--------------- 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 ______________________________ Forward Header _____________________________ _____ 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