Thirty six years is a long time. A whole lot can change in the world in that wide expanse of time. Empires can rise and then fall, Sports teams can go from also-rans to dynasties and back again - 3 times, a millennial can already have had five different careers, Donald Trump can actually have made at least one truthful statement - or not. Thirty six years is a long time, it’s the number of years that have passed since Jeff Manker and I have done a big day together.
April of 1983 was our first attempt. Jeff had graduated from HSU the previous year and I had just finished at the end of the winter term. I flew to Southern California where Jeff met me at the airport and we spent the day on his home turf in Torrance where I had a chance to bird the marsh that he helped to preserve. The next morning we arose long before sunrise and travelled to the Salton Sea to start our big day. Although no record remains of how many species we saw that day it was memorable for the number of new species I saw, the great habitat we encountered, and the camaraderie. In addition to the Salton Sea we visited Anza Borrego, Mt. Palomar, and Carlsbad before calling it a day.
Fast forward thirty six years and we are at it again. This time the plan was to start on the northern edge of the Mojave and end up at Morro Bay. I drove from my home in Napa to Jeff’s in Corralitos where we shifted to his truck for the trip to the desert. Our drive took us over several roads that neither of us had traveled before. I dearly love to travel on roads not taken, I can always count on them to provide me with the feeling of a sense of discovery. Even when the road takes you somewhere you may not want to go the journey rarely is a disappointment. After crossing the Coast Range to the central valley we stopped at the Kern National Wildlife Refuge to scout it for the next day. As we moved further east through Bakersfield and then on up to Tehachapi the clouds were gathering and giving us some spectacular light shows as the sun dipped down towards the horizon in the west. We eventually parked ourselves at the Best Western in California City, scouted around for owls (none) and crashed for the big day.
Pre-dawn and a lot of snores later (on my part) we arose for the mad dash. We began in the parking lot with circling Lesser Nighthawks that had been there the previous evening and then made for Central Park across the street. This spot has long been recognized by birders as a migrant trap in the spring and we hoped to find some interesting birds here. It was a bit disappointing in that regard but we put together a good beginning with two species we would not see for the rest of the day - Yellow-headed Blackbird and Black-crowned Night Heron. From here we headed straight north on a county road hoping to find a Roadrunner pacing us in the scrub by the side of the road. No luck there and eventually we made our way to Red Rock Canyon State Park. We birded the area around the visitors center and it proved to be an excellent stop for us. The desert scrub was hopping and we picked up our Bell’s Sparrow and a Black-throated Sparrow as well as one of my two lifers for the day, a Willow Flycatcher. Perhaps our most interesting species was a family of Loggerheaded Shrikes that was frolicing in the Tamarisk trees around the visitor’s center. They were loud and proud and fun to watch.
After our successful stop at Red Rock Canyon we entered Jawbone Canyon and wound our way to Butterbredt Spring. It was turning into a glorious morning as we were right on the edge of the cloud line, we could see showers in the distance but the sun shown upon us and we were glad of it. Butterbredt Spring is one of those places that all birders know about even though it is officially not much bigger than an acre. It has long been managed by the Santa Monica Chapter of the Audubon Society and is a spring time gathering place for migrating birds after they cross the Mojave Desert and prepare to move north to their nesting grounds.
I first visited Butterbredt in April of 1983 and every time I have been there since there has always been something to see that has made the trip worthwhile. That first time it was a tree full of Long-eared Owls, the next sharing a sighting of a pair of Golden Eagles soaring overhead with my future wife, and so on through the years as I have brought my son here each of the last six springs to soak in the desert and welcome what it has to offer. For Jeff it was his first visit to this iconic location and it certainly didn’t let us down. The spring itself was hopping with warblers, vireos, thrushes, a Western Tanager and as we moved down into the Cottonwood grove we were greeted by a calling Great Horned Owl. We did not have time to hike any measurable distance down the wash but picked up a few other birds just below the cottonwoods. My surprise for this visit greeted us at the edge of the cottonwoods and only showed himself briefly, unfortunately too briefly for Jeff to get a look. It was a Black and White Warbler! I have not seen one of these since my trip to the East Coast in 1987 and he was a beauty. Later I found a photo on an e-bird checklist of what must have been the same bird taken the day before we were there. I was very disappointed that Jeff didn’t get a look as this would have been a life bird for him but that is the nature of birding. Sometimes you are lucky, most times you aren’t. I was fortunate to pick up one more life bird there. With Jeff’s help we were able to confirm a sighting of a Cassin’s Vireo. I think Jeff is a good luck charm for me as I can’t remember that last time I got 2 life birds in a day. One more sighting of note from Butterbredt was a Costa’s Hummingbird. What made this one significant is that my last sighting of this little fella was on our first big day 36 years ago.
