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June 26, 2003  We Reach the Far East (third installment of the Alberta Trip) The morning of the Lesser Slave Lake Songbird festival dawned sunny. I sprang from bed at 5 AM which I thought seemed early, forgetting that I still hadn’t set my watch to Alberta time. Overhead the Canada Warbler was singing as I stuffed all essentials into the van, leaving the tent still pitched. I then headed down the road 7 km to the observatory site where the festival was to be held. The plan was that I would watch some bird banding, go on one guided walk and return to camp to get my friend in time for the pancake breakfast. When I got to the parking lot on the shore of Lesser Slave Lake a number of cars were already there and a good crowd was milling about. Luckily things were still a bit early so I had a chance to follow the leader of the observatory as he did a morning census of the birds present. Next, I linked up with a group taking to the trails to hear and see the local birds. The couple conducting this walk first led us to a small building where birds, previously captured in nets, were being banded. A large crowd had gathered in the building and even though most of the children crowded around the front there was still a good view from the back of the room. The bander, the same man who had conducted the morning bird census, removed a male Redstart from a small bag. As he held the Redstart by the legs he talked to the crowd about migrant birds, conducted a visual inspection of the Redstart, and relayed the information to an assistant who wrote it all down. When all necessary information was gathered the bander stuck his hand out an opening in the wall beside him and released the Redstart. The attentive crowd had plenty of questions but I slipped out to join the leaders of our walk. Adept at sound identity, as these two were, they directed our attentions to many of the bird sounds around us. I was interested to learn the call of the Black and White Warbler that we heard but could not pick out of the canopy foliage. I returned to the parking lot to have a cup of coffee at the tents now blooming on the grass. I decided to return to the campsite and planned to take in the pancake breakfast upon my return. Back at camp, while wrestling the tent to the ground, I realized that I left my binoculars back at the festival on the table where I had my coffee. After returning to the Songbird Festival I marched over to the spot where I thought I had left my binoculars and there they sat, right beside a brochure that I’d also left behind. I waxed incredulous about the honesty of the birding crowd but had to laugh when my friend pointed out that I probably had the cheapest binoculars there. Unfortunately, during our absence the pancake breakfast completely sold out. The only consolation was that the remaining coffee was free. With coffee in hand we walked toward the road along which the nets that catch the birds were located. Someone mentioned that a Canada Warbler was being extricated from the netting so I ducked into one of the side trails to watch. I moved close to the action as a skilled assistant worked on the bird while another stood by. It was very interesting to see a bird that only yesterday I claimed as a lifer. This captive bird was a male Canada and had a very yellow underside, streaked with black marks and a unique set of eye rings and lines that formed spectacles on the face. I took several pictures of the event and moved back to let others see. I was told that an Ovenbird had been banded very early that morning another species that I would have liked to see up close. Back at the tents I looked over the literature about the Lesser Slave Lake Bird Observatory. This bird observatory is the most northerly in Canada. More information can be gathered about it by looking for their web page on the Internet. I debated joining to support this undertaking and still feel I might but for the moment I purchased a T-shirt with a Western Tanager and the name of the observatory emblazoned on it. Since there was no breakfast to be had we went to Slave Lake, the nearby town where we ate and studied our next move. The Songbird Festival was on again the next day with walks to Marten Mountain, a place where I was told many of the Warblers I was seeking could be seen. Again the wanderlust got me and soon we were heading further east. We didn’t drive far this day and stopped at Lawrence Lake, a campsite near the road. As we stepped out on the grass of the boat launch area I could hear a Baltimore Oriole singing. We decided to stay at this spot for the night and spent the afternoon investigating the area. By late afternoon it became obvious that this lake was very attractive to all manner of birds that like fish. Pelicans flew overhead. Cormorants passed in small flocks. Red-necked Grebes whinnied. Unidentified Terns flew overhead. Osprey chirped and tussled with Bald Eagles. Mergansers cruised the lake. And all the while the Baltimore Oriole sang through the day. A storm hit that night and drenched the tent. Luckily we took to the van as darkness fell and thunder rolled. The next day I was pointing at the map, saying the words Lac La Biche so we headed that direction. The day was sunny. There were many interesting rolling hills and much farm country to enjoy. I was amazed at the number of freshly killed deer along the road. Despite a wide right of way, I noticed how difficult it was to see the White-tailed Deer and at night it must be very difficult indeed. It was Sunday morning when we drove into Athabasca, a beautiful town that is a combination of new and old. Situated on the Athabasca River, it has many historic buildings sprinkled up the hilly streets and a nice park with a band shell. We stopped for coffee and then continued on, soon reaching Lac La Biche. Hundreds of Gulls massed on a strip of land near the shopping centre. Most were Franklin’s and Ring-billed Gulls. A visit to tourist information netted me a checklist of birds in the area. From the building that housed tourist information we could see, across the waters of Lac La Biche, a causeway that led to an island, the site of Winston Churchill Provincial Park, the likely site of tonight’s camp. As we turned onto the causeway road I was keenly aware that this is the farthest we would go east on this trip. To put it in a nutshell the island park was a great place for birds. I heard and saw Mourning Warblers, Black and White Warbler, California Gull, Catbird, Brown Creepers, White-throated Sparrows, Swainson’s Thrush, White Pelicans, Double Crested Cormorants, Eastern Phoebe, Ovenbirds, Great Horned Owls, many Winter Wrens which surprised me, Red-eyed Vireo, and a lifer I should describe in more detail. It was the morning after we arrived at this campsite. I was out early walking the quiet gravel roads that circle the island listening to all kinds of new sounds. I peered and stalked a lispy Warbler call then a stronger somewhat familiar song. Though I could see Boreal Chickadees, Siskins and Kinglets I couldn’t find the unknowns. Finally I spied a Warbler on the tip of a spruce branch 60 feet up. It moved about and I could see many of its salient features. It sang frequently as I watched. It was for all intents and purposes a Townsend’s Warbler. At one point it sang with its back to me and I noticed it had a greenish hind neck and top of head. Still I thought nothing of the feature. I concluded that I was seeing and listening to a Townsend’s Warbler with a familiar but different song than those I am accustomed to. Finally back at camp I looked up the Townsend’s Warbler and found that first, there are no Townsend’s in this area and that a very similar Warbler, the Black-throated Green Warbler has a greenish hind neck and top of head. I had unknowingly got myself a lifer. This was the Black-throated Green Warbler a frequenter of much the same habitat as the Townsend’s and surprisingly much the same bird in many ways. To e-mail Tom CLICK HERE To look at previous column CLICK HERE |
