Blog 6: Southeastern Arizona:
Portal and Cave Creek Canyon and North Texas
3-9 May 2023
After giving a talk to the Maricopa Audubon Society in Scottsdale,
Arizona, I spent the night at the home of my Audubon Society host in Tempe, Elias
Esquier. My host was a language expert and we spent a lot of time talking about
local and indigenous languages in the Region.
The next morning I breakfasted with my cousin Cita and her husband Irwin on a sunny patio at the beautiful Camelback Inn. Mid-morning headed eastward through the Arizona mountains on backroads, through Globe, Cutter, Peridot, Bryce, Pima, and Safford. Passing through Safford, I could see mighty snow-capped Mount Graham to the southwest of town. Mount Graham hosts an astronomical observatory and is also the home of an endemic subspecies of Red Squirrel. Amazing to see snow in southern Arizona in May.
From Safford I headed due south to Portal, the tiny town that provides access to the Chiricahua Mountains and Cave Creek Canyon.
Southeastern Arizona is a famous birding hotspot, bordering Sonora,
Mexico, and southwestern New Mexico. The mountains and canyons of the region
harbor numbers of Mexican bird species that only be found in the US in this
little corner of the birding world.
As a result, the area in spring is infested with swarms of eager
birders, most of whom are seniors who have the time and resources to visit this
isolated spot in order to add to their birding life lists. In early May the
little hotels and lodges and campgrounds were filled to the brim. Birders
everywhere (not unlike High Island).
I spent three nights camped in the Idlewilde Campground, nestled
deep within a narrow canyon through which flowed the chilled clear waters of
Cave Creek. I set my tent at the top of the campground, beside a house-sized
boulder that had dropped from the steep and colorful cliffs that rose above the
campground on both sides of the creek.
As I set up my tent I was serenaded by a male Hepatic Tanager who had selected my campsite as his breeding territory. He was here, singing, every day.
Given how parched and desert-like the flat land I had just driven through, it was refreshing to be under a thick canopy of oaks and by a noisy mountain stream with cool drinkable water in abundance. No wonder the birds loved it here. It is magnificent!
Here at the base of the mountains, I was at 4,750 feet elevation. The summit of the range tops 9,700 feet. A forest service road to Rustler Park would take me to 8,000+ feet. Nice to be in the uplands! I was told by Elias Esquier, who had hosted me in Tempe for my talk, that the name “Chiricahua” is an Opah-tah name that means “mountains of the Wild Turkeys.”
The name was apt, as I saw and heard Wild Turkey frequently here in this beautiful green space.
As the sun set, it struck the high cliffs of the canyon, lighting them with color.
Every bend in the road offered a different view of rocky
heights.
One of the most common birds in Cave Creek Canyon was the
Mexican Jay. Family flocks of 8-9 would descend on my campsite every morning
and evening, looking for handouts. They were beautiful and confiding and filled
with personality. And they were noisy!
My first morning in Cave Creek Canyon I biked up the road, looking for birds. Aside from the turkeys, I found a Painted Redstart in song.
Also a vocal Black-headed Grosbeak.
A bit later in the morning, I visited Cliff Rodriguez’s bird
feeders, just outside of Portal. Mr. Rodriguez was one of several landowners
who had set up permanent bird feeding stations for visitors, who pay a small
fee for the pleasure of sitting and watching as birds of all sorts come in to
feed.
Walking in from the parking lot I found a singing Bell’s Vireo.
Gambel’s Quail came to forage in pairs.
Bullock’s Oriole came for nectar and fruit.
Crissal Thrasher took seed from a hanging feeder.
Curve-billed Thrasher foraged on the ground for scattered seed.
Harris’s Antelope Squirrel, looking like an oversized
chipmunk, was a new mammal for me, but went unphotographed (darn!).
On my second morning I made my way up to the top of the forestry
road at Rustler Park, where large stands of giant Ponderosa Pines formed
beautiful mountaintop parklands.
Up top, the Yellow-eyed Junco was the most common of the
sought-after montane Mexican species. I found it everywhere, foraging at the
roadside.
Another birder, sharper-eyed, pointed out a Zone-tailed Hawk soaring overhead, looking like a vulture.
Other target species included Mexican Chickadee, Red-faced Warbler, and Olive Warbler (the last now being sequestered in its own family, the Peucedramidae).
I hunted for these three, finding instead other nice birds: Grace’s Warbler and Black-throated Gray Warbler. I finally heard the trilled, wren-like song of the Olive Warbler coming from some small pines.
I spent about ten minutes admiring this unusual bird as it foraged among the pine needles.
I slowly descended the rough unpaved road, stopping to search for the chickadee and the Red-faced Warbler. Neither species showed itself. I would have to come back to search for them again another year.
On my last afternoon in the Canyon, I was able to track down a calling Elegant Trogon, one of the prized birds here.
On the 6th of May I needed to begin my drive back
home. This would be a serious four-day effort, each day more than 500 miles. This
first day of driving took me along back roads through desert across New Mexico
and into northern Texas. I picked up two nice birds along the way: Scaled Quail
and Chihuahuan Meadowlark.
I arrived at Caprock Canyons State Park, in Quitaque, Texas, at 8 PM. This is a bit southeast of Amarillo. I was now in well-watered agricultural country, the desert left behind. A Bobcat leisurely crossed the road in front of my car as I drove through the little town with the unusual name. The state park featured a patch of moonscape-like canyon country of bright red clay, quite picturesque, lit by the late afternoon sun. The birding highlight was a calling Burrowing Owl, which I never saw. I had never heard the voice of a Burrowing Owl before, so this was a treat (I identified it using the Merlin app).
On the 7th of May I drove north and east through Oklahoma, ending my long day of driving at Norfork, Arkansas, right on the main stem of the White River. I spent the night at the getaway home of Gary Graves, Curator of Birds at the Smithsonian. Warblers sang in nearby woods. Northern Arkansas is rural, green, and beautiful. The White River cuts through hilly country, forming tall bluffs—perfect country to situate a retreat.
On the 8th of May I continued my drive eastward:
Arkansas, Missouri, Illinois, and finally Kentucky. I encountered many box
turtles crossing the roads in southern Missouri. I crossed the Mississippi and
the Ohio Rivers in short order in southernmost Illinois, on two ancient and narrow
trestle bridges. I spent the night in Louisville with Chuck Burg, who I had
worked with at the Smithsonian and at Conservation International. Chuck and his
wife Jessica had recently translocated from DC to Kentucky. Warblers were
passing through town, and Chuck pointed out good birding sites as we walked to dinner
at a nearby restaurant.
On the last day of the journey I drove through Kentucky,
West Virginia, and Maryland to my home, arriving in the mid-afternoon. Stopping
at highway rest stops, I heard the songs of Kentucky Warbler and Hooded Warbler
coming from woods backing the rest stops. These were the last sweet highlights
of my birding adventure.
Final trip mileage: 6,279 miles. States driven through: 17.
My next blogs, to be issued in early June, will feature
Esker Lakes Provincial Park, northeastern Ontario.
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