Grey Day…YELLOWSTONE, USA (11 Oct.)

The colour of this day in Yellowstone was undoubtedly grey, but that is not to say it was dull; far from it. Having spent considerable time unsuccessfully probing sites from Canyon to Bridge Bay for Great Grey Owl the day before, this then became our raison d’etre for this day. While we were unreservedly grateful for having seen one a few days before, and the views had been unquestionably good, they were cut short when the owl took off earlier than we’d hoped, leaving us yearning deeply for more. We set off in chilly conditions back to the forest meadows near Canyon. Having found no sign of the “Grey Ghost” at the first meadow, we walked deeper into the woods, hoping to find it perched inside instead, and a known hangout for the species. This method failed too, and so Nick Athanas and I worked our way along the road to the next set of meadows. This constituted two meadows dissected by the road that runs through the park. I took one side of the road, while Nick took the other. I had barely worked my way down into “my” meadow, when I heard Nick’s raised voice summoning me from the other side. I hurried across the road and was quickly by Nick’s side, staring at an impressive grey shape perched on a precarious snag, which appeared barely capable of bearing the weight of this large beast. 

Great Grey Owls are reputed to be fearless, something that was not evident from our previous sighting, but became apparent over the next two hours when we watched it showing absolutely no signs of anxiety from the comings and goings of various people reacting to a small crowd gathered in a roadside meadow, and then reacting more lucidly to the owl itself. As we viewed this magnificent owl within clear view of passers by, it did not take long for a small crowd to gather in its wake, which enjoyed watching it while snow fell gently around it, making it a sight to behold. However, once the owl moved into the woods behind, the throng soon disbanded, and after finding it sitting imperially within the forest, we had it all to ourselves for as long as we wanted it. This was the view I had craved, and I was thoroughly satiated. Forgive my fixation with this bird, but it stands head and shoulder above anything else I have seen this year, and ranks up there within my all-time top ten birds, so I am going to milk it, while I can!

 

The weather on this day was topsy-turvy, snow accompanying parts, while other parts were bathed in sunshine, with cerulean skies! In the middle of the day, within the higher reaches of the park, a sudden and particularly heavy snowfall, left some American Bison carrying a soft white burden on their hides, making for a magical scene. 

At lunchtime we left the snow largely behind, but still experienced bone-chilling temperatures. Not what we desired for an open air picnic lunch in a campsite! We had not even managed to make our first sandwiches, when one of the local camp raiders – Grey Jays – swooped in and gobbled up some of our unintended crumbs. I had heard tales of this species being commonly referred to as “Camp Robbers”, due to their larcenous nature, but this was my first direct experience of it, which made for a great, impromptu, photo shoot!

A Ghost No More…YELLOWSTONE USA (9 Oct)

I have been a birder for more than thirty years, and for much of that time I have held Owls to a higher plane than most other birds. Like many who came before me, this group grabs my attention like no other. While all owls create a buzz amongst addicts like me, big owls have an altogether greater lure to them. The largest owl in North America is the Great Grey Owl. This has a distribution that spreads into Europe too, but in spite of me being from that continent, I have never been in a position to try for one. For the past 11 years I have heard “gripping” tales of the classic 2005 North American invasion, where people have informed me they were able to see dozens in a single day, and others even boasted of triple figures! All I needed was just one. I vowed that I would sit and wait for the next invasion, and then I would make my move. Eleven years of impatiently waiting later, and plentiful torment from these legendary tales that have become entrenched within birding folklore, my patience had worn out. As soon as Iain Campbell suggested a fall trip to Yellowstone National Park, I had only one thing in my crosshairs. In the run-up to the trip, I had plowed through eBird to try and work out our best strategy for getting this ashen beast, and put out requests for information on Facebook. The initial news was good - a Great Grey has been regular at Bridge Bay in Yellowstone for much of early autumn and was looking good for us, but then tragedy struck, and this rather cooperative individual turned up deceased, having been accidentally hit by a car. Research going back over the years, revealed regular spots, like Canyon, inside the park, but they were often accompanied by phrases such as “they’re always there, just hard to find”, and other less encouraging statements, which illustrated that in all likelihood we would leave Yellowstone without one. This was echoed by Greg Miller’s experience in the acclaimed book The Big Year, where he only narrowed scored this Phantom of the North in the last leg of his mammoth year. While I tried to prepare myself mentally for not getting one, I could not stop images of this dramatic owl from dominating my thoughts in the run up to the trip. This was only intensified, when we ran into Jim Chagares the evening before, who scrolled through a series of spectacular photos of the recently deceased individual. However, he had better news in that he’d seen another the evening before, in none other than Canyon, where so many had previously mentioned to try for it. We met at a chilling dawn and drove straight to the spruce-fringed meadow, where he’d laid eyes on it only the evening before. A quick sweep of the meadow revealed nothing more than a meadow; devoid of prominently perched owls, and devoid of birds in general, save for the odd raven on the wing, passing overhead. We drove between spots, giving them seemingly cursory glances, and turning up nothing. Then Jim swung his car swiftly into a layby, and tensions were heightened; there off in the distance was a large grey shape sitting on a small spruce, which appeared as if it should be straining under the weight of this huge owl. Jim was calm; I was not. He informed me it would sit there, as they often do, even when confronted by a long line of staring admirers, as can happen in a busy place like Yellowstone. Jim was aware of this, but the owl was seemingly unaware of this, as it promptly took off, and nose-dived into the nearest woods, soon becoming invisible to us. This sent shivers of terror down my spine, for I had not even glared into its eyes by this point, something that is necessary for any bird, but especially alluring with owls that hold a stare like no other group of birds. My nerves were shredded, as the glory that had been expected at my first sighting of a long-awaited owl was completely absent, replaced instead with complete dissatisfaction and disappointment. We walked into the meadow and nearby woods hoping to relocate the fiend, but came up empty. Jim showed surprise at this abnormal behavior, and I was racked with horror. We needed to split up, and soon did. Several times, following the split, a large grey shape emerged from the trees and then buried itself out of sight. The size of the bird in flight was impressive, but its eyes, and that remarkable stare remained frustratingly elusive. 

