The previous night had been another early-to-bed-and-rise situation. I'd spent the entire day out driving, hiking, and peering through optics at birds. And it had been gorgeous. Sure, there were some sprinkles at different times, as well as threats of more, with gray clouds passing overhead occasionally. But all in all, Jan 5 was a nearly immaculate day. I was sitting at 83 species for the year, and 77 of those had been seen between 2 AM and 5 PM.
This day, however, was not shaping up to be a "good" weather day.
"Good"? Well, for some people, there's nothing better than a gusty day at the beach, with big waves pounding the shore and torrents of rain falling all around. I'd assume it's a pretty strong split between people who love these days, and people who "are smart enough to get out of the rain" as the expression goes. There's nothing about 30 mile an hour gusts that would lead to neutral responses.
Which side do I take?? I feel like context shapes my response to these days. Being out on a day with steady rain and so much wind while trying to see birds? There may be some disappointment mixed in here, but all in all, it just kind of tickles my funny bone. I'm not a Pacific County resident who can just stay inside instead of birding. I'm not someone running down for a single day of good weather. I'm usually coming down to make a few days of it, so there was really no choice, but to step out into the lousy weather and make the most of it.
I started the day with a McDonald's stop. I really want to support local businesses as much as possible, but they were open at 5, and I knew what I'd be getting!
The Plan
Rain smashing my windshield, I pulled my McHashbrown out of its little cardboard sleeve, and asked myself precisely this, "What's your plan here, Buddy?" There were a few hours of dark remaining. I mean. . . I could go owling, but this was not the weather for it. So, until the weather decided to give me any sort of break, it was just going to be driving south from Raymond.
If I had gotten any break, I would have looked for a place to try for Barred Owl. A more focused search for Western Screech-Owl habitat would have been fun as well. My focus instead was on staying alive. Visibility was awful, drivers were tailgating me, and there were opportunities aplenty to hydroplane off of the road.
Further and further south on 101. It didn't even sink in that I'd forgotten the name of one of my destinations...Nemah? Nahcotta? Something N... I got to a junction offering me a trip this way to Ilwaco or that way to Astoria. In confusion I pulled off. Naselle!
That little stretch around Naselle has had some good owl sightings. It still wasn't looking like the best morning for it, but I had hopes that the hills between Naselle and Chinook might give some kind of shelter from the storm? It really never did. I was all the way down to Fort Columbia by the time I gave up on owling and shut the eyes for a little rest before sunup.
Sunup?
I don't think there ever was a proper "sunup" per se on this blustery day! I figured that, rain or no rain, it wouldn't be hard to pick out a Rough-legged or Red-shouldered Hawk on a tree or fencepost, so I turned into a road that led into the Chinook Valley.
I did find a hawk here! But not the kind I expected. A Sharp-shinned Hawk (species 84 for the year) zipped across the road in front of me. Small head, squared-off tail. Lord, it was nice to have BOTH accipiters found for the year (Cooper's Hawk and Sharp-shinned Hawk... I guess American Goshawk is still a pie-in-the-sky dream). They really aren't ones that you can look for in the same way you do with so many other species. Just one bird, but it felt like progress... felt like... not driving around aimlessly in October looking for a Sharpie!
And the Chinook River... goodness. This is probably the part of the drive that most drove me bazonkers in regard to the Buffleheads.
Not a lot of places to pull over. Not a lot of places with good views of the river. Not a lot of anything besides Buffleheads on this river. But then... I saw a bird that looked different. I pulled over... I walked... I saw a bird flap out of view around the corner. I found another bird, got excited. It was a Bufflehead. I found another bird. It dove. I looked around and didn't see it surface... steady rain coming down on me. I started walking again. It went up farther around the corner.
| Craptastic picture of a Wilson's Snipe > no picture at all! |
| A town I'll need to properly visit in the future |
Fort Canby State Park Cape Disappointment State Park
This confused me for some time, but it turns out that this was just a name change. The park still includes Fort Canby, but the name has changed. It took me a minute to get my bearings. If asked to draw a map of the grounds, even now, I would fail to do so accurately. If asked to point north at any time during my visit, I would have failed to do so accurately. But this is what I remember from the fog.
