January 15th - Trying to Get to the Point Already

Leadbetter Point - Not the *Point* point, but ... keep reading

As one might expect

Early in the year? My mornings are probably starting with owls. On the previous day, I'd wrapped up with 98 species of birds for my Pacific County year list. I woke with plans of simply finding a couple more species to make it a nice round 100. 

The owls did not get the memo. 

I tried several wooded spots on the way up, even calling from the parking lot of the Long Beach McDonalds for a bit while I was waiting for them to open for breakfast. My first trip, a week and a half earlier had given me Northern Saw-whet Owl and Great Horned Owl, so my focus for the morning was the "easiest" owl on the county list - Barred. 

Amazing to think that a mere 40 years earlier, it would have been impossible to find Barred Owls here. Go back 40 more, and it may not have even been hard to find Spotted Owls. But Barred Owls have rule of the roost at night these days in much of Washington State. I've gotten fairly good at calling for them as well (great party trick), but none of my efforts have borne fruit yet this year. As I continued north, I made a stop just outside of Oysterville at a swampy spot where I also had hopes for Western Screech-Owl. I continued all the way to the parking area for Leadbetter, where I added Northern Pygmy Owl to my wish list, tooted for a bit, and then just drifted off to sleep in my car. 

Leadbetter Point

Greeting sign, explaining Snowy Plover protected habitat

HM

My hopes are to explore this place quite thoroughly by the end of the year. I described the appeal of it to me in my post from the previous day. (Good time to direct you to the links at right, including previous posts, and my "Running Tally and Needs List" page!) It's about as remote as you can get, between the driving and the walking. I did not enter the challenge lightly on this particular day, and I ended up putting together a pretty efficient pack. My spotting scope went into my backpack, with some equipment to make a lunch, and my camera bag had my water bottle tucked into it. The aim was to take the trail along the bay, then to cut across from the bay to the Pacific, through a forested trail, before hiking around the very tip of the peninsula towards Grass Island. 

Early signs discouraged me, listing the trails that were flooded, including. . . that one trail I wanted to take across to the Pacific, as well as that other one. "But I am wearing the boots of power! I shall pass!" I did not actually yell this at the sign. Probably just yawned, looked down at my boots, looked back up at the sign and smirked optimistically. It was clearly here for silly kids that came wearing hiking boots instead of waders.

Before leaving the parking lot, I got a new year bird, a Pine Siskin (99! This running tally for the year list will be updated parenthetically). This was a happy bird to find - they are often not uncommon at all, but finches can be hit or miss in the U.S. from year to year, depending on pine crops, beetle outbreaks, cold. . . so it had been a winter season without siskins until now, with this single. Hopefully there would be little clouds of them again, come summer. 

Up the meadow trail, I watched the sun rise through the filter of the branches lining the trail. Birds woke up slowly - kinglets and chickadees, and the occasional song sparrow. The trail opened up to Willapa Bay fairly quickly. 

What a gorgeous meadow! I'd read pretty extensively about people taking hikes here. In some cases, they had made a stream crossing. In other cases, they'd been turned back. I picked up my binoculars and could kind of see where that stream laid. I think the logic in my head was that I could walk to the edge of it and find some nice birds from that edge. Then, as the tide slipped out over the course of the morning, I could either make the crossing, or hope that the lower tides translated to less flooding on the trails. 

A Northern Harrier coursed over the meadow, which reminded me that it might also be a good place for Short-eared Owls, which reminded me of my original reason for coming here, Snowy Owls! They've been seen over the years at Leadbetter. And it's not as if they have been experiencing an irruptive year, where many of them had come down into the state, but I was running a kind of year where I wanted to follow up on nearly any long-term pattern. As another birder had noted, even without the owls, there were good chances for other birds like Snow Bunting and Lapland Longspur that aren't seen every year. 

I crossed the meadow, following some sort of trail, nothing more than a line of matted-down grass. Even here, I was happy for the boots. It was a little muddy at times, and I occasionally stepped in standing water. Simple hiking boots would have been a bit of a mess by the end of the hike!

I did finally reach the stream. I pulled out my scope and started peering across the other half of the meadow to what I assumed was Grass Island, and the shores near it. There were huge numbers of waterfowl - Northern Pintail, Green-winged Teal, Mallards, and American Wigeon. Canada and/or Cackling Geese were also parked in a pile on a far shore. All of these birds were a bit too far away to properly enjoy them. 

Nearer in, a couple of Buffleheads played in the stream, and a flock of shorebirds whirled back and forth over the wet meadow, eventually finding a suitable spot to poke around for food. 

