I was lucky enough to receive a hard copy version of Birds of Peru (it is now available in soft cover and e-book versions now) from the great folks at Princeton University Press.  Given that Peru has ~1,800 known species, a rather condense format is warranted, otherwise we would end up lugging around a 25 pound tome through customs and into the jungle. A short summary contains the key identification points, habitat associations, voice, and a small, yet detailed range map is present on the left hand page. The habitat portion of each account is absolutely vital. Even with my limited Neotropical birding experience, I have quickly come to understand that the slightest changes in vegetative composition, elevation or slope aspect have profound consequences on the avian community. Birds of Peru goes to great pains to address these determinates of species presence.

The illustrations are outstanding. That is the only way I can describe them. The detail and arrangement of the illustrations is done in the most effective way. The key identifications points really pop out at you when you look at the illustration after reading the text. This sets up a birder-muscle memory type of learning. Generally, I prefer images over illustrations, with many of illustrations coming off to cartoon-like for my tastes. But these illustrations are done in a very life-like manner as i have compare them to photographs of particular species.

One of the authors of Birds of Peru is Ted Parker, a name that rings like a legend in my mind. A wunderkind in every sense of the word, Ted Parker was blessed with the unique combination of the passion, intelligence, and amazingly perceptive senses. The one story that sums up the birder in Ted Parker is when he identified a potential new species from audio recording of a chaotic dawn chorus from Bolivia. The mystery bird turned out to be a new species of antwren, which is describe a year later. I cannot hardly comprehend the mind that can store all the details of songs, calls, ranges, habitats, and seasonality. I could lament that I wish had met him, but instead I chose to be thankful that we were lucky enough to have a Ted Parker among us for as long as we did and his contributions still have ongoing ripples of effect.

Although, I find Birds of Peru an extremely well executed field guide, I do have a bone to pick with the voice section of the accounts. I hate phonetic representations and mnemonics. Repeat, I hate them. I think that this guide would have have really benefitted from an accompanying CD/DVD of the most common songs and other vocalizations of the species covered in the book. I have a really hard time reading “ti-ti tew-tew-tee-teep” for the Black-throated Antbird and having any kind of real understanding of what those syllables sound like in the field. This is where a companion set of vocalizations would really help me out.

Overall, I have done nothing but consume Birds of Peru, trying to digest each species account and illustration. It is my Peru-situational bible of birding. I think that every birder should have as many bird guides as possible in their libraries as possible. It does not matter if you ever make a journey to the far-flung reaches of the Amazon Basin or the rarified air of the Andes. Each guide expands your knowledge and desire to bird even more. Birds of Peru will be a great addition to any birder’s library. You never know if buying this field guide is the gentle nudge that you need to purchase a plane ticket to Lima. I hope someday that my copy is battered and stained from an epic birding trip to Peru.

Peru Birding Tours from Wings

• Machu Picchu and Abra Malaga
• The Manu Biosphere Reserve and Machu Picchu
• The North, Marvelous Spatuletail and the Search for Long-whiskered Owlet
• The Northeast, Explornapo Lodge, the Canopy Walkway and Mishana White Sands Forest

The organization of Molt is in two distinct sections. The first part is an introductory text that details the evolutionary and practical basis for molt, molting strategies in relation to life histories, and molt progressions. Especially helpful are two pages that illustrate molting strategies graphically with corresponding timeline graphs. This is by far the best summation of molt that I have seen in any text.

The second portion of Molt is a series of accounts detailing molt specifics by family. What a resource to quickly find vital molt information about a member of a particular family in an instant. One of my only negative criticisms is that although most of images are outstanding, occasionally an image is not quite illustrative enough or of somewhat poorer quality. However, I realize, having written a field guide myself, that to have all A+ images is nearly impossible, especially when you consider the berth of this particular undertaking.

Now for the hard part to apply this book to my day-to-day birding. Study molt in the field can be valuable to understanding the life history of birds.

Then came the news of the Orange-billed Nightingale-Thrush in the Black Hills of South Dakota. Wow, what a bird! And no sooner than I had a moment of elation, some naysayer starts debating the merits of this bird.

“Is it naturally arriving, and, therefore, countable?”

