23-31 March 2018: Ode to gizzard shad

Here's the star of this week's show:

The fish people at work tell me this is a gizzard shad. No, it's not a bird. Yes, it's dead. In fact, many gizzard shad are dead. That's why they're the star of the show.

Check this out:

If you're like me, you'll probably notice A LOT of gulls in this photo. But look more closely - see all those little black lumps on the ice? Those are all carcasses of gizzard shad. There are even more of them than there are gulls.

The fish people at work also tell me that here in La Crosse, WI, we're at the northernmost limit of the gizzard shad's range. Some years are fine for that species, but if the water gets too cold for too long over the winter, a lot of gizzard shad die. Then they float to the surface and become embedded in the ice. As the ice melts, the buffet is exposed.

And then the birds feast. That photo above is one small section of the ice in front of a new gull-viewing area that the city (county? state?) is building. Well, they call it an "eagle-viewing area," and I guess there are lots of eagles there, but there's an order of magnitude more gulls, so let's call it like it is. I've even seen members of the general public stopping to look at the gulls (and maybe eagles).

Let's zoom out a bit more at that spot: 

It's hard to see at this resolution (clicking on the photo might help), but there's a few thousand gulls there. If I zoom out too much more, you probably can't really see the gulls at all here. But this is still just a portion of the sheet of ice that was covered with gulls this week. I estimated about 7,500 gulls at this one spot - and there were a few thousand more farther down the river.

One day I was gulling my way home from work, hugging the river as much as possible. The riparian route involves some sidewalks (where I bike very slowly and cautiously) and several crosswalk crossings on a new bike path, so it's a little slower than my normal route, but the view has been great this week.

I made a stop behind KFC, where there's a good place to view the gull-covered-ice-covered river. There I saw this:

You might remember that I have been wanting to see a black-backed gull. This is clearly that, despite the poor photographic quality. Much darker than the Herrings and Ring-bills. The slender, long-winged shape means this is a Lesser Black-backed Gull (#86) - a second-year bird, to be specific. (Gull people really like to age gulls. I'm sort of indifferent about aging most of the time, but with a special gull, I'll make the effort.) Lesser Black-backed Gulls (I'll call them LBBGs from here on) live in Eurasia, so you might think this bird would be HUGE news. Well, it's pretty cool, all right, but LBBGs have become increasingly common all over North America in the past couple of decades. It's thought that they're probably breeding somewhere in the eastern North American Arctic, though no one's found out exactly where yet. My personal theory is that LBBGs have discovered a system of wormholes that they're using to travel the globe... which would certainly explain a lot. 

So, this isn't exactly an alert-the-North-American-birding-world sort of bird. It's not even that special in Wisconsin in general - LBBGs are now regular visitors to the Great Lakes. But here on the southwest side of the state, this is an excellent bird indeed. I was thrilled. I only wished I had my scope and camera to get proper photos. But it gave me a chance to try taking photos with my phone through my binoculars, which worked much better than I expected, but obviously won't be winning any photography awards. Still, if a bird is mostly identifiable in the photo, that's great!

The next morning I gulled my way to work. Most of the gulls were now on the east side of the river, following the melting ice (and shad buffet), so morning had become the time to bird. Among the 10,000 or so gulls that I saw, I found this:

That's right - another LBBG! This one a full adult, in lovely light, and I had my scope and DSLR with digiscoping attachment, so I could get a much better photo. Still not going to win any photography awards, but there is no question of the ID of this bird. The yellow legs show up nicely - I cropped the photo to keep both Herring (pink legs, larger) and Ring-billed (yellow legs, smaller) in the image so you can compare them all.

