She Waits

Thursday April 19 2012

Sitting low on her nest, she incubates the first egg she laid on March 7 or 8 (and perhaps subsequent eggs, laid 3-5 days apart). The golden eagles on Bates Creek started nesting on one of those two days. Incubation is typically 43 to 45 days, which means possibly today, and through Sunday, the first new golden eagle could be born on Bates Creek.

Waiting nearby is the other adult (females and males both incubate the eggs, though the male does it less, and only during the day - in the photos I'm assuming it's the female on the nest).

Last year, this pair produced one eaglet that successfully fledged. Perhaps this spring will bring one, or two new ones. 

She sits and waits.

Anxiously, we all wait!

The Eagle Has Landed!

Friday February 10 2012

Both of them in fact - the Bates Creek golden eagle pair are prepping their nest for some good old fashioned egg laying again this year!

They've been hanging around the area the last month, keeping an eye on their old nest from last year, and checking out new real estate further up the creek (a nest occupied last year by great horned owls, and the year before that by red-tailed hawks); but the last couple of weeks one or two have been seen at their tried and true old nest.

Today they were both on the nest (there are 2 eagles in the top photo), and presumably it's the female that was sitting on the edge, looking down in her cubbyhole that she'll soon be sitting in.

Riding the High Owyhee Country

Friday August 12 2011

Steph has toyed with the idea of a Silver City Ghost Town endurance ride. We've tinkered with the idea of riding from home up to Silver City (the base of the mountains are roughly 6 miles away), spending the night in the old historic Idaho Hotel (established 1863), and riding back home the next day. We just have to find a good route up the mountain - and we keep chipping away at little pieces of it.

Hauling up into the Owyhees today, our goal was to retrace some of our hoofprints from last year in a quest for a loop on top - but without getting semi-lost like we did with Dudley.

Karen was going to bring maps, but she didn't - nor did I - but Karen was pretty sure she knew the correct road to take this time... and if we did get lost, I wasn't worried this time because I was on Jose, a fit horse with tough feet (and Easyboot gloves). And I carried a GPS, a jacket, and food and water and gatorade, and horse treats, for a long day.

Regina wasn't sure her rig would make it up the steepest part of the grade to Silver City carrying 4 horses - so we stopped at the beginning of the steep climb, in the middle of the road (no traffic), and Karen and I unloaded Rusty and Jose, and we hopped on them and trotted them a mile up the road after the horse trailer.

Regina waited for us after the steep climb and we loaded back up in the rig for the rest of the drive up the mountain, to the corrals around the corner from historic Silver City, the living mining ghost town.


The four of us headed up the War Eagle road, past the Fairview Cemetery (established 1873),


past the site of the old town of Fairview, (burned completely down in 1875; a few foundations remain among the sagebrush),


past the old mine shafts and tailings of the Poorman mine (started in 1865, one of the richest bodies of ore for its size ever discovered - 500 pounds of ruby silver were removed from the mine in one piece of ore - this piece was awarded a gold medal at the Paris Exposition of 1867),

below a soaring immature golden eagle and the red cliffs,


up onto Burnam Flats!


Jose had never been up here before. He was agog at the views.


We could see home from up here - or at least where our 2 creeks converge, under the green dot of trees.


We also found a different road down off the mountain... which possibly meets up with the Silver City road, and which possibly meets up with Gerty Creek, which joins with Sinker Creek, which is easy access from our place...

After a good snack on the abundant grass left by the cows still hanging out on the mountain, we moved on into the Pickett Creek drainage and its 'headwaters' - up here, myriad little steep drainages that create Pickett Creek,


and the one flowing year-round spring that Jose drank deeply from.


Another 2 miles brought us through the jungle of aspens to the Pickett Creek saddle, to the other side of the mountain.


We skirted the base of Hayden Peak (highest in the Owyhees at 8403'),


and this time, instead of following what we thought last year was the obvious road (and this was the area of the missing map), this time we turned onto a road with a locked gate, which crawled up the side of Hayden Peak. We'd gotten permission from the local rancher to ride this road, so up the side of the mountain we climbed.


The views opened up below us - we could see the logging road we'd taken last year in error, that petered out on top of a peak and ended far away from War Eagle mountain.