“Surely it must have been aided.”

My mood sinks once again with the thud of a turd in the toilet bowl. Then I though to myself, “Wait, I’ve forgotten something.” What was it? Then like a baseball bat to the back of the head the answer came to me. “I have forgotten to have fun.”

Birding should be, first and foremost, fun. We should rejoice in every bird because we have the opportunity to experience it and its environment.  I don’t know you personally, but suspect that you would rather being having a good time while birding or dealing with conservation issues. I chase rarities, and I have noticed that attitude plays a big part in the experience. I have chased when I’m pissed or tired, and experience reflects these states. Even when I had located the bird, it was tempered by these negative emotions. However, I have one rarity chase that illustrates how having fun can make chases fun. A Curve-billed Thrasher has shown up in Central Montana. Sam and I jumped in the vehicle and barreled down the highway after work. The sun was quickly descended as we drove the 200 or so miles to the ranch where the thrasher was currently residing. Time was running short, but instead of, being tense about chase, we relax and drove faster. The challenge had become fun, and as the sun faded completely we finally got the shadow of the bird. We got to see it for less than 2 minutes, and it was all worth it. The chase was fun, and the celebratory beer afterward confirmed it. I bird better when I’m in a good mood. I learn more effectively when my heart can’t wait for the next page.

I will not discuss why the ABA is foundering, and play the blame game. It seems that any organization with more than 3 members slips into a political morass. Seems like the ABA was fun in the past, and I think Birding magazine is obscenely informative. The ABA should be fun. The ABA conventions should be fun, even they seem to be more about commerce (hell, commerce should be fun). The listing aspects of the organizations should fun, not some end-all, be-all competition for the coveted title of World Champ.

Our enjoyment of birds can be at the core of almost every conservation issue. With positive intentions and emotions, we can more deeply affect any conservation effort than with a doom and gloom attitude. I can’t even count the number of meeting and conversations I have been involved in where the participants, who truly love birds and nature, do not even crack a smile. It is nothing but “F*cking BP” this and “Goddamn Developers” that. This kind of saddled anger only creates enemies and tensions. It is the classic us and them syndrome that we seem to always find ourselves. I propose that we go into these battles with a smile, knowing that we are doing the right thing and have the right intentions.

I do not want to be a Polly Anna about these issues. There are serious matters and situations that need to be intended to, but let’s do this balance of knowledge and attitude. With a happy heart, mind full of knowledge, and having fun we can affect more change more than furrowed brows and harsh words would ever accomplish. Some folks have the attitude that you cannot have fun and be serious. I vehemently disagree. I know that you can have serious fun or be seriously funny. So, let’s go forward and have fun. Have fun when you discuss important issues. Have fun with your Audubon group.

Have fun when you bird.

This is a great hike that doesn’t appear on hardly any guide books or websites. Maybe that’s a good thing, in that we had the trail to ourselves. The sun and snow made for some good sunburns, just ask my arms and Vida’s back. There are an absolutely ton of switchbacks as you ascend into the basin. The distance and elevation gain makes this one a good challenge while completely enjoyable.

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Today, we were heading to Warm Springs, through the Bighole and Bitterroot Valleys, then inwards in the dark to Glacier National Park. The first stop at Warm Springs was full of a great cast of characters, actors in the June play of Montana. The willows were full of Gray Catbirds, Yellow Warblers, and load, I mean obscenely loud, Northern Waterthrushes. Willow Flycatchers and Western Wood-Pewees flitted from branch to branch.

As morning wore on, we headed along a seldom-used highway to the Bighole Valley. Elk, Pronghorn, and deer appeared like shadows in the mist. A lonely Sandhill Crane stalked a dew-ladened meadow as we passed.

The Bighole Valley was the site to one of Chief Joseph’s battles with US Cavalry troops as he guided his people on their ill-fated attempt for freedom. It is difficult for me to reconcile this bit of history in my mind. People being denied their freedom because of their race, and what makes me think that I am that free now? I am grateful to be liberated enough to venture to this place, breath its air, and hear its song. The Bighole was wonderfully flooded and Sandhill Cranes abounded. Many of ephemrel ponds were inhabited by Killdeer and Wilson’s Phalaropes. Sage Thrashers and Vesper Sparrows perched along the road as we leisurely floated across the valley floor as June warmth descended.

