Tucson's going to be hot. It's 106 degrees there right now. And after the cool climb up the Pinnacles Trail for the Colima Warbler the day before, we knew that we'd be facing some heat that next morning, too. This was Texas, after all. And no more mountain climbing for us. No taking solace in the cool mountain air or the generous shade of the pinyons and oaks. The Colima Warbler had been an amazing team effort and a satisfying accomplishment, but once safely tucked away, it's on to the next bird. For us, that meant a trek through a hot, burnished canyon, Blue Creek Canyon, to seach for two very special birds.
First, we'd be looking for the Gray Vireo, a drab, gray, but very charismatic little bird who prefers just the kind of rocky, arid, brushy landscape through which we'd be hiking that morning. And second, our more challenging target, was the Lucifer Hummingbird. This beautiful jewel lives mostly in Mexico, but a small number nest in the U.S., only in Big Bend National Park and southeast Arizona. We'd be hoping to find some blooming agave and ocotillo plants throughout the canyon to attract the Lucifer, but with the ongoing drought, we had no idea what to expect.
You really never know what to expect when you're up against the natural world. One day, you spend ten hours looking for an elusive bird, and the next day, you spend ten seconds. Having worked so hard the day before on the Colima, we had accustomed ourselves to the prospect of a long and arduous hunt. From the top of the stairs at the side of road, we looked down at the breathtaking route ahead. The high canyon walls would soon usher us forward through a desert of blooming cactus, wildflowers, and mesquite. As we climbed down the steps toward the trailhead, we mentally dug in for the long haul. It was already hot, and if the target birds proved elusive, we would have to persevere. Black-throated Sparrows, Canyon Towhees, and Ash-throated Flycatchers greeted us with an overture of song.
When we reached the beginning of our trail, we felt fully acclimated, both physically and mentally, to the prospect of a rigorous day's journey. And so we were taken completely unawares, stunned, in fact, to be confronted with a pair of Gray Vireos collecting nesting material just seconds after taking our first few steps!
We found the birds so quickly that Bill was still a ways behind, coordinating the day's schedule! But who could predict that fortune would strike so quickly? We radioed Bill, and while he made his way forward, we enjoyed the show in front of us.
See that long tail? They really flip and flap it about!
The two vireos were collecting nesting material, but they paused to check us out.
After a brief but confiding display, they "turned tail" and flew off.
By the time Bill arrived, the pair had unfortunately moved on, but luckily Bill and the rest of the group were still able to enjoy hearing the vireos sing in the distance. Although Bill missed them by seconds, this early chance encounter was critical for the group, as we wouldn't see another Gray Vireo for the rest of the trip.
We now continued on into the canyon, turning our attention to the next target, the Lucifer Hummingbird. We each progressed at our own pace, and we began to spread out, radios in hand. As we walked deeper into the canyon, we scanned the hillsides, hoping for any sign of a hummer. The slopes were covered with agaves and ocotillos, and many of them were auspiciously in bloom:
Blooming Ocotillo
But we walked for more than hour with no sign of a Lucifer. The canyon wasn't devoid of birds, however. Canyon Wrens swooned from high atop the canyon walls, while Rock Wrens repeated their sweet songs from the rocky outcroppings. Rufous-crowned Sparrows darted from bush to bush. A Black-tailed Gnatcatcher called but played hard-to-get. Verdin's cheeped from every direction. But still, no hummingbird.
Bill told us that the best potential spot for the Lucifer was still farther along the trail, where there should be a higher density of flowers. It would have been easy to submit to the heat and to the possibility that there would be no Lucifers here, but Bill kept urging us onward. My subgroup had paced ahead, and Bill was just telling us over the radio to keep looking for congregations of flowers, when we turned the corner and spied a tiny little bird atop an ocotillo. But was it our bird?
What can we tell from structure and shape alone?
With hummingbirds, it's always about the gorget, right? That's what we want to see. But that's not always in the cards. So let's take a closer look at what's in front of us. The bill looks noticeably decurved. That tail extends way past the short wingtips and appears to fold into a narrow point. And although we can't see the gorget's glistening iridescence, we can see that the gorget is long down the throat. It's our Lucifer Hummingbird!
We called out on the radio, and everyone behind us began jogging forward. Although we had our Lucifer Hummingbird teed up before us, could you blame us for wanting some better looks, especially at that gleaming magenta gorget? The bird did maneuver himself a bit, and eventually moved over to an agave, alighting unfavorably with his back to us.
We can see now that the tail is indeed forked, as it should be on the male.