I gave up on any hopes that the stream would become passable. Even in areas where it seemed shallower, there were parts of the stream where the bottom couldn't quite be discerned. So, I walked the edge of the meadow back towards the Bearberry trailhead. As I walked, I picked up my first Yellow-rumped Warbler (100) of the year. Bird 100! I kept my ears open for anything resembling a Palm Warbler - also possible at this lovely spot, but a rarer find. 

The Bearberry Trail brought me to a flooded section. I tromped through and the smirk I'd been wearing earlier got a little bigger. But then there was another, more deeply flooded section. . . boom, cleared it. I felt like the beach was certainly within reach at this point. Then I got to a third flooded section. I tried walking the edges, and then when forced down the trail itself, I walked until the water was almost to the rim of my boots. It did not get above it. . . but the simple process of tipping my leg forward to make a step brought some water into my boots. Not a lot, but enough to get me to turn around. Trail 1, Tim 0.

The easy part

Lol no

Back through all of the water, with Fox Sparrows calling all around me, and the occasional Pacific Wren. I got to the Bay Loop Trail and was pleasantly surprised by a half-dozen Varied Thrushes. They're my favorite bird for quite a few reasons. 

I tried again for Northern Pygmy Owl, as the shore pines got a little tighter in around me. In addition to some Varied Thrushes "tchup"ing in response, I got a "tchup tchup" of a different quality. Hermit Thrush! (101). This guy took some work. I had him making noise invisibly around me for 5? 10 minutes?? before I finally got a peek - just enough to confirm it was a brown thrush. 

This was a bird I was kind of worried about this year. They're not singing this time of year. And they leave for the summer - basically no sightings of Hermit Thrushes in those summer months when I'd normally get to hear them singing on a high elevation hike. So there's just not enough elevation in Pacific, or mayhaps they're just hanging around in parts of the Willapas that are behind one of the many gates set up by logging companies.

Back to the car, and I got the biggest surprise of the day. I was driving slowly along the road, when I saw a medium-sized shape lumbering down the road. 

Porcupine!!

I have seen a single porcupine prior to this in life, but that was very brief as one shuffled around a corner out of sight. This time I got to watch it a bit more.

Back down the peninsula

First stop - Oysterville. I found some videos online that talked about the maintenance of this little town as a historic landmark. From the sounds of it, some of the conversations around new construction were quite contentious! I drove slowly down the block and pulled in to take a look at the church. 

Built in 1892, it would seem, as a Baptist Church, although it shifted to non-denominational, and has not actually been used for regular services for nearly a century. It is now available for people to just walk on in and take a look around. It was neat to wander the rooms, peek in closets, etc. It's beautiful and well kept! It's also, incidentally, available for rental - for weddings and other ceremonies. 

I looked over some of the other buildings in town, then drove past the central part of the little historic district. On my left, there was a nice place to stop and look over some shorebirds, including some Killdeer, Greater Yellowlegs, and Wilson's Snipe, along with a mix of puddle ducks. 

Wilson's Snipe

I'd passed a few little towns on the way down. Now I got to see some of them in daylight. Nahcotta was the next stop. Great spot! I had hopes for some rockpipers (turnstones and whatnot), but it was just a lot of Killdeer. The gull variety was pretty good - certainly quite a few to look through, and I got my first Herring Gull (102). 

Ocean View Beach Access

I... I don't know what exactly I was looking for here, but there was no shortage of birds. So many gulls. So many shorebirds. And at some point, I'm going to be way more dialed in. Maybe I was just hoping for a simple Iceland Gull? 

No new birds at this spot, but there were a couple of thoughts on the birds I had. First of all, a very dark Western Gull was something I took a lot of pictures of. Definitely will look those dark backed gulls over for Slaty-backed, Lesser Black-backed, etc. 

I also had probably 1000 Dunlin. I had forgotten the importance of checking these over for Rock Sandpipers. Habitat aside, the fact is that they can blend in fairly well with a large flock of Dunlin. 

I also had a plover that I couldn't get good lighting on... the thing that got me, was simply that it was solo. So... probably Black-bellied Plover, the most common large plover in the county. But I'll be giving all of these birds the once over! Without peeking at a guide, I can't say whether American Golden-Plover, Pacific Golden Plover, or other rarities would look bigger, smaller, thicker-billed... so this is good homework!

And finally, I had the shorebirds and gulls take flight. It was a Bald Eagle this time, but one of the next most common outcomes of a quick search of the sky would be a Peregrine Falcon. If I understand correctly, bird flu has affected their populations pretty hard, so I need to really be on the lookout. 