Ascending Chief Joseph Pass, we came across Stellar Jays and Clark’s Nutcrackers before we began the downward climb into the Bitterroot Valley. A magnificent Pileated Woodpecker glided across the road in a moment of time that seemed to last for hours. This bird has always had an air of superiority to my reckoning – it knows that it is the big guy in these cottonwood bottoms. The gray strip of an sea of green is our highway as we navigate northward as if guided by Polaris. Bobolinks and Western Meadowlarks flew over the fields of alfalfa and sweet clover. The Lee Metcalf Refuge greeted us with Lewis’s Woodpecker, Pygmy Nuthatch, and Vaux’s Swifts. Visiting this place again after so many years was a homecoming of sorts. Remembrances of warm days spent here and the birds that I saw flowed from the deep recesses of my mind.

From the Bitterroot, we made our way over to Kim Williams Trail near Missoula where we were treated to incredible looks at a male Nashville Warbler. We dipped on the Carolina Wren, which looks like it has either stop singing or moved on – the lack of a mate and all. Poor guy has been singing his heart for no one either than a handful of wild-eyed Montana birders.

We had a hearty dinner with my father and his wonderful wife. We talked, drank Dragons Breath, and stuffed beef stew into our maws as Eurasian Collared-Doves cooed and a male Bullock’s Oriole carried on, hidden somewhere in the thick maple treetops. After dinner, we went out for our first grail target bird, Flammulated Owl. Driving along the darkening logging roads, two Great Horned Owl fledglings hopped along the forest floor as Common Nighthawks swooped overhead. Pacific Chorus Frogs were in, well, chorus down below. They provided an eerie din of sound as the night curtain fall ever so slowly. I pulled into a hopeful area, and as we listened, we were greeted with a resounding “What the Hell!”. We quickly drove off as there are plenty of people up in these hills that can take a gunslinger mentality. So, we dipped on the Flamm. Like the Rolling Stones said, “You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes.”

We arrived at the Fish Creek Campground in Glacier at around 1 AM. In a couple of hours, we would be treated to one of my most thrilling birding days.

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This year, we decided to do something different; we are going undertake a 5-day, 1600 mile Big Loop. The idea of the Big Loop is to truly bird as much territory as possible without racing. The goals are to see a number of species (hopefully more than 200) and to enjoy our time in the field. As you can see from the map below, we will visiting a variety of areas and habitats.

I will be writing updates (by hand) on the road, but I will updating through Twitter and Facebook. Party on!

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Approaching the Madison River, we encountered the first of thousands of Vesper Sparrows. Red-breasted Mergansers were in abundance in the flooded gravel pit that lies beside the river at Black’s Ford. A flotilla of American White Pelicans feed in a tight in the shallower stretches of the river.

Coming over the hill to Ennis Lake was delayed as the highway was closed as a result of a considerable drift that settled over the asphalt.  Once the plows had done their work, we zoom over to Ennis Lake where the gravel road around the lake was absolutely crawling with Vesper Sparrows and Dark-eyed Juncos. The shallows at the Meadow Creek Fishing Access was covered with a large group (>300) American Avocets, a couple of Willets were calling from the shoreline, and a lone Black-necked Stilt. Western Grebes, Eared Grebes, and American Coots were feeding and floating on the lake as thousands of Tree and Violet-green Swallows fed on emerging insects above the water.

This day was full of first of year sightings. The sparrows were well represented by Vesper, Savannah, Clay-colored and White-throated Sparrows. The first American Pipits were feeding among the melt water on the road. I really miss these guys, and I enjoy seeing them down in the valleys before they head to the high places atop the ridges that surround this valley. A single Common Tern made a pass along the shore, and then disappeared down the Madison River.

Along Jack Creek, we found an American Dipper in full throat as it burst its song over the torrent. The Cedar Creek alluvial fan was popping with Long-billed Curlews and Sandhill Cranes. Watching the graceful curlews feeding on the dry pasture doesn’t seem to jive with the concept of a shorebird. The bills of the males are absolutely absurd in length, and the female’s bill almost seems make sense by comparison. But, these bills are excellent at picking up invertebrates from the ground, which was evidenced by the number feeding on this day.

