Crane Mountain Birdwatch

View from the Summit of Crane Mountain
And here I will relate my Mountain Birdwatch adventure on Crane Mountain. (For the link to Mountain Birdwatch, please scroll down to my previous post and search for the blue highlighted "Mountain Birdwatch" text and just click.) First of all, I'm so glad that Crane Mountain was assigned to me. Evidently the person who covered Crane last year was not able to do it this year, and, as a result, I had a fairly short drive to the trailhead in the early morning hours of Saturday, June 16, rather than a long drive to a mountain in the High Peaks. I say "fairly short" because I didn't realize until I was in the car at 3:30am that I wouldn't be able to drive at a normal daytime speed. I forgot to factor in the need to drive at 20-25 mph, all because the roads belong to wildlife at that hour. Not one but two foxes ran across the road at various points. And a doe was so mesmerized by my headlights, she took a long time to recover and meander off the road.

With no moon, the world was dark. Yet at half past three, as I left our house, the east was light! The strong cup of coffee, brewed at the bewitching hour of 2:45 am, kept me alert. Let's face it, though, I was tense with this mission ahead of me. I slept with the light on all night. Now this wasn't intentional, but I think my unconscious was trying to ensure I'd get up when the alarm went off.

When I arrived at the trailhead, I ate the yogurt I had brought with me. I then slathered on a heavy application of my non-Deet bug repellent/SPF 30 lotion. As I prayed that the mosquitos would not eat me alive, I slathered on extra bug stuff around my hairline, a favorite target.

I put on my headlamp, got out of the car, and heaved my pack onto my back. Inside it was my Sony CD player and 2 smallish speakers, and lots of water, my Mountain Birdwatch notebook, birding guide, and extra clothing. If I failed to hear the endangered Bicknell's Thrush on my route, I was to retrace my steps, playing genuine Bicknell Thrush calls and its song at each of the five stations.

A quick glance at my watch--4:20 am. How did it get to be so late so quickly? I set off for the trail, signed in, and started climbing. It was not pitch dark, but the rocks on the trail were barely visible, even with a headlamp. I scrambled up the mountain as fast as my legs and lungs would allow me, pushing relentlessly, and yes, stumbling, I'm embarrassed to say. I had to make tracks fast because I knew how important it was to be at Station 1 early, before five if I could. Bicknell's do not sing all day, nor all morning.

Thirty-five minutes later, I was there--almost to the summit. After that push, I was starving and so out of breath. The instructions gave me permission to spend thirty seconds (!) orienting myself before beginning the survey. As soon as I was breathing halfway normally (more like two minutes), I started the ten-minute site survey, identifying and recording every bird song I heard and its location. A hermit thrush, a Swainson's thrush's liquid, rising tones, black-throated blue warblers, and more, but no Bicknell's. When I finished, I realized I was having fun. I sat on a rock in the middle of the trail, surrounded by spruces and balsam firs. I chomped on a granola bar and wondered where the heck my graham crackers and almond butter went to. I also wasted valuable time pouring a half cup of coffee from my thermos. I sipped and looked off into the distance and marveled at the tinges of aqua appearing on the horizon.

Only then did it dawn on me to check my watch. 5:20 am. I gazed at the time, stupefied. I couldn't believe I had sat there ten minutes wasting all those minutes. It was as if someone else had done it.

I scampered off and reached the second, infamous Crane Mountain ladder with its 15 steps, screwed into a sheer rockface. Up I went (some people say it's scarier going down the ladder, but I think it's more daunting when you see that ladder going straight up the cliff.) Anyway, I had no time to think about it.

At station 2 I felt certain I wouldn't hear any Bicknell's. The spruce-fir cover at this location on the summit was not dense enough for a Bicknell's. No way. But I complied. I felt similarly at Station 3, which is near the overlook that looks down on Crane Mountain Pond.

This is a dreadful place to leave off. All I can say is I will be back with more soon.

What's Hot? Butterflies, Dragonflies, and Boreal Birds

Butterflies and Wildflowers Summer Solstice Quest
Wed. June 20 10am-1pm

Boreal Mountain Birding Adventure
Sat. June 23 8am-2:30 pm
No, this is not a weather post, though the weather has been unseasonably warm since early May. Gardening is so tough in the heat, but the bugs and the plants seem to love it.
Butterflies are everywhere now and the milkweed should be in full bloom by the weekend, perhaps earlier on southern-facing slopes. I've got all of my butterfly nets out of storage, have dug up my butterfly field guide, and am ready to go to my favorite butterfly haunts, one of which includes the meadows on our property.

And I've been amazed at the vast numbers and varieties of dragonflies and damselflies buzzing around. Thank goodness for them--they're chowing down on our bumper crop of mosquitoes. I've seen so many more varieties of dragonflies this year than last. Last year June was pretty much a washout--with many rainstorms, including one when eight inches fell.

Of course, birding is still in full swing. When we climbed Pillsbury Mountain and walked on the trail across the summit through the boreal forest very early Saturday morning, we heard more than a dozen Swainson's thrushes and two Bicknell's thrushes. We also heard a number of blackpoll warblers, though no boreal chickadees.

I've got to hike up Crane Mountain before dawn in the next day or so for Mountain Birdwatch--searching for Bicknell's Thrush, primarily, but also for Swainson's, blackpolls, and several other boreal birds.