Jose couldn't get enough of the views as we climbed to almost 8000'.


Still on the main jeep road, we eventually descended to the saddle between War Eagle and Hayden Peaks - much easier than our scramble last year. The breeze was delightfully cool (the exciting harbinger of an early fall!?) and Ravens drifted and tumbled above us.


We dropped down to the main jeep road and rode the several miles back to the trailer - an easy 22-mile round trip (5 1/2 hours).

Jose drank his fill at a creek before we loaded back up to drive off the mountain - and we humans stopped for a Murphy burger (!!) on the way home.


We were already scheming our next ride in the Owyhees. Now, about that Silver City Ghost Town endurance ride...

[slide show here]

She Must Be Offended

Wednesday August 10 2011

She must be offended by my absurd arrogance. My inconsiderate timing. My reckless invasiveness. My loud clumsiness. My laughable notion that I might be skillful enough to get close to her.

I wake her from a tranquil sleep and she flies away with disdain, disturbed by my impertinence. I catch only a glimpse - of where she left from, of where she alights again - an elegant silent flash of brown and gold among the brown and gray and the thick green leaves, as she disdainfully disappears further away.


I move after her slowly, searching. I try so hard to move noiselessly, but I can not be quiet; I can not be graceful as I trundle earthbound through her territory. Uncoordinated, I slip, I trip; all the louder and more ridiculous for trying to imitate her fluid soundlessness. Leaves crunch beneath my awkward, ungainly feet. Rocks roll and splash into the creek. Branches snap and crack. My crashing about startles deer from this peaceful riparian oasis.


I stalk her with laughable ineptitude. I get close to where she rests again; I know she is watching me, but with my incompetent human eyes, I can not see. Each time she lets me get closer, and still I do not see through the camouflage. She takes flight, showing me only the backside of her tail and the broadside of her wings, just a glimpse of her golden beauty and majestic silence I'll never know.


I creep and crash about; I look and do not see; the final time before she takes flight, she crouches and opens her wings and pauses - pauses a second, to mock my poor eyesight, letting me finally notice, she was right there, and still I did not see.

She circles behind me and flies far up the creek. This game is over.

And yet she leaves behind a prize for me. A feather.

Maybe she was not offended.

Maybe she was amused.

The Raven Tree

Tuesday November 9 2010

Beckoning in all its bright fall glory, I had to hike down to The Raven Tree on Bates Creek.

A pair of Ravens had started to set up housekeeping in the cottonwood tree's nest this spring. I had watched them over the course of a few weeks, then one day saw them no more around the tree (This was not the pair who lost both their fledged young.)


Why did this pair stop nesting? Was it the presence of their next door neighbors a quarter mile away, a pair of golden eagles? (who also started nesting, sat on their nest a while, then failed.) Ravens might make a nice snack for golden eagles, although Ravens are known to brashly harass eagles.


I climbed partway up the tree closer to the nest - and saw why they probably quit. The nest was falling apart, sagging between the fork in the foundation branches. Maybe it was too much of a Fixer-Upper.


As soon as I started climbed in the tree, I attracted two Ravens. They were obviously aggravated at me climbing in their tree, near their nest. It's nowhere near nesting season, and they haven't been hanging out in the tree, but it's clear this pair still considers this THEIR Raven Tree. They circled above me and the tree, RAWKing, intentionally making the Whoosh-Whoosh sound with their wings, circled again, then flew off still yelling.


I was a tree-climbing fool in my younger years, but didn't have the nerve anymore to climb all the way up and look into this nest (though there would be nothing in it now anyway).


It is a comfortable and secure Raven Tree - and the fact that the Ravens are still in the vicinity and still consider this Their Own Tree makes me think that with a little luck and a little bit of remodeling, maybe they'll try again next year.

Birdiful II

Thursday March 25 2010

Today I was able to ditch the dogs, and I snuck up Bates Creek from the house.

I knew where I should find a long-eared owl or two (last May, I found several, including a baby), so I slowly and as quietly as possible approached the spot in the creek where the brush is thickest and where I know they hang out.