Jim was a crack birder and a joy to spend time with as well. It is always great to meet another birding friend.

Friday was marked by an improvement in the weather. Konchog Norbu, Non-Birding Vida, and I were heading up to Ewam near Arlee for a weekend of volunteer work and getting to know the Ewam folks. We loaded up in the car and down the interstate we sped. We had one birding stop on the way at the Warm Springs Ponds where we had about 15 Bonaparte’s Gulls that were loafing in the most picturesque locale, the water treatment lagoon for Warm Springs. The season’s first Barn Swallow was also feeding amongst the Tree Swallows.

We arrived at Ewam sometime after nine in the evening, and for the beginning, I have never felt so welcomed at a place. The caretaker, Charlie, made us some tea and we sat around the kitchen talking about Ewam, the Garden of a 1000 Buddhism, and the Dharma to a TV reporter from Billings that had arrived just after us (well, Konchog and Charlie did the talking and we relished listening, so much to learn).

The morning came cool and crisp as Savannah Sparrows and Western Meadowlarks sang in the fields surrounding the house. Konchog and I headed up into the Mission Valley where we visited the Ninepipes National Wildlife Refuge and the National Bison Range. Many waterfowl, Double-crested Cormorants, and Great Blue Herons crowded the waters and shores of the reservoir. A Short-eared Owl flew over the rolling hills and down into the gullies between. Watching the almost otherworldly motion of it’s wings is always intriguing. After observing this owl for some time, we spotted another owl perched atop a fence post. We were able to approach to distance of about ~15 feet without the bird showing any signs of disturbance. The little guy just stood firm as I was able to reel off about 75 images. What an amazing experience.

We returned to Ewam for a day full of work in the lavender garden and making a few Buddha statues. We picked weeds in the garden, and helped to placed a statue on it’s pedestal. After lunch, I had the amazing opportunity to aid in the casting of 3 Buddha statues. The statue making process is quite remarkable, and it is hard for me to imagine the sheer amount of trail and error it must have taken to come up with the right mixture in the concrete. I thoroughly enjoyed the work and I hope I was useful.

Sunday was a special day as it was Non-Birding Vida’s birthday. I was very happy to be able to share this day with her and other wonderful folks. She was pretty darn excited about getting a Buddha shirt. On the way home, I led Konchog to the location of the Carolina Wren, which more than cooperated – letting us have several great views. We had 3 warbler firsts of the year – Orange-crowned, Yellow, and Yellow-rumped Warblers were singing in the these river bottom. A lone Willow Flycatcher was also singing, a sure indication that spring has arrived in earnest.

Well, that’s the rundown of a fantastic weekend spent with great people.

RT @garyvee: I’m not a businessman, I’m a business………. man I’m serious #

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Waking up on Saturday morning, I went down to the old reliable birding spot. The birds present were the usual cast of characters. You know Canada Geese, Mallards, Gadwalls, Northern Shovelers, Cinnamon Teals, and American Coots. The hordes of male Red-winged and Yellow-headed Blackbirds called from the cattails. The first female Red-winged Blackbirds had also arrived. I had an amazing opportunity to photography a rather cooperative Northern Shoveler drake, a species that I have never gotten a decent image of in the past. What a beautiful morning.

After some lunch, I decided to go a for hike in the sun up Sypes Canyon. This trail was full of first of season flowers and butterflies. In the forest, Ruby-crowned Kinglets sang from the tops of Douglas-firs. Many Dark-eyed juncos were also giving their song. The first Mourning Cloaks and Spring Azures of the season were in flight.

On Sunday evening, I took a short hike in the Triple Tree area. As I was meandering along I heard a vaguely familiar song. There amongst of the black hawthorns was a lone, fearless Fox Sparrow. He was singing at a frantic rate of effort. In the past, I have managed only bad, I stress bad, images of this species in Glacier National Park. He landed on a few different perches, all of which were in the good light. I was like a pig in slop. The hike itself reminiscent of my childhood wanderings. No real destination, just looking at everything…taking it all in with no agenda.