The curious thing was it appeared not to be reacting to us, and taking flight as a result of any of our actions, but seemed to be looking for a place where it was happy to hunt, and so far that was not in sight of us. Finally, after several more snatches of the bird in the air, it drifted across the road and seemed to drop into a narrow forest gully. Nick Athanas and I hurried to the spot, and were stopped cold, when we found it staring right back at us, perched in a pine, and looking every bit as impressive as it always promised to be in my inner thoughts. We spent a memorable 20 minutes or so with the bird, which at one point pounced with menace into the grass, emerging with nothing obvious. Soon after it took off, and in spite of us feeling we might refind it again, did not manage to relocate it after all. Up until this point in time if you’d asked me for my personal “Bird of the Year”, my immediate answer would be the Northern Saw-whet Owl, which I watched at 4am on crisp April morning on the Upper Peninsula of Michigan; however, now its title was in serious jeopardy. If I’d had just a tad more time with the Grey Ghost the title would have been a shoe-in, but I felt it left me greedily yearning for more, and we vowed to search again for it in our coming days in Yellowstone…

Yellowstone…USA (8 Oct)

…The word Yellowstone is widely revered amongst nature photographers. It has been called many things, among them the Serengeti of North America. Nowhere else on the continent can offer so many large mammals in a short time. Bison speckled with snow, the steely glare from a wolf pack, and the enormous headdress of a stag Elk in rutting season are commonplace images associated with America’s oldest park. And that, was the reason for our visit. Having not seen Black or Brown Bears, Wolf, Bison, or Bighorn Sheep, I had plentiful mammalian reasons for being there. On top of that was my primary target for the trip, the so-called “Grey Ghost”, or “Phantom of the North”; North America’s largest owl, the Great Grey. The Gandalf of Owl species…

We flew into Bozeman, in the state of Montana, but soon after drove into neighboring Wyoming, and Yellowstone National Park, which spans three different US states (Montana, Wyoming, and Idaho). Our arrival in Bozeman was spectacular in itself, as we looked down on the jagged contours of the Rockies as we descended by plane, and were further impressed by the wall of mountains dominating the horizon, as we walked out of the airport. A few hours later, we entered the park itself through the Roosevelt Arch, (near Gardiner), the final stones of which were laid down by the US president of the same name in 1903.

Just past the infamous arch, we began to see some of the abundant wildlife that Yellowstone is justifiably famous for: Pronghorns and Mule Sheep grazed nonchalantly nearby. Moving swiftly, and deeper into the park, we came upon a Yellowstone tradition - a gridlock of vehicles proclaiming the sighting of something special. We raced out of the car and were soon glassing a Black Bear snuffling through the pine-sullied understory. This was my first, and I somewhat arrogantly, thought this was the opening of the proverbial floodgates for the species for me. However, this ended up being the solitary sighting of our time there. A glance at a straw-coloured mountain meadow revealed some massive brown “stains” within it, which proved themselves to be our first gigantic Bison of the trip, an impressive and imposing beast that was to go on to feature daily.

Our day ended with a very fortuitous reunion with a very skilled nature photographer from Indiana (Jim Chagares), whom we had got to know through our many visits to Magee Marsh in Ohio. This was especially lucky, as Jim was already honed in on some key species of the park, after some four weeks on site, (and many years covering it before that). In particular, he floored me with jaw-dropping photos of a recently observed Great Grey Owl, which had my pulse racing and my complete attention! The photo came with a caveat though; the individual so dramatically portrayed within his photos had come to a sad end only days before, when it was hit by a passing car. We had heard this tragic news before we had arrived, and so were somewhat prepared for this unfortunate headline. Jim had better news though, as he’d managed to home in on another ghost just that very evening, in a different spot, and quickly suggested hunting together for it the next day…