Stone Mountain Blues

Sleeping in a hotel has its drawbacks, namely its too comfortable to get up extremely early, especially when you've been sleeping in your car for days. Excuses aside I was out the door at 9am, on my way further up the Alaska Highway towards Stone Mountain. Not far outside of Ft. Nelson I had my first Palm Warbler of the trip, it was cool to see one in its regular habitat of mosquito filled bogs. I had seen one in February at the Nanaimo Estuary, of course that was as a rare winter stray.

Following my trusty birders guide to BC, I had  hoped to go to Kledo Creek, the road I was directed to was gated with a no entry sign, this seemed to be a running phenomenon up here. There was however another road further down the highway, which probably was the same habitat anyways. The birding was decent, I had singing White-winged Crossbills, a bird that I hadn't heard sing in a very long time. Their weird cascading trills carried from the tops of the spruce trees, also here was a heard only Blackpoll Warbler that had me in circles trying to spot it before it seemingly disappeared for good.

Carrying onward the habitat began to switch from the trademark peace parkland alder and spruce bog to more northerly boreal forest, I was soon at Summit lake.

Microwave Road-Stone Mountain

Now the whole reason for coming out this far was because of the easy access to the alpine. From what the guides and my research had told me, there is a road that goes 11km up to the top of a mountain where there is a big microwave tower. For whatever reason I didn't even think about the chance the road might not be open, and to my shock the road was in fact behind a locked gate.

I might have swore a bit, and wore a dismayed look on my face, I wasn't really prepared for an 11km hike, and to make matters worse the Summit lake lodge looked like it had been closed for 15 years... I had been expecting to get gas there..and coffee. Yeesh. I was hoping for chances at Ptarmigan but because of some poor planning I was S.O.L. After wandering a bit up the road I realized I should probably just turn around and try pink mountain on the way back to Fort St. John.

i will add I am glad that there is a new BC bird guide out by the Canning's. Not that Keith Taylor's hasn't served me well over my birding years, but a lot changes over 20 years and its good to have something a little more current to rely on, so mishaps like these don't happen. Though I don't blame anyone but myself. I was lucky that an RV park 30 km's back had gas. Although they charged 1.79 a liter, they made up for it in the fact they had the best coffee I had up north.

I spent the rest of my drive back to Ft Nelson feverishly formulating a plan. I had 6 days left, only 4 in the peace because I still needed to drive home to Vancouver. I was still missing a bunch of birds, it didn't help I had just wasted a day on driving to Stone Mountain for nothing, and I still had to do Pink Mountain which was another big chunk of time.

It was about this time I asked myself what the hell was I even doing? And I began to get depressed about this whole thing, I started to forget what the point of it was, but it was too late now, I was too far in to just give up, there was no stopping the madness.

I stopped at Beaver Lake recreation site, its a little up the Liard river hwy. The habitat looked so good, and there were a moment I heard something resembling a bay-breasted warbler, but after 15 minutes of looking i realized it was the wind creaking a tree and my imagination. Aside from that it seemed dead almost everywhere, it was pretty hot out and the wind had become a hindrance.

By the time I reached Fort Nelson the wind had gotten so bad that birding was impossible, i sat in my car outside the demonstration forest, and decided to call it a day. I camped in Andy Bailey park and had a great surprise when I managed to see a Lynx on the road in. I saw a weird shape up ahead and when I passed by where I had seen it run into the forest, a pair of eyes stared back at me. It was one of those insanely rare moments in nature, my eyes and the lynx;s were locked on each other, I tried for pictures but the light was too dim and my camera refused to focus. Somewhere in between me cursing my camera the lynx vanished into the evening.

It was a rough night of restless sleep, the next 5 days hungover me with a sense of dread and tiredness, I felt as if I needed a miracle.

Fort Nelson

Fort Nelson, the large town before the Yukon. The town itself is like all the other Northern towns in that they have a Highway going through it, and then a residential road on each side that parallels the highway. The one difference that stood out to me was the lack of a Tim Hortons, sacrilege! No matter the coffee up north all seemed to taste weird, and I'm pretty sure its because of the water up North being hard. I remember this being a problem when I lived in the Yukon.

Seeing as I hadn't showered since I had left Vancouver it was time to finally cave in and get a hotel. It would also be nice to sleep with my legs stretched out.

With the few remaining hours of daylight I set out to Parker Lake. The lake is known as one of the better places to find Yellow-bellied Flycatcher. The road going in was rough but passable, I stopped halfway down where the muskeg spruce started. As soon as I got out I heard a distinct "Chebrink". Right away I knew it wasn't a Least Flycatcher, because it wasn't incessant. The call was more nasal and the calls were unevenly paced out.

