I’m am loving these birding adventures.
________________________________
From: tn-bird-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx <tn-bird-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> on behalf of
Chad Smith <kingbird09@xxxxxxxxxxx>
Sent: Thursday, August 29, 2019 3:16:11 PM
To: tn-bird@xxxxxxxxxxxxx <tn-bird@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
Subject: [TN-Bird] Terry's Top Ten Thread, continued...
I'm inspired enough by Terry's post to do this. Since I don't get out like I
used to, this is likely my testament to the best birding days I had.
1) I went to AZ with Terry in December 2013, and our first stop was "The
Thrasher Spot" near Buckeye. This was his fourth attempt to get Le Conte's
Thrasher, which he called one of his nemesis birds. Just a little way from the
car, I saw a bird running on the ground, and I hollered back at Terry that I'd
found one. The bird was stealthy, and easy to lose in the bushes, but I was
able to steer it on a roundabout course until it crossed in front of Terry.
Our first bird of that trip was in the bag, and I was especially happy to have
been able to help my friend get that monkey off his back.
2) It was April 2011. I'd been hoping to find something really cool since I
started birding. The usual stuff was interesting, but I needed to discover
something on the next level. What better place than Discovery Center? It's a
nice little swamp in the middle of Murfreesboro. That's the place where I met
Terry, and saw lots of good birds over the years. Anyway, I was walking the
boardwalk one evening, carrying a big lens and tripod, thinking I needed to
find something amazing, like a rail. Man, I wanted to see a rail. Instantly,
it was as if the birding gods heard me. I saw this little gray bird walking
across the vegetation right next to the boardwalk. It had a yellow bill, a
black mask, and best of all, a little upturned tail. That thing cast a spell
on me. Watching that Sora strut around like a little chicken, using those long
toes to stay on top of everything, I was fascinated. Been a fan of rails, ever
since.
3) It must've been Spring 2011 when Terry and I were at Reelfoot one morning.
There was an ocean of lily pads in front of us. Some movement in the shadows
to the right caught our eyes, and Terry played the Least Bittern call. Soon
after, two faint shadows were moving toward us, and I recall how sneaky they
were. Suddenly, one bird was hanging on a stalk, just peeking out at us, and I
said (in a thick Russian accent), "I see you, Meester Son of a Beech." Terry
and I had been talking about movies, and we'd always laugh and imitate
characters. This was an imitation of the Malkovich character in Rounders. We
laughed so hard I nearly burst. Terry was cracking up and said, "I see the
little son of a beech!" We could not stop laughing. Times like that made some
of the best memories.
4) I went to Ecuador in October 2015. This was something I decided to do by
myself, with only a pathetic Spanish vocabulary, and the guys I was meeting
spoke no English. It's probably one of the craziest things I've done, but we
got along great. I stayed mostly with Rodrigo Paz at the Refugio Paz de las
Aves, and he took me out every day. I'd been to Thailand and seen some pittas,
and now I wanted to see some antpittas. Giant Antpitta was the one I wanted
most, and one day Rodrigo had run out of worms, so he left me in the jungle
while he went to find some. I was sitting there, all alone, when a Giant
Antpitta came and hopped all around me. I just sat there with the bird I'd
come to see, hanging out like we were best friends. Nobody out there but us,
until Rodrigo returned. That was pretty awesome.
5) One day in Thailand, a guy was taking me out to try photographing
Ferruginous Partridge. The birds hadn't been seen for a while, so we didn't
have a lot of hope. The trail was long and winding through jungle frequented
by elephants and cobras. We managed to get to the spot and set up blinds.
While sitting there, I could hear elephant noise, like trumpeting, splashing,
and breaking trees. As long as my guide stayed put, I would, too. We sat for
hours until eventually, heavy clouds darkened the sky, thunder rolled, and the
darkness under the canopy grew very dark. At that moment, two of the most
beautiful birds I've ever seen came sneaking out into the open. They looked
like two orange Nerf footballs. Couldn't believe we were actually getting to
see them, though the light was so bad, photography would be tough. Not long
after, the bottom fell out of the sky. We made our way out of the jungle
through sheets of blinding rain, sliding through mud and deep puddles of
flowing water (glad I remembered to bring a garbage bag for the camera and
lens, because I ran into a couple of guys later who were pouring water out of
theirs). Drenched and sitting back in the vehicle, I asked the guy about the
elephants. Should we have just stayed still under the blinds if they'd come up
behind us? The response was, "No. They are smart. They know you're under
there, and they will kill you." Jeez, that's good to know. Thanks for the
info, after the fact. He said he'd have told me to run, if necessary, so maybe
I'd have had a fighting chance. I then got to hear a bunch of horror stories
about elephants, which I won't soon forget.
