Huzzah, VISTORS!

 

Nancy & Rick on Hurricane Ridge

Since before I even left Sacramento, family, friends and I had already begun to look forward to visiting me in Washington state. The first of my friends to visit me happened this week when Rick & Nancy, friends of mine for decades, popped by. They were on the return end of a sojourn north to Coeur d'Alene Idaho to visit family, and were headed back to California. The excitement of seeing my Sacto friends & the thrill of getting my recently furbished guest room occupied at last.  

Side note here, I having just arrived home from my trip to Utqiaġvik, was shocked to find whil

Rick walking Lady Chori

e I was away, Barbara (my next door neighbor and friend) was in the hospital! She came down with severe gastrointestinal problems, called an ambulance and ended up hospitalized in Seattle. She survived the ordeal and I picked her up, bringing her home. While she was gone, her poor pets were bereft of their 'Mom'. Rick volunteered to take Chori out walking. Good dog! Good dog-step-daddy!

Rick and Nancy spent one day out hiking and sight seeing on their own. One day I drove them up to one of my fav spots, up the long road to Hurricane Ridge. The ridge is a wonderful place to enjoy the majesty that is the Olympic Mountain Range. Photos were taken in abundance and we bought and enjoyed lunch on the vista view at the Visitor Center. 

The Olympics, which do not include gymnastics, fencing or equestrian events

Myself, I go up there frequently in my ever futile search for the Brown-crowned Rosy-Finch. Alas! No Rosy-Finches, but many Mule Deer up and down the mountainside plus one surprise. 

View from Hurricane Ridge Visitor Center, down hill to where an adorable polka dot grazed in the grass. 

The polka dot is a Black Bear. 

Following lunch, we drove to a popular mountainside hiking area. There, Rick & Nancy enjoyed a walk, but it ended early due to some typical, two-faced mountain weather - changeable on a dime - it began to rain. 

Me, I skipped the hike (no surprises there), preferring instead to exploring the local flora. Shown here are Avalanche Lilies, that had popped up along the roadway. 

Avalanche Lilies

It was wonderful having my buds visit. As in days of yore, we enjoyed group prep of food and surprising each other with various dishes, most notably breakfasts and dinners. Rick made a tasty chicken enchilada dish which I suspect will be duplicated on Flown Piggies Farm in future. Was totally bummed to see them drive off into the sunset, so to speak, but I'll see them again, and there will be others, Covid willing. 

Goodbye Utqiaġvik

Gorillas  Long-tailed Ducks in the mist

Today was my last in Utqiaġvik. This afternoon we'll all fly down to Anchorage, then tonight several of us will stay there and will fly home the following morning. Meanwhile, this is my last chance to enjoy being Claire of the Arctic© , see more wildlife and perhaps even a Wagtail that might have flown in overnight. 

One of the first places we hit however wasn't a pond full of birds. We returned to the Inupiat Cultural Center. George, and myself, wanted to buy hand carved figurines from James, one of the local Inupiat artisans there. 

Massive room at the center where art happens

Artist James on the left, Richard and George

This was our last visit with James to pay him deposits and finalize what he was going to make and then ship. I commissioned a King, Steller's and Spectacled Eiders, to celebrate my lifers. 

When we were done I got a photo of the Snowy Owl that James cared from a vertebrate bone and uses as a hood ornament on artist James' truck. 
                  

Being our last day in Utqiaġvik, after our visit to the art center we raced out to see if there were any birdies we missed. 

Pair of Sandhill Cranes

Spectacled Eider behind a Greater 
White-fronted Goose

The last viewing of a bright, crayon-headed King Eider

At last we gave up the birding to race back to the King Eider Inn, to grab our luggage and head to the airport.

