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Searching for the Elusive
Bicknell's Thrush in Randolph One of my fondest memories of hiking above treeline in the White Mountains has always been the plaintive song of the white-throated sparrow -- “Poor Sam Peabody, Peabody, Peabody.” In 2003 and 2004, I had the opportunity to participate in the Vermont Institute of Natural Science-sponsored survey of the Bicknell’s thrush. In New England, the Bicknell’s thrush breeds only in high mountain fir forests and is considered a high priority for conservation. On over 100 survey routes in New England, volunteers observed Bicknell’s thrush as well as other birds, especially white-throated sparrow, blackpoll warbler, winter wren, and Swainson’s thrush. Other mountains surveyed in New Hampshire included Cannon, Dixville Peak, Starr King, and Clay.
I hadn’t been to Randolph since October, so I was looking forward to this spring adventure. The weather forecast was unsettled, but it looked like we could sneak in our survey the weekend of June 5. On Sunday, June 6, Jill Wassong and I set out from our friend’s house on Randolph Hill Road at 2:40 a.m. after about three hours of sleep (having driven up from Boston on Saturday night). It was dark out and far too early. We picked our way up the Carlton Notch Trail by the light of a just-past-full moon and our headlamps. Ladyslippers shone white in the moonlight in the middle of the trail in the same place as last year. We passed hobblebush and painted trillium, and violets were blooming on stream banks. We gained the ridge at 4 a.m. and marveled at the quiet. Our survey route was 1 kilometer of the Crescent Ridge Trail, so we took a left and continued through the lush foliage and muddy spots. We encountered several blow downs that hadn’t been cleared yet. There was even bear scat, which I found a little creepy at that early hour. Soon the dawn chorus began, first with the “Sam Peabody” of the white-throated sparrow, followed by Swainson’s and hermit thrush. We enjoyed a beautiful red sunrise, with the moon setting in the west. We must have been making better time than I thought, as we crossed a small brook and started to climb towards Mt. Randolph. I told Jill that I thought we’d gone too far and I pulled out my paperwork. Another challenge of this survey was finding the five points (unmarked and only described), separated by 250 meters, in the dark. Point 1 was described as “S. of Crescent Ridge summit at elv 2910 ft. uphill from brook, pass over 3 sets of rock steps on R side of trail. Boulder the size of washing machine, moss covered. Descend from lookout, mossy boulder is before 2nd water bar.” I could hear someone whooping in the distance. Our friend BabZ Schilke appeared, a much better navigator than me, and said, “It looked like you were going to climb Mt. Randolph!” The first survey point was just the other side of the stream, so we hadn’t gone too far out of our way. We were all famished, so BabZ pulled out a large bag of cheese popcorn and we munched while we listened for birds for ten minutes. It was a little past 5 in the morning. We stopped to listen at each of the next four points, and still no Bicknell’s thrush. The study protocol calls for revisiting the points to play a 1-minute tape of Bicknell’s thrush vocalizations in the hope of enticing any birds in hiding to respond. So we needed to negotiate that big blowdown a third time. BabZ pointed out that our popcorn crumbs would make it easy to find the survey points again. Well, we didn’t hear any Bicknell’s that day so BabZ and I returned for an evening follow-up survey on June 27. We set off a little after 6 p.m., after spending the day at the Stark Fiddler’s Contest. On this second trip, three weeks later, we encountered white bunchberry blossoms and daisies reflecting our headlamps along the trail, and we surprised a young moose (who quickly disappeared into the forest) up on Crescent Ridge. While I took notes BabZ worked with my new GPS and was able to get readings, which should make finding the survey points next year a snap. As we sat up at Lafayette View, BabZ thought she might have heard our bird, but I didn’t think so. Better luck next year, I guess. It drizzled a bit on the way down. We took the Jimtown road, where fireflies twinkled in the valley close to the ground. I submitted my data, albeit negative, and look forward to participating again in 2005. I still haven’t seen or heard the elusive Bicknell’s thrush, but I intend to keep trying. Mountain Birdwatch welcomes new volunteers. For more information, please visit their Web site at www.vinsweb.org/cbd/mtn_birdwatch.html. Mary does most of her bird-watching near her home in Concord, Mass. but has enjoyed tramping in Randolph for the last twenty years or so.
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Making
this survey a particular challenge was the timing: start between
4:30 and 5:30 a.m. on a morning between June 1 and 21. My two
companions and I were not very fond of rising in the middle of
the night and dodging swarms of mosquitoes and black flies. This
was where the “sense of humor” on the official equipment
list put out by the institute comes in handy.