UT-WY-MT 2026 – A Honey of an Anklet

Grand Teton National Park: 3

The Uinta Ground Squirrels around the lodges (Jackson Lake, Lake McDonald, Signal Mountain) were adorable, posing for pictures by all. I wondered: are they on staff?

My last stop on my May trip was Glacier National Park. My timing wasn’t great: the upper stretches of the Going to the Sun Road were still closed for the season, which meant a long drive from my lodge on the west side of the park around to the east side. More glacier action at Grand Teton (and higher elevation), but I enjoyed my brief visit to Glacier.

But first I had to get there. The only road going north out of Grand Teton goes through Yellowstone, so I got the nickel tour of that property. Some up-close-and-personal views of Bison bison. The hoofers seemed to be keeping to the southbound side of the road; the traffic was much more backed up in that direction.

My digs on the lodge campus were spartan: a two story cabin called Snyder Hall, which had served several purposes in its lifetime. Private rooms sleep two; bathrooms down the hall.

Saturday the 24th I made that long drive around to the east side to the Sun Point Nature Trail, which yielded some nice wildflowers—White-leaved Cinquefoil (Potentilla pulcherrima) on exposed rocks overlooking Saint Mary Lake; butter-yellow False Rock-loving Cinquefoil (Drymocallis pseudorupestris) on another outcrop visible from the parking lot; Bearberry (A/K/A Kinnikinnick) (Arctostaphylos uva-ursi) along the trail; and yet again I did not collect enough information to identify a Castilleja to species—and butterflies—two nice nymphalids, California Tortoiseshell (Nymphalis californica) and Milbert’s Tortoiseshell (Aglais milberti). The trail passed through a burned-over area, so there was nothing to cut the wind, and I retraced my steps.

Back on the west side towards evening, I strolled the Trail of the Cedars. My sources say that the flowers of Pacific Trillium (Trillium ovatum) open as white, but turn purple to red as they mature. And I found a Maianthemum that is not racemosum: a delicate Star-flowered Lily-of-the-Valley (Maianthemum stellaturm).

For my last day in the field, I walked a trail with a loop at the end in the Fish Creek area. I sighted one more squirrel species—Red Squirrel (Tamiasciurus hudsonicus)—some green stuff—Pipsissewa (Chimaphila umbellata) showing last year’s fruit and Wood Forget-me-not (Myosotis sylvatica) in flower—and distant Red-necked Grebes (Podiceps grisegena) on Lake McDonald.

Merlin signaled both Hammond’s and Dusky Flycatchers. I got glasses on a couple birds, and photographed one from behind. I don’t know these Empids’ vocalizations. So nothing to confirm an ID to species. Two for next time.

A short visit: maybe worth a trip in another season.

Grand Teton National Park: 2

In the afternoon, after my short climbing adventure, I did a driving tour of Antelope Flats. At a pullout near a bridge over Carpenter Draw I found some beautiful gnarly bark on a Narrowleaf Cottonwood (Populus angustifolia). Merlin-assisted again, I found a lifer Vesper Sparrow (Pooecetes gramineus).

Returning to my lodge, on US 191, I found a distant bull Elk (Cervus canadensis) and my first herd of Bison (Bison bison).

Next day, 21 May, there was a frosting of snow from overnight at the lodge, with rain in the forecast for the morning. I needed to do laundry, so—

In the afternoon, trying to stay out of the wind, I walked the approach to Grand View Point. Here’s my rental Nissan Altima; she was very bossy about lane drift and other peccadilloes of my driving, so she never got a name.

I found a few interesting small wildflowers. However, the big surprise caught on the way back to the car: a stirring in the forb layer just to the left of the trail, and then out sauntered a Dusky Grouse (Dendragapus obscurus)! This sighting brought my total of life birds for the trip to nine, rather more than I expected/hoped for.

My last day in the Park called for some flexibility. I was planning to explore Willow Flats, in search of more Moose and other good things, but the area was closed due to bear activity. So I pieced together some walks on Lunch Tree Hill, around the Colter Bay area, and the easy part of the Lupine Meadows trail. I met yet another new ground squirrel, Uinta Ground Squirrel (Urocitellus armatus). At Colter Bay, I spied a group of about six of them making use of horse dung. Another new butterfly, Large Marble (Euchloe ausonides). And I achieved another objective: a fine photo of American Dipper (Cinclus mexicanus) (one of my favorite birds) at the bridge over Cottonwood Creek on the way to Lupine Meadows.

