Tag Archives: Birding Trip Report

Alaskan Birding Journey — Part 2

We arrived in Nome only three hours behind schedule. Now we had to secure our transportation – we have two vans waiting for this pack of 16. At the van company we find that we will run into their July 4th celebration and both gas stations will be closed so we need to keep that in mind. I have a feeling that in Nome they celebrate anything they can.
Now back to the airport and we load everybody and head for our home. Sixteen very anxious birders simply enter the house and deposit their luggage on the floor. Room and floor assignments can wait. Off to the general store for a “Drummond food raid.”  All of you that have been on one of Bill’s trip know what this is like. Everything done and now finally we can say , “Lets go birding!” Avian hunters searching for their victims.
One of the first birds we saw was the magnificent Long-tailed Jaeger. photo by Seabamirum

One of the first birds we saw was the magnificent Long-tailed Jaeger. photo by Seabamirum

A trip to the mouth of the Nome River yielded Yellow Wagtail, Long-tailed Jaeger, and Bar-tailed Godwit. It’s amazing how all the misfortunes of days gone by simply vanish. This is going to be an unforgettable trip with no more problems. Wrong!
We had a flat tire on one van the first night. It was no problem since we had enough tire sealer and it worked.  Tomorrow morning I’ll get the tire plugged. At dinner Bill tells us ,”We’ll have a really big day tomorrow.” And in “Drummond speak” it means one thing. Tomorrow will be an intense day of birding. Now we settle in for the night which of course is a relative term here as it’s daylight outside at 11 PM.
Good morning!  It’s 4:30 AM , rise and shine. Have breakfast, get the tire fixed and head out. Safety Lagoon our first objective for the day where we get Willow Ptarmigan, Sabines Gull, and Aleutian Tern. Now we plunge headlong and I begin my battle with the infamous Kougarak Road. Eighty-four bone jarring bumps, potholes, and rocks one way. Why would sixteen reasonably intelligent people punish themselves by traversing 168 miles of the worst road created? For the sheer joy of birding and sharing experience with friends. And of course one special prize.
As we near the end of the road Bill remarks that he had this bird nesting here two years ago over there.  As three intrepid souls began to walk “over there .” When this means over tussocks and soft marsh and finally a small stream and up a hillside a one mile walk was like an obstacle course. But we had a mission as the three spread out searching. Suddenly off to my right the tell-tale rattle and we had the Smiths’ Longspur in breeding plumage. Now it’s time to go back and get the rest of the group and make the trip out again. This time I didn’t notice all the footfalls and tundra. Everyone was going to see this bird and they did. The drive back was still brutal.
The rarely-seen Smith's Longspur was worth the tough drive and strenuous hike. photo by jerryoldenettel

The rarely-seen Smith’s Longspur was worth the tough drive and strenuous hike. photo by jerryoldenettel

The beauty of the panorama that unfolds is breathtaking. There are gently rolling fields of green adorned with alpine flowers, all flowing across swales and hills and the ever present counterpoint of a phalanx of snow capped peaks and rock strewn escarpments. This was only the beginning as Mother Nature would show me her finest in the days ahead.
It is a land of extremes. As I sit here on the rocks at 10:30 PM adding to my journal, a Russian trawler sits offshore. The surf pounds constantly and then suddenly a rainbow appears and just as quickly the artist removes the creation. Still this could be a lucky omen for tomorrow.
Back up the Kougarak and we start off with Slaty-backed Gull.  We then drive for 25 miles in fog. At times it seemed ethereal as we ascended this roadway into the clouds – ” Birders of the Mist.”  The fog hides the potholes and I missed seeing one and almost put someone through the roof of the van. The dust has also permeated itself into and onto everything. Clothes, equipment, lungs, food – nothing escapes.
The Bluethroat was the prize today. After the 84 mile one way trip we faced a 3 mile roundtrip hike and swarms of mosquitos. Definitely worth the effort. In the wilderness easy birding is an elusive objective. On the way back we add Rock Ptarmigan. And bid a fond farewell to this road of torture.
Red, white, and a BlueThroat for 4th of July birding. photo by sussexbirder

