Home again, home again, jiggity-jig. We are back from our little escape to Marquette. After a week in the Upper Peninsula we are back in the Downer Peninsula.
Considering the season it was a good trip birding wise. I picked up 11 new species and Lise picked up nine. I got ruffed grouse and purple finch which Lise already had. We got a couple really good species including Connecticut warbler on two occasions, black-throated blue warbler, boreal chickadee, olive-sided flycatcher, and LeConte’s sparrow. In addition to those guys, we also got purple finch, Brewer’s blackbird, trumpeter swan, yellow-bellied flycatcher, and Philadelphia vireo. There were times we had dozens of warblers, kinglets, vireos, chickadees, and nuthatches around us. A lot of the warblers and vireos were young in various plumage stages or adults molting to non-breeding plumage. I was amazed how many different variations of plumage yellow-rumped warblers can come in.
For the trip we had some target boreal species including boreal chickadee, gray jay, spruce grouse, and black-backed woodpecker. Boreal chickadee was the only one of those we got. Not for lack of trying I might add.
We did a second trip out the McCormick Tract. This time we did the three mile hike out to the foundations for the McCormick camp on White Deer Lake. That means three miles back too. We got the boreal chickadee within 15 minutes of starting. Four hours, 900 calories, and a blister later, still no gray jay. In the winter the gray jays like to cache food and will take tidbits right out of your hand. They follow you down the trail looking for handouts. Like our lizard, they associate people with food. In the summer, when resources are good, they disappear into the woods. They’re there when they need you but not when you need them. This is the appropriate time for a brother-in-law joke but in fact I like my brothers-in-law.
The McCormick camp must have been pretty impressive in its day. A couple two-story family lodges, servants’ quarters, a kitchen, guest cabins, work and tool sheds, and docks. One of the family lodges was on an island in the lake and there was a ferry between the island and the main camp. All with a grand view of White Deer Lake. They had everything (including a butler), except a convenient Starbucks. This is before cars and three miles from the nearest thing that could even be called a road. Probably why there was no Starbucks. Couldn’t do a drive up window.
Lise and white pine along trail to McCormick camp.
Female river bluet (I think) along trail to McCormick camp.
Coming back from Marquette on Saturday we did another trip through Seney National Wildlife Refuge. They had a 3,000+ acre wildfire last June. According to the field guides, this should be prime for black-backed woodpecker. They eat bugs that infest burnt trees. So we walked a couple miles into the burn area hoping to find the little devils. Rumor has it that other people have found black-backed woodpeckers there. Not Ed and Lise. We walked a couple miles and got nothing but hot, thirsty, and tired. Maybe that was our penance for going into an area that may have been closed to entry. We weren’t quite sure which area the sign was referring to so we took a more liberal interpretation of “Area Closed.”
It was kind of interesting seeing how fire worked through the system. There were patches of burnt trees and untouched patches. In the burnt areas, some trees died and some were only scorched at the base. Understory plants like bracken fern seemed unaffected. There was a distinct die-off of the shrubby layer.
Looks like great black-backed woodpecker habitat.
Anybody see a black-backed woodpecker?
So maybe they didn’t read the field guide saying they should be found in burnt areas?
Loons seem to have read the field guide saying they can be found here.
So did the eagles.
After Seney we stopped at the Cut River Inn for a late lunch/early dinner. I had the U.P. combo – whitefish chowder, smoked whitefish spread, and a pastie. High protein and salad extra.
About ten years ago Lise and I stopped at the same place. I remember two regulars talking. One asked the other if he had ever been south of the Mackinaw Bridge. The reply was, “Ain’t never been south of dat bridge. Ain’t no reason to go ‘cross dat bridge.” I think the same two guys were sitting in the same two seats this time. Only now they had laptops and were talking about emailing each other files. Even thought they were connected, their sentiment about going “‘cross dat bridge” seemed about the same. Only we trolls live under dat bridge, eh.
The counts now stand at 298 for me, 283 for Lise and a combined count of 299.
Ed's and Lise's Biggish Years 