Our birding quest to see the Himalayan snowcock would not involve travel to Nepal and the Himalayan mountains, the native habitat for this high-elevation bird. But we needed to venture beyond Utah - to the Ruby Mountains near Elko, Nev., the only place to see free-roaming snowcocks in North America.
The trip attracted birders from California, Florida, Ohio and Utah. They all wanted to add this bird to their life lists. Utah birders on our trip were Jack Rensel, a retired Division of Wildlife Resources administrator; John Bellmon, Wasatch Audubon Chapter president; and my son Billy and his birding buddy, Shane Robinson.
So how does one find a bird native to the Himalayan mountains in Nevada? The Nevada Department of Wildlife has been a leading advocate of exotic game bird introductions. The chukar is one of the agency's most successful introductions, so much so that the bird is now the most popular game target in Nevada.
Building on that success, the agency began to search for other species suitable to fill high alpine meadows. These high-altitude lands abound in Nevada's mountains, but there are few native upland game species. The Himalayan snowcock proved an ideal candidate. The agency introduced 19 wild birds in the Ruby Mountains in 1963. Subsequent introductions were made, and by the early 1980s, the birds had become established, breeding and producing young.
A bird must be part of an established and breeding population for at least 10 years before it can be counted on a birder's life list. We were ready in mind and spirit to finally add this bird to our lists. The daunting hike was another matter.
The drive to Elko marked the easiest part of the trip. It was all uphill afterward - literally 11,000 feet, significantly above the tree line. These birds, as their native habitat would indicate, favor high rocky escarpments, cliffs, steep talus slopes and cirques.
The best location for anyone who would like to follow our uphill climb to see this elusive bird is the Island Lake cirque high above Lamoille Canyon outside Elko. A cirque is an amphitheaterlike valley formed at the head of a glacier by erosion. It is rough, boulder-strewn country, with steep cliffs and broken talus, making footing tenuous and treacherous.
The Himalayan snowcock is a large partridge, measuring about 28 inches and weighing more than 5 pounds. The plumage - gray, white, chestnut and black - blends perfectly with its rocky surroundings. It has a broken chestnut collar separating the throat from the darker gray underparts. This plumage is a perfect camouflage among the rubble of rock and talus.
The Himalayan snowcock is primarily a game bird. Tony Wasley, game biologist with the Nevada Department of Wildlife, says hunters enjoy going after the snowcock during the fall hunting season. But because of the difficult terrain involved, few hunters are successful. One hunter spent eight years before getting his first shot - and missed. Between 1980 and 1995, the agency says 403 hunters harvested 140 snowcocks - an average of fewer than 10 birds a year.
We began our trip from an Elko motel at 3 a.m. and drove to the Island Lake trailhead in the Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forest. After snacking and rigging our gear - head lamps, backpacks, tripods and cameras - we began the hike in Lamoille Canyon about 4 a.m.. The trail is a typical switchback trail, well-maintained by the National Forest Service and easy to follow, although all uphill.
We planned to reach Island Lake before sunrise. Snowcocks will begin to call at daybreak from the roost. They fly down to the steep talus slopes. There, they begin to forage back uphill, occasionally stopping to dust-bathe or preen. Snowcocks are quite wary (golden eagles are their primary predator). We wanted to be in place before sunrise to see any movement or hear any vocalization.
Speaking with other groups who had hiked to the area over the previous three days, we learned no one had seen any snowcocks. That didn't stop our quest.
Everyone in our group made the hike to Island Lake, arriving at 6 a.m. It was a beautiful morning. We watched the stars fade as the immense cirque came into view.
The tops of the towering cliffs were easily 500 to 800 yards away. A spotting scope would be critical. Dawn arrived. Other mountain bird species began to appear: mountain bluebird, white-crowned and Brewers sparrows, including the tree-line sparrow, which may one day be split out from the Brewers as a separate species.
Golden eagles, prairie falcons and red-tailed hawks - all snowcock predators - patrolled the clear azure skies over the cirque. We watched and scanned the rocks and ridges. Things looked beautiful for the 32 eyes in our group peeled on the cirque. But our prospects appeared bleak for seeing our target bird.
Mountain goats began to appear, grazing along the rocky hillside. It was approaching 8 a.m., and I was watching one big billy goat when I scanned a nearby ridge. "Snowcock," I whispered loudly and excitedly. The bird had a large profile, somewhat like a chukar but much bigger. Rensel jumped to my scope for a look. He thought it was a rock, one of thousands of rocks in front of us. I looked again and saw the flicker of a feather lifted by the wind. "No, it is a snowcock!" I said emphatically. "Look to its right, there is another," I shouted.
Everyone ran to my position, placing their scopes on the ridge. The two birds began to walk and hop down from the ridge, moving from one rock to another. A cheer went up from our group. Soon, there were six snowcocks in the covey.
We watched them for more than an hour before they disappeared from view. It was an extremely happy hike afterward - and all downhill.
-- Bill Fenimore is owner of the Layton Wild Bird Center, www.wildbird.com/layton.
