Rising almost 7,000 feet above the surrounding desert, Mount
Wrightson caps off the Santa Rita Mountains.
The north flank of the mountain range has been carved by a stream over
time and is known as Madera Canyon. Like
Cave Creek Canyon, this place is a must for any serious birder.
With Joe’s dental work looming in the afternoon (and
Corrine needed to assist him),the plan was to bird the lower canyon as a
foursome for the morning. By lunch time, it would be just Nat and I.
Things started off well when we finally scored Natalie’s
Roadrunner on the drive to the mountain’s base. While hardly rare in the region, you never
know where you will see one. Try as we
might, we never heard him say “Beep Beep!”.
The lower canyon was not particularly birdy. A highlight was the Bronzed Cowbird at what
appeared to be the home of Bilbo Baggins. Known as the Madera Kubo,
this Bed and Breakfast has a feeder station that a Wild Turkey also found
enticing.
By early lunch time, Joe and Corrine had left and it was
up to Natalie and I locate one of Arizona signature birds.
Ascending the canyon on a series of switchbacks (part of
the Carrie Nation Trail), we hiked at least a mile in. I can’t tell you the altitude change, but we
were getting up there. The
Sulphur-bellied Flycatcher was nice!
Right about the point when our notes told us to be on the
lookout, the “barking” started. Racing
up the trail still further, we settled in to a wonderful viewing spot
overlooking the wash below.
Granted, it took a few moments, but for the next 45
minutes, we enjoyed some pretty fine looks at three Elegant Trogons. All were males and they seemed to be
interested in finding nesting cavities.
Throughout the rest of the day, we bopped around the
Canyon. At the low end, we managed brief
glimpses of the most uncooperative Varied Bunting the world. Elsewhere, we had more Painted Redstarts and
Bridled Titmice. The hummingbirds at the
Santa Rita Lodge were cool. Nothing new
there, but you can’t be bored!
It wouldn’t be fair to mention birding in southeastern
Arizona without mentioning the lizards.
Everywhere. Big ones. Little
ones. Drab. Pretty. Too many for me to
name here!
After a camp meal at the top-most picnic area, we settled
in for our evening of owling. Joe and Corrine
had told us be on a bridge by 8:00pm for Elf Owl. When we scouted the bridge in the morning, we
joked about how the Owls are probably nesting in the hole in the sycamore tree
that is right NEXT to the bridge.
Elf Owls, by the
way, are the smallest owls in the world.
Standing huge at 5 inches tall, they eat insects. I have to think a mouse would kick the snot
out of these little tikes…
Come 7:30pm, as we waited patiently, we could hear the
tree hissing. Okay, it wasn’t the tree, it was coming from inside the
hole. Something has to be in there,
right? Trees don’t hiss. At about 7:53pm (as I recall), a shadow
whisked by. Carrying a bug the size of an
macaroni elbow, it slipped into the hole.
The hissing became loud, chirping and screaming fits and we immediately
realized we were feet away from an Elf Owl nest.
For the next 15 minutes, we watched as mom and dad
slipped in and out of the nest to feed the hungry mouths. No kids left the cavity, but there had to
have been at least two nestlings in there.
Attempts were made to track down the calling Mexican
Whip-Poor-Will. But like his brother in the Chiricahuas, it was not to be had.
With a long successful day behind us, we returned to
Joe’s place. We were hoping for a neat
mammal sighting on the drive down the canyon. Mountain Lion or Coatimundi. The best we could muster was a fat raccoon. Bummer. I didn’t drive across the country
to see something I can see filing through garbage cans in my neighborhood.
No comments:
Post a Comment