13/10 would come again.

Grand Teton National Park: 1

I left the Salt Lake City metro for four days in Grand Teton National Park. It did not disappoint, as the cliché goes. I even spotted a few species of charismatic megafauna.

The first two days I spent in the vicinity of Jenny Lake. Tuesday I took two walks along the east and north sides: I had ambitions of walking the three-quarter loop around to the shuttle boat dock, but the elevation and my conditioning quashed that idea. Generally the trails were in good shape, but I encountered at least one choose-your-own-adventure opportunity.

Lots of new plants, many of them in flower: a native mahonia, Berberis repens. An orangetip butterfly, Julia Orangetip (Anthocharis julia). The first of several new ground squirrels for me, Yellow-pine Chipmunk (Neotamias amoenus): my guidebook says, “Steals campground food,” and I often found them around buildings and parking lots.

I gradually figured out that the unfamiliar warblers were Audubon’s, conspecifics of the Myrtle Warblers from back home. My notes say, “Yellow-rumped Warbler and Ruby-crowned Kinglet and Chipping Sparrow are all over—but can I get a good photo? No.”

I had acquired a bell and a canister of bear spray in preparation for this part of the trip, but I might have been able to rent my bear spray. Brown-headed Cowbirds were the mooch birds on the Jenny Lake campus. My trail tracker app reported that I hiked 4.5 miles.

The next day was devoted to as much vertical as I could handle. I rode the boat shuttle to the west side of Jenny Lake and started the climb toward Inspiration Point. The first stretches were fairly easy, and the junctions were more clearly marked. A tip was being passed along the trail that a cow Moose (Alces alces) was hanging out, so I took a little side trip.

As indicated by guidebooks, the trail was very popular, even on a Wednesday morning; I wouldn’t have needed the bear spray.

Another example of a wildflower genus that I know from the mid-Atlantic, but a different species, Lanceleaf Spring Beauty (Claytonia lanceolata). A second new ground squirrel, Common Golden-mantled Ground Squirrel (Callospermophilus lateralis)—it didn’t hang around very long. A shrub that I would find often, Mountain Lover, or Oregon Boxwood (Paxistima myrsinites).

Once you’re at the fork for Hidden Falls, the going gets steeper. The good thing about an out-and-back hike, I wrote in my field notes, is that you can decide when to stop. My trail tracker app reported that I had reached 7000 feet of elevation, and that was good enough for me. A net climb of 300 feet on a 1.7 mile walk.

I took the first of many looks for American Dipper in the fast-running mountain streams.

YHBL

Yellow-headed Blackbird (Xanthocephalus xanthocephalus Bonaparte) (YHBL)¹ has been a nemesis bird, a jinx bird for me. Over the course of six or eight trips to the west, I have not seen one for myself.

I was chatting with birders at the Great Salt Lake Bird Festival, and talked about birds we wanted to see. I sheepishly admitted that I was still on the trail of YHBL. “Oh, go to Farmington Bay, you’ll see them, no problem,” was the first bit of advice. Farmington Bay is an arm of the lake in Davis County; presumably they meant the sprawling Wildlife Management Area by that name. Then, on that Saturday, I got more targeted advice: Eccles Wildlife Education Center. “It’s where we used to have the festival until we outgrew it.”

So that afternoon, off I went. I headed up the track that runs north from the Center’s visitor center. Some nice birds in the ponds on either side, some of them a bit distant but photographable. Cornell’s Merlin app was running, and it suggested an audio match for Yellow-headed Blackbird. It occurred to me that I should review what the bird sounded like, so I pulled up the Sibley app as well. Towards the end of the track, almost to the northern boundary of the property, Merlin was matching on hardly anything else than YHBL.

So that raucous, creaky sound I was hearing, like an rusty screen door falling downstairs, was my bird.² And then, a flash of yellow dropped out of the phragmites into the shorter grass.

Yay! a glimpse of the bird, enough for a twitch. But for a bird that I had sought for so long, could I get an identifiable photograph?

A bit of patience was in order.

Maybe a half dozen birds were up in the tops of the reeds, singing (yes, technically they’re songbirds). I snapped a few pix, generally seeing most of a partly obscured bird. All the while they continued to, um, vocalize.

I was ready to declare victory and return down the track, when my best photo op appeared, out in the open with the flick of white on the wing visible. Fifteen minutes of watching and listening had paid off.³

ABA Area lifer #453, Yellow-headed Blackbird.

