Something to grouse about (boo, bad title)

On Friday night, Konchog Norbu and I jumped in a pickup with our cameras, binos, and sleeping bags. We were headed down the highway to an area just south of Bannack, Montana to see another spring spectacle; Greater Sage-grouse on the lek. The notable birds seen along the way were Snow Geese and Western Meadowlark (ok, not so notable). Stopping in Dillon at the Safeway, we loaded up on provisions, which included a loose version of General Tso’s Chicken and a corn dog. Ah, the corn dog the birder’s best source of sustenance. The cornmeal, full of carbs, for energy, the meat (of mostly of unknown origin) and its protein for strength, the grease, the Godsend, for fluid movements in most birding situations, and the stick for fiber (I was hungry).

Arriving at the lek site, the air was cool and skies were utterly without clouds as Venus and Mercury rose and set rapidly in the western sky. Even though it was in vicinity of 9 PM, there was at least one grouse booming within a short distance. I said to Konchog, “There’s your lifer.” He replied, “I need to see it first.” “Looks like we’re sleeping in the truck.” We did not want to disturb the birds at all, so we sleep in the truck and talked in hush tones as sleepiness descended upon us. The sleeping bags were unpacked and laid over our remaining clothed bodies. The cold air, it dropped to 14 degrees that night, stung our noses, but I was warm under multiple layers of down. The short night’s sleep was interrupted by tosses and turns. We were too excited about the coming event to sleep deeply, and, maybe, trying to rest in a seated position was to blame a bit.

I awoke at 3:30 to what I that was fog. “Oh sh*t! How are we going see the grouse?” The “fog” turned out to be a healthy layer of ice that had formed on the inside of the vehicle. Rolling the window down, a starlight sky mixed with a faint booming in the distance.

We arose at 4:30 and began our vigil, and around 5:30, the first smudgy images emerged from the darkness. As the sun slowly rose, more and more grouse-like forms became evident. By 6:30, we were glassing up to 30+ Greater Sage-Grouse males as they strutted, occasionally chase one another, and boomed. Oh Lord, how they boomed. The orange-yellow skin of the vocal sacs flashed in the milky twilight.

Soon we were able to make out the flirtatious females as they inspected their would be suitors as the males give everything that they had in their individual performances. Two males in particular held central locations within the lek, and the females seemed to find them more desirable. Younger, weaker, or maybe just unlucky males were all around the lek. The lek itself was an area of short grass within a sea of sagebrush on an exposed ridge. This lek has been used historically by this population since at the 1960s, when it was documented, but it has, in all likelihood, been occupied for much longer than that amount of time.

We were held spellbound for the entire morning, and we commented more than once on how fortunate we were to be able to behold this species and their unique behavior in this scenic place. My camera was in near nonstop action. I was actually fearing for the shutter. I have never seen this lek or any other with so many grouse. It was very encouraging to see, but I had to temper my excitement with the knowledge that the overall numbers are still declining. But, maybe this was a hopeful sign of better days ahead for these imperiled animals.

The action waned as the clock neared 9 AM. One grouse would blast off and fly over the sagebrush steppe, and then another would soon follow. Soon there where only a few males left on the lek. They were obviously tired as they laid on the ground and booming became less frequent. Then a single female wandered through the lek, and the remaining boomers perked up one more time and the show was on again. Like a teenage tease, she got the boys worked up, only to fly off seemingly unimpressed. Finally, one grouse was left exhausted and alone, and, then, he too lifted off and flew toward Reservoir Creek. Maybe he needed a drink.

As we left the lek, we stopped at an area of taller sagebrush, and the season’s first Sage Thrasher sang from the upper reaches of the aromatic plant. His song seemed to incorporate elements of the Western Meadowlark, a Mimidae species indeed. How I love sagebrush – the smell and look ooze the feeling of the Old West. We even crushed the leaves for the unique smell, and I noticed a difference between the aromas of older and younger sages. Maybe my nose from beer tastings is getting developed and picking up nuances of smell, and Konchog’s coffee nose was working in the same manner. On another botanical note, I did find a couple of Spinystar cactuses (Coryphantha vivipara), and, man, was I remiss in not taking a picture. Baldy Mountain loomed snow-capped in the distance as traveled toward Bannack.

Now for the historical portion of trip. We roamed the grounds of the Bannack ghost town. We talked about Road Agents and Vigilantes, those groups of renegades who were also lawmen and vice versa that saw to several years of bloodshed in the region. Some of their withering bodies lie to the Bannack cemetery after they found themselves on the business end of a rope. Wandering into the buildings and peering through the distorted windows, I thought about how hardy those folks must have been and their courage to shrike out for riches in this remote place. Most found poverty, prostitution, and failure as with most mining boom towns. The grounds were also very birdy. Do you think that we quit birding? C’mon man! There were many Dark-eyed Juncos, Song Sparrows, Northern Flickers, Downy Woodpeckers, and the spring’s first Spotted Towhee. For splash of color, quite a few Mountain Bluebirds were making the dilapidated buildings perches for their singing.

By noon, it was time to head toward home with a few more birding stops along the way. We had got word of a Burrowing Owl near Dillon through the Montana Online Birding group, and after a few calls, we had precise directions to the bird and its burrow (thanks Dr. Kirkley). When we first drove to burrow, there were two little brown owls standing outside of the burrow. One flew off and landed a short distance away. The lone creature was the most cooperative little owl has it guarded its burrow – its sanctuary.  Later on, we made our way to Birch Creek, which was the location of my research in college. Talk about the way back machine. I was remembering everything about the project, and, probably, bending Konchog’s ear about it. You know it’s a good study when it takes two breathes to just say the title (available upon request).

From Dillon to Twin Bridges, we went over the pass from Virginia City to Ennis, and we ended our day at Ennis Lake. The amount and diversity of waterfowl was stunning. We had first of year Osprey, Common Loon, and American White Pelican sightings. We even talked about the lack of Killdeer on this trip, and then 3 were within 20 meters of us at the Meadow lake Fishing Access.

We arrived home tired and road weary, but the trip was everything that I had hoped it could be, and Konchog was able to pick up two lifers (Greater Sage-Grouse and Burrowing Owl). The only dips of the trip were the remote possibilities of Sage Sparrow and Long-billed Curlew. I am deeply appreciative and grateful to seen these wonderful birds and to have the great company.