Howdy all! Ahhh! Much better. Got all my targets save South Polar Skua and one in the bag a little early, Cassin's Vireo. Somewhat surprising was the total lack of Cassin's Auklets (a CA target, but was certainly possible here). Year list is now at 677. Additions: Crested Myna Vaux's Swift Cassin's Vireo Xantu's Hummingbird Black Swift Pink-footed Shearwater Black-footed Albatross Sabine's Gull Chukar Gray Partridge Pacific-slope Flycatcher Other goodies: Blue Grouse Red-breasted Sapsucker Chestnut-backed Chickadee Rufous Hummingbird Olive-sided Flycatcher Baird's Sandpiper LAYSAN ALBATROSS Fork-tailed Storm-Petrel Leach's Storm-Petrel Long-tailed Jaeger Pomerine Jaeger Northern Fulmar Sooty Shearwater Rhinocerus Auklet Tufted Puffin On the road from SEA-TAC airport by 1:30am on Thursday. Dozed off after being awake for 24 hrs. Wakened to myself saying outloud, "Well, it's not a Thayer's" (Ha! Where did this come from?) as I swerved back onto the highway. Startled and exhausted I succumbed to a roadside rest and 1 1/2 hrs sleep in my comfy economy rental. Up at 5am, it was already twilight. I boogied on up to Richmond, BC to meet birding friend, Mike Toochin (fellow Attuvian). At least, I was hoping he was my friend when I knocked on his door at 5:45am! <grin> At his suggestion (and my body's plea), I allowed myself two more hrs of delightful slumber. I called and made arrangements to go see the Xantu's Hummingbird. We headed out to catch the ferry to Gibsons. En route, we did the old 5-minute pitstop and got the lister's quick tick on Crested Myna (#667). Thanks Mike! We were on a roll--or so I thought. About 3/4 way, Mike's truck broke down. We had to get it towed across town. Rough. A crimp in my tight schedule. Fortunately, we were able to finagle a way to get my rental car for some late afternoon birding. We drove up Mt Seymour and saw several Vaux's Swifts (#668). Forests on the whole, however, were very quiet. I visited the famous shorebird area at Iona in the evening. Good numbers of peeps, with several Baird's, but little else. Out the door at 6am on Friday, Mike and I headed toward the ferry again. The 40-minute ferry ride was rather birdless. In another 20 minutes we were at the Xantu's Hummingbird locale. I was met with a negative report. The hummer had not been seen the last 2 days until 6pm. Oh, well. I followed my on-going philosophy: Put yourself at the right place and be diligent. Birds were singing all around the treed areas surrounding the yard. Fitzbew. Willow Flycatchers were everywhere. Zheeeeeeeup. Pine Siskins. Chick-a-dee-dee. Chestnut-backed Chickadees were coming to the seed feeders. Tsick-tsick-tsick. Rufous Hummingbirds were coming in to the sugar water. Cheerup-Chiree. Cassin's Vireo (#669). I was excited as I watched yet another year bird. Birds were all over. My wait was not long for the target. The female Xantu's Hummingbird (#670) came in to the upper feeder at about 8:45am for about a 20-second visit. The bird was beautiful. The exhileration was sweet as I took in the combination of the bird's rarity as well as its pretty coloration. The tiny green sequins on its back were tinged with a goldish hue, giving the green a much warmer look. The rufous in the tail was a complement to its beauty. The combination of its black mask and the large white eye-stripe was strongly reminiscent of White-eared Hummingbird. The entire bill was decurved and visible with the naked eye. It's wingbeats appeared to be a little slower than the Rufous Hummers, and the call notes were much softer and less frequent. We stayed and watched the hummer come in for 3 more visits. We finally pulled ourselves away from this pretty setting and hustled to catch the 10:20am return ferry. We waited in a long line, but finally made it. We birded up Cypress Bowl stopping and looking and listening often for Pacific-slope Flycatcher and Black Swift. We found a single Olive-sided Flycatcher and a bonus bird, female Blue Grouse right along side of the road. We stopped as I ogled the bird just 4 ft outside my passenger window. Impressive. Again, the forests though pretty, were very quiet. I enjoyed many of the pullouts with spectacular views of the islands in the distance. I breathed in the fresh, thin, high-mountain air of the Pacific Northwest. It really was breathtaking! I left