Sagging Spirits

Orange County's lowly Santa Ana Mountains are generally ignored by birders in favor of the bigger, more exciting mountain ranges like the San Bernardinos or San Jacintos. For a legitimate reason, too: the Santa Anas do not rise high enough to host specialties like White-headed Woodpeckers, Dusky Flycatchers, or Cassin's Finches. In comparison with their taller neighbors, the Santa Anas are downright boring.

But!

Upper Silverado Canyon, only a twenty-minute drive from my house, offers a nice serving of mountain birding within Orange County. It seems that I stumble upon something exciting every time I head up there--Green-tailed Towhee, Painted Redstart, breeding Olive-sided Flycatchers, Lewis's Woodpecker...

But...

I haven't learned my lesson. I kept intending to visit the canyon all summer, but I kept putting it off, figuring there was nothing new to see. Boy, was I wrong.

It was shaping up to be pretty average morning. Sure, a few highlights: Canyon and Rock Wrens, a whole mess of Western Screech-Owls before dawn, and several Olive-sided Flycatchers. All neat birds, and some of them extremely local in Orange County in the summer. Still...this is a tad disappointing, I thought as I gazed out over the canyon to the fog-shrouded lowlands below.

Tik, tik. Whaaaaat...?

The bird was invisible, so I blast it with my most irresistible pish mix.

Pssshhh psh pssshhhhhhhpshhhpshhh PSSSHHH PSSHHHHHHHHHHH

My opponent hesitated for a moment, and then popped up and launched itself at me. It landed in a bush about fifteen feet away. It was a sparrow, it was a....

HOLY SMOKES, A SAGE SPARROW!



I've lived in Orange County for three years without seeing one. Legends of their continued existence deep in impenetrable tracks of the Santa Anas constantly circulate, but finding one borders on impossible. A most excellent way to save the morning, no?

Thomas Jefferson looked upon my success with stern approval.



I built a stone cairn to mark the spot in case other birders wished to search for this phantom sparrow. Tommy did his part.



A side effect of my pishing assault was an infestation of spunky Blue-gray Gnatcathcers. This bright-eyed little gnome landed at arm's length.



By late morning it was hot, dusty, and I was more than ready for lunch, so returned to my (err, my mom's) extremely rugged Subaru and coasted down the mountain. Driving this battered dirt road is fun--you just have to watch out for steep drop-offs, random boulders in the road, and suicidal Mountain Quails.

I wasn't hungry enough to skip a brief search for butterflies lower in the canyon. The paucity of butterflies this late in the summer is yet another reason why I should have visited the canyon earlier. Ah well, you learn from your mistakes...right?



California Dogface



California Sister

Sage Wisdom

It all started yesterday morning, when Justin Shew (the ornithologist at Starr Ranch) offhandedly mentioned he had seen a "weird sparrow" while out hiking last week. "I think it was a Sage Sparrow," he said. This snatched my attention - I desperately wanted to see one. I riddled him with endless questions of what it looked like, what it sounded like, where he saw it...

Fortunately, Justin had photographed the bird. Sure enough, it was a Sage Sparrow. That's why I found myself laboring up the rough San Juan Trail in extreme southern Orange County this morning. The trail wasn't steep, but there were lots of switchbacks and blind curves that potentially crazy mountain bikers might be swerving around at any moment. We had gone only a few hundred feet when this Western Scrub-Jay posed for me atop a bush.


Birds abounded along the trail, but mostly the usual suspects: Wrentits, Spotted Towhees, Ash-throated Flycatchers, and Rufous-crowned Sparrows. We were surprised by the numbers and diversity of wildflowers, including these nice ones that appear to be some sort of Mariposa lily. Because I'm a hopeless procrastinator, I still don't have a wildflower book...


I found this cicada in the middle of the trail shortly thereafter. It obviously had just emerged - a hole in the trail and an old cicada shell nearby brought me to this conclusion. I moved it into a bush off the trail so it wouldn't get squished.


Justin had said to look for the Sage Sparrow about four miles up the trail. We had gotten past the three mile marker. The scenery is spectacular up there! It is difficult to believe that this remote and rugged area is part of Orange County. We pressed on, occasionally dodging speeding bikes. After about two hours, we had gotten about four and a half miles up the trail. I strained my ears, hoping to catch the song of a Sage Sparrow. Wow, what was that?! I listened again. Oh - a Bewick's Wren. Those tricky Bewick's Wrens gave me multiple false starts all morning. The sun was starting to beat down on our unprotected heads, and the birds began to fall silent as time ticked away. That's the problem with birding chaparral - the birds quiet down early. Discouraged, we started down the trail back towards the car. No Sage Sparrow.

In the distance, I heard the distinctive song of a Black-chinned Sparrow. "It's a long shot, but we can try calling him in with the iPod," I told my dad. Not really believing it would work, I hit play. Within seconds a very belligerent Black-chinned Sparrow was providing great views as it investigated what it thought was a rival Black-chinned Sparrow. This made me happy - I've never really had a good look at one, and this was my first for Orange County.

Crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch. Our feet carried us back down the trail. CRRRUUUNNCH SCRAAAPE CRUNCH... crunch. I looked around, and saw my dad regaining his balance. "Walk much?" I inquired. "No, I meant to do that!" he replied. Uh-huh. The descent back to the car was forty minutes shorter than the climb up the trail. Gravity sure helps.

I was disappointed to miss the Sage Sparrow, but we saw a lot of other great birds, including the Black-chinned Sparrow. It was a great hike, and the scenery was fabulous. I'd highly recommend it for those who are fit enough to attempt it. I'll try to find those Sage Sparrows again next year, hopefully earlier in the year when they'll be more conspicuous.