Birding the Eastern Sierra
Eric and I recently returned from a week-long camping trip in California's eastern Sierra Nevada, where we hiked, paddled, and birded around Mono Lake, Mammoth Lakes, and the White Mountains. The following is a recap of some of my favorite bird encounters from the trip.
Our first stop was at the popular fishing resort of Virginia Lakes, nestled below Dunderberg Peak just north of Mono Lake and west of Highway 395. While the resort (which consists of a small store, a few cabins, and a campground) caters to anglers, it also maintains a few bird feeders outside the general store, next to the parking lot. This arrangement is delightfully convenient and draws one particular bird that many birders come especially to see: the Gray-crowned Rosy-finch. Gray-crowned Rosy-finches are birds of high elevations, making their living far above the range of the average biped, on alpine fell fields and snow fields above timberline in the Sierra Nevada and Rocky Mountains. Generally only during foul weather do rosy-finches move down into human settlements. But at Virginia Lakes, the well-stocked feeders attract these beauties year-round, making for extremely easy viewing.
Hanging out at the feeders with the flock of rosy-finches were several Pine Siskins, and a few male and female Cassin's Finches, the eastern Sierra's counterpart to the Purple Finch (though the two ranges do overlap.) Male Cassin's Finches sport bright red topknots and pale, unstreaked underparts, and prefer high elevation coniferous forests in the Sierra Nevada and Rocky Mountains.
The dawn chorus from our campsite at Virginia Lakes (technically beside Trumbull Lake) was splendid! Warbling Vireos and American Robins carried the melody, while Mountain Chickadees, Dark-eyed Juncos, and Western Wood-Pewees provided backup. The dawn chorus is undoubtedly one of my very favorite parts of camping: it signals that the night is nearly over (my least favorite part), the day is almost here, and the birds are out there!
Early in the morning, we made our way down from Virginia Lakes to the shores of Mono Lake, one of the most important links along the Pacific Flyway for a number of species, and the site of the second-largest breeding colony of California Gulls (the largest is at Utah's Great Salt Lake). We walked the short boardwalk trail at Mono Lake County Park, which travels from a manicured picnic area through willow thickets and tufa towers to the western shore of the lake.
The willows were alive with the "sweet sweet I'm so sweet" song of Yellow Warblers, and we watched enchanted as yellow faces with dark shining eyes popped in and out of shrubs all around us. Adults fed begging young, males sung from high perches, and yellow flashes darted all around. I'd never seen so many Yellow Warblers in one place before!
Closer to the lake shore, the ground becomes marshier and wetland birds make an appearance: we heard a Virginia Rail calling from the reeds, and nesting Red-winged Blackbirds made quite the commotion overhead, while out on the water, hundreds of California Gulls feasted on brine shrimp.
Nestled in the vegetation, we spied a precious spotted fawn. A noisy group of tourists hurried passed us, missing the fawn entirely. It pays to move slowly and quietly!
From the county park we traveled south along the lake shore to Mono Lake's famous South Tufa area, the most well-known part of the lake for tourists and photographers. Violet-green Swallows swooped and dove overhead, capturing flying insects to bring back to their nests on the tufa towers.
Osprey also nest on the tufa towers, where they are safe from predators on the tall otherworldly spires.
The briny lake doesn't support any fish, however, and Ospreys must travel west to fish in the freshwater lakes and streams of the eastern mountain slopes to feed themselves and their young. The trade-off is worth it, though: they are willing to commute to work in order to live in a safe neighborhood!
But my target bird at Mono Lake was not this great fishing raptor, the brilliant iridescent swallow, or even the California Gulls for which the lake is so well known. My quarry was another bird: the Wilson's Phalarope.
Around 100,000 Wilson's Phalaropes stop at Mono Lake every summer on their migration from northern breeding grounds to overwintering sites in South America. The brightly colored females arrive first in June, having left their mates behind in the north to raise their young. The males follow a couple of weeks later, and at last, the young juvenile phalaropes begin to trickle through, finding the salt lake entirely by instinct. At Mono Lake, the birds molt and refuel for the long journey ahead, consuming enough alkali flies and brine shrimp to double their body weight in a matter of weeks. From Mono Lake, Wilson's Phalaropes fly 3,000 miles nonstop to South America, a journey that could not take place without the brine shrimp and alkali flies of this saline desert oasis.
From Mono Lake, we traveled 30 miles south to Mammoth Lakes, one of our favorite places in the Eastern Sierra, where we spent four days exploring the Lakes Basin.
