Bird #562 — California Quail

callipepla (from kallos, beautiful, and pepla, robe) californica (California)

Vernal, Utah — Ashley Nature Park

Tuesday, June 15, 2021 — 7:37 pm

The main range of the California Quail includes California, Oregon, and parts of Washington, Idaho, and Nevada. There are scattered populations in Utah that may be introduced. Even though it’s a common bird, I’d never seen one because I haven’t spent a lot of time birding in its range.

On Tuesday, we toured the Colorado portion of Dinosaur National Monument. We spent the night in Vernal, Utah. On the north side of town, California Quails are reported almost daily, especially in a small nature park. I dropped my wife off at our hotel and headed over to the park, a drive of about 10 minutes.

The park is covered with scruffy brush and cottonwood trees. I walked slowly, listening for scuffling in the brush. On the other side of the border fence, there was an open area with scattered bushes. I spotted a quail running across the area, hightailing it for the woods. I managed one quick photo — good enough prove I saw the bird, but not at all satisfying.

I continued wandering. I think I may have caught glimpses of a few; it’s hard to say. I headed back toward where I saw the first one. A male was out in the open, picking at the ground just beyond the fence. I crept closer, looking for a place to get photos through the fence. Just when I was getting to a good place, a couple walked by talking. The bird ran off. The guy knew they had disturbed me. He asked, “What was it? Quail?” I nodded. He shrugged — it was no big deal to him. He lives there. But it was a lifer for me.

No problems. The quail quickly reappeared, further from the fence but in the open where I could get some decent photos.

I watched it for about 10 minutes. I was amused by the way its topknot bounced up and down as it walked. I imagine having that constantly in your peripheral vision would get old. The quail gradually moved further away to where tall grass and weeds blocked my view. It was also getting close to sunset, so I headed back to the hotel.

In the morning, we drove to the Utah unit of Dinosaur National Monument. I decided to take back roads, and I soon spotted a pair of California Quail foraging along the edge of a driveway. I made a quick U-turn so my wife could see them and so I could get some photos. This was a challenge — the birds move constantly with jerky movements.

The female was browner and had a smaller topknot.

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Dinosaur National Monument — Day 1

The Colorado section of Dinosaur National Monument doesn’t have any dinosaurs. It doesn’t have a lot of visitors either. For the four hours we were in the park, we probably saw eight other vehicles (not counting park vehicles or the three ambulances that were rushing into Echo Park as we were driving out).

The afternoon was hot, but a breeze and low humidity kept it from being oppressive as long as we didn’t just stand still in the sun. I asked a ranger in the visitor center how we could see the famous Steamboat Rock, a narrow, high peninsula formed by a bend in the Green River. She showed me the road on a map, but she urged us not to take it unless we had a car with high clearance.

We drove north along the paved road, stopping at all the overlooks. It’s certainly a beautiful area, with red and white cliffs and green sage plains and pinyon/juniper woods.

At one of the stops, I saw a Black-throated Gray Warbler, the first I’ve seen on its summer habitat (rather than in migration).

We were in no hurry. At a few of the northernmost stops, we could look down on Steamboat Rock and Echo Park. The yellow arrow in the photo below points to the rock. The red arrow points to three cottonwood trees that serve as a point of reference for later in my story.

Here’s a zoomed look at the rock and the trees.

Impressive, but not the look I was hoping for. I decided to make the drive down. My wife was nervous about our car, but I promised that if we got to a place that was too rough, I’d turn around. As it turned out, the dirt road was steep and narrow, but well-maintained. There were maybe three places where I slowed to maneuver around holes or rocks, but even those places weren’t worrisome. The scenery was stunning, and the solitude made it even better.

It was 12 miles from the paved road to Echo Park, and there wasn’t a foot of it that wasn’t beautiful. Free range cows were hanging out in the trees, and we’d occasionally get a quick glimpse of them as we drove by.

