Across the Continent (part 5 of 10)
Nome & the Seward Peninsula
5-7 June 2022
So I am in Nome in the early Alaskan spring, with a bunch of other crazy birders, looking for all manner of Alaskan specialties. This is a rite of spring here in Nome, better know as the terminus of the Iditarod Sled Dog Race, which winds its way in the height of winter from near Anchorage (now Willow) to Nome over a number of days. Nome is a quiet seaside Inupiat village on the south side of the Seward Peninsula.
adult male Bar-tailed Godwit, in breeding plumage, in the mouth of Nome River, south of town
One the shorebirds I was most interested in spending time with in Nome was the Bar-tailed Godwit (above), a close relative of my beloved Hudsonian Godwit... If you would like to see a knock-out photo of the species taken along the Teller Road this spring, go to: https://macaulaylibrary.
That sweet image was shot by John Garrett of the Cornell Lab... I found small groups of this remarkable long-distant migrant in the mouth of the Nome River, south of town. They would loaf about here in mornings... They were fairly shy, and I was never able to get particularly close to them. Hunting for them in the vast tundra expanses (both lowland and upland) I failed to encounter this species, instead finding Whimbrel to be the commonplace large shorebird of the tundra.
Arctic Tern hunting for dinner
Terns in the Nome area were also best found at the mouth of the Nome River. Here the Arctic Terns were abundant and the Aleutian Terns were fairly common. Of course, it was the Aleutian Terns that the peripatetic birders were after (myself included). This is one of the few accessible places on Earth where they can be found with ease...
Aleutian Tern pair, thinking about nesting
Aleutian Tern on the wing
Gulls were present, but not in big numbers, and they were not very approachable. The big surprise was that Glaucous Gull, the most common gull here, was quite skittish and never let me close enough to get a good photo. This was one of the Nome frustrations. I believe that because most everything is hunted for subsistence, all birds and mammals are leery of close approach...
Glaucous Gull adult, distant, as always
Safety Sound, twenty minutes south of town, was one of the birding spots where I would spend time at least once a day... It is scenic and open and birds are all about. The hunt for the rare eiders and Emperor Geese were the main pastimes... Most of the time we were frustrated.
kites in the wind, south of Nome Point, and the sparkling Bering Sea
Safety Sound is filled with little weekend and fishing houses owned by the Inupiat. They must have become inured to the annoyance of the ever-curious birders traipsing all about. All my interactions with local residents were pleasant....
American Tree Sparrow, a roadside songster (in a willow)
Driving south on the Council Road into the interior was a must. I did this twice. One crossed Safety Sound and then turned east into the hills, crossing several rivers. The roadsides in the interior were lined with low willows, alders, and birches. These roadside habitats were very birdy--with sparrows, warblers, and thrushes.
American Dipper, with a lunch of arthropods for the nestlings; the prey were taken from under water in a rocky stream of
the Teller Rd.
The tumbling rocky clearwater streams were home to the American Dipper, which I encountered once. This individual happily foraged the waters of the stony stream for aquatic invertebrates--capturing several and then transporting them back to its hidden nest.
Speaking of nests, the most famous one this spring was the Gyrfalcon nest under the bridge crossing the east fork of the Solomon River, about an hour's drive south of town. The three nestlings were white fluffballs, and the attending parent was a fierce-looking adult. Another Gyr nest was in a high cliff on the Kougarok Road. I saw 7 different Gyrfalcons on my visit to Nome (three youngsters, four adults). This is more than a lifetime worth of Gyrs....
The weather remains fabulous--no rain or fog on the latter days and deep blue skies and nice temps. Great birding weather... I had expected rain, fog, and cold.
Gray-cheeked Thrushes here were commonplace along the roadside thickets of willow and alder. It was a surprise not seeing them in the dark interior of a spruce stand...where one finds the closely related Bicknell's Thrush.
Arctic Warbler, having just returned from its wintering grounds in Java or Borneo.
Male Bluethroat, perched after completing a sky-high song flight above the Council Road
I find my first Arctic Warbler at Salmon Lake. It sang to beat the band. And it ignored me as I crept up to photograph it.
I found the male Bluethroat on the Council Road, below the high pass. It had set up shop in roadside willows, and did its display flight every ten minutes or so. It would spend more than a minute high in the sky, singing and fluttering about before returning to Earth. Both the Bluethroat and the Arctic Warbler were recent arrivals from Southeast Asia, where they had wintered...
Seward Peninsula tundra with rocky hills in background, and remnant snow drifts.
Every day I spent time walking the tundra. It was one of my favorite things. I hunted for butterflies, wildflowers, songbirds, and shorebirds. It was great walking country!
Arctic White Butterfly foraging in tundra.
Pacific Golden-Plover chiding me in the lowland tundra of the Teller Road where it would like to nest in peace.
On the 5th of June I reprised the trip to Bristle-thigh Ridge at milepost 82 on the Kougarok Road. I departed Nome at 4 AM and arrived at the high pass at 5:30am. It was a bright sunny day. I spent the entire morning on the Road and adjacent tundra. Then I slowly worked my way back to town.
Canada Lynx gives me a look.
At mile post 50, where the Snowshoe Hares were abundant, I glimpsed a Canada Lynx on the roadside, and spent five minutes with this gorgeous predator, who was undoubtedly there to feast on the hares. Lynx are not something you see every day. This encounter made it a Red Letter day...
Canada Lynx says "good bye."
This is what a boar Grizzly looks like when running for its life.
Driving westward back towards town, I stopped to photograph a Northern Harrier soaring over the tundra. The harrier's movement drew my eye to a large creature moving in the distance--on the other side of the tundra valley. It was a boar Grizzly, running speedily up along a creek. My first Grizzly of the trip! Why was it running? I was more than a kilometer from the beast. My best guess is that it was running from my car, which it recognizes as a mortal threat. Again, everything is hunted here on the Seward Peninsula...
Bristle-thighed Curlew strutting its stuff atop Bristle-thigh Ridge, 82 miles east of Nome town.
Of course, the prime target of my second trip out the Kougarok Road was the elusive Bristle-thighed Curlew. I spent 2.5 hours walking the high tundra of Bristle-thigh Ridge in the early morning, all alone. I had the ridge to myself. I found only American Golden-Plovers and Whimbrels. These are great birds, but not what I was looking for...
Bristle-thighed Curlew in the low tundra vegetation where it would like to nest...
My long walk back and forth across the open tundra was frustrating. Then I saw a birding group up atop the ridge, so I said to myself, "the birding groups know what they are doing." I hustled up to the group (it took me more than 20 minutes to get to them--distances are deceptive on the tundra). As I approached, I heard the tooee-tooee call note of the Bristle-thighed, so I knew I was on the right track.
The birding group was just about finished savoring the bird as I arrived at the group. The leader, who turned out to be Craig Robson (British author of the very fine Birds of Southeast Asia). He saw me approach, and said: "I am handing the bird off to you." I thanked him profusely and, as the tour group departed, I had my quarry in my sights... I had five minutes with this single individual, which eventually flew off, vocalizing. I heard both the song and the call--thrilling!
The Bristle-thigh, along the the Bar-tailed Godwit, is one of the great trans-Pacific travelers, spending the winter in the islands of the South Pacific. The curlew nests only in a handful of isolated interior locations in western Alaska. I had seen the species on a ball field in Oahu many years ago with a close birding friend, but seeing it on the breeding ground was special. Having to try twice to enjoy this experience made it all the more memorable...
Blog #6, featuring the far north of Utqiagvik (Pt Barrow) will be issued on 23 July...
Harlequin Ducks (2 male, 2 females) off Nome Point
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