Anyway, that's the good gull news. You might have noticed that LBBG was #86, but that skips quite a few numbers since the last number I mentioned. I probably won't mention every single species in the text if they're expected and not super exciting, but you can always check the sidebar at the right for the full list. In summary, I've also found a few more ducks this week, my first non-Killdeer shorebird (Greater Yellowlegs came in at #82), and first swallow of the year. I was pretty pleased when a flock of Cackling Geese (#83) flew over the house when I happened to step out for a moment, as I'd missed them thus far this year. The best non-gull this week, though, was this guy:

No, not the gulls! The bird on the right - Ross's Goose for #84. Yes, this was the same day that I had only phone + binoculars to try to get photos - but again, it's identifiable. This lone goose was trying its best to blend in with 100 or so gulls, and it was doing a remarkably good job of it. The only other times I've seen Ross's Geese (in Kansas, in previous years), they were flying overhead, mixed into flocks of Snow Geese. It was nice to get great looks (better than this photo!) at a stationary bird, and fun to see that it was no bigger than a Herring Gull! I nearly didn't check this spot on that particular day - it was previously a great gull spot, but they had mostly cleared out as the ice melted - but I'm glad I did, because I might not see this species again this year. The moral of the story is - get out and bird, as often as possible!

Today marks the end of the first quarter of the year, and I'm at a nice round number of 90 species thus far. If only I could continue averaging one species per day for the rest of the year!

19-22 March 2018: Iceland Gull x2!

Gulls! So many gulls! 

This is just one section of the gull madness about half a mile from my office. There has been much, much more gull madness a bit farther down the river, but it's hard to get a good view down there. At this spot, there's a nice little public beach right next to the road where you can set up for a good long look.

Last week, I was excited that there were a few dozen gulls there. This Monday, I stopped by after work and there were hundreds! I had only my binoculars (no scope), but didn't see anything glaringly out of the ordinary.

The next day I had an appointment for a bike fit (to try to address the back pain that's becoming problematic... the bike fit didn't solve it yet, but we'll keep working on it), so I couldn't go gulling that day. On Wednesday I took my scope to work and went gulling afterwards. I had barely started scanning when I saw this:

One of these gulls is not like the others: it's an adult with a "dirty" head (standing with bill tucked into its back near the center of the photo). Herring and Ring-billed gulls get streaking on their heads in the winter, too, but at this point the adults are almost all pure white again (though the subadults are another story). But that gull in the middle has adult-type plumage with a very brown head. Thayer's Gulls (which are now lumped into Iceland Gull, but still a recognizable "type") often have very brown heads. I could also see that the eye was dark (very unusual in Herring)... and I was pretty sure I could see that the underside of the primaries on the right wing was silvery, rather than black. The underside of the primary is diagnostic for Thayer's versus Herring, which otherwise Thayer's can resemble closely.

After seeing those traits and feeling pretty excited, I put my camera onto my scope to take the above picture (and a few more, of course, because digiscoping often does not result in great photos!). Of course, as soon as I took the camera off, the bird started waking up and stretched out a wing! I had a great view of the underside of the primaries then - very silvery - definitely a Thayer's-type Iceland Gull for #76!

I'd had a great look, but I really wanted to try to get decent open-wing shots for documentation purposes. Any gull other than Herring or Ring-billed is flagged as rare in eBird for this area right now (later, Bonaparte's will be common). Given how subtle the differences are between Thayer's and Herring, I wanted to make sure I had photographic evidence - both so that other birders would believe me, and so that I wouldn't start doubting myself!

After the gull woke up, it was wandering around feeding on dead fish here and there. There are SO MANY fish carcasses emerging from the ice as it melts - it's no wonder there are so many gulls and eagles around. 

Thayer's-type Iceland Gull at center, showing dark eye, relatively straight-edged bill (not bulging out near the tip), black upper primaries on the near wing and silver under primaries on the far wing, and extensive streaking on head and neck. With Ring-billed (left) and Herring (right).

Of course, every time I got my scope on the Thayer's, and then got my camera on the scope, and then refocused on the Thayer's... an eagle would barge in, or a helicopter would buzz over (this is right next to the airport), and the gull would be off again! Luckily it always landed again in the same general area. That dark head really helped it stand out from the crowd when I was scanning to refind it.