I did head to the lighthouse trail. The trail itself was not that birdy, but I did have some Golden-crowned Kinglets and Pacific Wrens along the way. I passed a sign letting me know that I could take the side trail to Deadman's Cove. Hey... under better weather conditions, maybe? But I was on a mission to get to the lighthouse.
I made it.
Gusts at the top were higher than anywhere I went that day. At times, I could almost lean in to the wind without falling.
Suddenly, of all things, a Pigeon Guillemot (88) briefly popped into view, diving ... into the cliff below me! Makes sense, I suppose, although all alcids were kind of off of my radar for the moment. Far below in the waves, I was able to pick up only a handful of Surf Scoters enjoying very surfy conditions.
On the other side of the cliff (North? South? it was at least *facing* the jetty) I saw a Pelagic Cormorant (89) fly from the surf to the cliff wall as well, perching in place, half-way up the cliff.
Just a little past King Tides, it was still fun to watch the wind and water working together, continuing their little conversations about "forever" with the rock cliffs below. Thank the lord for fences, because the wind was going to toss me around otherwise.
I peeked back at the lighthouse and got a good chuckle out of the fact that there was someone inside. Safe from the weather, and oblivious to me out on the lawn. I briefly chuckled thinking of this as some breach of etiquette - not coming out with at least a cup of coffee! A gust of wind got me fully laughing, and it was time to be smart enough to get out of the rain.
| Dead Man's Cove from above |
I took the road down to North Jetty. I'd seen it from the lighthouse and had to at least survey the situation. A Birder's Guide to Washington described the birds that could be seen from the jetty. It also described how silly it would be to venture onto the jetty when weather is unpleasant. This counted as unpleasant. One of the park rangers parked in a truck nearby would certainly have agreed. Might have been a great viewpoint for shooting pictures of waves hitting the shore! But I am not sure that any birds would have found shelter on the other side of the rocks.
Back into Ilwaco, and up towards North Beach. I made one stop at Black Lake to get a better view of some Common Mergansers - a bird I'd gotten a diagnostic but unsatisfying look at earlier.
| Dashing out in the rain for documentation. lol why? |
I drove some back roads in Long Beach once I arrived. To be clear... even the back roads aren't all that far back. It's the ocean. . . a mile and a half or so . . . and it's Willapa Bay. This is a long, narrow peninsula - one that I'm looking forward to exploring in the year to come. But today was not going to be very exploration-heavy.
| Uh. . . maybe not accurate, but hey? |
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| at Hungry Harbor - 40 years of collecting Christmas villagey pieces! |
- I generally plan on coming out once a month. Pacific County has me thinking of maybe doing a little bit of chasing. I'm looking at open windows to follow up on an interesting code 4 or 5 bird if it seems chasable.
- If I do make it down for a chase like that... It just seems like the Long Beach Peninsula would be the logical follow up. Feeders in Long Beach, a safe look at North Jetty, gull sorting on the beach, and even a little pond where I might be able to find (heart be still) coots!
- Leadbetter. :) Nobody in their right mind makes trips out to Leadbetter, so I'd really better get out there. Besides, I have hunches.
- Owls.
- And otherwise, it's looking at birds that are LESS difficult right now. Thank goodness it's a shorter list now, to the tune of 89 species. Some make sense - gotta get some hawks, gotta get some gulls, gotta get some sparrows. But Hermit Thrush? Noooooo.... By month, it goes like this (based on eBird - percentage of checklists that include Hermit Thrush sightings.... I think that's the number, but regardless, a higher number is better.) Jan - 6.2% Feb - 3.25% Mar - 1.65% Apr - 1.78% May - 0.23% Jun - nope.. July, August - nope!! The thing is, my preferred way of finding Hermit Thrushes is listening to them sing their full song on some mountain hike in the summer. That isn't happening this year! Just one of the little discoveries eBird is throwing at me. So, this will be a feeder bird, as likely as not.
And where will this take me by year's end? Lots of lovely places. Number-wise, I'd put a shiny nickel down on a number like 215 (the year list record being 220). If I can get out on pelagic trips this year into Pacific County?? Maybe a little farther. But that may be a challenge, with most trips just heading into waters in Grays Harbor County.
We shall see!


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