One of the first real signs that the world might be returning to sorta normal this year was an email from Earthwatch announcing that their Following Forest Owls trip was on this year. Yes!! My friend and I did it in 2018 and 2019, and signed up for 2020 a week after we returned from the 2019 trip – but 2020 was… well, 2020. So when we got word we could science again, we signed up right away.
We made plans to head there a few days early for some birding on our own, booked a VRBO, booked flights, and two days after we booked the flights, Earthwatch had to cancel. They had put together good, thoughtful COVID protocols. Unfortunately, the Southwestern Research Station announced that they would not be reopening until at least June. The owl researchers may be able to salvage some of the field season, but Earthwatch wouldn’t be part of it. * sigh *
Our VRBO was non-refundable, so we decided screw it, we’re going anyway. A quick conversation and some online bookings later, we had a new trip plotted.
We flew into Tucson in the evening and spent the night at the LaQuinta airport hate. It’s a very basic place but it has this vacant lot out back that always yields some fun birds. We took a quick walk at sunrise and saw dozens of Verdins, some Black-throated Sparrows, Black-chinned Hummingbirds, White-winged Doves, Gila Woodpeckers, a Cactus Wren, a pair of Cardinals and a handful of House Finches and Lesser Goldfinches. No roadrunner this year, though we had seen and heard them on our previous visits. The nice surprise was a Vermillion Flycatcher working the parking lot of a business next door - we’d never seen one in town before. All this before we’d even had our coffee on the first morning.
We hit the road for Patagonia, and on impulse, detoured up to Saguaro National Park. Our timing was perfect – all the cacti were in bloom and they were beautiful. It wasn’t super birdy (it was mid-day and hot) but we did see a few, including one mystery “warbler” which may be my new nemesis bird. There’s a chance that it was a Grace’s Warbler but… we’ll never know. I have yet to see one.
After checking into our VRBO in Patagonia, we took a walk to Paton Hummingbird Center. In the 1973, Wally and Marion Paton bought the house and put up a few bird feeders, and then a few more. Over time, they opened up to the public and it became a stop for avid birders and tour. After the Patons passed away, their property was purchased by Tucson Audubon, American Bird Conservancy and Victor Emanuel Nature Tours. A few of nice sightings:
The Nature Conservancy’s Patagonia Preserve was still closed, thwarting plans to spend our second day there, so we headed out for the world-famous Patagonia Rest Area. None of the amazing rarities that this roadside pullout is famous for during our visit (really windy that morning) but it’s still fun to think of the possibilities that might await — especially if I was a more patient birder.
From there, we wandered some backroads to the south. Our route was slightly determined by the #1 Nemesis Bird — Montezuma Quail. Tucson Audubon’s guide book to SE Arizona said that the area’s oak hillsides were a good place for them, and they’d been reported on eBird recently, but they continued to evade us. We headed a little bit north on Highway 83 to Las Cienegas National Conservation Area, another suggested spot. No luck with the quail, but we saw several male Vermillion Flycatchers doing their display flights — an incredible bit of brilliant red aerobatic fluttering. That was worth the trip to Las Cienegas all by itself.
Back to Patagonia for another stop by Paton’s and then dinner on the patio of our rental. While we enjoyed our meal and wine, we saw others being fed as well — a Ladder-backed Woodpecker nest was right above the garden gate. The young were probably getting close to fledging; we could hear them calling clearly with every delivery and occasionally saw some small faces poking out of the hole. The nest was nicely obscured by leaves, but you can see one of the adults clinging to the hole right in the center.
We had a few nice morning-coffee birds there, too, most notably a Green-tailed Towhee who’d scruff around outside the window while our pot was brewing.
One thing we noticed about the patio was that there was a lot of whitewash on the pavers… a LOT. It was obviously washed away often, and just as obviously, um, reapplied.
There were also pellets in the mix so we had hopes that perhaps we’d catch sight of an owl or two in the canopy. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m pretty good at overlooking owls, but there really didn’t seem to be any up there. Maybe it was a plucking post or other nighttime hangout for owls? There had to be more than one because there was a lot of poop.