Red, white, and a BlueThroat for 4th of July birding. photo by sussexbirder

July 4th – Happy Independence Day or whatever else you care to call it. A bright sunny morning greeted our weary bodies and we were only in the first part of our trip. On to Hastings Creek and the rainbow delivers: a magnificent Spectacled Eider. What a treat – this bird is not supposed to be here at this time. A great way to start the day.
On to the town pier and a White Wagtail. Actually we had three with a male displaying like a Grouse. Tail cocked straight up, wings spread out and fluttering, and becoming aggressive when challenged. This dominant male would pass on his genes to many more generations to come thus helping insure the survival of the species.
Now we headed for the Teller Road, another non-paved road but less torturous then our friend the Kougarak. We add Arctic Warbler and on the way back we stop at a small body of water and find a very special bird. Sitting rather nonchalantly is an Arctic Loon in perfect light and close enough to clearly establish its identification. The Teller Road has a much different look than the Kougarak. It is more pastoral with vast expanses of gently rolling hills. Old wooden mining structures are silent sentinels and reminders of the gold rush days.
An Arctic Loon capped off our Nome-area birding. photo by logan kale

An Arctic Loon capped off our Nome-area birding. photo by logan kahle

Our last morning in Nome is a foggy, rainy, overcast day. Our concern is getting back to Anchorage. If we don’t make the right connection we will miss our flight to the Pribilofs. Despite our previous bad luck everything works according to plan. A few thoughts about Nome before we leave. Nome is like an island on the Seward Peninsula.You cannot drive there and the three main roads out lead nowhere. The Polar Cafe has the best blueberry pancakes in the world. In 1989 it was hard to imagine living there and I can’t believe it has changed much.
We are at the airport and the visibility clears and we get out in a hurry. Airborne again, on to Anchorage, a metropolitan city where we can shower and wash our clothes. Wrong again! Just before we land a car smashes into a telephone pole and the hotel has no electricity. Finally late that night power came back on and shower and laundry were accomplished.
The morning had the 16 vagabonds on the way to the airport and no delays right onto the plane and here we go on to St. Paul Island in the Pribilofs.

Alaskan Birding Journey — Part 1

Birders,
This is a tale of an Alaskan journey with Bill Drummond and stops in Nome, St. Paul, and Anchorage. It is my story of how it began, the stops, the impressions, and most of all the birds. Come join me on my journey.
PART 1 – GENESIS
And so it begins. Not in a spectacular fashion , indeed, just the opposite. It is June 1989 and I am sitting in the Northwest Terminal restaurant being glared at by a raspberry croissant whose very existence was about to end. The Coke fared better , only that it lasted longer, but it’s fate was also doomed. Power does have its advantages. Here sits King Gerry , conqueror of croissants and soda. Time to think about how I got to this point.
Bill Drummond had announced an Alaska trip and being a professional procrastinator I simply let it slide. When some of my friends said they were going I decided to call Bill and of course the trip was full. “You’re on the wait list” were Bill’s words of encouragement. Now I don’t know if birders are by nature superstitious, but I can tell you this one is and I convinced myself that if I said anything to anybody I would jinx my chance to get on the trip. Like it would really matter! I became so convinced of this that if I met Bill in the field I never mentioned Alaska. My lack of action was all that was to blame.
While birding at Newburyport one day Bill approached and said.”Gerry it’s close — you are number one on the list so be ready.” To those of you that have been in this position you know it is pure mental torture. I am so close and yet so far away? When will he call? Should I call him? Maybe, someday, and nowhere the answers. I had reached “birding trip limbo”
This is a semi-euphoric state that does nothing but heighten your pains of anxiety. I know I’m close but will it finally happen? The more I wish for an an answer, the more I create a subconscious rationalization of defeat. I found it was not possible to put aside my chance of success or failure. You hope for success but failure always rears its ugly head. Nothing is perfect in this life but the mere thought of not going to Alaska is more than I am willing to accept. So much inner conflict. There has to be a need for group or individual therapy for birders.
The holidays came and went and still no word. Arriving home this January day my daughter says.” There’s a note from a Mr. Drummond on the counter.” On a yellow post it was this message, ” Mr. Drummond called  – Alaska is on – call ASAP.” Now one might think that a man in his castle would now release all his inner emotions in some sort of primal scream of joy and incoherent babbling.
Quite the opposite. I called Bill and said,”Hey that’s great – count me in.” Bills response was ” Super!  glad to have you aboard. I’ll be sending the final itinerary shortly. I also haven’t worked out all the room assignments yet, would you mind rooming with me if necessary?” Hells Bells! I would have roomed with a moose if I had to. I had left bird limbo and had entered bird euphoria.
In just a few days, I was at the gate waiting for the announcement. Of course I was processed through in record time. Only when you’re in a hurry does everything go wrong. But do I really care? Of course not as I begin my very special journey. This morning Boston – tonight Anchorage – tomorrow Nome. Thank you Wright Brothers. My flight is announced and the real journey is about to begin.
When does a birder become aware that their birding cannot be complete without a trip to Alaska? photo by Seavamirum