Richmond, BC at around 6:30pm. I had a good 5-7 hr drive ahead of me to reach Westport, WA, depending greatly on the Seattle rush hour. Fortunately, I left late enough to miss the biggest mess. It was twilight as a peach-colored, full moon loomed over the horizon. It was so clear and the moon so bright, that it was easy to make out that mighty, snow-covered, purple majesty, Mt. Ranier in the evening light. What a treat to partake of this grand setting! I arrived in Westport, Washington, at 12:30am, only to find the city motels entirely filled. No vacancies anywhere. After searching, I drove the half an hour back to Aberdeen for the night. I hit the sack and promptly fell asleep. Three hours later my wake-up call sent me through the ceiling. By this time, the short nights were catching up with me. I felt pretty foggy. In addition, the road to Westport had spotty fog, too. 5:20am. I did not have much time to spare. A bird flew across the road in front of me. I squinted up through the top of my windshield, desperately trying to make out any details. Though groggy, I processed what I had seen. Size of a small nighthawk. A small nighthawk? It wasn't registering. Thinner wings. Thinner, *stiffer*, wings. All dark. Quick wingbeat. Within a couple seconds the second bird crossed the road, this one closer to the car. "Black Swift!", I exclaimed outloud to myself. #671... To me, this was another personal milestone. 671 was the number that Kenn Kaufman had reached during his big year. Much more information is available now, of course, flying across the country sure is easier than thumbing, and don't forget the extra 20-30 species we have now due to splits. But it meant something to me personally anyways. My dream is coming true. I am seeing all these birds and going to all these places myself. I'm not reading about someone else doing it. I'm actually there!!! I rubbed my eyes in disbelief at my most recent addition. Ha! Maybe I *should* by a lottery ticket! At the dock on Saturday morning, I boarded the Monte Carlo. This was the famous Terry Wahl Westport pelagic trip. Kenn Kaufman had taken a Westport pelagic 25 years ago during his big year in 1973. I was full of eager anticipation. The seas were calm as we motored out from the harbor. Soon I was seeing Pigeon Guillemots, Rhinocerus Auklets, and Sooty Shearwaters. And more Sooty Shearwaters. In fact, they were everywhere I looked. Near. Far. In front of the boat. Behind the boat. Seeing *any* birds on a pelagic trip is more fun than waiting. A couple hours out we saw our first Pink-footed Shearwater (#672). I was impressed how much these birds reminded me of Cory's Shearwaters off the East Coast. Another hour and I saw my first of many Black-footed Albatrosses (#673). It always sends chills up and down my spine when viewing the swells on the horizon and the huge long-winged form of an albatross arcs above the horizon line. Today was no different. My eyes bulged wide open and my voice exclaimed excitedly, "Albatross!!!". I love those birds. Soon we came upon my favorite gull: Sabine's Gull (#674). In fact, there were 7 of them with one immature. Now I'm drooling. This is *such* a strikingly beautiful bird. Oh, my...and close enough to see the yellow-tipped bills, too. I think I held my breath to watch them as they passed. Awesome! Northern Fulmars were all around the boat this far out, both light and dark phases (and some in-between, too). And then we found the bird du jour--a Laysan's Albatross. Although not a new bird for the year (Attu), seeing one sit on the water at fairly close range is a most exciting experience. And it's a great bird for the lower 48, too! As we made a wide sweeping turn to head back, we all got good looks at an adult Long-tailed Jaeger and a Tufted Puffin. Closer to shore we found many more Rhinocerus Auklets and an adult, light phase, Pomerine Jaeger. What a good day out! Drove to Olympia, WA for the evening. I allowed myself to sleep in until 7:30am on Sunday morning. I got to Evergreen St College by 9:00am at a location for Pacific-slope Flycatcher. All was quiet this morning, however. Not wanting to waste any time, I headed for Ellensberg, WA to check the airport for Gray Partridge. I found it quite overgrown and unfortunately, pretty difficult to find anything. Nothing was calling in the early afternoon either. I birded the surrounding area for a couple hours in hopes of being able to nix my plans to drive to Boise, ID. Finally, I made the 1/2 hr drive East to the little town of Vantage and checked along the Columbia River for Chukars. If I got the Chukar, I would head back to Ellensberg for Gray Partridge. But I found no Chukars either. It's great habitat. There's just lots of it and it was the wrong time of day, too. I followed the voice of my inner birder against the desires of my sleep-deprived body. Onwards to Idaho. Boise, that is. Land of the wanted "chickens". 