We hiked up a steep incline to arrive at a beautiful wildflower meadow. The brilliant oranges and reds of Indian Paintbrush contrasted starkly with the bright white Beargrass. We had chosen the Iceberg Lake trail in Glacier National Park because of the enticing description in our birding guide, “Glacier is for the Birds.” From our lofty perch, we scanned the tops of the extensive spruce/fir forest in the valley below us. We could see numerous waterfalls and cliff faces covered in wildflowers on the mountainsides around us. Suddenly, an iridescent caramel colored speck whizzed up the valley. The male Rufous Hummingbird landed at the top of a nearby spruce, giving us fantastic studies of its sparkling gorget and back. We were quickly distracted from our quest to get a photo that really showed the iridescence of the hummingbird by the call of a Dusky Flycatcher coming from further upslope. We soon found the bird perched in the top of a bush, but I listened more than I looked, as Empidomax flycatchers are extremely hard to identify by sight. “Glacier is for the Birds'” predictions were proving amazingly accurate: “As you proceed through the shrubs and until you head back into the trees, listen and watch for Dusky Flycatchers, Orange-crowned Warblers, MacGillivray’s Warblers and Lazuli Buntings,” though we still hadn’t seen any Lazuli Buntings. After more searching of trees and listening for the call, we finally located a male Lazuli Bunting singing in a bush. After the first one, they seemed to be everywhere, and we enjoyed many views of this spectacular bird.
We paused every mile or so and checked the book again, as it provided so much detail we couldn’t remember it all. Next was “Past the Red-rock outcrop, look for Pine Grosbeaks until you are in the trees.” As soon as we had fully rounded the next big projection of Glacier’s famous “red rock,” a male and female Pine Grosbeak flew off the path into the top of a large fir. They stayed there only a few seconds, giving us just enough time to get a decent look, and flew away. That was the only time we saw Pine Grosbeaks on our trip.
My experience in Glacier National Park convinced me that a good bird finding guide is essential for travel, even though I usually rely heavily on eBird for local birding information. EBird is a global citizen science project by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology that gathers birder’s sitings into a massive database, which they make available to the public. I have been eBirding since I started birding, and I can’t imagine birding without it. EBird is a fantastic tool for keeping personal lists, finding target birds, and learning basic information about a location, but you still really need an actual book. Some regions are poorly ebirded, leading to small and useless amount of data. Some regions lack solid internet connection (like Glacier) making it impossible to use. EBird also lacks the level of detailed information about bird finding often found in bird finding guides. For instance, on one hike we did to find Timberline Brewer’s Sparrow, our book told us not only which trail but exactly which switchback to look for the sparrows’ territories.
Finding the Brewer’s Sparrow wasn’t the only time the guide proved so precise it made our jaws drop. One of the few target birds we hadn’t found by the end of the trip was the Evening Grosbeak. The guide recommended a brief hike at Goat Lick for it. We decided to stop there on our last day heading out of the park. That day ended up full of excitement (see previous post) and we felt like we had to skip the Goat Lick hike as we figured we couldn’t afford the time to look for the bird. As we were driving, we saw a crowd gathered on the side of the road. Was it a bear jam, we wondered? Nope, it was goat jam. A family of five Mountain Goats were standing right next to the road!
After a week of being in the park, we had seen many Mountain Goats, but they had all been distant specks way up on ridge tops. Apparently, they come from miles away to Goat Lick to ingest minerals from the rocks like calcium, phosphorus, magnesium, and sodium. The opportunity to photograph these amazing animals was too good to miss. I didn’t even bring my binoculars, not knowing this was also the place mentioned in the book for Evening Grosbeaks. Soon, the goats moved under the bridge and out of sight. As we were about to go, a little yellow and black blob flew up the canyon, chittering wildly, and landed in a spruce near the bridge. It was immediately followed by four more Evening Grosbeaks. They were so close and bright, I didn’t really mind not having my binoculars.
One of the things that made this bird finding guide so accurate was it was super up to date, published only last year. Most of the birds he talked about still occupied the same territories they did last year, although I don’t really know they were the same individuals. But older guides can still be useful. On a trip to Florida last winter, I purchased the ABA/Lane “A Birder’s Guide to Florida,” by Bill Pranty, published in 2005. I was saddened and disappointed several times during our trip when the birds he mentioned were gone and the described habitat looked very degraded or had even disappeared all together. But despite being more than 10 years old, it was still full of great information, detailed directions, the authors personal advice, and great maps in a portable, accessible format. In combination with eBird, it was very helpful in planning and accomplishing our trip.
One time in Miami, I looked on eBird for recent reports of Cave Swallows, a species that I really wanted to see. There were no recent reports, but the bird finding guide had a nearby bridge staked out as a Cave Swallow nesting site. Was it possible, 10 years later, that there could still be swallows under that bridge that hadn’t been reported on eBird? We drove quickly into the growing darkness to find out. Upon arriving, my first impression was of an old, deserted bridge over a filthy canal, surrounded by busy highways. Not a hopeful sight. We searched the canal, under the bridge, and the surrounding area but saw no birds. As we were getting ready to leave, my brother, lagging behind as usual, called from under the bridge that he saw a Cave Swallow. He used his flash to illuminate the dark underside of the bridge once we were ready, and for just a second, I saw a little nest with a Cave Swallow peeping up out of it.