We here at Intrigued just wanted to take a quick moment to extend our best wishes for a very Merry Christmas (or related holiday event) to all or wonderful readers!
It’s that time of year when we shut the lights off and close the office doors for a few days so we can enjoy this special holiday with family and friends. Hit the jump to see a few more warm tidings from our staff!
And here we are, the first day of August. The entire Intrigued staff are very aware today is the official start of Haunt Stress Season. Our annual Haunted Trail event (link here) is now less than two months away and simply based on the number of half-done projects scattered about the headquarters, there is going to be a lot of sleepless nights between now and event opening. I am going to hop on the Mothership and get a couple of pending race recap posts out that I don’t want on the top of the list while trying to finish up the new props (one of the posts is going to be painful enough all by itself). While I lighten the top of my queue, Brad is going to bring you a new field find from South Carolina.
Take it away Brad…
During a typical Illinois winter, Jan and I like to escape the weather for a week or so in February. Last year we went to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina (not very far from North Carolina). This year we visited Hilton Head Island on the other end of South Carolina, right next to Georgia. After a long morning at Sea Pines Forest Preserve, we wanted to see birds at the seashore. One of the Top Ten lists for birders in the area suggested Fish Haul Beach, so that’s where we headed.
As we left the parking lot and walked through the dunes, I could see what looked like a bunch of ants way out at the edge of the water. Being a typical landlubber, I had completely forgotten about the tides. When it’s high tide, no problem, there’s a narrow beach and no tidal flat to walk on. But at only a few minutes before a very low tide, the flats are a couple hundred yards deep (beach to waterline) depending on location.
Tide’s out. Let’s go see what’s out there.
Naturally, I began to stroll in that direction. Jan started strolling as well, but in a completely different direction on the tidal flat, there was so much area to cover! There’s always that little bit of a funky smell when the tide is all the way out. The sand was wet but very firm and easy to walk on; much easier than the really dry powdery sand above the high tide line. These little clear tubes were sticking up all over the place. They sort of looked like a forest of plastic drinking straws. Remember grade school milk cartons and those little plastic straws? That’s just what they looked like, but a bit shorter. I tried to be careful not to step on them, but quickly realized that was a losing proposition, and trod as carefully as I could through the forest of inch-long (25mm for the rest of the world) clear tubes. I still don’t know what was hiding under the sand, maybe there’s a future story when I find out.
A lady was scraping mussels (or clams or oysters) off a rocky pile as I passed by. She didn’t even look up; they must be very used to tourists with large cameras strolling by at low tide. The mussels (or whatever they were) must have been particularly good that day.
As I got closer to the ants, I could see they were actually medium-sized black and white birds with a bit of orange/red highlight color. From that distance I still couldn’t tell which end was which. Before I could get close enough for a decent identification photo, the bunch of them took flight. My shoulders fell when I thought I missed my chance at a +1 bird.
Howdy folks! Somehow we have managed to fly through July already. Part of that fly-by was thanks to a pretty busy month here at Intrigued. Intrigued’s 4th celebration, Brad and Jan out in the field and there were several running events packed in there; Jan’s St. Jude run, my failure at Cry My a River and as of last Saturday, our 20th consecutive running of the Bix7 up in the Quad Cities. Admittedly, wasn’t so sure how the Bix would go based on my previous performance in the heat and Bix is traditionally an oven of a race being deep in July. Fortunately, temps stayed Midwestern mild in mid to high 80s for the actual race and all went well, very well actually (temps did go back up to normal post race). A great way to wrap up my road race career, it is all trails from this point on! While I get a bit of recovery in, Brad is going to bring us an adventure from another steamy location.
Take it away Brad…
Jan and I have the Annual Parks Pass, allowing us unfettered access to all of the nation’s national parks, forests, monuments, etc. We’ve purchased one each year since we retired and have more than paid for the pass with savings on park entrance fees several times over. When we had the opportunity to visit another National Park, we jumped at the chance to pile on the savings. If you don’t have your Annual Parks Pass by now . . . well . . . you know who you are.
