A Night for Whippoorwill-ing

When my birding buddy Don & I were in the south last May, we saw no Whippoorwills, one of our target birds. So when recently I read of a Whippoorwill inexplicably setting up housekeeping in a patch of Forest north of Fair Oaks, we had to go check it out.

So late Saturday afternoon, Don drove in from the Bay Area and by dusk we were walking 400 yards up a narrow, red soiled forest path in what I think was Tahoe National Forest. The trail wasn’t too long and not at all steep, but I whined anyway, you know, to keep in practice.

pink & black ribbons marked the Whippoorwill sweet spot
Then at the summit of the gentle slope, we hit a wide spot on the narrow trail where hung some black and pink plastic ribbon marking the 'sweet spot' from which the calling Whippoorwill could be heard. There was then nothing to do but wait for the bird – that is, if the bird was feeling generous.

So, we stood quietly, feeding the mosquitoes. Watching Mars, a reddish bright spot in the sky. Soon bats with petite wingspans were darting around the trees overhead, eating - we hoped - their weight in mosquitoes. Don pointed out a little glowing green spot in the leaf litter under a tree. Honestly, I was certain it was a bit of litter. Amazingly, under a flashlight we could see it was a remarkable little glow worm, its tiny arse gleaming bright green. I've never seen such a thing before. Don said glow worm are cousin to the fireflies we saw back in Arkansas, but in the California sorts, it is the larvae that glows, not the adult insect.

This looks just like the glow worm Don foundthe pair of white segments at its end glowed green

By the time a few timid stars emerged in the sky, we were tired of standing. Don dropped to the ground, stretching out on the forest litter, to wait. At last the Whippoorwill called from fairly close by. I leaned down to slap a High Five with Don. We had just enjoyed what was a lifer species for both of us. We didn’t speak, waiting to see if the bird would favor us again. Only a few minutes later we heard a crunching sound of someone else marching up the forest trail.

BLLLLAAAAATTTTTT, sounded a large fart, echoing up and down the forested hillside. Small bats fell out of the trees. I won’t embarrass the farter except to say that person’s name rhymed with “Lon”.

“What kind of a greeting is that?” approaching birder asked with a marvelous dash of sarcasm.

That was how Don and I met John Trochet, a devoted and long time birder whose name I recognized having seen it a b’jillion times in on-line birding reports. Soon the three of us were listening to the Whippoorwill calling again. Mostly short calls, and one call that sounded to me like ‘Cuckoo!’. But at least twice the bird sang its more diagnostic ‘Whip Poor Will!’ notes.

The only one who actually saw the Whippoorwill was Don, who saw the bird buzz by overhead. I would have killed to see the bird, but I am cursed by my incredibly faulty sense of direction when I hear sounds. If the sound comes from the east, I am nearly guaranteed to swing around and stare off into the west, so while Don was watching the bird shoot past, I was staring at barren pine trees. Bugger!

Following our outing, Don did a little on-line research and found a bit of news that cheered us both up a bit. The Whippoorwill species is soon bound to be split into not 2, but into 3 entirely different species. Besides the group east of the Mississippi, and the population of the Southwest, there is a third population of birds centered in Costa Rica, a mystical land I visited briefly, long ago and far away.

Whippoorwill

Back Story on EVIL & FOUL Widdle Tick

I was asked me the significance is of the white spot on nasty little tick that Edward Cullen'd me back in Tennessee. The spot is how the tick can be identified a 'Lone Star tick', one of the tick species carrying Lyme Disease.

When I looked up the tick's ID on line, I almost fell over! The little bugger is the same species of little $%&# that sucked my blood back in 1998 when I birded at Aransas National Wildlife Refuge in Texas. So this was a repeat tick for me. That's the actual tick that rode around in my drawers in Arkansas - *shudder*.

Here's a life time's supply of tick info HERE.

The Last Day & It's Big Birdie Rewards

Meeman Shelby Forest trail
It was the last full day of vacation, something I always enjoy and dread at the same time. Bright and early we headed east to Meeman Shelby Forest where we bombed out on finding our target warblers a week earlier. As we walked away from the car and onto the gravely forest trail, it occurred to us, we were not as much birding, as feeding the mosquitoes. As we walked along, I sweated & swatted. It felt like we were traversing a sauna room in hell, complete with miniature harpies. The birds of the forest were happy enough though. Indigo Buntings, Eastern Peewees, Cardinals, Northern Parula warblers and hosts of Robins sang like we had paid admission to hear them.

Sassafras Tree; Don pointed out its leaves have
1, 2 or 3 lobes, as you can see for yourself
We hadn’t gotten far when I hit a peak of whiny-ness, suggesting I return to the car and drive on to the Shelby Grocery store on a quest for bug spray, to save our lives in the manner of leaving the wounded in the desert to go off in search of water to save both our lives. No doubt, I was suffering from humidity poisoning. Don talked me out of taking an hour off of our morning to fetch bug spray.
It took perhaps 45 minutes for us to realize the birds were messing with us, or worse, Jerry Wilson, the Old Coot we had birded with in Tennessee, messing with us. Cerulean Warblers? Swainson’s Warblers? Nonsense. The species did not exist. It was a joke pulled off by Peterson, another old guy with a cruel sense of humor. We gave up and headed back for the car.
Of course, we checked any movement in the trees along the way. I caught sight of what I thought might be a vireo but found myself excited and yelping at Don, “Swainson’s Warbler!”