500 miles later, I arrived after dark in a different timezone, bought a map, and checked into a motel. After checking my location and finding the location of the birds on the map, I laughed that I was so close. How could I have known? I'm out the door Monday morning at 6am. It's still too dark to ID a bird. I stopped for gas and a snack. My directions for the "chickens" are almost two years old. I found them on an old trip report from Joe Morlan's trip to see the Siberian Accentor. I did not have the newest ABA/Lane Guide for Idaho to verify it. Anxiously, I headed South of the airport on Orchard Ave which finally turned into Gowen Rd. I followed the directions. Right on Pleasant Valley and right again on HolliLynn. Done. Ok. Look for the new subdivision. Hmmm. That could look a lot different in a couple years. But I soon came upon a likely area. I checked the time. 6:30am MST. I looked up again and saw a group of birds on the right. 12 Chukars!!! (#675) In the next yard on the left were several families of Chukars, 21 birds in all, with quite a few juveniles! Around the big bend I found many more Chukars. Down the hill on the right, coming out of the field and right into a yard was a family of 8 Gray Partridges! (#676). I found 60+ birds inside of 15 minutes. All were Chukars except for the single family of partridges. I drove back to the motel, checked out, and drove the 550 miles back to Everett, WA for the evening. A flat tire near Seattle was quite an inconvenience. Coupled with the 1100 miles in the past 2 days, my back was bothering me again. Even so, I slept lightly. I knew I *had* to get up early for any chance at hearing a Pacific-slope Flycatcher on my last full birding day. And my destination was at least an hour's drive. I managed to arrive about 7:30am at my target area, the Skagit River valley along US Rt 20, just West of the North Cascades National Park. I birded for 2 1/2 hrs, stopping 10-15 times in good habitat along the river, but without any success. Totally exhausted and at the end of my target stretch of road, I stopped at a reststop just past Rockport. After checking the area briefly, I laid down on the bench of a picnic table. The reststop was an idyllic spot. The area was nestled between the tall, green mountains with the faint smell of pine present in the fresh air. My picnic table was under a large, shady, maple. The constant sound of the easy-flowing, pale, blue river lulled me into a deep slumber. I slept for 1 1/2 hrs. Pu-weet. I heard the high, thin, clear call with a rising inflection at the end. Pu-weet. I *am* dreaming I thought to myself. I must really be tired. Pu-weet. It called again. This time my eyes bulged open immediately. My heartbeat quickened as I listened intently. Pu-weet. I was incredulous. The Pacific-slope Flycatcher (#677) was right above me! (This has to be as good as any big fish story you've ever heard!). I noted that this call sounded quite a bit more like the Cordilleran Flycatcher than the Pacific-slopes I heard last year in California. It was two distinct syllables instead of just one. I likened the difference last year to myself as the difference between saying two words (Cordilleran) and it's single-syllable contraction (Pacific-slope). I assume the differences in calls further North must run closer together, making true identification next to impossible. This bird's call sounded to me to have the same cadence as saying a hurried "Bopeep" (the character of Mother Goose fame). I enjoyed the afternoon in North Cascades National Park, returning to Seattle for the evening. The flight home on Wednesday was uneventful and long (as always). I vowed to myself that it would not be long before I returned to this beautiful area again... Greg Miller Lusby, MD