Finally, after an hour, I managed to have my camera ready when the gull flew!

Thayer's Gull at right, showing the very pale undersides of the primaries. Compare how black the wingtips are on the adult Herring (top right) and Ring-billed (below that). I couldn't have asked for a better comparison photo! The "angel wing" poses are pretty cool too.

Then, of course, the gull was very obliging, providing a number of open-wing shots.

"I'm just going to sit here and hold my wings open for, like, a whole minute while I peck at some fish bits in the water."

Herring Gull says "MINE!" with a ridiculously puffy neck. I don't know why they were fighting when there were dead fish everywhere! It's probably an ego thing.

I was really excited to find this gull. Iceland Gulls have been reported (on eBird) in La Crosse County in just 3 of the past 5 years - none last year, which was my first year here. I thought I might have to bike clear across the state to find an Iceland Gull this year - but here was one right next to my office! In my 5MR and 7.5MR patches to boot! Plus, I'd found it myself, which is always more satisfying than chasing someone else's find - and I had intentionally been looking for rare gulls, rather than just happening upon it. That gull made my week.

But then... I found another Iceland Gull the next day!

First-year Kumlien's-type Iceland Gull at the back left - the pale brown bird with telltale pale wingtips. This was how it was standing when I first found it, and I knew I'd have to see an open wing to be sure it wasn't just a bleached Herring. Some gulls can get REALLY bleached after spending the winter at lower latitudes.

There we go! Sorry about the fuzzy photos - there was a lot of heat shimmer from the bright sun.

This first-year bird was a Kumlien's-type Iceland Gull - somewhere in between a Thayer's (black primaries as an adult) and Iceland (pure white primaries) as a result of interbreeding between those two types. 

So - not just one, but TWO Iceland Gulls! Two days in a row! That's pretty awesome... although now it kind of feels like, ho hum, just another Iceland in La Crosse, just like every day! But I'll definitely appreciate the good gulling while it lasts. 

The usual scarcity of interesting gulls around here could very well be simply because there aren't many people looking - probably no one on most days. I happen to like gulls, and I happen to work next to a great gull spot, and I'm pretty motivated to get out and find unusual species that I didn't find last year - so, who knows? Maybe some more interesting gulls will turn up. I also got to share the Kumlien's with a couple of other birders today - maybe more people will get bitten by the gull bug and start looking more often!

12-17 March 2018: Gulls!, Great(er) waterfowl, and a shrike stakeout

Gulls! We have gulls! Gulls have had a special place in my heart ever since I did my master's research on Glaucous Gulls. Unfortunately, before - but not after - that time was when I frequented regions where one might expect to find many different interesting gull species. Before my master's, I wasn't paying enough attention. Since then, I haven't had enough gulls. La Crosse does not usually have enough gulls, either. We get tons of Ring-bills and a few Herring, and some Franklin's and Bonaparte's on migration. No white-wingers; no black-backs. Usually. But you never know when one might show up. Except, you can be pretty sure that it will not be when there are zero other gulls around (like all winter). Well, the Ring-bills and Herring Gulls (#67) are back now... so it's time to start looking at gulls.

One convenient place to look at gulls is about half a mile from my office, so I swung past there most days this week. The best day had 27 Ring-bills and 9 Herrings: these are VERY small numbers compared to anywhere that would be considered "gully", but kind of newsworthy here, especially to have "so many" Herring standing on the beach and inviting you to study them. No white-wingers; no black-backs. (Yet?) All days had 30-40 Bald Eagles in easy view, often actively fishing, picking at dead fish on the ice, half-heartedly chasing Hooded Mergansers, and brawling. The late-afternoon light is stellar in that spot, and every day there were also several people there, sitting in their cars or standing on the beach to photograph and watch the eagles. I'm pretty sure I was the only one looking at the gulls...

