I’m on a roll!

I started the day at Sweetwater Wetlands and had a fine time with the camera.

From there I headed to Pinal Air Park to look for Burrowing Owls. I wasn’t disappointed either, with two splendid little birds by the side of a dirt road to the east of the old pecan grove.

I was on the way to pick a friend up from Phoenix Sky Harbor airport, so I continued north. I planned to tour the Santa Cruz Flats and took my usual route, but was instantly flumuxed at Red Rock by the building of an entire town since I last went this way. Confused, I got back onto I-10 and continued to the Sunshine Boulevard exit. A couple of miles after turning I passed a wet field, and out of the corner of my eye noticed a few birds, shorebirds it seemed, so I turned the car round and went back for a look.

There were several Greater Yellowlegs and I began to count them as I scanned the field: five, six, seven, eight… oh… a Ruff! I immediately experienced mixed emotions – I knew Ruff was an extremely rare bird in Arizona, but at the same time it was a bird I was totally familiar with, having seen thousands of them in the UK. I got the scope out and made absolutely sure, then got some record shots and phoned the news in to the Tucson Audubon Rare Bird Alert hotline.

By now it was 4pm so I didn’t have much time to explore the flats. I decided to leave the Ruff – I’d given good directions – and see what else I could see. A couple of miles south on Sunshine Boulevard there was a Prairie Falcon on a roadside pole, and then an impressive Ferruginous Hawk on the next pole. I saw another Prairie Falcon as I toured the flats at breakneck speed, hoping for Crested Caracara or Mountain Plover but finding none, but soon decided I should go back to see if the Ruff was still there.

It was, so I spent more time scanning this field, which revealed at least 18 Greater Yellowlegs and a few Killdeer, Least Sandpipers and American Pipits. And one Ruff. I left at dusk and collected my friend from the airport. At dawn the next day a group of birders gathered at the scene but the Ruff, and most of the other shorebirds, had moved on overnight and were never seen again. If accepted it will be the 9th Ruff for Arizona and only the 3rd in SE Arizona.

I’ve been in Arizona for seven years without exactly setting the place ablaze with my rare bird finding exploits. I’ve chanced upon a few notables, but nothing to really get people racing to the scene. That finally changed on Saturday…

I was looking for a Rusty Blackbird, itself a very rare bird here, found by Mark Stevenson along Woodland Road in Tucson, a community of ranch-style properties with horse paddocks, pecan groves and lots of nice green fields. Unfortunately I wasn’t having much luck with the blackbird flock, which refused to cooperate by resolutely staying up in the trees, away from the road and silhouetted against the sun. Just after 4:00pm I turned my attention to a small pecan grove. A flock had formed in a couple of pine trees across the road, Chipping Sparrows mainly, a couple of Ruby-crowned Kinglets and… something else – a warbler – what was that?

As I raised my binoculars my brain had already made a suggestion – greeny-yellow around the head, faint chestnut streaks down the flanks – Chestnut-sided Warbler. Splendid, a state bird for me (I really must get to Sweetwater). But as soon as I focused the binoculars, I knew something was wrong. In fact, everything was wrong – size, shape, head pattern – this was something different. I ran the short distance back to the car and grabbed my camera, my mind making another uncomfortable leap to the only other bird that could show flanks like that, surely - Bay-breasted Warbler. But that’s both very rare and often very difficult to identify. Uh-oh…

I relocated the bird in the pine tree and got a couple of out of focus shots before it flew across the road, calling, and perched right near the top of a pecan tree. Very strangely for a warbler, it barely moved for about three minutes. I was firing off shots, which, seeing as it barely moved, all look the same. It then flew off into the pecan grove and I never saw it again.

What to do? I found a couple of birders also looking for the blackbird, and flagged down a few more driving by. We all looked at the photos, scoured various books, scratched our heads and tried to find it again, without success. The other birders drifted away and found the blackbird. It had been flushed by a Merlin by the time I arrived, but I was more interested in getting home and looking at my warbler photos.

Once I had the photos on the screen, the ID looked solid so I contacted a few other birders for opinions. Rich Hoyer agreed that it was a Bay-breasted and that was good enough for me – I put the news out. I was still nervous that I’d made a horrible mistake, but as luck would have it, the warbler was seen in the same area by quite a lot of people on Sunday and Monday, all (presumably) agreeing it was a Bay-breasted Warbler, about the 16th record for Arizona, 9th for SE Arizona and a state bird for almost everyone.