6) Maybe this is clear already, but I like fat, sneaky, shy birds on the
ground. They are my favorites. Not only are they usually beautiful, but I
enjoy the behavior, and the difficulties that come with it. One evening in
April 2012, Terry and I were driving the road through Black Canyon of the
Gunnison in CO. Our target was Dusky Grouse. I've always taken pride in being
able to spot things that are hard to see, and this was one of those moments.
As we rounded a curve, I had a brief glimpse of what I thought was the top of a
head in the brush. We doubled back, and it turned out I was right. The grouse
was doing his mating display, crouching low and making a barely audible,
low-frequency humming noise. I was beyond happy to have found our bird,
especially one that behaved in a way most people probably never see. Of
course, my bubble deflated when on the way out, another grouse was standing by
the road, almost as if waving goodbye to us.
7) One spring day, back when I was new to birding, I was riding around west TN
with Terry. It wasn't an uncommon feat in those days to add 15 or more lifers
in one day. I'd found an American Avocet that morning, which I thought was
beautiful and figured to be the best experience of the trip. That afternoon,
we were slowly riding along a road with the windows down when Terry hit the
brakes and said, "I don't believe it!" He picked up his binoculars, and I
looked where he was looking. It was difficult to hear the singing, but I could
see the bird flitting around in there. Turns out that Terry had found Bell's
Vireo. I was very impressed. Back then, birding was just a visual game. This
showed me how important it is to use your ears.
8) I went to Finland in April 2016, wanting to see Black Grouse and Western
Capercaillie. The Black Grouse were no problem. The capercaillie were not
showing up at the blinds. Guys sat out all night and froze, only to receive no
reward in the morning. Supposedly, capercaillie is a very shy forest bird.
Not my experience, at all. Our group was standing by a road one evening, when
all of a sudden, this huge black thing came out of the woods with its tail
fanned. It threw back its head, making nonstop noise like some '80s rap record
scratching. The bird looked mean and was definitely aggressive. Our guide
used a pine branch to keep it at bay. He showed us beak-shaped scars on his
arm where he'd been attacked before. Then, one guy stumbled and fell backward
in the snow. The bird was on him in a second. A flogging ensued as the guy
tried desperately to kick and fight the bird off. The guide rescued him, and
we all got out of there. Next day, everyone else wanted to go try for eagles,
but I wanted more crazy capercaillie. A guide took me back to the spot, where
the two of us put on snowshoes, then went walking in the woods. Somehow, we
relocated the bird, and a running battle was initiated. We'd back up through
deep snow, and the bird would constantly press toward us. I never thought
photographing something could be so easy. Usually, you have to try not to
scare something off, but this was the complete opposite.
9) Sticking with the grouse theme, I'll always remember the first I ever saw.
On that CO trip in April 2012, Terry and I were looking for sage-grouse. We
couldn't find the spot. We cruised up and down a road where we thought the
birds should be, but no luck. As the morning wore on, desperation kicked in,
and Terry tried an alternate road. As soon as we topped a hill, there were
lots of grouse ahead, dancing around in the snow. It was quite the
breathtaking scene, with these endangered, beautiful birds displaying on a
frozen field before a range of snowcapped blue mountains. I was awestruck. To
this day, it remains one of the best (if not the absolute best) experiences
I've had in birding.
10) I'll never forget the first time I went to the Smokies for the purpose of
birding. I'd discovered this new thing in Spring 2009. When I got the first
bird book, I wondered why I never saw any of this stuff, all my life. It
became a treasure hunt. At Sugarlands, I bought a little book titled, "Birds
of the Smokies." I took it on a mission, following its advice. At the creek
behind the visitors center, I found my first Louisiana Waterthrush, bobbing its
tail. It was enchanting. Looking through binoculars opened up this whole new
world I'd somehow never noticed. The excitement gave me a rush I hadn't had in
years. I found a Yellow-throated Warbler in the treetops of the Sugarlands
parking lot. Up the mountain, I stopped at places along Clingman's Dome Road.
Black-throated Blue Warbler, Brown Creeper, Golden-crowned Kinglet... I could
not believe what I was seeing. When I located a beautiful male Canada Warbler
right in front of me in the fog, I knew this was going to be an obsession that
would last a long time. A lady and her husband were photographing wildflowers
at one of the pullouts. She saw me with binoculars and asked what I was
seeing. Then, she asked if I knew what bird was singing. I didn't. She told
me it was a Winter Wren. OMG! What a song! That ongoing series of trills and
tinkling bells or whatever just blew me away. Still one of my favorites. I
rarely come up with nicknames for birds, but this tiny bird with the big voice
became: The Wizard. Fate would eventually bring Terry Witt into my life, but
during this period of development on my own, I was learning what I could. When
I finally started going out with an experienced birder, it was like the
floodgates opened.
So, that's nothing like Terry's worldwide adventures, but these are things that
stay with me, to this day.