The desert around Las Vegas is just that; a desert. We shook it up a bit by visiting the largest reservoir in the US, or even in North America: Lake Mead. For those keeping score at home, Lake Powell has more surface area, but Lake Mead holds more water. Both are suffering from extended drought conditions and increased demand for water. Kids don’t let the water keep running when you brush your teeth. After leaving the visitor center, we headed towards the Wetland Trail in Lake Mead National Recreation Area.
A few minutes into our hike along a ridge, I spotted something flitting in and out of a hole in the side of a cliff. A swallow was my first thought, but being 50-75 yards away, all I got was a small brown smudge on the sensor near the middle of the photo
Look closely and you’ll see the tiny image of the bird near a hole where the rock changes from gravelly aggregate to red-striated sandstone. Did you see it? Good.
This wetland trail area looks a bit like a capital letter “X”. The parking lot is near the top with the trail running along a ridge down the middle of the top half of the X. The marshy area is down the left leg of the X. The right side of the X was completely dry, even when it met the other side near the middle of the X. The trail along the peak of the ridge was mostly loose gravel. Several signs stated that this trail was not maintained and to hike at our own risk. The top part of the trail was OK. But as we neared the junction of the X and began the descent, I was very aware I was carrying a 9 lb. camera because the swinging weight was affecting my footing. Jan must have had a harder time of it. I imagined I was hiking on a non-stick surface covered in loose marbles. We descended the loose gravel switchbacks to the bottom of the wash ending up by the running water (left side of the X). Jan headed upstream along the marshy area and I wandered downstream a bit. At the bottom of the trail the right side of the X connected with our ravine then branched off again. This other ravine was probably the one I had seen from above early on.
As I wandered into the other ravine (right side of the X near the center), I saw a branch sticking out of dried mud. I think it was the remains of a tree that had been washed down the ravine during the biblical rains from Hurricane Hilary the prior summer. This was the same storm system that left standing water in Badwater Basin at Death Valley (future story).
A little brown smudge landed on the end of the branch. Naturally, I started clicking away. The smudge was still a bit far for a good photo, so I walked slowly until the bird began to fill the frame.
First off, we want to send our wishes out to our Texas based family, friends and others that were recently impacted by Hurricane Beryl. Texas is our home away from home and it is disheartening to hear about them experiencing another severe weather related event. Over the years, we have barely escaped crippling ice storms, hunkered down for a wicked tropical thunderstorm and witnessed the destruction at Rockport from Hurricane Harvey (link here). You are all proven Texas Strong! Locally I am going stir crazy waiting out the final days before the big race. Been getting some Beryl fallout as it has been raining extensively here the last couple of days and likely to continue up through the race. This race is already a “sufferfest in the valleys of death” – adding in a mudfest isn’t going to help my spirits any (link here). While I make tweaks to the final race plan, Brad is going to take you back to California…no wait, Vegas…so confused ha.
Take it away Brad…
Ever have the feeling you’ve done something before? Or been someplace before that you’ve never been to. That sort of happened to me when I was reviewing photos from a recent trip to Las Vegas and points nearby.
This story, and the bird, are nearly identical to another one, except that all of the facts have been changed. The venue is different. The nearby airport is different. The bird is different (mostly). The desert setting is nearly identical. The lighting conditions are nearly identical with the featured bird sitting high on a twig like before. The camera body is the same. The lens is different. Jan took all of the photos of both birds. The fact that I was nowhere nearby is identical. In fact, I didn’t even know Jan photographed this bird, too, until I reviewed the photos at home, just like last time.
Wait a minute. Is he just re-publishing the story about the California Thrasher (here) and simply retitling it? Has Wildlife Intrigued gone bonkers? Well, sort of. See if you can spot the differences from this photo.
Jan and I were, can you guess, on vacation again. Last time we were in California at the Upper Newport Bay Nature Preserve in California. This time we were at the Clark County Wetlands Park just outside Las Vegas, Nevada.