Eagle at bottom right

Hm

I was very HM, so I stopped in at the Sandbar. Friends... for about $20, I got a bowl of soup, two oyster shooters, and a shot of whiskey that was normally $35, but reduced for happy hour. But I was *really* here to check on eBird just to get some ideas. I'd planned on just taking every bird that Leadbetter would give me, but had not really planned for it to be quite so stingy. '

In the end, I thought that Beard's Hollow would be the correct play. I might have more chances at some gulls, and there is a rocky area that sometimes hosts birds I'm missing (turnstones, oystercatchers, rock sandpiper). I took Idaho Avenue all the way out of town, driving slowly in hopes of catching a California Scrub Jay. 

Bingo! California Scrub-Jay (103)

Then it was off for Beard's Hollow! This was a new spot for me. Tucked into the North end of Cape Disappointment State Park, it has a parking area that offers a trail that is a lovely mix of dense forest, swamp, and cliffs. I'd seen numerous passerines mentioned in reports here, so I tooted for Northern Pygmy Owl, and listened for Brown Creeper. 

The trail finally opened up to the beach, and I was greeted by a sight that didn't completely surprise me - a beach full of clam-diggers! People walked the beach with long metal tubes, some with dogs in tow, some walking backwards. Every now and then, someone would excitedly drop the tube into the sand, working from there to try to get a razor clam out of the deal. 

Some of them certainly had some success, and one woman obliged my "One for the blog?" request. I was kind of surprised to find a crab on the beach as well - upside down, still alive, but barely responsive. I don't know why, but I just expect there to be far more live crabs clacking around on the beach!

I got to the rocky area and found no bird activity of interest. I sighed and looked around. What a waste of a trip, yeah? ;)

Certain that I was unlikely to find anything else at the beach, I started back up the trail to the car. Whistling again for Northern Pygmy-Owl, I got a response! (104). They're a code 3 bird in the county. Not an easy find, but not a rarity per se. I chalked this up as a success!

Back in my car, I circled up to a viewpoint I had seen before, and I got some lovely pictures of the setting sun. 

In fact, the entire drive home was kind of a series of pulling over, shooting the sun again, and again. I thought that there was live music in Raymond, so I stopped in to get some dinner at the Pitchwood. I was wrong! No music that night, but I checked in about their offerings. I did grab some dinner - pan-fried oysters! I was certainly going to be well-fortified with whatever vitamins oysters offer. (Zinc, B12, Copper, and Selenium, it turns out)

Interesting end to the evening, conversationally. The bartender was talking with a friend about how to separate Laotian last names from Cambodian ones, citing the length of the names as a tip off. Laotian names typically being much longer names, and Cambodian much shorter. It got a lively discussion going on about the uses of the words "Asian" and "Oriental". An older couple jumped in to point out that it was just. so. hard. to keep up with what was okay to say or not okay to say. "And India is part of Asia... what are we supposed to call them??" with hands in the air, exasperated. 

1. Ask 2. Be genuinely interested in people 3. Work to understand context. 

I don't know that I put all of those ideas together at the time, but . . . I mean, it wasn't a bad conversation. It's part of why I do these trips. I'm comfortable enough in bars, and I get to interact with a lot of different people in them when I'm hosting a trivia night or karaoke. A lot of the "othering" we do comes from not being around enough different people, and I figure being around people from smaller towns are just as easy to other as anyone else. I fixed nothing. And who am I to say what needs fixing? 

I'm still tossing all of this around in my head. 

Birds! 104 was the year list total for Pacific County as I crossed the line back into Grays Harbor, Thurston, Pierce, King, and home. 

January 14th - Totally not Chasing Birds

Yeah, I'll freely admit that I TOO can do math. And I looked at January 6th (my last day down), and January 14th. And goodness, that's a small number of days in between! 

Snowy Owl sightings
from over the years
at Leadbetter State Park, 
Long Beach Peninsula

Balance is at the heart of the years that I do. I'm going to stand by that. . . but I'm going to be taking advantage of opportunities as well. This trip was a combination of a few things. Writing projects were a few days from ramping up, the weather was supposed to be delightful, I've got some less mobile weeks coming up, and. . . 

To be chasing birds requires birds... in a place... that you go to. I was only chasing hunches. In a Facebook group, someone posted a picture of a Snowy Owl with no location. I think it was stipulated that it was from the coast, but no other information was given. I thought this over... where could a Snowy Owl hide from birders? What's a place where a Snowy Owl would love to be, but also a place that gets very little traffic? My answer was Leadbetter Point.