The 'Gang of Birders' in the airport, 
 chatting while waiting for our jet to arrive

The last view of the Airport 

For no good reason here is nearly 3 minutes of driving around town in Utqiaġvik. This town, full of 1st Nation Inupiats and various business interests from the lower 48 has a harsh environment. Weather here is too gawdawful for primping of landscaping with flowers or even the most modest vegetable garden. People who fuss about the culling of the area's wildlife for food by the Inupiats are are clueless. It is impossible to grow enough veggies here to keep body and soul together. Add to that, the price of veggies at the local grocery store isn't for the weak of heart or wallet. All the veggies (among a zillion other necessities) must be flown, or barge shipped in. So a video bonus here is listening to Rich telling us about his wife's reaction to grocery shopping when they were in Nome, another off the beaten path area of Alaska.  Ask yourself, how much you might be willing to pay for a tin of cocktail fruit to brighten up your meal. 

Ukpiaġvik and Beyond

 

Today we started birding at the edge of town, in the once-upon-a-town, Ukpiaġvik, which is Inupiat for 'the place where we hunt Snowy Owls'. Just today, on this spot today Snowy Owls were absent, unless counting the giant beauty on the huge sign above. The ancient village site is next to the ocean and we crossed a wooden boardwalk, out over to bluffs to to look out over the iced-over, therefore, unviewable sea. 

Long ago, the prehistoric village was dotted with homes of thick earth walls, set into the ground. They looked like yurts (bottom center-ish on the photo above) with elongated entryways. The homes had low entrances to help keep cold air at bay. The people there heated their homes with whale oil, and yes, those brave hunters back then hunted the gigantic bowhead whales, and their descendants today continue to do so. 

The wooden boardwalk

At the bluffs, but looking back towards the town

                    

There were not a lot of birds present today, but there were some flitting about.

White-rumped Sandpiper, pecking around for insects

   Lapland Longspur in similar pursuit.

The view from the bluffs almost confusing. I mean, you can see plenty of snow, but where is the ocean exactly? It's under the massive stretches of slowly melting snow.

Where is the ocean exactly?

Close up of a newly melting spot of snow bound ocean by the shore. 

Next we drove off to the hinterlands. Richard driving carefully along while the other 4 of us had our eyes peeled for whatever 'cool' birds we could spot. 

Pectoral Sandpiper, named for its breast striping

skittering Amercan Golden-Plover

Molting American Golden Plover

One Plover was molting, and showed an interesting and artistic pattern on its face. 

Montezuma Quail

We all thought it might really be a Montezuma Quail, though we are a tad north of the quail's New Mexico habitat. 

Richard told us on his every spring visit to Ukpiaġvik, a different bird species is the most numerous. One year sepia tinted Long-tailed ducks might be sparse, the next year they might be everywhere, every time you turn around. 

Lovely male (rear) and female (in front), Long-tailed ducks

This year's super numerous species is Red Phalarope, many circling like tops in every puddle. Next year? Ostriches? Uh... maybe not. 

Sally spotted something different - a Ruddy Turnstone, racing about down from another bluff we drove along. The turnstone - assuming it was a turnstone - then promptly vanished, causing Sally to suspect she'd hallucinated (as we all assume when stupid birds are here one second and gone the next. Luckily, by a miracle the bird raced in front of my camera's viewfinder, so I got shots.  Shortly thereafter, several Ruddys popped up, and we were delighted to add a new species to our trip list. 

Ruddy Turnstone, which is also not a Montezuma Quail

(not my photo)

After assuring ourselves we'd located & recorded every single feathered neighbor of the Ruddy Turnstone, loons, gulls, ducks and all, we drove over to a mining area with an enormous mini-lake. There we spotted a lovely flotilla of yesterday's lifer Stellar Eiders. The females are rather drab brown, but the males have a wonderful lime icee pompom on the backs of their noggins. 