RT @twobeerqueers: TBQ Episode 49. Reviewing Goose Island Bourbon County Stout + Brownie Eating [Pls RT] http://bit.ly/48KflW #

@johnholzer I can definitely understand…we in Montucky just can’t get it, yet … imagine my tears in reply to johnholzer #

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The weekend started off with going to Cottonwood Reservoir for a little birdingwith Sam Koenen. Ok, ok, a lot of birding. This little hotspot did not disappoint. The first birds out of the truck were Greater Scaup and Double-crested Cormorant. The reservoir held quite a few species with highlights being Ruddy Ducks, Red-breasted Mergansers, and Eared Grebes. Along the edges, we were able to locate Greater Yellowlegs, Willet, and American Avocets. In the benches above the reservoir, we heard Long-billed Curlews and Sandhill Cranes. The spring’s first Becker’s White was flitting about the sagebrush flats.

The real stars of the day were the raptors of the entire Shields River Valley. We had totals of 9 Golden Eagles, 2 Bald Eagles, 2 Rough-legged Hawks, 5 Ferruginous Hawks, numerous Red-tailed Hawks, 1 Cooper’s Hawk, 9 Northern Harriers, 2 Prairie Falcons, and a pair of American Kestrels. Not bad, not bad at all.

We later traveled down to Livingston where we made our way to Sacajawea Park. I love this place! 5 Wood Ducks and a super-cooperative American Wigeon made this place well worth the visit.

Now, time for lunch. Where, oh where, to go for lunch in Livingston on a beautiful spring day? Got it, how about Mark’s In and Out Beefburgers – home of the best burger ever. That’s right I said ever. Don’t believe, come up here and try it, I dare you.

Awaking Sunday morning, I headed over to the East Gallatin Recreation Area for, drum roll please, a little more birding. The lawns of the park had numerous Richardson’s Ground Squirrel. There numerous singing American Robins and Song Sparrow, while Downy Woodpeckers and Northern Flickers drummed on the cottonwood snags of the floodplain. at the nearby wetland in the Cherry River Fishing Access, I heard my first Sora of the spring. That haunting sounds pierced through the dawn chorus of Red0winged and Yellow-headed Blackbirds.

Later in the afternoon, I went for a quick hike up the Drinking Horse Mountain trail. I guess that the rest of Bozeman had the same idea has the parking lot was so full that I parked out on the highway. I was able to attach the trusty, old macro lens and seek out the first wildflowers of the Rocky Mountain spring. I was able to locate 7 species today; however, the little white mustard has, as yet, defied identification. Oh wait, it was Hairy Rockcress. This Pretty Shootingstar Dodecatheon pulchellum bloomed on a drier, sun-soaked hillside. It is quite treat to see these flowers after such a long winter.

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Arriving at the lek site, the air was cool and skies were utterly without clouds as Venus and Mercury rose and set rapidly in the western sky. Even though it was in vicinity of 9 PM, there was at least one grouse booming within a short distance. I said to Konchog, “There’s your lifer.” He replied, “I need to see it first.” “Looks like we’re sleeping in the truck.” We did not want to disturb the birds at all, so we sleep in the truck and talked in hush tones as sleepiness descended upon us. The sleeping bags were unpacked and laid over our remaining clothed bodies. The cold air, it dropped to 14 degrees that night, stung our noses, but I was warm under multiple layers of down. The short night’s sleep was interrupted by tosses and turns. We were too excited about the coming event to sleep deeply, and, maybe, trying to rest in a seated position was to blame a bit.

I awoke at 3:30 to what I that was fog. “Oh sh*t! How are we going see the grouse?” The “fog” turned out to be a healthy layer of ice that had formed on the inside of the vehicle. Rolling the window down, a starlight sky mixed with a faint booming in the distance.

We arose at 4:30 and began our vigil, and around 5:30, the first smudgy images emerged from the darkness. As the sun slowly rose, more and more grouse-like forms became evident. By 6:30, we were glassing up to 30+ Greater Sage-Grouse males as they strutted, occasionally chase one another, and boomed. Oh Lord, how they boomed. The orange-yellow skin of the vocal sacs flashed in the milky twilight.