Here’s some video of our drive down into the canyon, seen through our bug-splattered windshield.

Even the park itself wasn’t crowded. Maybe half a dozen people were camping in the campgrounds. A large group of rafters came down the river and pulled out in the park, but what little contact we had with them was pleasant. We parked and walked to the banks of the river to enjoy the view. And what a view it was. The Green River wraps around the rock. The Yampa River flows into the Green just to the east of where I took these photos. (It flows through the gap in the wall on the right in the second panorama.)

We weren’t in a hurry to leave, but it was hot in the sun. We walked about a quarter mile along the bank and stood in the shade of those three cottonwoods we’d earlier seen from the cliffs high above.

This was our view from that point.

It was hard to leave. When we finally did, we made a couple stops on our way back up to civilization. The first was to see some Indian petroglyphs.

It’s believed the carvings were made by the Fremont people about 1,000 years ago. Today, they are 35 feet up the canyon wall, far out of reach, but an interpretive sign said that’s where the floor of the canyon was then. Makes the evolutionists’ claim that it takes millions of years to carve canyons seem a bit silly, but we knew that already. The sign said these are “human-like figures, each with what appear to be elaborate headdresses or necklaces,” but I’m not seeing it. How do we know it’s not just 11th-century graffiti?

We also stopped to see the Chew Ranch. The Chews settled here in 1910 in a sod house. They build the frame house in the 1940s and sold out to the National Park Service in 1966.

We drove out of the canyon and on to Vernal, Utah. We stayed at the Dinosaur Inn, which was pleasant enough. Supper was pizza at a not-terrible place connected to the hotel.

With the successful search for wild horses, the stunning and unexpected adventure in Echo Canyon, and my first ever California Quail (next post), this was a great day.

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Sand Wash Basin Wild Horses

We ate breakfast at a restaurant in downtown Steamboat Springs and then headed west toward Dinosaur National Monument. We stopped at McDonald’s in the town of Craig to buy drinks. As we waited, an old guy began talking to me like we were best friends. (This has been happening to me a lot more often lately, for some reason.) Perhaps I’m old.

Anyway, he told me that he was on his way to Jackson, Wyoming and was sorry he hadn’t seen the wild horses — he’d just heard there was a refuge nearby but didn’t have time to go. I didn’t know about the horses either, but I looked them up and saw we’d pass within 23 miles. We decided to go for it.

Sand Wash Basin Herd Management Area is operated by the Bureau of Land Management. It’s huge — 156,500 acres — and consists mostly of sage plains and sand. The road through the center of the area is well-maintained dirt. In the hour and a half we spent there, we saw two campers parked in the middle of nowhere and zero people.

At first, we didn’t see any horses. I finally picked out a white one in the distance and pulled onto a rutted track to see if we could get closer. It wasn’t long before the ruts got deeper. It was a long, hot walk if we got stuck, so I turned around. Back on the main road, we finally saw a herd of about 12 off in the hazy distance, but it wasn’t a satisfying view. We kept going.

I picked a butte in the distance and told my wife I’d turn around there. We were about half a mile from it when I spotted a herd of maybe 25 out on the plains. I saw another two-rut track heading in their direction, and in spite of the protests of my wife I turned onto it. This one was in better shape, although the sage brush scraping against the underside of the car was disconcerting. After maybe a half mile, we got close to the horses.

Four of them were within 30 yards of where we stopped. The others were off in the distance. We couldn’t have wanted better looks. But here’s the thing. It’s really cool knowing that you’re looking at wild horses, but when all is said and done, they just look like horses.

On our way back along the ruts to the main road, another six popped up from somewhere. I thought the gray one with the white patches in the above photo was unique looking. We called it a day and headed on our way.

I found out later from reading the brochure that I wasn’t supposed to pull off the main road. Oh well. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have, but we wouldn’t have had nearly as good a time.