As is the custom, once we park the car, I assemble Jan’s camera first. This was the first trip with her brand-new Nikon 200-500mm lens. (Wildlife Intrigued uses exclusively Nikon equipment. If anyone from Nikon is reading this and wishes to sponsor the Wildlife Intrigued blog, please contact our Legal department.) I knew she was itching to try it out on birds. Once the lens was on the camera, I handed it over and got out of the way. For some reason, it took me a few extra minutes to assemble my camera this time. Maybe because we traveled by air and had to use two camera bags with bits scattered all over. It could also have been that I was tangled up in my new Black Rapid strap (not their fault). After a minute of untying nylon webbing knots, I was ready to go. In the meantime, Jan was busy capturing this feathered friend.
I wandered across the empty parking lot to the first trail into the brush. Literally, as my feet hit the well-groomed trail, my mobile phone rang. I didn’t recognize the phone number (it wasn’t in my contact list) and was going to let it go to voicemail. But remembering I’d had a call from that area code a few days before, with a similar number that was legit, I answered it. It was the hotel we had booked to observe the eclipse (booked 18 months prior to the eclipse). The little town near the center line of totality for the April 2024 eclipse had been hit by a tornado. About the only buildings left standing in town were our hotel and the school gymnasium. As tragic as that is, the senior center and senior housing were completely leveled. The hotel was going to house the newly homeless seniors and needed my room. After a bit of teeth gnashing, I realized I really had no choice and let the room go. It’s now scramble time for finding a spot to view the eclipse. At the time, the eclipse was less than two weeks away, which meant that finding a hotel room anywhere near the centerline of the eclipse, without costing my firstborn child, would be impossible. (See the story Twice in a Lifetime for the result of the search if you are curious.)
Just as I hung up the phone Jan came back and wanted to show me a bird. As we walked up to the twig where it was sitting, it had chosen to skedaddle. (I really didn’t get to see it until later.)
Hit the jump to find out today’s feathered friend.
Hoping those here in the States had a happy and safe 4th of July celebration! Our Intrigued HQ is just down the road from an individual that puts on a rather impressive annual show for us ruralites. Had some of our staff over (including Brad and Jan), filled the coolers with drinks, threw some meat on the grill and capped the night with things that light up the sky and make you go Oooohhhh and Ahhhhh – life is good. I did manage to come out with a losing record in our highly competitive JARTS tournament (the real ones, not those pansy ones they try to pawn off on kids these days). That will have to be remedied during our next Intrigued outing!!! As promised in my previous post, Brad has posting duties while I taper/rest/heal/plan/worry/obsess/fret and generally drive Linda crazy this week leading up to the first ultra of the year. One of those planning tasks is to set the crew schedule. In this case, only a cast of one (well, and 3 furry assistants), but I can tell you without hesitation, Linda is the secret sauce to success. While I go through the details with her, we’ll have Brad bring us an adventure with a much larger crew!
Take it away Brad…
After a very long and productive day of birding at Harris Neck NWR in Georgia, Jan and I decided we needed just a little bit more birding in our full day. Our memory cards weren’t quite full, and what’s the use of having large memory cards if you don’t fill them? Plus, we had plenty of battery life left on our cameras.
We decided to visit the Savannah National Wildlife Refuge, which sits on the South Carolina state line shared with Georgia. While on a bird walk on Hilton Head at the Audubon Newhall Preserve, we heard people talking about the “millions” of ducks at Savannah. Others on the walk said there can’t be more than 10-20 birds there, there has never been a “million” in one location. A million ducks would be interesting. That sounded like a challenge for us.
Savannah NWR, at least the part we visited, is a drive-through nature preserve. The gravel drive is mostly a causeway type of thoroughfare, raised a few feet above the tidal water on either side. We had just entered the preserve and rounded the first corner when we saw a large grey pickup parked along the side of the road. That usually means there’s something worth photographing nearby. I pulled within a respectable distance of the truck and parked the car. Jan and I already had our cameras assembled and ready to go from earlier in the day. We saw the owner of the truck on the other side of the road on a smaller walking path. He was looking into the distance.
As we approached the driver was shaking his head and muttering something about, “every time I move, they move.” He had just driven non-stop from Virginia and was a bit worn out chasing ducks back and forth across this little pond.
What’s that sound, everybody look what’s going down on the other side of the jump!