Don't let the bugs keep you from enjoying late spring and early summer. From a nature point of view, this is the most exciting time of the year!

Off to the Hamilton County Birding Festival!

Mary Ellen Blakey and I are ready for the Hamilton County Birding Festival. If you're in the neighborhood this weekend, go to the website, and sign up for one of the trips. Mary Ellen and I have scouted all our trails, made note of all the obstacles, and we've rehearsed all the ways we'll take care of our birders when we lead them in to some of the choicest birdwatching spots in the southern region of Hamilton County. I'm so psyched!

Our Schedule:
Friday afternoon--Pine Orchard 5-mile trip (Bad thunderstorms are forecast for mid-afternoon. We'll be keeping an eye on the sky.)

Saturday morning 3:45 am Mary Ellen and I awaken. I think we're going to be setting lots of alarm clocks to make sure we get out of bed. Coffee, breakfast, then pile in the car to head to Pillsbury Mountain (elevation 3500+ feet). 5 am: We guide our birders up the mountain to the boreal forest (above 2800 feet). I'm hoping I'll see some boreal chickadees, gray jays, Bicknell's thrush, and why not a spruce grouse? Way cool.

Sat. 12 noon--Back in the car. Shove sandwich into mouth. Drive to our driving birdwatching safari on the ...woops! Mary Ellen knows the name of the road. One pm. We'll drive nineteen miles, stopping at various points to see what we hear and see.
6pm. I drive an hour to get home, asking Ken to meet me at The Black Mountain for dinner. Then home. Quickly throw Buzz Off Shirts into washing machine for Sunday's trek.

Sun. 6 am Wake up, and get my body in the car by 7:15 to drive the 75 minutes west to meet Mary Ellen and a group of eight for the hike in to G Lake. Not a long hike, but this is the place where the bugs will be ready to devour us. Lots of super No-Deet bug stuff for our clients.

Then at 1 pm, I will be on my way home to write about all our experiences. And maybe take a nap!

Even a Nature Girl Needs a Day in the City

When my birthday rolled around this year, I was perplexed about how I would spend it. Ken kept asking me what I wanted to do, and I kept shrugging, promising I would figure it out before it was too late to celebrate.

On Sunday morning I woke up, brewed myself a really strong cup of Green Mountain Roasters' Organic Rain Forest Blend (makes me think I can save the rainforests of Central America by drinking coffee), and sat on the couch with my laptop.

Suddenly it dawned on me that it would be great to go to a movie. After all, it's been almost two years since we've been to a genuine movie theater.

My web surfing revealed that there was not a halfway intelligent movie within sixty miles of us. So that led me to a search for a movie in Albany, and I quickly zeroed in on a theater that reminded me of one we loved in Boston. Spectrum 8 Theater in Albany shows a sophisticated blend of foreign, independent, and only the very best of Hollywood movies. And it has an acclaimed bakery and cafe next door. So we piled in to Hector (we've always named our vehicles) and headed south.

We saw a Dutch--German--Belgian--British film about Holland in World War II--The Black Box. It did not disappoint. Thrills, heroes and villains, and some romance. Perfect birthday material.

From Albany we drove to Saratoga Springs. We walked along Broadway, had a glass of wine at The Wine Bar (so elegant), and then to The Grey Gelding for dinner. There is no way to convey how dark it was in this restaurant. It was impossible to see people at the next table, or anything else, though there was a tiny candle shining through frosted glass on each table. The setting was unexpectedly romantic and we sat close, taking full advantage of the atmosphere. The food was excellent, though I could barely tell if my forkful held pasta or asparagus.

Then home to Sophie, who gave us the "Where the hell have you been?" greeting, and a walk in the moonlight.

Two good things about heat: It's great for getting a vegetable garden off to a roaring start and, if it stays hot, the black fly season may be shortened. Once the creeks, streams, and rivers heat up, the black flies are done for the season.

I hiked in to G Lake on Wednesday, accompanied by Mary Ellen Blakey, a wonderful guide whom I'm learning alot from. We were prepping the route for a birding hike we're leading for the Hamilton County Birding Festival. This trip is scheduled for Sunday morning, June 9, and, judging by our trip, the birding should be excellent. But what I was most thrilled about were the hatching dragonflies on the grassy shores of G Lake. I had never seen so many dragonflies in one place, and of so many different varieties. We both kicked ourselves for leaving our dragonfly field guides at home.

Third Annual Hamilton County Birding Festival June 1-3, 8-10, 15-17
Prior to this trip, Mary Ellen and I had only had a phone relationship. After all, she lives in Piseco, which is in the western Adirondacks, and I live in the eastern Adks. We bushwhacked through an extremely buggy, woodsy area, and then walked the shoreline of the Lake. When we came to the tip of a peninsula, we were surrounded by breezes, not bugs. We pulled out our lunches and Mary Ellen set up a small propane stove to make tea for us! I was impressed. Even though it was a hot day, the tea was an excellent pick-me-up. And there was something elegant about sipping tea in the wilderness like that...making me think that I should invest in a little stove. I bet my clients would enjoy a cuppa on a mountaintop or while sitting on a rock in the middle of the Sacandaga River.