Couple of FOGYs on my commute this week: a kettle of Turkey Vultures (#68) circling over my street when I got home one day (don't worry - everyone at home was fine!), and a Great Blue Heron (#69) on my way to work the next day.

The ice is continuing to break up on Lake Onalaska, slowly but surely. One day this week I headed over to my favorite waterfowling spot (the spillway on the northwest part of French Island) before work. The morning was chilly, but the very light breeze was at my back - and so was the sun, which is why I bird that spot in the morning. Early morning also means minimal thermal distortion when looking through a scope. It was a bit bumpy biking out the spillway because the surface had been muddy, then walked upon, then frozen - but it was manageable. There were two good groups of diving ducks within easy scope view - the ice is still keeping them close to the spillway - and another group farther out that I could still ID, but not pick through for the more subtle rarities with confidence. Most were Lesser Scaup (~1200), with some Canvasbacks, Buffleheads, Common Goldeneyes, Ring-necked Ducks (#70), and a single Gadwall (#71). All of those are expected here at this time of year, and many of them will become more abundant over the next few weeks. 

BUT - I was carefully checking the Lesser Scaup. Lessers are common in this area - thousands can be seen from this particular spot during migration - but Greaters are not. Last year I picked through thousands of scaup and never confirmed a Greater. I never even had a good candidate that was too far away to tell for sure. (I got a lot of practice with Lessers vs Greaters during a winter in Connecticut when my job was to survey waterfowl, all day every day, and there were thousands of both species every day, often mixing together. I say this because I know how tricky the two species can be to separate - but it's definitely possible when you know what you're looking for.) Anyway, I was picking through the scaup closest to the spillway when a female caught my eye because the white patches around her bill were very large. I've found that to be a good way to quickly find candidate Greaters, although other cues are needed for a definitive ID. Well, she gave me a definitive ID with direct comparison to the female Lessers around her - her head was rounder without the peak at the back, her bill was wider, and her nail (the black tip on the bill) was VERY wide, extending across almost the whole tip. Definitely a Greater Scaup for #72! A moment later her mate made himself known too, with a rounded head and a wide bill (although I didn't get a good look at his nail). I wasn't sure I would find Greater Scaup at all this year - certainly not in my home county - so this was a good morning. 

On St. Patrick's Day - I wasn't wearing green, but I was definitely green in spirit - I went on a shrike stakeout. Gwyn had seen a Northern Shrike at the same place twice, flying around and calling and generally impossible to miss. The relevant area was clearly defined as Puppy Lane:

The relevant area was also not very large. To make a long story short, I spent three hours there... with no shrike. Northern Shrike is becoming a great candidate for my nemesis for the year (although it's early yet - I'm sure there will be many more candidates!). 

It was a beautiful day, though, and I did get a couple of FOGYs in passing: Wood Duck (#73) and Tundra Swan (#74). It was my most diverse checklist yet this year, with 32 species. In a couple of months, a good checklist will top 80 species - more than I've seen so far this year!

10 March 2018: Patch-birding, owling, and a few more FOGYs

The other day I was reading about "5MR" (five-mile radius) birding, which reminded me that Wisconsin has a patch-birding competition. Patch-birding has been gaining in popularity in the last few years. So many birders focus on going new places all over the world - which is the best way to find new birds to add to your life list. But many birders are gravitating more and more to birding locally, really getting to know the area and watching the seasons change. During migration, the birds come to you, and it's always thrilling when each species returns. 

The definition of a "patch" varies depending on whom you ask; eBird prefers patches to be small, usually a single hotspot (but you can define your patch however you want), while the Wisconsin Local Patch Challenge uses a 7.5-mile radius centered on the birder's home. In all of those cases, though, a patch lends itself well to green birding. So, naturally, I set up my patches (one 5MR and one 7.5MR) in eBird to see what they looked like. I was surprised by how much ground the 7.5MR patch covered - and even more surprised by how many species it accounted for! Last year I had 213 species on my green list; of those, I saw 195 within my 7.5MR patch. Does that mean that it was a waste of time and energy for me to bike beyond that patch? Of course not - every bird counts, and biking is great exercise regardless, and exploring is fun. But it does demonstrate how much you can find close to home - and I wasn't even trying to build my patch list last year. Many patch-birders in Wisconsin have found well over 200 (even over 250) species in their patch, which is pretty impressive.