What a magical destination! Drive out to the southern-most point on the Washington Coast - Ilwaco and Long Beach - and only from there can you turn north up this long narrow peninsula. 28 miles long. 1.5 miles narrow (on average). Driving will take you to the parking lot on the bay side, a hike up the bay side takes you to a trail that lets you walk to the ocean side, and a hike along the ocean, up and around the tip, brings you to some of the richest, most unexplored birding areas in the state. I'd never been, and the weather was telling me I should make my first run! Chasing weather on a bird hunch. That's my stand.

Out the door

I did some cooking in the morning - making up some chicken flautas that would be my lunches. I had another clean round of packing; This was especially impressive because I was essentially packing for a hike that would take over half a day, including a spotting scope and camera supplies. 

I came into Pacific, not over Highway 6 as I did on my first trip of the year, but over Highway 101. It's a long haul to Ilwaco - 3 hours! So, I had cautioned myself to keep the dilly out of my dally. But the highway had a few clearcuts that grabbed my attention. I stopped at one. 

"I love clearcuts"? Is that what I'm claiming? I always hesitate, because they are at least cosmetically and also ecologically unattractive. But are they all bad? I also hesitate there. What trees are coming down? How many? How would they otherwise have obtained those trees? 

Selective thinning is a practice that could probably be done in larger areas for the same number of trees, escaping the notice of many drivers-by. But that is a disruption to a much larger area. Compacting soil and removing some understory over much wider swaths of land. And in a larger forest, it doesn't always *add* to species diversity to selectively thin. A clearcut leaves behind habitat that is used by wrens (especially house), bluebirds, woodpeckers, raptors, and some warblers (especially MacGillivray's and Orange Crowned) that would otherwise not do well with deeply forested habitat. 

Any loss of habitat is a hard thing, but I've just come across too many interesting species along the way that are thriving in clearcuts, so I've found some beauty in them. 

On this run, on a late clear morning in mid-January? Nothing, really! I got a couple Pacific Wrens, a couple of Song Sparrows, and not much else! Traffic noise was a little problem, and at one point when I thought I heard a harsh call from a Hermit Thrush, I was unable to confirm it. 

Potter's Slough

The river is visible distantly on the far edge of this huge field. 
On my last trip, the parking spaces were dry islands in the middle of water.

Yowzer. Getting to see this at nearly low tide rather than at a +11 tide was interesting. The entire right half of the road had simply been the Willapa River on my first trip. This time, it was a wide-open field. A Rough-legged Hawk had been seen in this area recently, so I did my due-diligence, inspecting all of the fenceposts and other low perches across the field. While I didn't find one, I did find some ducks in the ponds forest-side of the highway. This is where I picked up my first new species for the trip, Ring-necked Ducks (90, a number I'll keep tallying parenthetically). 

All the other sloughs... and rivers...

Almost always some beautiful water outside my window as I took 101 south. It took me over rivers and sloughs. It took me past Long Island Passage - a splash of water that separates Long Island from the mainland. I have dreams of making the paddle across later in the year, hitting another little-explored area in this county. 

Cape Disappointment - North Jetty

This was one of the first places that I really didn't get to bird on my previous trip. I had gotten up to the lighthouse, but when I came down to North Jetty, it seemed too windy and wet to warrant a walk on the jetty itself. This time I was met with clear weather and calm skies. On the way in, I stopped for some Bushtits (91) at the entrance, working the many deciduous trees. I parked, and spotted some ducks on the Jetty pond, some Mallards, Buffleheads, and numerous Green-winged Teal. 

Then my first. . . give me a break, it was my first, trip up the jetty began. I climbed up the rocks, and there wasn't anyone to tell me that there was a path at the top. I just got part of the way up and peered out at the birds below. Cormorants flew by... but mostly Pelagic, with one Double-crested. I was short a Brandt's Cormorant for the year and couldn't seem to pick any out. Close looks at a loon did give me another species for the year - Pacific Loon! (92)

Clambering back down, I looked along the jetty and thought it would make sense to walk further down it, hoping to maybe catch some rocky shorebirds playing on the land side of the rocks. This is how I eventually found out that the jetty had a path on top! I walked up and started hiking towards the end. 

I'm curious now about exactly how far it is to the end of that jetty. I pushed on for a bit, but I definitely got to a point where it seemed unlikely that I was going to get any new birds - just wet. I stopped short of the end (the path was also getting rougher) and watched the waves crash into the jetty and into each other. 