Finding the bird was a bit of a challenge, after doing some mashing around in the bog I finally had a satisfactory view, I could see the yellowish green belly, its striking orange lower mandible and bright wing bars, sadly not close enough for decent pictures.

I finished the evening following the old Alaska highway back to Fort Nelson. Along the way I made stops to investigate the forests along the road, the amount of Red-eyed Vireos here was astounding. It was like there were 4 singing every 100 meters.

 I did my best analyzing each song for a hint of Philadelphia Vireo, but from what I heard they all seemed Red Eyed. A lot of the time the Vireo's were perched right out in the open, something I don't usually come across in the Lower Mainland.

The last highlight of my day came quickly as I finally tracked down a Mourning Warbler.

This time I knew right away it was a Mourning Warbler singing, but finding the bird was a task in itself. I kept thinking the bird was lower to the ground in a grove of young trees, but finally figured out i had been looking in the wrong spot, and it was really perched at the top singing. Great way to end the day, I was sufficiently satisfied enough to enjoy stretching out and going to sleep.

A REAL Winter Wren

Black Bear-Alaska Highway

The drive to Fort Nelson in the midday sun seemed to take forever. 370 kilometers is like driving to O

soyoos, but unlike the winding road that traverses a variety of habitats, the drive to fort nelson is pretty much like the repeating static scenery of a low budget cartoon. Muskeg and Oil roads. It also didn't help it was almost 30 degrees out.

The few birds I did see were a Cooper's Hawk fly across the road as well as a few mystery raptor's that had me doing U-turns to find out they were just Red-tailed Hawks when I was hoping for Northern Hawk Owl. And of course a few Black Bears.

Black Bear-Alaska Highway

Thirty kilometers from Ft Nelson the habitat begins to change and there is a turn off for Andy Bailey park. The road from the highway to the park is 10 kilometers varied habitat, all excellent birding. The first 4 kilometers gave me a plethora of warblers, including Magnolia, Redstart, Tennessee and Yellow. After that the road passes a bog and I had some great views of breeding plumage Swamp Sparrows. From the bog onward the forest along the road becomes more spruce dominated with dense underbrush, turning a corner I spotted a Spruce Grouse up on the road. I just had time enough to confirm it was a Spruce through my binoculars, because it flew off the road into the forest before I arrived.

I stopped to wander into the forest, hoping to get a closer look, but it seemed to have evaded me, probably sitting in a tree peering down at me somewhere, or it had gone further into the woods. Making my way back to the road I heard a vaguely familiar sound. It was a Pacific Wren, but different, the song was more smooth and musical, less of a jumble of twitters and more of a bubbling warble. It was a Winter Wren.

Winter Wren-Andy Bailey

Now a few years ago it would just be an Eastern Winter Wren, but the species has been split and it became obvious at least sound wise why this was done. So after 3 years of changing my Winter Wrens to Pacific Wren, I could finally say once more I had seen one.

I managed to pish the cute little fellow in real close, he gave me the stink eye and flitted back into the forest.

I highly recommend birding this area as it was very productive and I birded it in the afternoon, a morning would probably have been even better. A few days later I would camp here and even spot a Lynx, a first for me.

Cape May in June

Lincoln's Sparrow-Fish Creek

The days are beginning to blend together in my head but I believe this was my 3rd full day in the Peace.  After returning to Ft St John dangerously low on coffee I hit up Tim Hortons and hit up the Fish Creek Community Forest near the University of Northern BC.

Now I am not exactly sure if this is the same area that is known to some birders as Stoddart Creek, or if that's a separate creek in the same area, or a creek within Fish Creek Community Forest, but I took the directions to Stoddart Creek, and arrived at Fish Creek, the Ebird hotspot was also labeled Stoddart Creek. So my instructions to any birder who visits this park, just assume they are the same thing.

Now i am about to make a claim right now that the mosquito's here were worse than anywhere I had been or would go on my trip, I don't know if I blacked the even worse experiences from my mind, but as far as I can remember when i think of bad mosquitoes, I think of this place.

The forest itself was cool and dark, Western Tanagers called their buzzy sped up Robinesque song from the Canopy. Black-capped Chickadee and those Tennessee machine gunners added to the liveliness. At one point I started to hear a thin high pitched call that resembled at first to be a Golden-crowned Kinglet. But this was different, it was a distinct "seet" repeated three times, over and over, because I had been listening to all the warblers calls to prepare for this trip it dawned on me quickly i was hearing a Cape May Warbler!