My 7.5-mile-radius patch, centered on Onalaska in southwest Wisconsin. Note the state borders, shown as pale, thin lines - the southwest slice of the circle is in Minnesota and Iowa. I'll probably never bird there because those species wouldn't count toward the Wisconsin Green Birding Challenge! Plus, getting there is annoying - the closest bridge over the river is I-90, which I will not be traveling by bike. I drew the patch in Google Earth with the "ruler" tool.

Of course, now that I've defined my patches, I want to build those lists this year! I've already added a few local species, and when I tallied up the patches, I found that overall (last year plus a few new species so far this year), I was sitting at 199 species in the 7.5MR patch. That's annoyingly close to 200, so of course I started looking forward to the next new species I would find. The 5MR patch had 194 species - again, going a little farther for 7.5MR added only a little diversity - so it'll be fun to build that to 200 as well.

The forecast for Saturday was mild and calm, so I left home in the dark to listen for owls. The clouds had cleared overnight and it was rather colder than expected (16 F when I left home). I love biking in the dark and birding by ear; there's very little traffic before 6am on a weekend, so it's quiet and I can concentrate on the birds. Northern Cardinals were the first to wake up - I never realize how many of them there are when I'm out in the daylight! - followed by robins and Song Sparrows. A faint Barred Owl in the distance was the only owl I heard before dawn, but it was still nice to be out.

I was biking up a valley that hosts an interesting mix of brand new development and old farmsteads. There's a nice mix of habitats there, and I saw a couple of deer bedded down under the ornamental spruce trees in the yard of a new house. My first FOGY (first-of-green-year) of the day was a group of Wild Turkeys (#63) gobbling in the woods; on my way back down later, I saw that there were at least 11 of them sauntering across a field. This was also a new species for both my patches!

Looking up Smith Valley - agriculture meets new condominiums.

I walked my bike periodically on my way back down the valley, because I was too cold to ride downhill! Walking helps reduce the self-generated windchill and get some blood flowing to my fingers and toes. Then I biked up another side road, this one sans condos, which was devoid of car traffic. A few Song Sparrows gritting on the side of the road got my hopes up, but alas, they were not longspurs or buntings.

Spot the sparrows. We had our biggest snowstorm yet early last week, and the fields are still covered, so the birds like the bare areas next to the roads.

I found a Purple Finch (#64) on my way back down that road. Another quiet road yielded a Great Horned Owl (#65) singing at 9am, which made it seem like my early departure had been for nothing! (Some birders don't count heard-only birds on their lists, but I do, partly so that I don't face the temptation to go out with a spotlight or tromp around in breeding habitat just so I can see a bird that I've heard while potentially stressing it out in the process.) A couple of Eastern Meadowlarks (#66) in a snow-covered corn field were a nice surprise at the end of the ride. I rode a total of 33 miles over 7 hours, but I'd left so early that I was still home in time for lunch!

1-3 March 2018: FOGYs everywhere, finally some open water, and a long windy ride

It's that time of year - I keep finding first-of-green-year species without even trying! And spring migration has barely begun! On March 1st I saw a female Ring-necked Pheasant (#52) on my commute. Pheasants are not hard to find elsewhere in the county, but this was definitely NOT a species I expected to see next to the bike path that runs between railroad tracks and a neighborhood. It's a blended suburban-industrial area that happens to have a marshy area next to the railroad tracks - I heard woodcock there last spring. I guess a small scrap of habitat is better than no habitat! I also heard and saw Red-winged Blackbirds (#53) and a Common Grackle (#54) on my commute that day. 