On my return, I hopped down from the jetty and explored the beach, where a big pile of gulls was congregating. Most of the gulls were Short-billed Gulls (93), with a small number of Glaucous-winged and Western Gulls, and quite a few more that looked like hybrids of the two. Then I caught a bird with a sizable smudge on its face. Black-legged Kittiwake (94)! 

Beach, with many-a-gull, and North Head Lighthouse in the distance. 

It's just a code 2 bird, so by code it's not all that unexpected. By frequency of sightings on eBird, it's sitting at 168th, only 6 code 2 birds are seen less frequently. I wanted to get closer to get sharper images, and of course the bird stood (showing off the black legs) and flew to parts unknown.

Cape Disappointment Light in the other direction

Interesting! Glad I got the shot and asked the googles.

Northward

I was happy to still have some sunlight, so I looked over my list of possible stops. In the end, I chose to visit a spot in Long Beach where there were, at the very least, some hummingbird feeders, so that I could try for Anna's. The spot did not disappoint! There were a few Anna's Hummingbirds (95) in the neighborhood, some visiting feeders, and one going into a big J-dive. I also picked up another species that will become much easier in the months to come - White-crowned Sparrow (96). 

Interesting... I thought I caught a flash of white throat patch on one of them, so I spent some time getting pics and inspecting them more closely. Some of these included birds that just would not face towards me, making the throat details invisible. Now... the facial patterning is also a help, but what I didn't realize at the time (but realized after giving my photos and field guides a closer look) was that White-throated Sparrows have a gray, never yellow/orange, bill. 

My attention had just always been elsewhere, so it was kind of nice that most of the elsewheres were hidden in the photos. 

Continuing north on Sandridge Road, I came across some Mourning Doves (97). 

Heavily altered just to be able to see any details on these backlit/dimly lit doves

These make for an interesting comparison with the Kittiwakes I mentioned above. Mourning Doves are a code 3 bird but are seen more frequently than Black-legged Kittiwakes, a code 2 bird. They're very similar in frequency! So, it's not like... a glaring error in coding. But it is just a good example of why I use the codes as a start, then eBird to dig a little deeper. 

I continued to 227th. What an amazing little road! There were several points along this road where one could stop and view ponds. At one of the first ones, I thought I had a Gadwall. At a later stop, I *knew* I had a Gadwall (98). My third code 3 bird for the evening. (Anna's Hummingbird - 50th most commonly seen species in the county year-round; Gadwall - 145; Mourning Dove - 156).

Dinner

I stopped in at the Cove - a restaurant tied to a golf course. I stared at my options and was of course surprised that there were no oyster shooters available, although they did advertise that their clam chowder had won first prize at a recent Razor Clam Festival. I swear, every restaurant, and likely every laundromat, every vacation home rental agency. . . seemed to have the best chowder in town. 

I veered off course, however, from my try-every-chowder plans. There was a sandwich calling my name - a Reuben.

Was it a Reuben? It was pastrami snuck in there, rather than corned beef, so I know some purists would be vehemently opposed. But... there was sauerkraut, not slaw, so it wasn't quite a Rachel. Why should this matter? My fellow listers will understand as soon as I add the distinction - this would be a lifer. 

And just as we can't leave well enough alone and simply enjoy a warbler with beautiful combinations of different streaks and washes borrowed from Townsend's and Hermit Warbler parents, I can't "count" this as a lifer sandwich. Hybridization. But it really was a tasty sandwich. Interesting - I barely noticed any of the individual ingredients. It wasn't dripping with thousand island dressing, it wasn't a big gooey mess of Swiss. But all of it worked together. Good sammy. Would recommend. 

And there are recommendations out there about not trusting a skinny chef... the kitchen was open, and I could see everything getting tossed around by a mountain of a man at the flat top. It engendered trust. 

The conversation wasn't bad either. The night was just slow enough for conversations to happen between two of the staff. I got mixed into the conversation and got to hear a little of the local gossip, local concerns. It's part of why I do these trips - to see the things that are common across the state - to see the things that affect specific parts more than others. It's not a bad bit of amateur sociology. 

I wrapped up dinner and started back towards Ilwaco where I had a room waiting. One stop at Black Lake, trying for Barred Owls - nada limonada, as they say. I figured the drive back up the peninsula the next morning might give me some more good chances to try for Barred, Northern Pygmy- and Western Screech-Owls.

98? 98! Quite a few species picked up for the day, with promises of pleasant skies the next day.