I looked, and looked, stopped and studied the brush and tree branches every few yards, but didn't see one. You won't see a long-eared owl unless you flush one, or unless you are really, really good. They are so camouflaged and look so like the tree or brush they are sitting in, and since they won't move or blink, your eyes simply won't comprehend one.

I walked very slowly upstream along the bank - no owls. I was sure there had to be owls in here. I slowly walked back downstream along the bank, and still saw nothing. Just as I was about to give up, I noticed a pile of whitewash under some brush. Ah ha - an owl had obviously been sitting there for a time. I kept looking at the brush - and realized I'd been staring at the long-eared owl the whole time! Quite unbelievable. (Looks obvious in the photo, but it wasn't!)

He didn't move, didn't blink, just stared at me. I was quite sure there had to be more owls around there, and very possibly one on a nest, but I could not see an obvious nest (there was a possibility, but I was pretty sure nothing was on it) and didn't want to disturb him or them any more.

I continued on upstream, and not 30 yards further I spotted a small nest in the crook of a snag and - also camouflaged so well I would not have made it out if the wind hadn't been blowing its ears - sitting on it, a great horned owl!




The other thing that gave it away was the partner great horned owl that flushed out of the tree next to it. He flew upstream and immediately came right back with two Ravens chasing it! One Raven landed close and was knocking (vocally) at the owl; the owl was snapping his beak at the Raven, which they do when they are threatened.


I left them all alone to have their row, and continued upstream another quarter mile to two more empty nests. Was one of these a Raven nest? I'd seen a Raven flying in this direction last week with sticks in its feet.


Under one of the nests I found some fairly fresh whitewash and a broken pellet. I think the nest was unoccupied at the moment. Maybe Ravens nest a bit later in the spring, or, maybe this Raven pair (or another) are just toying with nest-building but decided to stay childless another year.

Getting tired of the bird posts yet? Hope not, because while I'm done with Bates Creek, I'm not done with the area yet!

Birdiful!

Wednesday March 24 2010

Birdwise, it's been a stunning couple of days!

If you work your way up Bates Creek Road and study the leafless (for now) cottonwood and locust trees on the creek (and you know where to look), you will first see a great horned owl on a nest.


Next, 3/4 mile upstream: remember the golden eagle nest on Bates Creek? I hadn't seen the eagles in two weeks. Nothing near the nest, no eagles on their favorite pointed peak on the rim, no eagles anywhere. I thought they were gone. Monday something made me look at the nest again, and look closer - there was a bird sitting in the nest! I couldn't quite tell what it was through my binoculars, but blowing up the pictures - looks like a golden eagle! (Tuesday, I saw two eagles flying, and nothing on the nest. There was a tractor plowing the field right below the nest...)

A half-mile upstream from the eagle nest is another nest; Monday two Ravens were on it. Tuesday two magpies were on it.

Another quarter mile upstream: occupied red-tailed hawk nest.


Another half mile upstream: occupied great horned owl nest.




1 1/2 miles further upstream, occupied red tailed hawk nest.


All of this in a 3 1/2-mile stretch.

Any riparian canyon you come across in this desert country, especially one thick with cottonwoods, you're likely to find something in a nest.

On Rabbit Creek (on the way to Stormy's dental appointment): 2 immature golden eagles were flying above the creek; a red tailed hawk stood on a nest, and a quarter-mile up from there, in a deep wash where we once flushed a half-dozen long eared owls, I found one on a nest.



I'm astounded by all the nesting birds on our creek. Last year I noticed only 2 occupied nests (red tails). Did I just not notice the others? Was I too busy, gone, or just oblivious? Shame.

This year I know exactly where they all are. I still have at least 2 possible golden eagle territories to check out. I suspect I will find nesting long-eared owls and Ravens up Bates Creek from the house; and possibly nesting red tailed hawks a half mile up Pickett Creek from the house, and nesting long-eared owls further up in the Narrows. If I really do some sleuthing, I'm sure I can find a screech owl nest or two (they prefer tree cavities in snags), because I hear them at night on the creek.

But I'm waiting till I can ditch the noisy boisterous dogs before I snoop. No chance on sneaking up on birds with 4 dogs thrashing through brush, and I don't want to overly stress the birds at a critical time on their nests.

It's going to be a bountiful, birdiful spring and summer!