weekend war stories - dream yr continues (long)
GREGORY.B.MILLER@bge.com
Tue, 30 Jun 1998 09:46:44 -0400
--------------- cc:Mail Forwarded ---------------
From: GREGORY B MILLER AT ~NOF1PO
Date: 06/29/98 11:35 AM
To: mdosprey@ari.net AT Internet
Subject: weekend war stories - dream yr continues (long)
This is a re-send of a previous transmittal. If you've seen this
before, by all means delete it.
-Greg Miller
Lusby, MD
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Subject: weekend war stories - dream yr continues (long)
Author: GREGORY B MILLER at ~NOF1PO
Date: 6/29/98 11:35 AM
Howdy all!
Yet another 600-mile weekend. Ahem. Yes. I am feeling a little
older. In fact, downright wimpy. Was gonna go for 5 new yr birds,
but only had energy for 4. Scored on 3 of the 4 targets. I met the
Black
Rail search party at Vienna, MD at 3pm on Saturday, headed up by Hal
"Mr. Black Rail" Weirenga. Our destination: the infamous Elliott
Island--home of the Black Rail. My targets here were Black Rail,
Saltmarsh Sharp-tailed Sparrow, and possibly Whip-poor-will.
Weather was HHH (hazy, hot, and humid). A slight breeze kept the
biting insects to a minimum during daylight hours. I've nicknamed the
area mosquitoworld amuzement park <grin> from previous adventures.
The birding was pleasant even though the weather was sweltering.
Toward evening we reached a good area for the Saltmarsh Sharp-tailed
Sparrows (a name that is longer the sparrow itself). Thanks to the
sharp eyes of Paul O'Brien, we all got great scope views of the
sparrows (several). Cha-ching! #612. Thanks Paul! Also, other
notable birds in the area were Black-necked Stilt and Am. Bittern.
The group continued South, but I turned around and headed back to
Henry's Crossing on Hal's advice for Whip-poor-wills. I drove the
section of road East (toward Blackwater NWR) and counted at least 6
individual Whips calling and had one even fly across the road (all
between 9:00-9:10pm. Scored again! #613. Thanks Hal! Adrenalin is
pumping now. One more will tie my life list as it stood at the
beginning of this year--614.
I reconnected with the group down at Elliott where we all got great
looks a Barn Owl. We headed back North after it was completely dark
and made the first pitstop at a reliable spot for Black Rail. Nada.
The marsh was very quiet (Elliott Island can sometimes be deafening
with night sounds). We walked in both directions straining our ears.
No Black Rails. Lots of Clapper Rails and a few Virginia Rails.
On to the next stop. The group is now a bit more pessimistic. We
spread out again at the lower yellow bldg. 15 minutes later I
returned to the parking area. There was a brief break in the frog
sounds and I heard the distinct kikka-doo call of the Black Rail. It
only called once. I immediately went over to the cars in the lot.
Has anyone been playing a tape? No one had. I was elated. Black
Rail! Several more of us listened, but to no avail. No one else had
heard my bird. Uh-oh. This does not look good. Birder doing big
year is only person to hear a Black Rail. Yeah. Right. Enter that
big, sick, sinking feeling. Although disappointingly distant we
finally found a calling bird that others got to hear, too. Whew!
Close call. Another tick on the list--#614. On the way out of
Elliott Island we heard one doing its little growling noise, somewhat
closer to the road.
It was around 1:00am when I left the marsh. I figured I'd head
East and South, down the peninsula to Norfolk, then to Suffolk where
I'd enter Great Dismal Swamp for Swainson's Warbler. I thought I'd
drive an hour or so and stop for a couple hours of *good* sleep.
Nothing, however, was open anywhere. Nobody had ANY rooms. I finally
stopped at 3:15am and slept in my truck in a hotel parking lot (thanks
to the people at Best Western).
I woke up at 5:30am to pouring rain. On the road again, I hoped
the rain would subside enough to at least listen for the warbler. By
the time I reached Virginia Beach, the rain was coming down in
torrents and the roads had dangerous levels of water. I passed one
vehicle that was stuck in a foot of water on the interstate!
I reached the Jericho Lane entrance to Great Dismal Swamp at
7:30am. Rain had just let up enough that listening was possible.
Though extremely groggy, I now had some adrenalin helping me out. By
the time I reached the parking area, the rain had stopped. I had many
Ovenbirds, a Kentucky Warbler, a Hooded Warbler, and several
Prothonotary Warblers on the drive in. I parked and got out to the
music of Black-and-white Warbler. I looked at a map of the swamp and
headed in. I followed Jericho Ditch Southeast toward the lake. There
were jillions of Yellowthroats, White-eyed Vireos, and Catbirds. Just
10 minutes in I heard a clear, loud song of three descending notes and
a small jumble of 3-4 quicker notes at the end. A Swainson's Warbler?
I turned back and followed the song. It was very loud. I drew
closer, a little puzzled. The song was nearly what I expected, but
not quite right. Finally, after listening for several minutes, I
decided I was listening to a Hooded Warbler. I never did see the
bird, but I'd never heard of variations in Swainson's Warbler songs.
Hooded Warblers, however, have made a liar out me several times
<humble grin>.
The rain started again. It was cool and refreshing and I got
soaked. It soon warmed up and quickly became stifling. It was so
humid, it was difficult to inhale. The water-soaked clothing soon
turn to sweat. Every time I stopped, I could see steam coming off my
shirt. It was uncomfortably sticky. Then the biting flies came out
of hiding. There were the normal Deer Flies, Mosquitoes, and
Greenheads, and some critters I didn't recognize with a flame-orange
heads. Anyways, now I was exhausted, sweaty, sticky, and still minus
a Swainson's Warbler. My shoes were both wet, too. Thwik-thwok.
Thwik-thwok. Thwik-thwok. And my jeans felt like they weighed 100
lbs. With all the heat, flies, and dankness of the swamp, I felt like
I was somewhere along the Amazon River.
1 1/2 hrs into the swamp at a fast pace, I finally came across a
track--a bear track. As I admired the pawprint (about the size of the
palm of my hand), I calculated that it was probably a medium-sized
bear. Fascinating. Then it dawned on my groggy brain. There were no
other tracks because of the heavy morning rains. That meant this
track was less than 2 hrs old! I casually turned and looked around,
my heart beating a little faster than before. I was the only person
for miles (Great Dismal Swamp does not have DisneyWorld participation
this time of year). I wimped out. Ok. I was deliriously exhausted,
too. But I turned around, Swainson's Warbler-less for the third try
this year (missed twice in Texas). As I neared the parking area I
heard the funky Hooded Warbler again as well as a distant Louisiana
Waterthrush.
Disappointed, I hoisted myself into my 190-degree truck, damp,
sticky, and now quite pungent as well. Nothing quite like old body
sweat, dead swamp muck (shoes), and 3 gallons of fermented bug juice.
Add to this *NO* air conditioning and all the mosquitoes that joined
me. Yummy <dark sarcasm>. I pity all the convenience store people
who rung me up while I purchased gallons of wake-up liquids (which did
nothing for me, of course) along the way home. I must have looked as
bad as I smelled, too <grin>. Needless to say, I did not have the
energy to go for Henslow's Sparrow, too. That will have to wait for
another time...
Still light-headed, but no longer stinky <grin>
Greg Miller,
Lusby, MD