Just before sundown, our curiosity was answered. A turkey vulture glided in to the treetop and settled onto the branches, soon followed by another. And another. And another. And… at least 21 more after that. Yup, we were roosting beneath a vulture roost. In many locations, I imagine that vacationers might be put off by the thought, but it may be a net plus in Patagonia. A bonus was that as we watched the vultures fly over, we spotted at least two Zone-tailed Hawks among them.
After two nights, we had to move on but we had a quick walk to Paton’s and beyond. Although the Patagonia-Sonoita reserve was closed, it turned out there were some good trails that were open — had we checked the day before we could have had a nice hike. And it wasn’t just birds providing the awesomeness — we saw Javelina for the first time.
We made another stop at Las Cienegas en route to out next spot, and once again the Montezuma Quail proved itself a worthy adversary. There had been a few eBird reports but the birds were keeping themselves well hidden. (I had to keep reminding myself that as many times as I’ve seen California Quail, there are very few places that I’d absolutely guarantee I’d see them.) From there, we headed over Box Canyon Road to Madera Canyon and the Santa Rita Lodge.
We’d stayed at Santa Rita when we visited in 2019 and loved the creekside cabin. Morning birding with coffee or evening birding with wine — our back deck was an ideal way to surround ourselves with birds and birdsong. We’d even had trogons calling during coffee on our last visit. This time it was dry dry dry, and a rather different experience. Not a bad experience, just different. There were still many birds: Arizona and Acorn Woodpeckers, Hepatic, Summer and Western Tanagers, Black-headed Grosbeak, Mexican Jay, Broad-billed, Black-chinned and other hummers… like the one below.
There was one real treat for us — and for many other Arizona birders, by the looks of the crowds. A Berylline Hummingbird had shown up, something that happens a few times a year in the US. It was an unexpected lifer, and a very cooperative one at that. It had a favorite spot that it returned to repeatedly, right in front of a bench no less. She occasionally turned her back to us, showing off her brilliant purple upper tail.
The Lodge owner mentioned that an Elf Owl pair had returned to nest at his home and invited people to come by that evening to see if they’d make an appearance. The nest site is not visible from public property, which gives the pair a degree of privacy, and he laid out a few more rules (no flash photos, no calls, no lights) to keep the birds from feeling harassed.
We gathered at his home around 6:30 and kept our eyes on the hole as the sun dropped lower in the sky. He said the pair returned about three weeks later than usual this year; normally they’d have been incubating by the time we visited. He told us that the female was in the cavity, and normally headed out a bit before it got dark; sometimes the male would visit and call to her from nearby. That wasn’t happening. He speculated that perhaps the female was just starting to lay at last, so would stay in the nest while that was underway, or maybe she’d left to hunt earlier than usual. We heard a faint Elf call from in the nest — she was still there. As darkness descended, a small face appeared at the hole.
Shortly after that, the male arrived, dropped something off, and left immediately. She flew out a few minutes later. Both flew around the area and we all dispersed so that they could have their space. We went back over to the feeders, hoping to see a ringtail which sometimes comes by for a drink of nectar. No luck with that, but we did see several bats coming to the hummingbird feeders for a sip.
I suppose it goes without saying that even though there had been recent reports of Montezuma Quail in Madera Canyon, we didn’t see any.
We had just the one night at Santa Rita (all that was available with our last-minute plans), so we headed for our final stop — the area around Cave Creek Canyon, which is where we should have been that week. There were no rooms in Portal or Paradise (the two towns closest to the canyon) but we did find a room at the Mountain Valley Lodge in Rodeo, NM. (Rodeo is less than a mile across the border.) We had stayed there in 2007 and it was… interesting. The lodge has a new owner and he’s made it into a very comfy place. He has done some bird-scaping and has some nice water sources and plantings. (A resident pair of Bendire’s Thrashers were a real treat.)
After checking in, we headed toward Portal. We stopped on the way at the Willow Tank, a former stock pond, now maintained for wildlife. It seemed like a morning spot (and in fact a well known tour company had reported some good sightings that very morning) but even in the late afternoon we could see that it drew a nice mix of birds. The big treat for us here was a Lesser Nighthawk which flew from a nearby field and made a few passes over the road.