¹The only member of its genus, it is saddled with a binomial that repeats the genus and species epithet, literally “yellow-head yellow-head.” Perhaps Charles Bonaparte expected that it would be moved into a different genus, retaining the species epithet.

²Honestly, if I were a Briton, I would be miffed that we use the same name for the all-black singing thrush of Paul McCartney’s song (Turdus merula)and for the group of squonky oriole relatives of North America: grackles, cowbirds, and blackbirds.

³Casual birder and even more casual photographer that I am, armed with no more than a 300mm lens, I got an image good enough for my purposes. But it’s hardly going to be a competition winner.

Great Salt Lake Bird Festival

Every birding festival is different. The Great Salt Lake Bird Festival, based in Davis County, Utah, provided field trips to some interesting sites—and a keynote speaker with great photos who, alas, overstayed his welcome.

First up was a walk in Dimple Dell Regional Park, in the foothills of the Wasatch Front, led by Tori Sohn and Rachel Lake. A focus of this walk was the flora of the region, so I got first looks at several common plants that I would see throughout the trip, from Cheatgrass (Bromus tectorum) (no pic?!) to Gambel Oak (Quercus gambelii) to Lewis Flax (Linum lewisii). Also picked up my first lifer, a bird that I would see often in Utah, Lazuli Bunting (Passerina amoena) (LAZB).

Rachel lumped all the sagebrush into Big Wyoming Sage; she said that there is an entire manual just for Artemisia ID.

There were reaches of the creek running through the canyon that were wet, but most of it was dry, as in the photo.

In the evening, Adam and Marzena Blundell led a short walk through Mountain Wilderness Park, ending at their home, fitted with a multitude of bird feeders. More LAZB, including a good look at a female.

Next day was a drive-stop-bird-repeat trip up Diamond Fork Canyon with leader Keeli Marvel. The canyon is in Utah County, southeast of Springville. I quickly caught on that everyone had a a different pronunciation of lazuli (Z or ZH, for instance), but less quickly that I have been pronouncing this word wrong for decades. Lewis’s Woodpecker (Melanerpes lewis), another western speciality; Canyon Wren (Catherpes mexicanus) at the top of the Red Ledges outcrop, with a voice that sounds like a ball bouncing downstairs; and a nifty butterfly, Sagebrush Checkerspot (Chlosyne acastus). It was nice to get some decent photos and audio of an east-west bird, Yellow-breasted Chat (Icteria virens).

Stephanie Greenwood took us through Springhill Geologic Park in North Salt Lake. This is a lemons-to-lemonade recovering natural space. One of the dirty little secrets I learned from this trip to Salt Lake is that the foothills are mined for Lake Bonneville gravel, with houses perched on the ridgeline above. The residents of this patch were not so lucky; a slow-moving landslide in the 90s ultimately dispatched about a dozen homes.

Song Sparrows here demonstrated some of their regional dialects; Mule Deer (Odocoileus hemionus) like suburbs as much as their congener White-taileds do; we saw lots of Arrowleaf Balsamroot (Balsamorhiza sagittata), which I would continue to see farther north; I found several very sluggish Obscure Darkling Beetles (Eleodes obscura), some of them showing unusual behavior: one was flopped over on its back as if dead, another showed a head-down posture.

Sunday was my destination trip, a school bus ride (leaders: Max Malmquist and Jaimi Butler) (I sat in Scatlett’s seat) down the washboard road to Robert Smithson’s Spiral Jetty. The work is beached now, with the dusty pink water so special to Smithson a good half mile walk away. I packed for this trip prepared for bugs and sun, but on this day we got chilly wind and a bit of rain.

The area has been explored for petroleum, and there are scattered seeps of sticky tar that can catch wildlife unawares. Some opportunities for botanizing along the remains of the structures built to support the mineral exploration: a native wild rye, Squirreltail (Elymus elymoides).

We reached the water! Salt concentrations run very high here (as a taste test confirmed); winds whip up the salt into ephemeral whitecaps. Catch a bit in your hand and give your fellow birder a Salt Lake high five!

Oh yes, birds. We stopped at the Golden Spike National Historical Park, where a Great Horned Owl (Bubo virginianus) was tending near-fledglings—this is why you go with a guide. A fleeting look at Gray Partridge (Perdix perdix) from the vehicle—not many field marks visible in my grainy photos but what else could it be?

I got an even briefer look at another western specialty that I’m not going to count, and I missed MacGillivray’s Warbler (seen by others) on two trips.