If anyone is interested in a nature tour of Oregon, Mark Smith, who lives in Oregon and guides tours to many exotic places such as Australia, Venezuela, Brazil, Belize, Costa Rica, Jamaica, Madagascar, Africa - and Texas and Arizona, also leads special trips in his home state each spring and fall for The Nature Conservancy. I classify him as an eagle-eyed, walking encyclopedia. Not only did we see almost 200 species of birds during our week in September, but he provided informed, personalized insights into the ecological, geographical and historical features of the area.

The Oregon coast is a marvel unto itself! Profound beauty met our eyes at every turn along the coast, as the sea air cleansed our lungs and the exquisite vistas refreshed our souls.

Besides seeing 10 new life birds, I was thrilled to witness hundreds of black-tailed deer, some majestically displaying their immense antlers. A mammal I had never seen in the wild - a large, fat porcupine - lumbered along near the road. Pronghorn antelope cavorted in the high desert. Four species of squirrels, indigenous to the west, were seen in various habitats. We had grey whale, harbor porpoise, California sea lion, harbor seal on the coast - Townsend’s, yellow pine and least chipmunks; lots of coyote with big, bushy tails; mink, hugely antlered elk, jackrabbits, muskrat, cottontail, striped skunk. How’s that for WILDLIFE?

It was exciting to see American Dippers again, especially one furiously working to dismember a Caddis Fly, an aquatic insect, ancestor of the butterfly, 300 million years in existence. The fly makes a casing out of silk, creating a little artificial house. We watched as the dipper dove with it, SWAM with it, jumped on a rock and repeatedly bashed the hapless creature until the dipper finally savored the soft body under the shell. We were so close we could see the dipper’s white eyelid while it swam under water....I love that unique little bird.

A life bird seems more special when the guide has to work extra hard by using a perfect rendition/imitation of the bird’s call notes and song, to bring the elusive bird out. I will always remember my first Wrentit.

The sight of 5 or 6 Lewis’s Woodpeckers flycatching (really) from a telephone pole was one for the memory bank.

Did you know that a grey whale takes 5 breaths and dives, takes 5 breaths and dives? We learned that fact, as we sat savoring our lunch of halibut sandwiches, while watching and counting.

Mary Yegella would be pleased to know I hugged a Ponderosa Pine. Thanks to my initiation in the club years ago when Mary "made" me hug a tree, I’ve enjoyed hugging many since. However, none have smelled like vanilla. A Ponderosa forest smells like vanilla. Who knew that?

We stood overlooking Kigor Gorge, a glaciated valley, where we watched soaring hawks and falcons at eye level.

Mark drove up Steens Mountain. We had the privilege of walking up the last half-mile, where we were rewarded with one of the most beautiful panoramas ever. The Alvord Desert spread before us a dizzying vertical mile below. Beyond, as far as the eye could see, lay purple mountains' majesty, prompting me to tearfully, quietly sing "America the Beautiful" in memory of those who lost their lives in the World Trade horror which had occurred three days prior.

We traveled through the Malheur National Wildlife Refuge (thank you President Teddy Roosevelt-1908). The Refuge, a diversity of habitat with its 120,000 acres of wetlands surrounded by high desert, afforded us close-up views of many shore birds, ducks, passerines and mammals. An eclipse Golden-eyed Duck was so close his brilliant golden eye was visible without binoculars. As we drove by a large fire tower, we counted at least 50 perched Turkey Vultures waiting for the right moment to take wing and spend the day searching for carrion.

Ten-acre Borax Lake, purchased by The Nature Conservancy in 1993, is unique in that it supports a living creature that is found nowhere else in the world! This 2-inch creature, a fish called Chub, inhabits waters with temperatures from 65 degrees on the surface to above boiling near the thermal vent 100 feet deep. Apparently Chub dart past the vent’s scalding water, but swim about in the 100-degree surface water in summer. There is much geological history to this lake which you would learn on this trip. We had an opportunity to take a dip in the Alvord Hot Springs.

At the end of the last day, Mark drove us into Portland, a beautiful city. As dusk approached, we were sitting on the sloping lawn of the Chapman School campus, facing its huge chimney. Gradually, the birds started gathering - hundreds, then thousands, darting about so rapidly I found it difficult to follow a single bird. It was easier to concentrate on the huge vortex of motion, undulating black clouds which seemed at times to be one entity. Vaux’s Swifts, neotropical migrants, winter in Southern Mexico and Central American jungles. They fly to their summer breeding grounds north to Alaska and British Columbia, south to Central California, east to Montana each spring. A month or more after the young fledge, the swift families form large communal roosts.

We were about to experience a phenomenon - the world’s largest gathering of Vaux’s Swifts! As we sat completely enthralled - an estimated 30,000 to 40,000 swifts from all points in the sky gathered in a tornado-shaped funnel and began descending into the school chimney. But wait, something was disrupting this vortex of motion! A Cooper’s Hawk swooped into the mass, zoomed through and came out the other side with empty talons. Everyone cheered and clapped. After about 10 minutes the birds began forming their tornado shape once more and this living funnel descended down, down into the chimney. Again the Cooper’s Hawk swooped into the mass, emerging with nary a morsel. Once again the crowd cheered. I secretly was rooting for the hawk...it’s no fun going to bed hungry! After about 20 minutes, as the night closed in, every last swift disappeared into the chimney and - it was over. Imagine the number of insects that filled their tiny bellies and how packed that chimney must have been. A magical ending to a fabulous trip - a life bird - 30,000 plus.

Wings Over Dutchess, February 2002