On to Portal and another yard/feeding station. I don’t know of other places in the country where people welcome strangers to their yard to hang out, but it’s definitely a thing in SE AZ. (Side note — the people running the feeding stations all seem to be incredibly conscientious about their cleaning. It can be very easy for disease to spread around feeders, which is why it is sometimes discouraged. Because everyone took cleaning seriously, these stations served as an oasis for birds rather than a health risk.) We went to a home that we had visited during our 2007 trip, and found it just as great as before. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many Western Tanagers at one time. They had a nice mix of birds — many of the by now familiar locals (grosbeaks and tanagers, white-winged doves, Mexican Jays) along with Scott’s Oriole, Pyrrhuloxia and Gambel’s Quail. No other quail though.
We picked up dinner to go from the Portal Store and noshed while we waited for the sun to set. As evening fell, we headed out to Cave Creek Canyon to see if we could find any of the owls that we should have been working with that week. We heard a few Elf Owls, and at least one Whiskered Screech Owl. We headed to one campground where Elf and Whiskeys had nested in previous years. Didn’t hear any but we did have a ghostly apparition hovering low in the road; when we got a little closer we realized that it was the very fluffy white tail of a skunk waving around and we scrammed.
The next day we hiked the South Fork of Cave Creek. Unfortunately, the creek was mostly dried up and bird activity was very low. The area had supported several pairs of Trogons when we were last there but this time there were only thought to be two. We spent a lot of time puzzling over flycatchers and remaining puzzled in most cases.
When we left, we drove past the shuttered Southwestern Research Station. Just as we got to the border of the property, a Coati crossed the road and ran down into the station. Cool!
We headed to higher elevations, on a quest for… you guessed it, Montezuma Quail. On our first owl trip in 2018, we had apparently flushed some as we drove to the high peaks but only the driver saw them. We headed up to Barfoot Park, a high elevation site where we’d done site surveys for owls. The first time we were there, a few years ago, it was miserably hot — compounded by the fact that we were scrambling over black, charred logs from a fire five years earlier. This time it was very chilly and our plan for a picnic lunch was thwarted by rain. (Much needed down there — no complaint!) We gobbled our meal in the car and then changed our plans again, heading to Paradise and looping through there on the way back to Portal. When we stopped at the Cave Creek Visitor Center that morning, the docent had given us a map of some good birding spots, including a couple of houses in Paradise. Might as well…
We stopped at the George Walker House, a place I’d tried to get a room — it was sold out, and once we got there I could see why. Very nice grounds, very friendly owner and some great birds. She ran a hummingbird banding station, and had been banding that morning… if only we’d known! She stepped away for a phone call so we headed down to her neighbor’s house, also on the map.
If we were excited by the coati at the research station, we were beside ourselves to see a mom and three young hanging out at this place. It’s a more expansive layout than others, and the three zones attract different mixes of birds. There are numerous brush piles to give birds shelter. Turns out the guy is a biologist, and had a lot of time to work on the property while all of the field work shut down during the pandemic. Just the conversation is worth making the stop. He has worked on some really cool projects and is currently focused on Long-eared Owls.
Among other interesting tidbits, he mentioned that he gets Montezuma Quail coming to his water source most evenings. If we’d like to come back later, we’re welcome to do so. Yes — yes, we’d like that. He said to be there by 6:00, and that once we arrived we had to stick around until either the quail show up or it gets too dark to see (no coming and going) and that we need to stay totally quiet. The quail are extremely skittish and will bolt at the least disturbance.
We ate our leftovers in Rodeo and then headed back. Three other people were also there. We talked for a few minutes while everyone settled in, and then… silence. We watched the sun’s glow fade from the peaks (the view at the very top of the page is what we were watching). We hear the Mexican Poorwills calling, and the flocks of finches depart the feeders for their sleep spots. The world is winding down. And then… he spots them. Silently, he beckons us to the scope he has trained on the water source. One by one, we get a glimpse of them. A male and female cautiously drink their fill and look around. They step away and begin walking toward us, then disappear into some taller grass. He reappears but the female is still hidden. And then they’ve both disappeared silently.
It was a really magical end to the trip. Two hours of quiet observation, capped by the sighting of the no-longer-a-nemesis. I really can’t think of a better way to see and appreciate a creature.
(I’ll add a few more photos in the comments.)