Few birds have made as many headlines in the past couple decades as the northern spotted owl. Pitting environmentalists against loggers, it seems to symbolize the struggle between opposing sides on how best to utilize our public lands. The owl depends on old growth forests for its habitat, usually the same areas that are of interest to both the lumber industry for harvesting and nature lovers for preservation.
Even with protection under the Endangered Species Act and political decisions aimed at enforcing it, the species is in decline, with only a few thousand pairs remaining in the Pacific Northwest. But outside of that geographic area, two other subspecies seem to be fairing much better. The California spotted owl is thriving in the Golden State while the Mexican spotted owl lives in an extensive range, albeit disjointed, of mountain forests from the middle Rocky Mountains south into Central Mexico. I was in the heart of this latter owl's home turf when I had my first encounter ever with the species.
If Southern Arizona is Mecca for birding hot spots, the Huachuca Mountains might be its most sacred center, where devotees make regular pilgrimages. This range is at the northern edge of the Sierra Madre Occidental that runs down the spine of Mexico. In fact the southern end of the Huachucas is at the international border. As a result many species of migratory birds pass through this area, and many other birds venture only as far north as this range's canyons.
I was anxious to visit the Huachuca Mountains' multitude of canyons, including its namesake in addition to Ash, Carr, Miller and Ramsey. But my first trip into the area was in mid October, past the summer breeding season and fall migration. And I didn't devote enough time for a comprehensive exploration so I settled on visiting just Ramsey and Miller in addition to some viewing stations at local bed and breakfasts. Even with Ramsey's protection through the Nature Conservancy I didn't have a lot of luck seeing many birds there except for Mexican jays and a single red-naped sapsucker, along with eastern bluebirds on the drive in. But after maybe a mile's hike into Miller Canyon, I saw my first Mexican spotted owls.
I'd like to say that I stumbled on this pair of owls on my own in a joyfully lucky moment. But I received fairly specific directions from the generous proprietor at Beatty's Orchard near Miller Canyon's highest trailhead after he informed me that his seasonal and public hummingbird feeders were mostly going unused. Even though I wasn't in luck to see any berylline or white-eared hummingbirds, I was happy with a new back-up plan.
"I saw them about a mile up the trail, in the area of a big rock split down the middle," he said about the owls. Maybe forty minutes later, after a false start on the trail DOWN the canyon, I found the rock. Having passed many stones, rocks and boulders that might have fit the description of split, it was pretty clear this was THE split rock. In fact, the size of a school bus, it would more aptly be called a boulder or even a mountain. And as if on cue, not thirty feet past the monolith, maybe 40 feet high in an oak tree, was the unmistakable outline of a pair of owls.
Apparently a nesting pair have been calling this area of the canyon home for years, so spotting them doesn't involve much more than an update from the friendly neighbor down the trail. I was able to get some good shots of the owls, but in the ten minutes I was with them they never budged or opened their eyes from their late morning slumber - my gentle vocalizations of tweets and pssts were in vain. The only motion was the soft flutter of their downy feathers in the light wind. I noticed a difference in their sizes, with one of the bird's tail feathers looking shorter. He or she was probably a young owl, most likely fledged this season, still sharing a roost with a parent.
These spotted owls were unaware of both me and the controversy around their species, isolated by miles of canyons and forests from a world under relentless development by mankind. On Miller Canyon Trail (#106) there is actually plenty of evidence of the canyon's century-long exploitation by miners and water thirsty settlers. Fortunately just brick foundations and steel pipes are all that remain today from that era, making this little corner of wildlife habitat safe again. Today it's not interesting to anyone but a few hikers, horseback riders and lucky birders.
Even with protection under the Endangered Species Act and political decisions aimed at enforcing it, the species is in decline, with only a few thousand pairs remaining in the Pacific Northwest. But outside of that geographic area, two other subspecies seem to be fairing much better. The California spotted owl is thriving in the Golden State while the Mexican spotted owl lives in an extensive range, albeit disjointed, of mountain forests from the middle Rocky Mountains south into Central Mexico. I was in the heart of this latter owl's home turf when I had my first encounter ever with the species.
If Southern Arizona is Mecca for birding hot spots, the Huachuca Mountains might be its most sacred center, where devotees make regular pilgrimages. This range is at the northern edge of the Sierra Madre Occidental that runs down the spine of Mexico. In fact the southern end of the Huachucas is at the international border. As a result many species of migratory birds pass through this area, and many other birds venture only as far north as this range's canyons.
I was anxious to visit the Huachuca Mountains' multitude of canyons, including its namesake in addition to Ash, Carr, Miller and Ramsey. But my first trip into the area was in mid October, past the summer breeding season and fall migration. And I didn't devote enough time for a comprehensive exploration so I settled on visiting just Ramsey and Miller in addition to some viewing stations at local bed and breakfasts. Even with Ramsey's protection through the Nature Conservancy I didn't have a lot of luck seeing many birds there except for Mexican jays and a single red-naped sapsucker, along with eastern bluebirds on the drive in. But after maybe a mile's hike into Miller Canyon, I saw my first Mexican spotted owls.
I'd like to say that I stumbled on this pair of owls on my own in a joyfully lucky moment. But I received fairly specific directions from the generous proprietor at Beatty's Orchard near Miller Canyon's highest trailhead after he informed me that his seasonal and public hummingbird feeders were mostly going unused. Even though I wasn't in luck to see any berylline or white-eared hummingbirds, I was happy with a new back-up plan.
"I saw them about a mile up the trail, in the area of a big rock split down the middle," he said about the owls. Maybe forty minutes later, after a false start on the trail DOWN the canyon, I found the rock. Having passed many stones, rocks and boulders that might have fit the description of split, it was pretty clear this was THE split rock. In fact, the size of a school bus, it would more aptly be called a boulder or even a mountain. And as if on cue, not thirty feet past the monolith, maybe 40 feet high in an oak tree, was the unmistakable outline of a pair of owls.
Apparently a nesting pair have been calling this area of the canyon home for years, so spotting them doesn't involve much more than an update from the friendly neighbor down the trail. I was able to get some good shots of the owls, but in the ten minutes I was with them they never budged or opened their eyes from their late morning slumber - my gentle vocalizations of tweets and pssts were in vain. The only motion was the soft flutter of their downy feathers in the light wind. I noticed a difference in their sizes, with one of the bird's tail feathers looking shorter. He or she was probably a young owl, most likely fledged this season, still sharing a roost with a parent.
These spotted owls were unaware of both me and the controversy around their species, isolated by miles of canyons and forests from a world under relentless development by mankind. On Miller Canyon Trail (#106) there is actually plenty of evidence of the canyon's century-long exploitation by miners and water thirsty settlers. Fortunately just brick foundations and steel pipes are all that remain today from that era, making this little corner of wildlife habitat safe again. Today it's not interesting to anyone but a few hikers, horseback riders and lucky birders.
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| October view up Miller Canyon in the Huachuca Mountains. |
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| Pair of Mexican spotted owls. |
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| Note the owl on the right's shorter tail feathers. It might be a juvenile. |
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| Pair of Mexican spotted owls. |
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| Close-up of the adult owl's talons. |
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| Close-up of the juvenile Mexican spotted owl. |
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