A nemesis bird frustratingly eludes you for years. All seasoned birders have one. If you ask about someone’s nemesis bird, they’ll likely drop their head, chin to chest, place their hand on their forehead in an exasperated manner, and say the name in a hushed voice that exudes embarrassment. These species tend to be common, and are frequently seen by everyone else besides you. When looking at other birders’ checklists, there is your nemesis, its name standing out on the page, taunting you. You constantly scour the right habitat, searching, but always seem to miss. You see photos taken by other birders, go to the exact location where they reported seeing it, sometimes just hours later, and your nemesis has ducked out, just before you arrived.
My nemesis bird is Ruffed Grouse. In 18 years of birding, I have shockingly never seen one. I have seen most of the other species of common grouse in the west: Greater Sage Grouse all over the place in Wyoming, Colorado, Idaho, and Utah; Sharp-tailed Grouse in the northwest corner of Utah, and on a ranch in northeast Colorado; and Dusky Grouse outside of Grand Junction, Colorado, and in Price Canyon Recreation area. I haven’t seen Gunnison Sage Grouse, or Spruce Grouse either, but I haven’t gone to their homes looking for them. Ruffed Grouse are all over the place, and I’ve been chasing down reports of them for the entire time I’ve been birding.
In mid-September, I went up to northwestern Montana, and visited Alex. The weather there was much cooler than it was at my desert home. The leaves were beginning to change from a waxy summer green to vibrant shades of pumpkin orange, fuchsia, and golden yellow. Even a few larches, a species of deciduous conifer, were beginning to change color in the otherwise evergreen forests, looking like single yellow crayons in a box full of greens.
We planned on doing some birding while I was up there. I wanted to go to the CSKT Bison Range, where Alex had recently seen black bears gorging on chokecherries, building up fat stores before hibernation. Beyond that, we’d take some other trips around her home. It was the middle of fall migration, and we’d likely be able to see both species that were lingering in Montana, and those moving southward from farther north in Canada.
The bison range is on lands held by the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes (CSKT) who manage both the enclosed area, and herd of 350 bison. A 19 mile loop road travels through grasslands on the western side, up and over Red Sleep Mountain, and back through more grasslands on the eastern side. In addition to wonderful birds, this is a great place to spot both mule and white-tailed deer, black bears, pronghorn, and, of course, bison.
We started the drive by seeing a couple Gray Partridge, birds that are meaningful to Alex and I. This is where I first saw the species back in 2021 (up to that point, this was another nemesis), and we have frequently run into them there. They are gray overall, with copper sides and faces. They look like like metal birds that have rusted in the rain. We also saw two Clay-colored Sparrows, another bird that I saw for the first time at the CSKT Bison Range, earlier this year, in May.
About halfway through the drive, we began to talk about the absence of bears. The chokecherry bushes no longer drooped with crimson clusters of ripe berries. As I began to write off a sighting, we rounded a bend, and heard a loud crashing coming from the bushes along the side of the road. A young black bear was standing atop a tangle of branches that were seemingly too thin to hold the weight of any animal that large. It stayed there, feeding for a moment, before it fell off its perch and crashed out of view.
As we left the grasslands and hillside scrub behind us, and began to climb up Red Sleep Mountain, Alex told me to be on the lookout for Ruffed Grouse. She had seen them there before, and knew that I was trying to spot the species for the first time. We drove slowly, and I scanned the forest floor for any movement. She needed to use the restroom at the summit, but was being very patient with my methodical and comprehensive scans of the hillside. The birding was slow in the forest, and as we crested the mountain, rain drops began to dribble out of a thick layer of lead-colored clouds.
We stopped at the top for a break, and then descended the east side of the mountain. We missed Ruffed Grouse, but on the way down, saw two mule deer bucks with the widest spread of antlers I have ever seen. When we returned to the grasslands, we found some of the bison that the range is famous for.
On the drive out, the rain began to pound the car. We were driving with windshield wipers that need to be replaced, and the view in front of us was blurry, as we were looking through heavily streaked glass. We returned to the entrance of the range, and went on a short nature walk despite the rain. Only a Northern Flicker called from a cottonwood snag. My glasses were as difficult to see out of as the windshield of the car. We left for home, and when we turned back on the highway, I thought about the fact that we did not see Ruffed Grouse, but I wasn’t surprised, since I had been seeking them for decades, with no luck.
Well you still might see one! You ain't dead yet! :)
My field partner and I saw a couple Ruffed Grouse outside Mountain Green and thought they were roadrunners! They have some impressive gams.