There's that hunched posture again, the folded tail, and the down-curved bill.
Finally, the Lucifer decided he was hungry, and began feeding from the ocotillos nearby, giving us the chance, at last, to admire him from every angle.
It's so hard to see that gorget just right, but look how long it is down the throat!
The Lucifer landed again, and I attempted to work my way around, through some thorny bushes, to get some photographs of his gorgeous gorget without disturbing him. Fortunately, I succeeded.
Look at the fork on that tail...if you can tear your eyes off of his sparkling magenta gorget, that is!
The gorget glistens only within a very narrow angle of view...A few degrees off, and it turns black.
But when the angle is right...wow!
You can bet he makes sure that angle is right when he's impressing his lady-friend!
All the members of our group made it in time to enjoy the Lucifer Hummingbird. To observe this bird on its breeding grounds without the assistance of any feeders was a real thrill. Sitting at a collection of productive hummingbird feeders has to be one of the most exciting and enjoyable birding experiences out there, especially in Arizona, or even moreso in the tropics. But that rush you get from finding a hummingbird out in the wild, foraging on its own without a feeder around for miles...well, that's a rare treat, and one to cherish.
We turned around and headed back to the cars. Our target birds acquired, I was able to pay more attention to the rest of the world around me. It's amazing what else you notice when you're not concentrating on one particular bird. A certain kind of lizard drew my attention, often scurrying over the sunny rocks in front of me. It was a Greater Earless Lizard, and out here in Big Bend, it's the "Southwestern" subspecies, sometimes called the Chihuahuan Greater Earless Lizard. A female seemed to be leading me, blazing the way ahead back to the cars. Periodically, she would pause in her tracks, allowing me to approach and photograph her, and to admire her subtle beauty.
You can begin to see some of the alluring coloration on her side and belly.
The males have much more striking patterns on their sides, just in front of their hind legs.
Maybe I could find one to compare?
The female's throat becomes orange and her sides grow a bright pink when she's pregnant. Looks like this one is still looking for a mate.
She seemed very eager to make friends with me. She wasn't camera shy!
Notice how she has no external ears! An "earless lizard"!
My new friend loved the broken rocks along the dry, sandy streambed, rarely running for cover. I continued to see more and more of these lizards, but all were female...except for the last one I spotted as I climbed the stairs back to the cars.
Ahhh, now there's a striking pattern!
And look at that red pouch that just descended from his throat!
Just when we thought that segment of our adventure was finished, only a few short steps from the cars, Zack had to go and win our little gentleman's bet! Everyone had been aching to spot a Zone-tailed Hawk for days, so Zack and I had put a little wager on who would be the first to find one. The prize: a nice, cold, craft beer back in Massachusetts. Well, Zack earned his Allagash! Cheers!
Does it look like a vulture at first? Not really, if you get a good look.
What are those tail bands doing there?
It's thought that their superficial similarity to vultures might allow them to surprise their prey, mostly birds and reptiles. Look out, Greater Earless Lizards!
Click on the photo to enlarge and you'll see that there's more than one band, or "zone," on the tail.
There are many other ways to distinguish the Zone-tailed from a vulture.
Check out those yellow feet and that feathered head!
Vultures have silvery flight feathers...but look at the dark trailing edge on the wings of this Zone-tailed. A very different pattern!
As Zack breathed in the sweet smell of victory, the Zone-tailed Hawk circled back around again, giving us another chance to admire him.
The more you look at him, the more he looks like a buteo, not a vulture.
Although I can see why an unwary lizard might be fooled!
The remiges, or flight feathers, are barred, unlike on a vulture.
I'll get you next time, Zack!
From there, we headed to the Cottonwood campground, where immediately upon arrival, we had yet another buteo, looking down at us suspiciously from his perch overhead.
Gray Hawk
I was dying to see him flying around, but first, Bill wanted to lead us all to nearby Santa Elena Canyon, and then we would have choices of where to go from there. Santa Elena Canyon is a deep, narrow gorge where the Rio Grande cuts right through the mountains. It's an awesome sight. And it's always a thrill to walk up to the Rio Grande and dip your hands and feet in. I took in the beauty of the scene for a while, but having been there before, I decided to turn my attention to the wildlife nearby. There weren't many birds around, save for a few ravens, but dragonflies abounded, and although I have no experience identifying them, they continue to fascinate me.
Actually, I suppose this is a damselfly. Identification, anyone?