It was nothing more than dumb luck, but finally I’ve found something worth looking at

A quick dash for a new AZ bird paid off, for once, this afternoon. I’ve looked for migrant warblers in Fort Lowell Park on several previous occasions, always coming up empty. News of a Magnolia Warbler in the usual avenue of cottonwood trees got me out of the office and, amazingly, after a fruitless half hour search I was headed back for the car when it appeared in the low branches in front of me. It was feeding very actively, so may be a fresh arrival. This made it somewhat difficult to photograph, but one or two of my lame attempts were at least identifiable.

Tucson’s parks are often very productive birding hotspots. Last week I caught up with my first Red-breasted Sapsucker in McCormick Park, the same park that hosted a fabulous male Williamson’s Sapsucker last winter. What next?

We only really had time to take a leisurely drive through Yosemite with a few photo stops before we had to be on our way. I wanted to go back to Olmsted Point in the early morning light, and it didn’t disappoint.

I’d asked Bruce about the possibility of seeing bears. Yosemite is obviously a good place to see them, but your chances are much improved by hiking away from the roads, he said, and there wasn’t time for that so I was resigned to not seeing bears. I never do see bears, so I’m used to it.

And then it happened. A couple of people at the side of the road were clearly watching something of interest, so we slowed the car and… yes! A Black Bear! I had packed the big lens away the previous day, right at the bottom of the bag of course. Needless to say, everything – binoculars, laptop, clothes – was dumped out in half a second and after the quickest lens change in history I leaped out of the car.

There were two bears! No, three! Unbelievable! Right in front of us, a mother and two cubs were going about their business seemingly oblivious to the clicking shutters from the small crowd that was forming.

Typically, I was only able to shoot directly into the light, so the photos are not brilliant, but I wasn’t going to attempt to outmanoeuvre three bears. I can’t remember for certain, but I think the top half of the sign in the photo below read “Pissing off bears…”

Surely it doesn’t get much better than that. It had been an amazing trip but this really was the icing on the cake. I’ve wanted to see bears in the wild for years and had come so close several times in Arizona. I found bear poo early one morning in Madera Canyon that was still gently steaming – I’m sure the bear could see me, but try as I might, I never did see it. Well, this time, I probably used up my whole life’s supply of bear viewing luck in one sitting.

And what a way to end the trip. A few hours later I was on the flight home with a big, stupid grin on my face and a matching hole in my wallet, but it was worth every penny.

Thanks, as always, to my friends Bruce and Brenda Barrett for their customary warm hospitality. If not before, I’ll see you both for my next Yosemite trip in June. You were right - I’m hooked

Everyone I talked to before the trip said the same thing on discovering where I wanted to go – you’ll LOVE Yosemite! And what wise friends I have – they were not wrong.

Bruce, Brenda and I set off early, crossed the Central Valley and arrived at the Yosemite gates around midday. Our first destination on this whistle-stop tour was the Tuolumne Sequoia Grove. I’d seen the tallest trees in the world; here were the biggest. You won’t be surprised to learn that they’re bloody massive!

I decided I was going to be too busy for wildlife photos, and I didn’t even take my binoculars when walking to the grove. Big mistake – thankfully Bruce had his and I was able to get great views of a new bird for me, a fine pair of White-headed Woodpeckers.

Our next destination was Yosemite Valley… not much I can say, other than: wow!

We got stuck in traffic at some roadworks, so Bruce said I should check the adjacent Merced River for American Dipper. It seemed like a bit of a long shot, especially as there was someone actually in the river at that point, but it was a good photo opportunity so off I went… and immediately found a dipper right in front of me! Another new bird for me.

From the valley we headed back up and over to Olmsted Point. Wow again!

We continued, my camera clicking away like crazy, and eventually came out at Mono Lake.

It had been an overwhelmingly impressive day. We booked into a motel at Lee Vining, had dinner and got an early night. We didn’t have too long in the morning before I had to head to San Jose airport, so we made plans for an early start – could there be one final twist on the last morning?