Stoked

April 3

We got into the Molino Basin campground late the previous night, and had another of those strange experiences where we wake up and say, “Oh, so this is what our campsite looks like, I guess.” And it was a nice one. The best birding of the day turned out to be right there in the desert scrub, as I tried to avoid packing the car by hearing interesting things and chasing them down. This haphazard process produced the only new species of the day, a Dusky-capped Flycatcher. I never did get a good look, but the calls were distinctive enough. We took a short hike in search of the Crissal Thrasher. This species is becoming what you might call a “nemesis bird” for us, in that we have looked specifically for it a number of times and come up empty-handed. It is known for being secretive, so I guess we won’t be too hard on ourselves about the whole thing.

We drove up higher into the Santa Catalina Mountains, to Bear Canyon, where we took a short hike that got us up high pretty fast. Unfortunately, the birds did not want to come with us. And the peace was kind of disrupted by a lot of mowing and maintenance being done on the nearby campground. “How about that serenity,” I felt like saying (that probably means little if you haven’t seen the Australian movie “The Castle” —in which case you probably need to see it!).
The rest of the day was spent on errands, groceries, internet, and planning. As exciting as all of that sounds, I will spare you the gory details. Suffice it to say, we were uncharacteristically productive, and yet somehow still have lots of things left to tackle another day. We spent the night at nearby Catalina State Park, with an Elf Owl yapping nearby.

P.S. Driving in Tucson has now been removed from my list of things I would recommend that anyone ever do if it could be avoided.

April 4

Catalina State Park has a trail called “Birding Trail.” On the basis that this was not just a convenient name, we spent the early morning wandering this cross-section of mesquite, desert scrub, and riparian habitats. We were stumped by a bizarre noise coming out of the denser Bosque on the way back, and every time we tried to sneak up for a look, we would suddenly hear the call from much farther away. We finally by chance met up with the singing culprit on the way out, a Gambel’s Quail, which apparently has at least two bizarre calls, only one of which we’d previously encountered. Another fun new noise that was easier to identify was the Rufous-winged Sparrow’s song, which sounds like a ball dropping and then bouncing up and down until it finally comes to rest.

We headed back into Tucson to finish one last errand. At the Tucson Audubon nature Store, Abby got a spiffy new pair of binoculars! Technically, as we recently read, we should call it a binocular (singular). But, what can I say, we’re rebels at heart. Also, if you've read this far, you deserve to finally learn what the heck the title of this post means. Abby and I now both are wearing Stokes binoculars. Hence, we are "Stoked." She now looks as goofy as I do with her binocular harness on. It’s nice to have some help carrying this particular torch. (Edit: It is impossible to look as goofy as Don with his binocular harness, Australian cattleman hat, long underwear, cheese juggling shirt, and chaco sandals combination. –A.M.)

Later, we visited the Western section of the Saguaro National Park, where we’d been two years ago during a Williams Outing Club trip to the Grand Canyon. This is a place that definitely can stand a second look, bizarre cactus totems springing up everywhere you turn. But it’s amazing how different it feels now that our focus has changed. All these birds were probably flying in front of our car then too, but I was oblivious to their presence, much less aware of what kind they were. We’re staying at the very same Gilbert Ray Campground, where we’ll spend our final night in this region before heading out tomorrow to California and the Salton Sea. Arizona, it’s been real.