Camped near the shore of Lake Mary, Osprey and Bald Eagles soared overhead, scoping the water for fish. A quartet of small mountain passerines was ever-present all around us: chattering Mountain Chickadees, trilling Dark-eyed Juncos, buzzy-sounding Western Wood-Pewees, and nasally Red-breasted Nuthatches sang throughout the day, providing the soundtrack to our mountain retreat. Other common forest birds present in substantial numbers as well included Steller's Jays, Clark's Nutcrackers, American Robins, and Western Tanagers. A Red-breasted Sapsucker hitching up a tree along a meadow edge was a good start to one day in particular.
Anchored in the reeds along Twin Lakes were several American Coot nests, along with plenty of Red-winged Blackbirds. Brewer's Blackbirds loitered around the campgrounds, cleaning up crumbs left behind by campers. At Lake Mamie, we were entertained for quite some time by watching a female Common Merganser chase fish back and forth across the water. Wilson's Warblers fed their young in the willows along Lake George, while a furtive Hermit Warbler foraged in the conifer canopy high above; more common Yellow-rumped Warblers were less shy, and an Orange-crowned Warbler hopped right up to me as it picked insects from willow twigs. Above Lake George near TJ Lake, we spent several minutes watching two Brown Creepers go round and round, hitching along up one tree trunk before flying down to the base of the next tree to start the process over in their never-ending search for invertebrate prey hiding in bark crevices. We also spotted a Hermit Thrush feeding its well-camouflaged young not too far from the trail; had the juveniles not been making incessant begging calls, we would have walked right by one of my favorite of all forest birds!
One morning, we attempted to visit the Inyo Craters where birders had been seeing Pine Grosbeaks. But alas, the road proved too challenging for our little Corolla to handle. Instead, we stopped at the Earthquake Fault Trail, a very short walking path from a paved parking lot that loops around a deep gouge in the earth (the fault) and provides some decent forest edge habitat with quite a few standing dead trees. After spotting and/or hearing all the obligatory birds - the Steller's Jays and Clark's Nutcrackers, the Mountain Chickadees, Dark-eyed Juncos, Western Wood-Pewees, and Red-breasted Nuthatches - within the first few minutes, things began to get more interesting!
First, I spotted a White-headed Woodpecker, which is always a treat to see and possibly Eric's favorite woodpecker. A Northern Flicker called from somewhere in the tall conifers. Then, before we'd walked more than a few steps, a Black-backed Woodpecker flew in and propped himself up on the tree trunk right in front of us! Black-backed Woodpeckers can be a challenge to find, so I was elated at this scarcely hoped-for encounter. A male, with his solid black back and golden-yellow crown patch, hung around for just a few moments before disappearing off into the trees.
Almost immediately my attention was caught by a different sound, which I recognized at once to be another type of woodpecker. A small group of at least three Williamson's Sapsuckers made an appearance, calling noisily to each other as they moved through the trees. First I spotted the female, then the strikingly different-looking male. In the trees right in front of us, these beautiful birds graciously provided us with good long looks at both sexes. Male and female Williamson's Sapsuckers look so different, in fact, that for a long time after their initial discovery they were thought to be two separate species. It wasn't until they were observed both feeding young in the same nest that the error was realized!
It was a veritable Picidae parade! I was thrilled!
For those interested in listing: I have now seen 18 of North America's 22 species of woodpeckers. (I still need to see Red-naped and Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers, and American Three-toed and Golden-fronted Woodpeckers.)
In addition to birding around the Lakes Basin, we also took a day trip from Mammoth Lakes south into the White Mountains, where my sights were set on a few particular species of birds in addition to the world's oldest living organisms. Before reaching the bristlecone pines, however, we stopped in the lower-elevation pinyon-juniper woodland to hunt for some birds specific to that habitat. And there, in the parking lot of the Pinyon Nature Trail, I saw three more new-to-me birds!
First, the Juniper Titmice chattering in the scrubby trees gave themselves away immediately. Cute little gray birds, they look very similar to our familiar Oak Titmouse, and indeed they were considered to be a single species until recently; their preference for different habitat and distinct voice gives them away. While a Turkey Vulture rocked in the thermals overhead and the croak of a Common Raven echoed off distant hills, I spotted two Woodhouse's Scrub-Jays quietly foraging in a juniper. Also a "new" species, the Woodhouse's Scrub-Jay was split from the California Scrub-Jay in 2016. A moment later, an odd little brownish bird with its tail cocked in the air scurried underneath a nearby juniper where two Black-throated Gray Warblers were foraging. Eric spotted the bird first, which turned out to be a juvenile Green-tailed Towhee, another new bird for us! (Later, at the Schulman Grove of bristlecone pines farther up the road, we saw several adult Green-tailed Towhees as well.) Disappointingly, we missed seeing Pinyon Jays, another target species I felt certain of, in the pinyon-juniper woodlands.