The sun was shining into the tops of the spruce trees, I knew the Warbler was somewhere up there, it was just gonna take some time to find it. Usually the way I find these kinds of Warblers, like Townsend's and Black-throated Gray, is to un-focus my eyes at the direction of the song, and wait for some movement, when I see the movement I then use my binoculars. I am sure this is a common practice for birders, but just thought I would share anyways.

The only problem with this method was standing still for any period of time was a very painful proposition. It was more like wave my hands frantically around while craning my neck up into the trees, waiting and watching, patiently listening to the high pitched call...and there! I caught sight of a bird flying from one spruce to another, I jerked my binoculars up to my eyes, and there high up in a Spruce was a male Cape May Warbler, its red cheek blaring in the morning sun.

I managed to keep watch of the bird for a few more minutes, until standing still became so unbearable I had to beat a retreat, instead of taking the trail back to my car, instead I struggled up a hill through the forest and wandered onto the neighboring golf course. From there I followed the forest edge back to where I had parked, but before I made it to my car there was another high pitched warbler call. This one more complicated, it was coming from the deciduous shrubbery across from the entrance.

I soon had a Black and White Warbler perched up on a willow bush, another Lifer! This bird gave me a feeling of satisfaction as I had chased 2 individuals the year prior in Vancouver, missing both of them. It was all the better to see it in breeding territory. Fish Creek turned out to be an excellent choice.

I spent the rest of the morning birding around Taylor BC. Namely Peace Island Park and Johnson road.
Neither held any new birds other than a heard only Baltimore Oriole. I began to worry about the bad weather, and the fact that I was not on the pace I had hoped I would be. I was missing way too many Warblers, Philadelphia Vireo, Nelson's Sparrow, not to mention I still had to go after Ptarmigan.

Because of this I decided to go a day early to Fort Nelson, so I could visit all the spots there, go to Stone Mountain, hopefully bag my Ptarmigan, and if not, go to Pink Mountain on the way back. This should leave me with enough days around Dawson Creek and Ft St John to clean up whatever species I was still missing.

Midnight in the Slough of Watson

One of the cool things about birding in the North is the fact you can bird late into the evenings. Usually 8-9 is when I would call it quits but after leaving Beatton Park i realized I would still have a good 2-3 hours of light. It felt like six pm in Vancouver but really it was 9pm in Ft St John.

It figured I should put in some time at Watson Slough. The Slough located only 30 km West of Fort Nelson towards Hudson's Hope is known as one of the best spots for both Yellow Rail and Nelson's Sparrow. The slough itself is right along a highway pullout, there is a short trail along a part of the slough as well as a small trail into the wet sedge grass.

The sedge wasn't giving anything up to me though, as I spent a good 2 hours sludging around not hearing any sparrows, or Rails for that matter, instead I was subject to the wrath of the Red-winged Blackbirds who didn't take kindly to me being near their marsh, I was mercilessly dive bombed while the mosquito;s feasted on any bare skin made available.

I soon gave up but not before running into a Cow and Calf Moose, sadly the light was too poor for good photo's but I did take one for memories sake.

Cow and Calf Moose-Watson Slough

Luckily they were far enough away I had an exit in case the mother decided to trample me. As I went back to the car Common Nighthawks started calling and gave me a show. I would camp nearby, coming back in the morning in hopes the Sparrow would be calling, but again I met with only Swamp Sparrow's and Blackbirds.

I also have to say a few words about Site C Dam. Everyone has probably heard about it, but I doubt people really understand whats actually going to happen. Though most people have never driven the valley that will be flooded, I urge you to do some research. I myself never realized the scope of this project, but standing out in one of the only places Yellow Rail and Nelson's sparrow breed, not to mention driving through the lush valley, I cannot believe anyone in their right mind would ever think of burying it under water. It opened my eyes, and if you read this I urge that you do a little research and if you are as aghast at me, and the residents of this valley are. please write your MLA, as I have done since returning.

-Ryan

Cedar Waxwing 12am Watson Slough

Broad-winged vs Red-tailed

Butterfly at Beatton

As I pulled into Beatton Provincial Park my first impression was: "man that's a lot of RV's". My plans of camping here were dashed as I found the campground to be swarming with what seemed the entire motor home community of Alberta.  Ahh well as busy as the campground one it was as devoid of humans in the actual park. Seems everyone wanted to sit in a gravel campground instead of braving the mosquito's in the forest.