Swainson’s Warbler , not my photo though; bird too fast, photo too focused
Don checked out the bird, with its eye stripe, cinnamon crown and habitat that didn’t match the sloping habitat we’d been told the species inhabits. We had been checking for the bird along the underbrush where the species is known to creep along in the manner of Connecticut Warblers. But this silly bird was darting about in a tall shrub, almost 6 feet above the ground. What the heck, the bottom line was Don and I both had a much desired lifer species; our morning was not wasted.
Again, we headed for the car, now not freely giving up our blood to the mosquitoes, just in case they had anything to do with the appearance of our target bird. After a while, Don spotted an Epidonax type Flycatcher. We stared at the bird with its yellowish belly, orange-ish bill. Don said the bird had long wing extensions which means something really important which I hope I understand some day before I die. We added up the key points of the bird and BINGO! I had another lifer species; the Acadian Flycatcher. And the bugger held still so I got several better-than-nothing photos of it.

My lifer Acadian Flycatcher
Hurrah! High fives and four thumbs up, we were jubilant when we reached the car. We drove on to a second site in Shelby Forest. It was a spot Don hiked a week earlier, when I refused to budge from the car. After parking, Don defended himself from a crabby, nasty tempered she-bear that growled… um, that would have been me. I can’t be blamed for my evil temper, it was probably the loss of blood from the ravenous mosquitoes that were determined to suck me dry. They bit Don too, but for some reason his skin didn’t react to the bites so while his skin was baby’s arse soft, mine had the look and feel of a Tasmanian Devil’s snout. It took about an hour of my bitching and a half hour of walking to reach the end of the trail, marked by a private residence. We turned around and headed back for the car. We saw loads of Summer Tanagers and Great Crested Flycatchers & their ilk, flitting along the road but not our target bird.

Great-crested Flycatchers 'sally'
after insects from high perches Then Don’s ears perked. He’d heard a call matching the Cerulean Warbler’s song played from my iPhone. The calls came from tall trees near a park maintenance building, littered with equipment loaded on trailers. We stood there playing the iPhone and and lo! In flew a petite and beautiful Cerulean Warbler, a male! The tiny bird flew back and forth high over our heads in the tree tops. It sang a bold song of challenge to my iPhone.

Petite & colorful male Cerulean Warble
Not my photo
I tried for photos but once again, the eensie warbler turned my camera into a humongous piece of useless equipment for hauling around in futility. Oh well! What do I care, I got my third lifer for the day, my 16th lifer for the trip! Don had his second lifer for the day and a new bird for his annual birding list.
We spent the remainder of our last day driving back into Tennessee and revisiting the Water Treatment Plant we hit the first day of our trip. Unfortunately the Stilt Sandpipers and such were again most conspicuous in their absence. Before we left the area though, we decided to visit the nearby Chucalissa Archaeological Museum.

Chucalissa Archeological Museum

Serpent mosiac detail
The Chucalissa – and they didn’t call themselves by that name – were farmers, hunters and traders that lived in the Memphis area at least 3,000 years ago, then disappeared for no known reason. The Chucalissa left behind loads of artifacts, including pottery, tools, weapons and most notably, large earthen mounds that today’s archaeologists busy themselves guessing at the meaning & use of.
Don and I found that all out by paying the fee and touring both the museum collections and the former Chucalissa mounds where, long ago an active Chucalissa village full of native North American peoples went about their daily lives.
The museum was interesting. The gift shop (otherwise known as a Claire trap’) was free to visit. I am proud to announce I came away from the entire vacation with nothing more than photos and one engraved rock I bought at the museum gift shop. Then after paying our entrance fees we watched a movie on the Chucalissa, which can be seen on line for free here, but y’all come back now, heah?
We were able to have a short tour in the museum’s inner sanctum where exhibits are assembled and artifacts examined.

Behind the Scenes
After touring the other stand up exhibits, we went out to the museum’s ‘backyard’ for a walk around the grounds. It had seemed strange to me at first, the mounds being so high, when usually old digs are found buried down below the debris of time. Apparently the Chucalissa actually carried & piled rocks on spots they chose for . The mounds, and again I have no idea why they were so high up. That made for high platfomrs, where the Chucalissa peoples gathered to trade farmer’s market style, or simply get together for dances and such. One can only imagine how simple or elaborate the area must have looked 3,000 years ago.

Central plaza mound where the peoples would have gathered

click for a closer look at second, larger
mound with stairs visitors can climb to the summit
After the Chucalissa Musuem, we were on the path back to California, vacation was pretty much over and it was time to head west to home. Bugger.

This poster is the closest I got to
Ivory-billed Woodpeckers in Arkansas