At nearly 11,000 feet in the White Mountains, we stopped at the Schulman Grove of bristlecone pines, where folks had been seeing Red Crossbills. It was fortunate that we went there to see the trees rather than birds, however, because the avian life was a little scarce when we visited in the middle of the day. Gray Flycatchers flitted around the parking lot, perching and dipping their tails down in their tell-tale wag, and juvenile Dark-eyed Juncos begged from shady branches tucked in the conifers. Rock Wrens bobbed on the exposed rocky slopes, Chipping Sparrows scratched at the ground beneath the pines, Clark's Nutcrackers squawked loudly overhead, and a family of Mountain Bluebirds called hungrily for its meal. The male Mountain Bluebird, a flash of blue as brilliant as the sky, swooped and dove on insects again and again to provide for his hungry young brood. Mountain Chickadees scolded and sang in turn, and a Red-tailed Hawk perched at the top of a pine, keeping a sharp eye on the bustling chipmunk population below. But no luck with the Red Crossbills.
Overall, it was an extremely enjoyable trip. With so many unique habitat types in relative close proximity, the Eastern Sierra is a paradise for birders. We only just scratched the surface - and I'm ready to go back!
 |
| East of the Sierra: Mono Lake, Mammoth Lakes Basin & the White Mountains |
Our first stop was at the popular fishing resort of Virginia Lakes, nestled below Dunderberg Peak just north of Mono Lake and west of Highway 395. While the resort (which consists of a small store, a few cabins, and a campground) caters to anglers, it also maintains a few bird feeders outside the general store, next to the parking lot. This arrangement is delightfully convenient and draws one particular bird that many birders come especially to see: the Gray-crowned Rosy-finch. Gray-crowned Rosy-finches are birds of high elevations, making their living far above the range of the average biped, on alpine fell fields and snow fields above timberline in the Sierra Nevada and Rocky Mountains. Generally only during foul weather do rosy-finches move down into human settlements. But at Virginia Lakes, the well-stocked feeders attract these beauties year-round, making for extremely easy viewing.
 |
| A Gray-crowed Rosy-finch under the feeders at Virginia Lakes. |
Hanging out at the feeders with the flock of rosy-finches were several Pine Siskins, and a few male and female Cassin's Finches, the eastern Sierra's counterpart to the Purple Finch (though the two ranges do overlap.) Male Cassin's Finches sport bright red topknots and pale, unstreaked underparts, and prefer high elevation coniferous forests in the Sierra Nevada and Rocky Mountains.
 |
| A male Cassin's Finch, sporting his bright red topknot. |
The dawn chorus from our campsite at Virginia Lakes (technically beside Trumbull Lake) was splendid! Warbling Vireos and American Robins carried the melody, while Mountain Chickadees, Dark-eyed Juncos, and Western Wood-Pewees provided backup. The dawn chorus is undoubtedly one of my very favorite parts of camping: it signals that the night is nearly over (my least favorite part), the day is almost here, and the birds are out there!
Early in the morning, we made our way down from Virginia Lakes to the shores of Mono Lake, one of the most important links along the Pacific Flyway for a number of species, and the site of the second-largest breeding colony of California Gulls (the largest is at Utah's Great Salt Lake). We walked the short boardwalk trail at Mono Lake County Park, which travels from a manicured picnic area through willow thickets and tufa towers to the western shore of the lake.
The willows were alive with the "sweet sweet I'm so sweet" song of Yellow Warblers, and we watched enchanted as yellow faces with dark shining eyes popped in and out of shrubs all around us. Adults fed begging young, males sung from high perches, and yellow flashes darted all around. I'd never seen so many Yellow Warblers in one place before!
 |
| A male Yellow Warbler sings from atop his perch along Mono Lake. |
Closer to the lake shore, the ground becomes marshier and wetland birds make an appearance: we heard a Virginia Rail calling from the reeds, and nesting Red-winged Blackbirds made quite the commotion overhead, while out on the water, hundreds of California Gulls feasted on brine shrimp.
