Malheur

Joe Meche is in his sixth year as editor of the Avalanche, the newsletter of the North Cascades Audubon Society, and a member of the board of directors.

Birdwatching is one of the fastest-growing recreational activities in this country. More people participate in birdwatching than in any other outdoor activity. Birds are endlessly fascinating creatures and perhaps the most reliable gauges to the overall health of the planet.

Beginning with this issue of Whatcom Watch, this column will present essays about birds, birdwatchers, bird books, birding locations, and anything else that relates to the avian world. Questions and/or comments relating to this column may be forwarded to the author at: joemeche@aol.com.

Malheur is the French word for misfortune. To me, it’s the epitome of the word remote.

It really hits home after you’ve visited Malheur National Wildlife Refuge for a few days. I perused maps and websites for weeks before our trip in May, and knew from previous visits that the refuge was tucked away into the southeastern corner of Oregon, at an elevation of 4,300’ in the high desert. Still, nothing quite prepares you for the remoteness of the Malheur, one of the premier birdwatching sites in the Northwest. This was the destination for our traditional spring break to enjoy the sunshine and see a few good eastside birds.

As my wife Cindy and I drove south from Bellingham, we traveled through the largest concentrations of Homo sapiens in the Pacific Northwest, Seattle, Tacoma, Portland. We crossed the Cascade Crest and the cities gave way to smaller towns. Before long, we were in wide open spaces country. Southeast of Burns, Oregon, the highway rises to traverse Wright’s Point, an east-west ridge that essentially conceals the massive 9,733’ high, 30-mile-long fault block of Steens Mountain to the southeast. It’s always interesting to ponder whether or not a highway is laid out to accentuate the dramatic views, especially when it seems that it would have been infinitely easier to go around a natural barrier such as Wright’s Point.

When we began our descent, the first thing we noticed, along with snow-covered Steens Mountain, was the emptiness of the high desert that stretched to the horizon and on into northern Nevada. As far as the eye can see are sagebrush steppe, meadows, marshes, mountains, lakes, and forests. We were on the northern edge of the Great Basin, so named because all the precipitation that falls there, stays there. The Great Basin’s rivers flow down from surrounding mountains and form natural reservoirs and expansive wetlands habitat for a myriad of wildlife, primarily birds. The largest of these reservoirs is Malheur Lake, which borders the refuge on the north.

Malheur is one of the crown jewels of the National Wildlife Refuge System and was designated a sanctuary for birds by President Theodore Roosevelt in 1908, at a time when unregulated market and plume hunting was beginning to decimate populations of migratory birds. The refuge covers 186,500 acres, of which 120,000 acres are wetlands. The refuge headquarters and the nearby field station are on the northern boundary of the refuge and there’s nothing but wildlife habitat between the field station and the small settlement of Frenchglen, 30 miles to the south.

Malheur is truly a refuge for all seasons. Spring is usually the most spectacular time of year, with the arrival of over 130 species of birds that nest there, overlapping and interspersing with the migrants that are resting and fueling for the trip north to their respective breeding grounds. Waterfowl are the most abundant on the many small ponds and basins; shorebirds can be found in good numbers; and songbirds are plentiful at the numerous oases that are found along the way.

Mammals such as mule deer and pronghorn antelopes can be found grazing throughout the refuge. Summer brings a bit of calm to the refuge after the flurry of activity of the nesting season. Small family groups begin to settle in and broods of trumpeter swans and other waterfowl can be seen throughout June and July. Shorebirds begin to return from the north toward the end of summer and the activity increases again as fall migration begins. The cold of winter brings the quietest season at Malheur, with most of the ponds frozen over. Many raptors, including bald and golden eagles and rough-legged hawks, winter on the refuge.

There are no campgrounds on the refuge but there are several outside on the southern boundary, as well as a few rooms at the historic Frenchglen Hotel. We chose the relative luxury of one of the two-bedroom trailers at the Malheur Field Station, which also has dormitories and a cafeteria.

The field station is an education-oriented facility and is operated by the nonprofit Great Basin Society, which receives no funding from the government. The trailers are, not surprisingly, named after birds and arranged alphabetically, beginning with avocet and ending with junco. After checking in at the office, we unloaded our gear and moved into our base camp for the next several days, the Flicker.

Our plan was to explore the refuge and the surrounding area, from dawn to dusk. From the field station, we utilized the dirt track Center Patrol Road to traverse the entire refuge from north to south. We were on the road every day, all day, to maximize our bird sightings, taking breaks to explore the wetlands of the Blitzen Valley. The river that runs through the valley is the Donner and Blitzen River; the Thunder and Lightning River was probably named for the phenomenal thunderstorms that roll across the high desert. The nights were cold and windy. The days were somewhat warmer, and windy. The heat of summer was still far away.

Our first birds of the day were always the barn and cliff swallows that were already busy, catching the first warming rays of sunshine before continuing the construction of their nests, underneath the carports. Swallows are exuberant birds and you can’t start the day with a better greeting; unless, of course, it’s the vibrant vocalizations of the Western meadowlarks, which carry for great distances across the sagebrush flats and always welcomed us as we entered the refuge.

Several miles south of the field station, the dry lands give way to the 120,000 acres of wetlands that dominate the remainder of the route to Frenchglen. Bends of the river, ponds, and reservoirs were crowded with waterfowl. Males and females of numerous species, from trumpeter swans to cinnamon teal were either courting or nesting, as were common yellowthroats, marsh wrens, and the ubiquitous red-winged blackbirds.

In the flooded fields were incredible numbers of American avocets, long-billed curlews, white-faced ibises, willets, greater and lesser yellowlegs, and killdeer. Northern harriers were aloft with the early light, along with rough-legged and red-tailed hawks and American kestrels. The size of a silhouette sitting atop a utility pole left no doubt that we had discovered our first golden eagle of the trip.

We meandered and explored until we arrived at the Frenchglen Hotel, just in time for lunch. Just across the road from the hotel was the largest concentration of yellow-headed blackbirds that I’ve ever seen. And they were all in one tree, creating quite a din! These birds were taking advantage of several feeders in the side yard of the hotel. In the cottonwood and black locust groves around the hotel were large numerous yellow and yellow-rumped warblers. After lunch, we returned to the Center Patrol Road and headed north, just to make sure we hadn’t missed anything.

We returned to the north end of the refuge and ended our day at the headquarters, one of the hottest migrant bird traps in the entire state. In a large, desert landscape, many birds are drawn to any area with trees and the headquarters is one of those places. On our first day there, we observed yellow and Nashville warblers, lazuli buntings, Lewis’ woodpeckers, Say’s phoebes, and a lone Town-send’s solitaire.

On our last full day at the refuge, we drove south to the small settlement of Fields, 20 miles north of the Nevada state line. Fields has gained notoriety from visiting birders, not only for the incredible birds of the Fields Oasis, but also for the legendary burgers and milkshakes, across the road at Fields Station Cafe. We sat on a log in the cool, shady oasis, drinking our milkshakes while a pair of downy great horned owlets eyed us from 20’ away.

In one 24-hour period, as part of the North Cascades Audubon Society’s Birdathon 2002, we counted 112 species between Burns and Fields, Oregon. When you feel the need for a spring break with lots of good birds and sunshine, drive 12 hours southeast of Bellingham and spend a few days at the Malheur National Wildlife Refuge. u