climb in a canoe and paddle to the middle and sleep. We saw Lesser Yellowlegs on the hotel dock and several pair of nesting Red-necked Grebe, and heard Common Loons calling from across the lake. It was a picture-perfect evening.

Next: We travel up to DENALI!!

From Nome to Soldotna--Alaska, Day Four

 Alaska 2014 continued:

Monday, June 2nd dawned gray but dry. Our schedule had been so frenetic that we had not had time to spend in Nome. Even this morning several of our group went back out to Kougarok Road to look for the Bluethroat. Another birding group had seen one and told Bill where to look--and they found it. But I was beat. I had a raging headache, we were leaving Nome at mid-day, and I really wanted to see the town. I needed some room to breathe. So my mom and aunt and I stayed behind (along with another couple) and we walked around downtown Nome.

Aurora Inn, where we spent three nights. Nice place, with very friendly staff.  

The Inupiaq people inhabit much of the region, and it is thought that they had a small settlement where Nome is today prior to 1898, when gold was discovered in a nearby creek. The town sprung up quite literally overnight--by 1899 more than 10,000 people lived in Nome. That same year, gold was discovered on the beach along Norton Sound, which brought another wave of folks looking to strike it big. The census of 1900 counted 12,488 residents, making Nome the largest town in the Alaska
Territory. But as the gold was panned out people left nearly as fast as they'd come, and by the 1910 census there were only 2,600 residents. By 1934 the population fell below 1,500.  (Wikipedia)

Little is left of the original town, thanks to a couple of fires and a few bad storms (the main road in Nome is only about 50 feet from the Bering Sea). We did not have a chance to patronize the Board of Trade Saloon but we did stop by for a photo.

I can imagine the tinkling of a piano and breaking glass as a bar-fight begins.

Past the saloon and some other businesses is a small park with this welcome sign, commemorating Nome's history.

Prospectors, Eskimos and the dog sled define Nome.

When the Bering Sea is ice-free the port just west of town is quite busy, but the rest of the year the town is reachable only by plane.

Nome's port in the distance. Yes, that 10 foot high sea wall is all that protects the town. You can see here how close it is to the backs of the buildings on Front Street.

The famous Iditarod dogsled race ends here in Nome, and this sign is pulled out into the street to mark the finish line.

Un-mush!

 Behind Airport Pizza, where we ate twice, was this jumble of stop signs, which must be used during the Iditarod. It struck me as comical, with them facing every which-a-way.

Past the park, near the intersection of Front and Bering Streets (which becomes the Nome-Teller Road outside of town) is the Nugget Inn. We did not get to go inside this place either but it looked pretty...eclectic, what with the statues, Umiak frame, giant gold pan and a TREE, of all things.

These folks clearly had a sense of humor.

The closest place to Nome? According to the sign, it's the Arctic Circle, at 141 miles, followed closely by Siberia. (Take into consideration the 70 or so miles we drove north to Teller on day two and we were only 70 miles from the Arctic Circle.)

Putting things in perspective.

We ran into Ed and Katie, who had also stayed behind, and who pointed us to a coffee shop called the Bering Tea Co., a cozy little place with books and games and instruments to play. They had just pulled fresh blueberry muffins out of the oven and I had to have one. If you ever end up in Nome, you gotta stop by this place.

The Bering Tea Co. coffee shop and Vegetarian/Vegan restaurant.

We made our way down to the grocery store, where I picked up a couple apples and some other snacks for the flight back to Anchorage. On the way back to Front Street we passed this park, which had monuments to prospecting, umiak building (the large canoe-type boat used in summer to move people and supplies to hunting grounds) and the Inupiq people. St. Joseph Church is in the background.

The "Three Lucky Swedes" who discovered gold in them thar hills.

We stopped at a gift shop along Front Street (which I think was called Maruskiya's) that had amazing Native art that I could not afford. I ended up with a T-shirt off the clearance rack.

We made our way back to the hotel, gathered up our bags and headed to the airport. The airport in Nome is tiny, but it had the most thorough security of all the airports we were in. It was the only one with the full body scanner booth. The plane we flew was also unique in that only the back half held passengers--the front was all for cargo. We boarded from the tarmac, something I'd never done before.

Upon our arrival in Anchorage, we went right from the airport into another van, and started the drive to Soldotna along US 1 (Sterling Highway). This highway skirts the north shore of Turnagain Arm, off the north end of Cook Inlet, then cuts through part of the Chugah National Forest before entering the Kenai National Wildlife Refuge.

It was such an astonishing change from Nome and the Seward Peninsula. In two hours we went from drab tundra and gray skies to sun, lush green grass and trees. So much of the southern part of Alaska reminded me of the U.P. of Michigan (minus the mountains) that I felt like I'd gone home.

Before we reached Soldotna we made a stop at the Granite Creek Campground to stretch our legs and look for birds. I could hear running water from the campground and it wasn't long before I'd wandered off in search of its source. I was glad I did. Warm sun, blue sky behind snow-flecked peaks, dark spruce, clean fragrant air....ah......  I could have stayed here forever.

Granite Creek, Chugach Mountains National Forest

Due to all the traveling there weren't many birds on our list that day. We did spot our first Bald Eagles of the trip along Turnagain Arm, as well as Ruby-crowned Kinglets and Black-capped Chickadees at the campground. But for me it was a great birding day as I saw my first Boreal Chickadee!  

A Boreal Chickadee poses on a spruce. They're so dang cute!

We eventually made it to Soldotna, where we stayed at the Best Western King Salmon motel, and prepared for our trip to Homer and a boat tour of Katchimak Bay.

Next: Oh the things you'll see!