Flotilla of Steller's

But today's goal is to find our final 'lifer' Eider,  We drove along a road where an 'informant' (not CIA,  a trip leader in a van) told us we should find our target bird. The road was a semi-dreadful Ukpiaġvik  road, and Rich told us to hold onto our seats as he sped through an obstacle course of puddles. Uh... no. The mini-van we were in didn't have 4 wheel drive, this being Ukpiaġvik, not Palm Springs. I was already sitting quietly in the car, telling myself a beautiful lie, that life would go on as normal if I didn't get to see a Spectacled Eider on this trip. Woe is me, right? Just then, Rich stopped, calling there was a duck or something on the road up ahead. HOLY MOSES PACKING A SIBLEY GUIDE!

Lifer Spectacled Eider stopping to stare at us mid road crossing!

The incredible, marmalade-billed, lime green with a blot of vanilla sherbet headed eider, was waddling north on the road, headed for a little pond. Behind him, in quite a hurry, raced Mrs. Spectacled Eider. 

The Mrs. was cryptically feathered, difficult to see against the dried grasses.

Both finally arrived at the little pond right around the time we were all done high-fiving and trying not to shout with birder's 'GOT THE LIFER!'  relief. 

Having a swim in their private ice pond

Huzzah! It's wonderful getting to see all three of the Eiders I hoped to see. Such bizarre birds in their feathering. Look at that drake below. Doesn't he look like he got a bit plastered, then fell asleep at a frat party? The next day, waking to the sound of his buddies laughing, the poor sod must have peered down into the water, and saw THAT face, someone must have stenciled on him with a Sharpie.

"If I ever catch the bozo that did this to me..."

Utqiaġvik is all about the birds

Still Sunday. When our tour group finished its breakfast back at the Inn, we headed out to squeeze in some late-in-the-day birding around Utqiaġvik. One of our first stops was a cool little yard that served to feed the local birdies. There, photo shy Common Redpoll and photogenic male Snow Buntings were present. 

 

Someone's front side yard, for the birds

Your town have House Sparrows? 

Utqiaġvik has Snow Buntings in lieu thereof

Buntings are also cute from rear

Birders know that cemeteries, where-ever, are a great place to see birds. The Utqiaġvik cemetery is fascinating covered under in snow and ice, but birds... not so much. 

Both beautiful & spooky

All over Utqiaġvik caribou pelts, caribou skulls and antlers are evident. They seem to be a large part of local diets.  Bet their steaks are tasty as hell.

Tundra Swans... miss seeing these beauts winters in California's Central Valley

Beautiful Black-bellied Plover in its fancy 'Sunday-go-to-meeting' feathers

Pectoral Sandpiper

The high arctic is where all the swans, geese, ducks and shorebirds come to breed. So the big treat is seeing the birds in their best plumage. 

Long-billed Dowitcher

Greater White-fronted Geese

Red Phalarope

The Red Phalarope were everywhere! If there was a puddle - and there were thousands - there were Phalarope spinning in the puddles like tops. They spin to stir up their food in the murky water. 

American Golden-Plover

Then off in the distance, George spotted some ducks and there they were... Eiders! And it was the species that was the least expected to pop up so easily - Steller's Eiders. Lifers on the house, er in the puddle!

Male Stellar's Eider 

For this trip a new camera was bought, an updated version of my Panasonic Lumix. It was purchased a couple of months in advance of this trip, but still I really didn't get a whole lot of practice in. So due to my ignorance - or maybe I can blame the camera a bit - lots of my photos were not in total focus. Plus the new camera has extreme telephoto lens. I can shoot with optical power up to 1200 mm, and with digital up to heaven-only-knows. Optical means the camera is actually shooting true through glass, while digital means the camera 'fudges', i.e., fills in some of the photo The photo above was shot at the equivalent of  2640mm which means the bird was crazy far off. With a bit of luck maybe I'll get a chance of a closer shot before the trip ends, fingers crossed. 

Nevertheless, that's one of my target birds seen, and 2 or maybe 3 to go. 

Mr & Ms Steller's Eider