Nestled in the vegetation, we spied a precious spotted fawn. A noisy group of tourists hurried passed us, missing the fawn entirely. It pays to move slowly and quietly!
 |
| Not a bird. But I do strive to be an equal opportunity naturalist! |
From the county park we traveled south along the lake shore to Mono Lake's famous South Tufa area, the most well-known part of the lake for tourists and photographers. Violet-green Swallows swooped and dove overhead, capturing flying insects to bring back to their nests on the tufa towers.
 |
| A Violet-Green Swallow, perched on a tufa tower. |
Osprey also nest on the tufa towers, where they are safe from predators on the tall otherworldly spires.
 |
| An Osprey surveys the lake from atop a tufa tower. (Apparently I failed to photograph the active nests in the area!) |
The briny lake doesn't support any fish, however, and Ospreys must travel west to fish in the freshwater lakes and streams of the eastern mountain slopes to feed themselves and their young. The trade-off is worth it, though: they are willing to commute to work in order to live in a safe neighborhood!
 |
| There is an Osprey nest - no more than a speck in the photograph - out there on the tufa tower island. |
But my target bird at Mono Lake was not this great fishing raptor, the brilliant iridescent swallow, or even the California Gulls for which the lake is so well known. My quarry was another bird: the Wilson's Phalarope.
Around 100,000 Wilson's Phalaropes stop at Mono Lake every summer on their migration from northern breeding grounds to overwintering sites in South America. The brightly colored females arrive first in June, having left their mates behind in the north to raise their young. The males follow a couple of weeks later, and at last, the young juvenile phalaropes begin to trickle through, finding the salt lake entirely by instinct. At Mono Lake, the birds molt and refuel for the long journey ahead, consuming enough alkali flies and brine shrimp to double their body weight in a matter of weeks. From Mono Lake, Wilson's Phalaropes fly 3,000 miles nonstop to South America, a journey that could not take place without the brine shrimp and alkali flies of this saline desert oasis.
 |
| While over 100,000 Wilson's Phalaropes visit Mono Lake every summer, I saw... about 30! |
From Mono Lake, we traveled 30 miles south to Mammoth Lakes, one of our favorite places in the Eastern Sierra, where we spent four days exploring the Lakes Basin.
Camped near the shore of Lake Mary, Osprey and Bald Eagles soared overhead, scoping the water for fish. A quartet of small mountain passerines was ever-present all around us: chattering Mountain Chickadees, trilling Dark-eyed Juncos, buzzy-sounding Western Wood-Pewees, and nasally Red-breasted Nuthatches sang throughout the day, providing the soundtrack to our mountain retreat. Other common forest birds present in substantial numbers as well included Steller's Jays, Clark's Nutcrackers, American Robins, and Western Tanagers. A Red-breasted Sapsucker hitching up a tree along a meadow edge was a good start to one day in particular.
 |
| A bold Dark-eyed Junco comes to check out our picnic. These cute little birds are one of the most common passerines in the Sierra. |
Anchored in the reeds along Twin Lakes were several American Coot nests, along with plenty of Red-winged Blackbirds. Brewer's Blackbirds loitered around the campgrounds, cleaning up crumbs left behind by campers. At Lake Mamie, we were entertained for quite some time by watching a female Common Merganser chase fish back and forth across the water. Wilson's Warblers fed their young in the willows along Lake George, while a furtive Hermit Warbler foraged in the conifer canopy high above; more common Yellow-rumped Warblers were less shy, and an Orange-crowned Warbler hopped right up to me as it picked insects from willow twigs. Above Lake George near TJ Lake, we spent several minutes watching two Brown Creepers go round and round, hitching along up one tree trunk before flying down to the base of the next tree to start the process over in their never-ending search for invertebrate prey hiding in bark crevices. We also spotted a Hermit Thrush feeding its well-camouflaged young not too far from the trail; had the juveniles not been making incessant begging calls, we would have walked right by one of my favorite of all forest birds!
 |
| Another of my favorite mountain birds (there are many!), the Mountain Chickadee, checking out the Lodgepole Pine above our tent. |
One morning, we attempted to visit the Inyo Craters where birders had been seeing Pine Grosbeaks. But alas, the road proved too challenging for our little Corolla to handle. Instead, we stopped at the Earthquake Fault Trail, a very short walking path from a paved parking lot that loops around a deep gouge in the earth (the fault) and provides some decent forest edge habitat with quite a few standing dead trees. After spotting and/or hearing all the obligatory birds - the Steller's Jays and Clark's Nutcrackers, the Mountain Chickadees, Dark-eyed Juncos, Western Wood-Pewees, and Red-breasted Nuthatches - within the first few minutes, things began to get more interesting!
