The Big Sweep

Bienvenidos!

The time is 2:40pm on Tuesday. A Fall chill is in the air, although the sun is shining brightly with not a cloud to be seen. Three young boys are playing basketball in the city park adjacent to which our truck and trailer are parked. We are in Ajo, Arizona. Waiting.

Why we came here will be clear in short order. How we came to be here sounds crazy but is simple enough: we have embarked upon our last major trip of the year, in which we have driven from Napa to southern Arizona, from which we will fly to Florida, then New England, then back to Arizona, for the return drive to Napa. This smells like Madness! And yet, with the gentle aroma of Logic about it.

You see, our route is surgically targeted at areas that still contain birds we need, with the objective of quickly locating those birds and moving on. A Birding Blitzkrieg, if you will.

The first two days of this adventure have involved about 500 miles of driving per day, surrounding a few brief but successful interludes of Bird Finding. And this isn't your typical "take a stroll through a verdant forest and see what you see" birding. No, this is hardcore: go to where you know a bird is at, find it and move on. Muy rápido!

Our first stop was Mercey Hot Springs, a resort in the edge of the Panoche Valley, about 60 miles west of Fresno. We visited this rustic, remote resort not for its famous pools, but for its owls:

"Hey, buddy. You got any mice? No? Then get outta here, or I'll talon you. In the eye."

"Are you looking at ME? Are YOU looking at me? Are you LOOKING at me? Whatever."

For some reason, a large parliament of Long-Eared Owls finds the tamarisk trees at this particular resort to be delightful winter roosts, and they've been returning here for years. Maybe the owls fancy a restorative dip in the bubbling waters at night?

Next stop, another regional attraction that a certain bird finds irresistible: the Calico Ghost Town, outside Barstow. This place is an old silver-mining town that was founded in the 1860s and eventually abandoned when the miners looked at each other and said, "Barstow? We're in Barstow??? Guys, what are we doing? Vegas is just up the freeway! Let's gooooo!"

The arid, rocky hills of this Ghost-Town-slash-County-Park-slash-Tourist-Trap are adored by a large group of Chukars, a quail-like game bird that is native to Asia and was introduced into North America (like the Snowcock and Gray Partridge) because hunters needed more things to shoot. While most birders look for Chukars in picturesque locales like the Sierra foothills, we knew these birds were resident in the area... and not just in the area, in the freaking parking lot:

Chukars, conveniently located between the dumpster and the old lookout tower. 

"Paparazzi! Run! Run!"

Check! So, to the next bird, wiki wiki. Before we arrived, however, we passed through Quartzsite, AZ, a dusty area off I-10 that is one of the Great Wonders of the World. As in, "I Greatly Wonder why the hell so many people come here in the winter when they could be *Anywhere Else*?" The answer, apparently, is cheap camping + rocks. Seriously, people? Rocks? Sigh. Onward!

Last December, had you given me the opportunity to list 100 places we would visit this year, this destination would not have made the list. But, for a bird? We would absolutely drive to the US Army's Yuma Proving Ground for one of them.

Fortunately, they were not testing missiles or shells or whatever else is meant by the sign, "Ordinance deliveries use gate 1B". Unfortunately, we did not see any cool new vehicle prototypes being tested. Fortunately, the Mud Course gates were locked, or I just may have tried driving the F-250 through it. While towing, natch.

But, after driving past the twin artillery guns at the entrance, and then the parking lot of tanks at the visitor's center (Welcome!), we arrived at a golf course just west of the military facility. A Ruddy Ground-Dove, an unusual visitor from Mexico, had been reported in the parking lot, brazenly consorting with Inca Doves. And sure enough:

The Astute Birder will note the lack of scaling, short tail, and white edges on greater coverts of the bird to the far right. The Less Astute will weep.

And thus sprach Zarathrustra: ONWARD!

So, why we came to Ajo on this particular day is, as you guessed, a matter of a birdy importance. Our target? A Rufous-backed Robin, another unusual Mexican visitor. Just one of the three that had been reported here would be sufficient. And according to eBird, everybody who has come within 100 miles of Ajo has seen one.

Us? Not so much.

We arrived here a little past 10AM, and spent two hours walking the neighborhood, trying to scare one up. Every local knows the bird is here, because they've seen the crazy birders wandering about, and we have been asked several times if we had seen it yet ("If I had, would I still be here?" I wanted to reply, snarkily. But, thanks to the elbow of The Wife, I didn't.) Retreating to our trailer for lunch, we were interrupted by a couple of very nice retired ladies who knocked on our door, thinking they may have the bird in their back yard...but alas, it was a Cardinal.

Our current hope is that it will swing by later in the afternoon, maybe once the bars close for siesta.

And, so, we wait. And blog.

Patiently,
Me.

p.s. This is post #100 for the year! If you've read all 100, then you are My Best Friend! If you skipped a few, then no hard feelings... but go back and read them all if you want a Christmas Card. And click on an ad to truly redeem yourself.