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Vacation Day One — To Steamboat Springs

This day didn’t go as planned. We wanted to drive to the top of Mount Evans, but I didn’t check the web site until we got to Idaho Springs. Turns out they have a reservation system because of all the people (zero) who caught Covid at 14,000 feet. The earliest reservation they had for today was 2:00 pm. We decided not to wait.

We made a quick plan B to head up to Arapaho National Wildlife Refuge to look at Moose. We saw some birds and some pleasant scenery, but no Moose.

We got to Steamboat Springs much earlier than we’d planned. We happened upon a local diner that had decent hamburgers. We sat in the shade on the outdoor patio — I’d managed to choose a week of very hot temperatures for our vacation.

Somewhere along the way, I decided I wanted a cowboy hat, so we went to F.M. Light & Sons and made it a reality. My wife suggested I get a white one since that’s the color the good guys wear, but I believe in truth in head gear …

We got to our tiny (but clean and comfortable) room at the Rabbit Ears Hotel mid-afternoon. It’s named after a mountain that we passed earlier in the day that has two squared-off peaks that stick out above the trees and look nothing like rabbit ears.

I went wandering and found a trail along the Yampa River. Many people were hiking, biking, floating, and sunbathing, but I managed to find some birds and got my walking in for the day.

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Birding Southern Colorado

I drove south to the tiny community of Pryor to look for a Hepatic Tanager in the same spot where I saw my lifer (and only, to date) one a couple years ago. Other birders have reported it from there lately. I wandered the area for about an hour and a half and didn’t get a hint of it. I did make friends with a Northern Mockingbird that sat in a small tree and sang quietly to me.

I drove the back roads in the area to see if anything else interesting was around. I didn’t se much besides an impressive view of Spanish Peaks.

When I got back to my original spot, there was another birder there looking for the tanager. He hadn’t seen it. He suggested I try the other spot where he’d had good luck—and then he gave me directions and a description of the exact spot where we were standing. I looked on eBird to see if there was another place where the bird had been seen lately—and there wasn’t. I was at the only spot, and so was he. I have no idea what he was thinking and couldn’t help wondering where he thought he was.

From there I drove to Pueblo Mountain Park where Grace’s Warblers are supposedly resident. I’d only seen one of those too. I hiked and drove around the park for about three hours and again didn’t get a hint of one. I did have an interesting experience. I hiked the Devil’s Canyon trail and came to a narrow spot where a small waterfall filled a notch between two cliffs. There was clearly no trail through the area, but there was also clearly not enough room for the trail to go elsewhere. I checked the map and saw that the trail was marked through the canyon, so I gingerly edges along one wall, depending entirely on hand-holds to keep from falling. Had I slipped, I would have slid down the steep rock wall to the waterfall. At worst, I probably could have broken a leg or sprained an ankle—my life probably wasn’t in danger. But getting out of there would have been a challenge with a bum leg. It was stupid, but I was proud of myself for making it through. When I got to the other end of the trail, the sign said “Dead End.” That definitely wasn’t on the sign in the direction I came.

Anyway, the park was pleasant, as was the surrounding area. It was very green for Colorado, with tall pines and long views.

But in three hours, I only saw 10 species of birds.

I headed for home, stopping in Fountain to look for a Bobolink that has been seen there recently. This would be my first for the state. I found it way out in the field, but I waited patiently knowing that this may be my last every chance for a photo. It, or another one, came over and perched on a fence post for a couple minutes.

A White-tailed Deer fawn walked across the road in front of my car, followed by a very tiny fawn that was unsteady on its feet, probably because it was only hours old. It missed a gate by about a foot and tried to squeeze its way through a fence. I thought it was stuck, so I pulled over. It had managed to make it through. I took a quick photo, then left it alone. The doe had run off when I got out of the car. I can only hope she came back.

The Bobolink and fawn were the highlights of the day, and they came at the very end. But I enjoyed the scenery and the hiking and the few birds I did see.

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