 |
| Clark's Nutcracker, a frequently encountered Corvid at high elevations in the Eastern Sierra. |
First, I spotted a White-headed Woodpecker, which is always a treat to see and possibly Eric's favorite woodpecker. A Northern Flicker called from somewhere in the tall conifers. Then, before we'd walked more than a few steps, a Black-backed Woodpecker flew in and propped himself up on the tree trunk right in front of us! Black-backed Woodpeckers can be a challenge to find, so I was elated at this scarcely hoped-for encounter. A male, with his solid black back and golden-yellow crown patch, hung around for just a few moments before disappearing off into the trees.
Almost immediately my attention was caught by a different sound, which I recognized at once to be another type of woodpecker. A small group of at least three Williamson's Sapsuckers made an appearance, calling noisily to each other as they moved through the trees. First I spotted the female, then the strikingly different-looking male. In the trees right in front of us, these beautiful birds graciously provided us with good long looks at both sexes. Male and female Williamson's Sapsuckers look so different, in fact, that for a long time after their initial discovery they were thought to be two separate species. It wasn't until they were observed both feeding young in the same nest that the error was realized!
It was a veritable Picidae parade! I was thrilled!
 |
| A terribly blurry but recognizable photo of a male Williamson's Sapsucker. Female Williamson's Sapsuckers are more brownish in color with a barred pattern on their backs, much like a Gila Woodpecker. |
For those interested in listing: I have now seen 18 of North America's 22 species of woodpeckers. (I still need to see Red-naped and Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers, and American Three-toed and Golden-fronted Woodpeckers.)
In addition to birding around the Lakes Basin, we also took a day trip from Mammoth Lakes south into the White Mountains, where my sights were set on a few particular species of birds in addition to the world's oldest living organisms. Before reaching the bristlecone pines, however, we stopped in the lower-elevation pinyon-juniper woodland to hunt for some birds specific to that habitat. And there, in the parking lot of the Pinyon Nature Trail, I saw three more new-to-me birds!
First, the Juniper Titmice chattering in the scrubby trees gave themselves away immediately. Cute little gray birds, they look very similar to our familiar Oak Titmouse, and indeed they were considered to be a single species until recently; their preference for different habitat and distinct voice gives them away. While a Turkey Vulture rocked in the thermals overhead and the croak of a Common Raven echoed off distant hills, I spotted two Woodhouse's Scrub-Jays quietly foraging in a juniper. Also a "new" species, the Woodhouse's Scrub-Jay was split from the California Scrub-Jay in 2016. A moment later, an odd little brownish bird with its tail cocked in the air scurried underneath a nearby juniper where two Black-throated Gray Warblers were foraging. Eric spotted the bird first, which turned out to be a juvenile Green-tailed Towhee, another new bird for us! (Later, at the Schulman Grove of bristlecone pines farther up the road, we saw several adult Green-tailed Towhees as well.) Disappointingly, we missed seeing Pinyon Jays, another target species I felt certain of, in the pinyon-juniper woodlands.
 |
| A young Green-tailed Towhee investigates a pinyon pine cone. |
At nearly 11,000 feet in the White Mountains, we stopped at the Schulman Grove of bristlecone pines, where folks had been seeing Red Crossbills. It was fortunate that we went there to see the trees rather than birds, however, because the avian life was a little scarce when we visited in the middle of the day. Gray Flycatchers flitted around the parking lot, perching and dipping their tails down in their tell-tale wag, and juvenile Dark-eyed Juncos begged from shady branches tucked in the conifers. Rock Wrens bobbed on the exposed rocky slopes, Chipping Sparrows scratched at the ground beneath the pines, Clark's Nutcrackers squawked loudly overhead, and a family of Mountain Bluebirds called hungrily for its meal. The male Mountain Bluebird, a flash of blue as brilliant as the sky, swooped and dove on insects again and again to provide for his hungry young brood. Mountain Chickadees scolded and sang in turn, and a Red-tailed Hawk perched at the top of a pine, keeping a sharp eye on the bustling chipmunk population below. But no luck with the Red Crossbills.
 |
| A juvenile Mountain Bluebird |
Overall, it was an extremely enjoyable trip. With so many unique habitat types in relative close proximity, the Eastern Sierra is a paradise for birders. We only just scratched the surface - and I'm ready to go back!
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