When does a birder become aware that their birding cannot be complete without a trip to Alaska? photo by Seabamirum

The flight is Boston – Minneapolis – Anchorage. First leg is without incident. I should have known that my luck was going to be short lived. It appears that the airline overbooked the second leg and are trying to coax six people off the plane otherwise we stay grounded. The airlines negotiating process was tedious at best. The final offer was two free round trip tickets to anywhere in North America and $200 cash. The six also got dinner and a hotel for free. I was almost tempted but realized I had let greed be the temptress. I was on a birding trip and had to get to my destination.
At last with everything sorted out we began to board the plane. Boarding door shuts and we taxi down the runway for take off and finally are airborne. I let myself relax and reflect. When does a birder become aware that their birding cannot be complete without a trip to Alaska?  There are as many answers as there are birders. My reason was easy.When I had made birding my lifetime commitment, Alaska became my Mecca of North America. Reading all the books and seeing the pictures only fueled the flame. As I close my eyes and recall all the events prior to this moment I soon fall asleep. The plane droned northward.
“Ladies and gentlemen please fasten your seatbelts we are in our descent to Anchorage,” crackled over the intercom .  It was the most pleasant wake-up alarms I ever heard. Wheels on the ground, I’m in Alaska.
I arrived at 5:30 PM with a temperature of 65 under bright sunny skies. Shuttled over to the hotel, I expected to find the crew but have two messages waiting from Bill. I know this is not a good sign.  The first is to find another trip member and second and more ominous, “Meet me at the airport noon tomorrow and check to see what remains of United Flight 37.” If he sent the message all was not lost. So there was nothing to do but find the other person and have dinner.
Upon returning another message,” Do not fly to Nome without us; will eventually meet at the airport. Monitor through United Airlines.” After pleading with a supervisor I was told the plane was on the ground and would not leave until tomorrow maybe. They wouldn’t even tell me where it was. First call in the morning said there was no progress – the plane is still on the ground. What they didn’t tell me was it was preparing to depart. Next call confirmed plane was airborne.
We were waiting at the United terminal when it was announced that Flight 37 will arrive at the International Terminal since the plane is coming in from Canada. Engine trouble caused them to land in Saskatoon. Well the scene at Customs was pure bedlam as most passengers were coming with no passports and finally they waived through the entire flight. Finally we are all together and headed to gate B6 for our flight to Nome.
We board the plane, get airborne, wheels are up. Next stop Nome.
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