We left Butterbredt and headed up the canyon hoping to find a Scott’s Oriole in the Joshua Tree forests higher up. No Orioles but we did pick up our Rock Wren for the day. We were headed to highway 178 and Beldon where we would see if the spring melt of the South Fork of the Kern River had abated enough to allow us entry into the the Audubon preserve there. No such luck. We had a few birds in the meadow leading to the entrance including our Trip-colored Blackbird and then headed to a spot on the preserve that is accessible from the road called “Migrant Corner.” Here we picked up a few more good birds including a soaring juvenile Bald Eagle. It was also at this spot that we had our only snake of the day, a pretty large California King Snake who was not interested in sticking around. Then it was back in the truck and around Lake Isabella (surprisingly quiet bird wise) and then up CA 155 to our chosen spot for mountain species, Greenhorn Mountain Park. As soon as Jeff got out of the truck he was calling out our targets as he found them, I could barely get my bins on one before he had another. “Mountain Chickadee, Dark-eyed Junco, Red-breasted Nuthatch, White-headed Woodpecker,” and then in a little bit more excited voice, “MacGillivray's Warbler!” That was fun, I had to work to get a good look as there was a pair of them but they were staying well hidden in the undergrowth and then finally a clear view of the two half moons around the eye. We thought about taking Rancheria Road from there back to Bakersfield but as we made the turn and saw the Forest Service sign indicating 49 miles to Bakersfield (mostly on dirt) we decided it would take us too much time so we went down the Kern River Canyon (got our Canyon Wren) and headed for Hart Park to get our Wood Duck and maybe a Rose-ringed Parakeet. Yes on the Wood Duck (barely), no on the Parakeet. I know where to find these guys in downtown Bakersfield but we needed to get to the Kern National Wildlife Refuge and we were running out of time.
We pulled into Kern National Wildlife Refuge at 3:45, definitely behind but not too worried about it. We took a turn around the tour route and picked up almost everything we saw here the day before with the exception of a Virginia Rail and Green-winged Teal. Highlights were the thousand or so White-faced Ibis, Swainson’s Hawk, American Bittern, Clark’s Grebe and a Say’s Phoebe. By now we were starting to get a little bleary-eyed and we knew that the race with the sun was on. We peeled out of the KNWR and headed west on Highway 46. We then took Bitterwater Valley Road, a road so small it had no center line, and when I say we took it I mean at about 75 or 80 on the straightaways. We were headed for Jan’s house. Jeff had met Jan and Lisa at a birding festival and they have gotten together several times for birding adventures since. When Jeff told Jan of our plan for a big day it was arranged that we would stop in on our way by as we headed for the coast. Jan’s house/ranch is just outside the town of Creston not far from the northern end of the Carrizo Plain and we were booking to get to her feeders and promised flock of Lewis’s Woodpeckers. As we flew across the plain on Bitterwater Valley Road we were traveling along a stream bed that had vertically cut and heavily eroded banks full of holes. In several places we saw stick nests perched on the banks and thought it to be the work of the many Ravens we were seeing. At one point Jeff mentioned that this would be a perfect place to spot a Prairie Falcon and I said that they would need some rocky outcrops to nest on and Jeff responded by pointing out several across the valley. Approximately five seconds later he was slamming on the brakes, the doors were flying open and we were both tumbling out of the truck because a Prairie Falcon had just flown across the road in front of us with something in its talons. Jeff got good enough views to see the black armpits and I got the scope on him as he sat on a fence post far across the valley but not too far away to tell what he was. I’d like to say that we took that sighting calmly but I’d be lying if I did. Of course by this time we were both a little bit loopy so we piled back in the truck to continue our race with the light. I dashed off a text to my wife telling her of our progress and our race and she sent me back three words. “Go! Go! Go!” We Went! Went! Went!
When we rolled into Jan’s driveway we both pretty much knew we weren’t going to make it to the coast before dark. We had 96 species and Jan was going to have to come through for us if we were going to break 100 for the day. We picked up two before we got to the front door - Western Bluebird and Lesser Goldfinch. Then once inside the house - Anna’s Hummingbird and Brown-headed Cowbird at her feeders. We made 100 without any seabirds! We waited watching the feeders while Jan’s friend Lisa drove over to join us for a trip over the hill to hunt for woodpeckers. We had a pleasant (if bumpy) ride over the hill and added Acorn, Nutall’s and Lewis’s Woodpeckers plus two more species and had an enjoyable time with Jan and Lisa as the sun dipped below the western horizon. We bid them farewell with promises to meet again and later heard that the Yellow-billed Magpie flew in just after we left. 105 birds and we’ll call it a day, except we didn’t. When we rolled into Morro Bay we went out to the jetty just in case and sure enough there was a Western Gull sitting on a rock in the light of one posts. I’m not sure, but I think he winked at me. Call it 106.
Needless to say Jeff and I had a great time. We haven’t seen each other much in the years since college but we slipped right back into the easy camaraderie that we shared in those earlier days. He is now retired from a career as a public school teacher (a career that I hope to retire from soon) and he is the President of the Monterey Bay Birding Festival. He birds now almost every day and remains a student of the natural world around him. I know that it will not be long before we are off on another adventure, I think its my turn to plan a route!
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