Meanwhile, I'd been watching the daily satellite images to see when the ice started breaking up on Lake Onalaska. Based on last year's images, one of the first areas to break up is also one of my favorite places to go waterbirding. It's just 2.5 miles from work and hosted thousands of birds on any given day last spring. It looked like it was finally starting to open up (I say "finally" only because I've been waiting impatiently - it's not a late spring or anything), so I headed out to see what I could find on the 2nd before work. There were birds! Only a few hundred individuals, but five FOGYs: Common Merganser (#55), Canvasback (#56), Bufflehead (#57), Lesser Scaup (#58), and Redhead (#59). Two swans flew over but I didn't get a look at their bills and they were silent, so they remained unidentified and uncounted. Some of my first field jobs involved marathon surveys of many thousands of waterfowl, and all these birds retain a special place in my heart. Just wait until waterfowl migration really ramps up - it's quite a spectacle on the Mississippi!

The weather was stellar on the 2nd, but I had a meeting scheduled later that morning, so I couldn't take any more time off work (darn). The forecast for the 3rd (Saturday) was shaping up to be decent but potentially breezy. The wind was out of the southeast, so I headed southeast up into the bluffs (it's always nice to know I'll have a tailwind to push me home after a long ride). I was hoping to find some flocks of geese that might have more than just Canadas - those flocks have been passing over on their way to somewhere farther north that must have open water. There was also an off chance of finding a Golden Eagle out in that area; they're always sparse but eagle surveys typically find one or two around there. But it's also getting a little late in the season for them.

For the first hour of the ride, I was mostly making distance to the area I wanted to reach. Heard-only Sandhill Cranes (#60) and three Trumpeter Swans (#61) were nice to find en route. Then the geese started flying over - but, frustratingly, they were all backlit, distant, and most individuals were silent, with only a few honks from each flock! I could tell there were smaller species in with the Canadas, but that's all I could tell. I couldn't even be entirely sure that they weren't white geese, but they were probably Cackling or Greater White-fronted. But you can't count a "probably" or an "either/or!" Finally, I heard a single call from a Greater White-fronted Goose (#62). 

This was a time when it was super helpful to be biking rather than driving. Geese flying high against a blue sky are hard to see, so hearing them is often the first clue to their presence. The various species are also identifiable by call. If I'd been in a car, I probably never would have seen most of those flocks - and I wouldn't have heard that one GWFG call, even if I'd been driving with the windows down. It's also possible to stop anywhere on a bike and step off the road, whereas a car would be blocking traffic if it stopped.

I stopped for second breakfast at a trailhead at the Coulee Experimental Forest. Not a lot of bird activity up there - the geese had stopped flying over, and nothing else interesting happened to pass by (well, all birds are interesting, but you know what I mean!). The wind was starting to gust so I figured I'd better continue and see how far I could get before it got too strong.

Turned out that wasn't very far... I fought a headwind for several miles on Antony Road, watching the sky for Golden Eagles. It was a good day to be a raptor, with Rough-legged Hawks, Red-tailed Hawks, Northern Harrier, and Bald Eagles all up riding the wind, but alas, no Goldens. I also didn't happen upon any of those darn longspurs or buntings or shrikes in the open areas.

I'd hoped to continue a bit farther, but biking into the headwind had become more arduous than fun by the, so I turned onto a shorter route home. I was really glad I'd made that decision when I did, because the crosswind was awful! Luckily I only had to deal with it for a few miles before I could drop back down into the valley. The rest of the way home I had a smokin' tailwind or occasionally a slight (but not scary) crosswind. It's tough to judge the wind forecast around here, though I'm learning what areas are best to avoid when a "moderate breeze" is expected! 