I found myself alone shortly past the campground, the forest around me buzzing with birds and bugs. I found the fabled old growth Spruce forest, which is one of the last big tracts of White Spruce in the Peace. Spruce is the key to finding two of the specialty warblers, Cape May and Bay -breasted, although i did my best to catch any high pitched calls the best I could do was Black-throated Green.

The forest around Beatton Park

Continuing into the mixed forest the birds were fast and furious, Dusky and Least Flycatchers, Rose-breasted Grosbeak, the Ovenbird, Redstart's and Yellow Warblers, and perhaps my favourite songster of them all the White-throated Sparrow, kept my ears with plenty to do. I did a little bushwhacking after a Vireo that seemed a little different, but turned out to be a Red-eyed. In the process I found this caterpillar totally camouflaged on the birch tree.

Camopillar

After taking some pictures I heard the cry of a Red-tailed Hawk, from under the trees I started straight up and saw a Red-tail soaring high above, but then I saw another hawk. This hawk was a bit smaller, stockier shaped, when I got a good lock on it, i studied the field marks and saw the banded tail and the dark tipped wings, lack of a breast band, it was a Broad-winged Hawk, and man it was pissed off at the Red-tailed Hawk.

The Broad-winged seemed to be taking a page from Eastern Kingbird and it was taking it to the Red-tailed Hawk and eventually had chased it off, and both soon slipped out of my view. What amazing luck, especially in hindsight as I would not see another Broad-winged Hawk the entire trip, even though I looked everywhere.

A hard rain's a gonna fall

The weather I had been experiencing over the first few days was becoming disconcerting. It had gone from mild nuisance to an actual hindrance. There were several times where the rain fell so hard that I had to just sit and wait in my car for it to pass. I had gone through 5 pairs of socks and all of my pants in 2 days. While all of this was minor it was the fact I was being prevented from accessing some of the major birding sites that scared me.

For those who haven't been up north most roads are dirt or dirt with loose gravel. When it rains for an extended period of time the roads can become something more closely related to quicksand, and when you drive a small Toyota, you can bet it becomes a bit of a risk.

It was road 201 where I came inches from being irreversibly stuck. Somehow maybe a bit of skill or just sheer luck, or maybe i prayed to the right birding God, i managed to reverse about a km backwards down the road to where I could turn around. I parked the car and managed to walk out to one of the meadows near the lake, locking in on a call from somewhere in the field I knew right away it was a Leconte's Sparrow.

They sound similar to Savannah Sparrows, but lack the beeping at the start, while the buzzy trill of their call is more harsh. I had a hell of a time to get visuals on the bird, and only managed to see it when it flushed in front of me from the tall grass. I checked the wetter parts for Nelson's Sparrow but like all the other times before, there were none to be seen.

From Swan Lake I travelled north to Ft St John but took the long way through the Clayhurst area. Clayhurst is a vast swath of forest along the Peace River about 50 kilometers east of Ft St John.
There are a few places you can park and just saunter through the forest, I spent a few hours during the midday sun walking through the woods, while it was fairy hot out the birds were active.

Red-eyed Vireo's were everywhere, as were Yellow Warblers and American Redstarts, they seemed to be flitting from every tree. I managed a look at a Peregrine Falcon doing a flyover above the river valley, the first and only Peregrine I would see.

From Clayhurst it was north to Boundary Lake. Boundary lake is one of those legendary sites in the Peace. My imagination had run wild as to what secrets would be held inside this mythical lake I always pictured in my mind. Truth be told I was not prepared for the reality of what the place was actually like.

Firstly, all the roads branching off the main road to go into the lake were turned to the equivalent of brownie batter. My car, I decided was no match for them so I walked towards the lake. I don't know the exact strain this mud was, but I do know this mud was the stickiest mud I had walked through. It adhered to my boots with such force that within ten steps I was a good foot taller and it felt like I was walking in ski boots.

The air had an ominous feeling to it, maybe it was dark clouds, maybe it was all the threatening signage of high pressure oil lines, or the thunder in the distance, but I felt uneasy being there. Through it all I did my best to scour the wet sedge along the way for Nelson's Sparrow to no avail.

After what seemed forever I found the lake and marveled at the bountiful variety of waterfowl. Almost every species was accounted for except for things that aren't this far north like Cinnamon Teal. There were also Eared and Red-necked Grebes, as well as a huge flock of Black Terns. A bolt of lightning struck on the horizon, and i lost my nerve and loped back to my car, just as the rain began to fall again.