On the way back to the cars, Elissa called out over the radio that she had an interesting kingbird, one that she thought was a Cassin's Kingbird. All the other kingbirds nearby had been Western Kingbirds, but Elissa stuck to her guns, and she was right on! Putting the bird in a scope allowed us to confirm that it was a Cassin's Kingbird, just as she had suspected. Nice one, Elissa!
Look at that dark gray breast...
And there's the contrasting white throat!
Another good look at the white throat and malar.
He seemed quite pleased to be getting so much attention.
The Cassin's Kingbird repositioned himself, allowing us to observe his tail.
No white sides to the tail...just pale tips to the tail feathers.
Overall more handsome and dapper than a Western.
I've recently found success in distinguishing these kingbirds in flight by looking at the wing coverts. On a Western Kingbird, the back is somewhat lighter with darker wing coverts, while on a Cassin's, it's kind of the other way around: a darker back with lighter wing coverts. Consider this photo I took of a Western Kingbird at Rio Grande Village:
Don't the wings and wing coverts look darker than the back?
Now, let's look at the wing coverts on Elissa's bird:
The wing coverts have distinctly paler edges, giving them a lighter look.
After considering all the options, my car, Car 5, decided to return to the Cottonwood campground to get better looks at the Gray Hawk and to explore whatever else might be lurking around. By the time we got there, Mike and his car had already arrived and were energetically pursuing a small bird in a nearby tree. Once we finally tracked it down, we were able to add Plumbeous Vireo to our trip list!
Does it resemble the Gray Vireo from Blue Creek Canyon?
Maybe a little, but look at those bright white spectacles!
And here you can see the tail, much shorter than on a Gray Vireo.
He was gleaning bugs from the foliage.
Looks like he's got another one!
Down the hatch!
"You lookin' at me?"
The campground was chock-full of birds. Summer Tanagers sang from every treetop. Western Kingbirds called incessantly. And who can resist taking another picture of a Vermilion Flycatcher?
He was collecting prey for his nestlings nearby!
A migrating Wilson's Warbler tested our patience before giving us a good look.
If I had to guess, I'd say that he's from the Pacific population. Doesn't he look to have a touch of golden-yellow on his face? Tough to tell for sure...
The real show, however, was the pair of Gray Hawks that watched us from overhead, and then proceeded to soar right over the campground!
Who's more majestic than a hawk?
An eagle, perhaps? This Gray Hawk may not agree.
Exuding decorum
As if he weren't formidable enough from a perch...
His flight feathers are transcendantly translucent!
Note the limited dark tips to the wings.
Birds and lizards, beware!
Just magnificent how he commands our respect.
We returned to the lodge for dinner, but headed out soon after to the campground at Rio Grande Village. Our hope was to get close enough to an Elf Owl to get a satisfying look. But with our thoughts centered fimly on owls, we almost missed the Black Bear that was feeding by the side of the road as we left the lodge!
How can such a massive animal fill up on berries and nuts?
At the Rio Grande Village campground, a pair of Common Black-Hawks were known to be nesting, and after a little bit of effort, we located the nest and the hawks themselves.
An unusual perch for a large raptor?
This is how they hunt...from a low perch, just waiting to pounce...
And pounce he did! After sitting on top of that bush, completely motionless, for what seemed like hours, he dived into the shrubbery and emerged with a snake between his talons! And he took his catch up into the cottonwood and laid it along a large limb. If you look carefully, you can see the snake lying along the limb next to the black-hawk below:
And can you just make out the white band at the base of the tail?
As darkness fell, we were treated to a generous display of Lesser Nighthawks, but could discern no Elf Owls calling nearby. We waited until it was pitch black, but still, no owls. We walked around the parking lot with our flashlights, hoping to hear something in the blackness, but nothing. Finally, it was time to leave, and so Bill collected us together in a circle and began going over the next day's plan. Just before we disbanded, Bill was interrupted by an eerie whinnying just behind us. We spun around, Zack flashed the spotlight, and to our utter astonishment, Zack's superhuman senses had allowed him to train his light exactly on the spot where a tiny Elf Owl now sat perched on a branch at eye-level, not fifteen feet away! The lack of sunlight and my inexperience with nighttime photography made capturing the Elf Owl on film a challenge, but that look of a lifetime was something we would all remember. I was able to walk away with one photograph:
Our smallest owl! That's little consolation for any insects nearby...
A long and rewarding day had come to an end. We would revisit many of the same campgrounds the next day, to see what else they had to offer. After so many great birds, it was hard to think that there could be anything left to surprise us. Hard, but not impossible...