So, yes, bike-birding can be limiting because you might not want to be out in all weather. Still, I think this is another advantage of bike-birding: I'm much more attuned to the weather (current or forecast), and sometimes that's helpful because the best place to bird can be weather-dependent. Plus, I'm really out there in the elements, just like the birds, so it's an immersive experience rather than what could become a spectator sport.

43 miles that day - another long ride, and this time including a fairly long climb up a steep hill, plus a headwind for a while. I was tired when I got back! And starving, even though I'd been downing snacks as fast as I could all morning! A steady stream of calories is absolutely crucial to avoid "bonking," which I'm pretty susceptible to; so this was a good reminder that yes, I really need to keep cramming in more food even when I'm biking and birding and don't feel at all like eating anything. Especially as I start taking longer rides later in the spring. If I can't make it home under my own power, any new species from that day won't count for my green list! (Oh, I guess my physical well-being is important too... ;-) )

24-26 February 2018: Spring is springing!

We've had some less-than-ideal weather lately, with freezing rain and a fair bit of wind. My studded tires are fine on ice, but it's the other road-users I'm worried about! Then weekend of the 24-25th was pretty breezy, so I did a quick birding trip around town and then worked so I could take Monday off. 

The quick trip involved a stop at the Onalaska Cemetery, which hosts a variety of conifer trees that are otherwise very scarce locally - thus there's the potential for some locally interesting birds. The Pine Siskins were singing up a storm - the first time I'd heard them sing this year. Then of course there was a male singing away in our yard when I got home! 

Pine Siskin modeling the abundant spruce cones at the Onalaska Cemetery

I picked up one first-of-green-year species at the cemetery: Golden-crowned Kinglet (#45). Then I swung by Irvin Fishing Hole on the Mississippi River - there's not usually a lot of waterbirds at that spot, but it was one of the only patches of open water in the area. That day there were three Hooded Mergansers (#46). 

The weather was a whole lot nicer on Monday. Temperatures got up into the 40s F, it was sunny, and there was only a light breeze. I headed out for a longer trip to the agricultural area around the town of Trempealeau. We'd gotten about an inch of snow on Saturday, which was still blanketing the fields, but the roads were (mostly) clear for biking. I was hoping the snow would push birds out onto the roads. I feel like a broken record when I keep saying that I'm looking for Snow Buntings and Lapland Longspurs and Northern Shrikes... but I'm still looking! They'll all leave for the year in another month or so, so if I don't break the pattern and find them soon, I'll have to wait and try again in the fall. 

Horned Lark picking seeds off a weed in a soybean field. Weeds are important!

In the meantime - spring sprung! I biked around the fields for a few hours, and by the time I started heading home, all the snow had melted. FOGYs included Canada Goose (#47), Killdeer (#48; a new spring arrival), lovely views of a male Northern Harrier (#49), and Eastern Bluebird (#50). When I was nearly home, a Ring-billed Gull (#51) flew over, looking forlornly at the ice-covered lake (or maybe I was the one looking forlornly at it...). Gulls pretty well clear out of here for the winter, unlike other, more fortunate areas of Wisconsin, so a gull is definitely a sign of spring.

I don't really have a sense for how quickly I "need" to be accumulating species this year. Last year (my first year here) I birded only occasionally until later in March. There are lots of common species that I'm not too worried about adding as soon as possible - I'm more worried about those darn buntings and longspurs! Still, it was nice to break 50.

This trip was 46 miles in total, which was about double the length of any other ride I've done this year. I bike almost every day (14 miles round-trip to work in addition to birding), but longer rides are definitely a different beast. The route was almost entirely flat, so I knew I could make the distance. I'm still getting used to my new bike, which I got last October, and figuring out how to make it work over longer distances. Biking has never hurt my back before, but that's becoming an issue on long rides on this bike, so I'll have to work on my riding position and see what I can do about that! Otherwise, I felt fine but tired when I got home - the headwind on the way home was annoying, but never so bad that I wasn't sure whether I would make it! Definitely nice to finally get out for a good long ride.