Kenai Peninsula, Alaska - September 29th - October 1st, 2004

Our large group managed to stay relatively cohesive throughout the trip.

Upon my return from Point Reyes, I saw that esteemed birder Rich Stallcup was leading a field trip through Point Reyes the following weekend. Why not go back and clean up my many misses with one of the best? Unfortunately, this would force me to miss an LA Audubon Society field trip to the Salton Sea. When I learned that the Stallcup trip had been sold out for months, I called LAAS to grace them with my presence. It never dawned on me that they might be full, too. Luckily for me, and perhaps unluckily for the Pasadena Audubon Society, I discovered that they also had a Salton Sea trip the same weekend. It was the Friday before the trip and I couldn't get in touch with the trip leader, so I just took a chance and drove out into the desert hoping they would have room for me.

I first made my way to Big Morongo Valley Canyon Preserve which is north of the Sea, but I was unable to find any new birds except for unsatisfying looks at Black-throated Sparrow. On my way to Brawley, which was to be our base camp for the weekend, I stopped at a Best Buy in one of the many sprawling desert resort communities east of Palm springs to buy some cheap two way radios and a small digitial camera I hope to use for digiscoping. I pulled into the Brawley Inn fairly late and a young, attractive couple in a sporty SUV pulled in beside me. I wondered what they might be doing in Brawley.

My answer came early the next morning as they joined the large and growing group of bleary-eyed, coffee-drinking birders who were gathering in the parking lot. To my relief, I spotted two familiar faces, Diane and David, who I had recently car-pooled with on the Antelope Valley trip. Now I had the task of finding trip leader Ron Cyger to explain I had crashed his party. Even though Ron was clearly uncomfortable with the size of the group, however, he greeted me as though I were his assistant trip leader. Of course I could join them, we all just needed to be especially cooperative to make the trip a success with such large numbers.

Part of cooperating meant car-pooling to keep our caravan as small as possible, so I jumped into Betty Fletcher’s Dodge Caravan (license plate: "51% Sweetheart/49% Bitch - Don't Push It!"), and we headed off to the Wister Unit. It took quite a while just for everyone to park and fill out the self-pay envelopes before we finally formed a single file line and made our way down one of the trails. It wasn’t long before Ron called out “Common Ground Doves.” This would have been a life bird for me, but I missed them from the back of the line. Not known for my patience, I began to resent this big group of birders. How was I ever going to see anything behind this many people? Would I ever get a second chance at Common Ground Doves? Then, in the middle of my pouting, I remembered that I was the one who didn’t bother to sign up in advance and that I was the one now inconveniencing everyone else.

Within a few steps of the doves, someone called out an American Redstart, and this time we all got excellent looks. New for the year, it was only my second ever American Redstart and I was amazed to see a bird that I associated with eastern woodlands flitting around in the desert heat. New birds for the year started accumulating quickly. Black-tailed Gnatcatcher and Abert’s Towhee made quick appearances. On the way out, Ron pointed out an immature Yellow-headed Blackbird that had only the slightest yellow patch on its throat. I looked forward to seeing the more brightly colored adults.

We birded all of the usual Salton Sea hotspots: the prison, where a Burrowing Owl allowed us a view only of the top of his head; the headquarters, where we ate lunch and observed Snow and Ross’s Geese; and the “Ruddy Ground Dove Pens” on Eddins Road, where were stood up by the main attraction. Bathroom stops were quite time consuming, with our line being so long that by the time it seemed we were ready to get back on the road, many of us had to go again.

Lunch looked fun. I wish I had packed one. Everyone offered parts of their own but I couldn't be the guy who joined the group uninvited AND ate everyone else's lunch.

In the evening, Mark and Janet Scheel and I wandered down the alley behind the Brawley Inn where Ron said we might find a Great Horned Owl. Ron soon joined us, and sure enough, an owl started calling from one of the palm trees. Soon we saw it silhouetted against the darkening night sky. It was only the second owl I had ever seen in the wild and my first of the year, giving me some confidence that I might find my share of these nocturnal phantoms in the months to come.

That night, we gathered at the Town Pump Steakhouse in Brawley. It was nice to relax after a day of full-throttle birding and to learn about some of my new acquaintances. Ron explained that Pasadena Audubon didn’t charge for its field trips and relied solely on member dues. Then he asked “Are you a member?” All eyes were on me, and I suddenly felt I was being asked by a gangster and his henchman whether I had paid my protection money. I assured Ron I would become a member as soon as I got home, and I was allowed to finish my dinner with unbroken fingers.

The next day began with a failed search for an Anhinga at Fig Lagoon. I was able to to pick up a number of common swallows, and Greater White-fronted Goose. Cattle Egrets in adjacent fields earned their name riding the backs of cows. Since I knew I’d see Anhinga in Florida, I selfishly wished that we had spend the morning looking for something else, but I also realized that I was learning a great deal from these birders who wanted to see a common bird in an unfamiliar setting. I also learned more about Double-crested Cormorants, since poor Ron repeatedly had to respond to excited shouts of “Is that it?” with a patient “No, that’s another Cormorant.” Returning to Brawley Several of us were treated to a Burrowing Owl on a street curb in El Centro that truly looked like it was waiting for the bus.

Later in the day, we moved on to Cattle Call Park hoping for a Zone-tailed Hawk. We couldn’t find the hawk, but we did see my first Vermillion Flycatcher of the year (a female which I first misidentified as a Say’s Phoebe) and a Gray Flycatcher. Back at the motel, we said our final goodbyes and I jumped into the bathroom before the long drive back. I expected everyone to have left when I came out, but instead found much of the group still in the parking lot with their binoculars pointed straight up. “What do you have?” I inquired? “Zone-tailed Hawk!” came the response. I looked up to see an exact replica of a Turkey Vulture with a white band on its tail and a yellowish bill in place of the red head of the vulture. I was doubly lucky that the bird chose to fly straight over the motel parking lot and that I came out when I did.

Feeling as though we were on a roll, the Scheel’s and I decided to try again for the Ruddy Ground-Doves on the way back. Our failure to find the doves didn’t stop us for trying for an early Yellow-footed Gull at Obsidian Butte where we were rewarded instead with a beautiful Reddish Egret spotted by Janet. They moved on and I lingered to photograph this life bird. Soon I was joined by a couple with a gigantic Orion telescope which was ideal for digi-scoping. We were in turn joined by a man who claimed to have driven 500 miles to see this bird and was thrilled that we had it in the scope. I was stunned when he leaned over to the eye piece, casually said “Yep, there she is” and got back in his car and was on his way. Throughout the year, I spent a great deal of time lingering on the wonderful birds I saw, new and old.

I left the Salton Sea with 24 new year birds and 12 life birds. During the year, I would see all of these birds again except for Ross’s Goose, which I regret that I never spent the time trying to pick out of a flock of Snow Geese once I had it for the year. Despite having made several more trips back to the Salton Sea during the year, as well as trips to places like Barrow, Alaska, the Dry Tortuga Islands, and Big Bend National Park, I still remember this PAS field trip for the much needed confidence boost it provided early in my year and for the great birders and people I met.

I know that more than a few people still question my choice to travel to far off places for rare birds when I still sometimes struggle to distinguish Hutton’s Vireo from Ruby-crowned Kinglet. The truth is, I knew I would only be disciplined enough the get out in the field as much as I did if I had a clearly defined, grand objective. I still have a long way to go before I even approach the level of those birders I met on my travels, but the improvements I’ve made are noticeable. Whether you decide to do a Big Year or a Big Day, and whether you do it for all of North America or just a local park, I suspect most birders would experience the same wonderful roller coaster of emotions that I did.