Soon we were able to make out the flirtatious females as they inspected their would be suitors as the males give everything that they had in their individual performances. Two males in particular held central locations within the lek, and the females seemed to find them more desirable. Younger, weaker, or maybe just unlucky males were all around the lek. The lek itself was an area of short grass within a sea of sagebrush on an exposed ridge. This lek has been used historically by this population since at the 1960s, when it was documented, but it has, in all likelihood, been occupied for much longer than that amount of time.

We were held spellbound for the entire morning, and we commented more than once on how fortunate we were to be able to behold this species and their unique behavior in this scenic place. My camera was in near nonstop action. I was actually fearing for the shutter. I have never seen this lek or any other with so many grouse. It was very encouraging to see, but I had to temper my excitement with the knowledge that the overall numbers are still declining. But, maybe this was a hopeful sign of better days ahead for these imperiled animals.

The action waned as the clock neared 9 AM. One grouse would blast off and fly over the sagebrush steppe, and then another would soon follow. Soon there where only a few males left on the lek. They were obviously tired as they laid on the ground and booming became less frequent. Then a single female wandered through the lek, and the remaining boomers perked up one more time and the show was on again. Like a teenage tease, she got the boys worked up, only to fly off seemingly unimpressed. Finally, one grouse was left exhausted and alone, and, then, he too lifted off and flew toward Reservoir Creek. Maybe he needed a drink.

As we left the lek, we stopped at an area of taller sagebrush, and the season’s first Sage Thrasher sang from the upper reaches of the aromatic plant. His song seemed to incorporate elements of the Western Meadowlark, a Mimidae species indeed. How I love sagebrush – the smell and look ooze the feeling of the Old West. We even crushed the leaves for the unique smell, and I noticed a difference between the aromas of older and younger sages. Maybe my nose from beer tastings is getting developed and picking up nuances of smell, and Konchog’s coffee nose was working in the same manner. On another botanical note, I did find a couple of Spinystar cactuses (Coryphantha vivipara), and, man, was I remiss in not taking a picture. Baldy Mountain loomed snow-capped in the distance as traveled toward Bannack.

Now for the historical portion of trip. We roamed the grounds of the Bannack ghost town. We talked about Road Agents and Vigilantes, those groups of renegades who were also lawmen and vice versa that saw to several years of bloodshed in the region. Some of their withering bodies lie to the Bannack cemetery after they found themselves on the business end of a rope. Wandering into the buildings and peering through the distorted windows, I thought about how hardy those folks must have been and their courage to shrike out for riches in this remote place. Most found poverty, prostitution, and failure as with most mining boom towns. The grounds were also very birdy. Do you think that we quit birding? C’mon man! There were many Dark-eyed Juncos, Song Sparrows, Northern Flickers, Downy Woodpeckers, and the spring’s first Spotted Towhee. For splash of color, quite a few Mountain Bluebirds were making the dilapidated buildings perches for their singing.

By noon, it was time to head toward home with a few more birding stops along the way. We had got word of a Burrowing Owl near Dillon through the Montana Online Birding group, and after a few calls, we had precise directions to the bird and its burrow (thanks Dr. Kirkley). When we first drove to burrow, there were two little brown owls standing outside of the burrow. One flew off and landed a short distance away. The lone creature was the most cooperative little owl has it guarded its burrow – its sanctuary.  Later on, we made our way to Birch Creek, which was the location of my research in college. Talk about the way back machine. I was remembering everything about the project, and, probably, bending Konchog’s ear about it. You know it’s a good study when it takes two breathes to just say the title (available upon request).

From Dillon to Twin Bridges, we went over the pass from Virginia City to Ennis, and we ended our day at Ennis Lake. The amount and diversity of waterfowl was stunning. We had first of year Osprey, Common Loon, and American White Pelican sightings. We even talked about the lack of Killdeer on this trip, and then 3 were within 20 meters of us at the Meadow lake Fishing Access.

We arrived home tired and road weary, but the trip was everything that I had hoped it could be, and Konchog was able to pick up two lifers (Greater Sage-Grouse and Burrowing Owl). The only dips of the trip were the remote possibilities of Sage Sparrow and Long-billed Curlew. I am deeply appreciative and grateful to seen these wonderful birds and to have the great company.