C6
OUTSIDE
East Oregonian
Saturday, December 21, 2019
A Christmas songbird tradition
By BRAD TRUMBO
For the East Oregonian
PENDLETON — I talk a good
game about hunting and fishing,
and most of my fondest memo-
ries revolve directly around those
two passions. This doesn’t detract
from my holistic appreciation for
the natural world, sans my dou-
ble-gun and bird dog.
Among my favorite childhood
memories is the barn-shaped bird
feeder my grandparents hung in
front of their Appalachian living
room picture window. Cardinals,
titmice, nuthatches, downy wood-
peckers and black-capped chick-
adees would chatter and fuss for
space at that feeder and suet cakes
all winter.
I vividly recall one particular
lazy weekend afternoon kicked
back in an old recliner, sipping
hot cocoa; my grandparents read-
ing the paper and working word
finds. Their wood furnace stood
atop a beautiful river rock hearth
my grandpa had built. The blower
kicked on, filling the room with
the irreplaceable warmth of wood
heat as I gazed contently at the first
snow of December falling around
these flittering songbirds and set-
tling thick atop the feeder.
The American robin in its mod-
est appearance has always been
one of my favorite birds, their
glorious melody signaling spring
as the dew settles cold on freshly
greened lawns. And then there are
the jays. Blue jays were a common
bully in my hometown, but the first
time I laid eyes on a Steller’s jay
was the first time I moved to the
Pacific Northwest, cruising High-
way 12 along the Lochsa River
in Idaho. I still marvel at Steller’s
jays as I scramble across the ridge
tops in the Blues pursuing grouse
and mule deer.
The two masked western spe-
cies that I enjoy the most are the
sleek, olive-yellow cedar wax-
wing, and the Bullock’s oriole
with its black-accented pumpkin
plumage — each sporting a Lone
Ranger eye patch and swapping
seasonal appearances at my little
homestead near Waitsburg, Wash-
ington. The Bullock’s oriole drops
by in the spring to enjoy fruit bits
that I hang from the clothesline,
and raises a clutch in the massive
white alders along my spring seep.
The cedar waxwing drops in from
the higher elevations about the
time snow finally settles in our lit-
tle canyon. They gorge alongside
robins on our ornamental crabap-
ples and mountain ash.
Other common winter visitors
to the local drylands are the house
finch, gold finch, house sparrow,
Oregon junco, white-breasted nut-
hatch and spotted towhee.
My musing over common song-
birds may seem curious, but song-
birds are anything but common.
Songbirds have the ability to bring
Photo contributed by Bradly Trumbo
A chilly male house finch pauses momentarily among the branches of a crabapple.
Photo contributed by Bradly Trumbo
Photo contributed by Bradly Trumbo
A male Oregon junco takes a break from foraging in
the snow.
A hungry male house finch poses atop a feeder shep-
herd’s hook.
Photo contributed by Bradly Trumbo
A male Oregon junco basks in the warm rays a winter sunset.
nature’s beauty to virtually any
landscape. Be it a city block or
secluded ranch home, songbirds
are ever-present. They connect
us with our natural world, inspire
artists, develop ornithologists and
arouse wonder in young and old.
What’s more, songbirds season-
ally migrate thousands of miles
across North America from Can-
ada to Mexico and points south.
Their extensive migration makes
songbirds vulnerable to severe
weather patterns, food shortages
and predators.
Aside from the natural life
challenges, songbirds have been
imperiled by hunting since the
19th century. Hunting for plum-
age caused the extinction of spe-
cies like the passenger pigeon and
Carolina parakeet. Fortunately,
our conservation ethics in North
America improved, and the Lacey
Act was passed in 1900, followed
by the Migratory Bird Treaty Act
in 1918. Both acts still stand today,
protecting songbirds from harm in
the U.S.
Prior to our conservation legis-
lation, early ornithologists sought
to change a Christmas tradition
known as “the side hunt” where
folks would choose sides and
descend upon the hills. The side
returning with the most species
of fur and feather claimed a win.
One hundred nineteen years ago
on Christmas Day, the bourgeon-
ing Audubon Society and orni-
thologist Frank Chapman imposed
the Christmas Bird Count in lieu
of the traditional hunt. That first
Christmas, 25 different counts tal-
lied 90 species, and the tradition
stuck.
One of the longest-running
datasets in the history of wildlife
science, the citizen-driven data
collection effort provides criti-
cal input to long-term population
trend monitoring, as well as help-
ing to guide conservation efforts
in North America.
“The data collected by observ-
ers over the past century allow
Audubon researchers, conserva-
tion biologists, wildlife agencies
and other interested individuals
to study the long-term health and
status of bird populations across
North America,” explains the
Audubon Society.
Understanding
population
trends is important for under-
standing the effects of environ-
mental changes on migratory
birds and natural resources. And,
in some cases, population trends
can serve as the proverbial canary
in the mine shaft.
The beauty of the Christmas
Bird Count is that anyone with the
desire can participate. Bird counts
are held within a 15-mile radius
of a designated point. Participants
may travel to a common location
and disperse with an organized
group or, if living within that
15-mile radius, folks can simply
report the species that visit their
feeder on the given count day.
Presently, Umatilla, Wallowa
and Baker counties have a desig-
nated count center with point of
contact information below. Union
County has a count center, but is
not currently available for new
participants. You can learn more
about the Christmas Bird Count,
participation in counts and review
prior year and population sta-
tus data by visiting www.audu-
bon.org/conservation/science/
christmas-bird-count.
If you are looking for an exciting
family activity over the holidays
that gets you outdoors and contrib-
utes to a good cause, look no fur-
ther. Even a hunter like myself is
fascinated with the splendor of our
native songbirds and bird watch-
ing. And who doesn’t enjoy some
friendly family competition over
the holidays?
— — —
Brad Trumbo is a fish and
wildlife biologist and outdoor
writer in Waitsburg, Washington,
where he also actively serves the
Walla Walla-based Blue Moun-
tain Pheasants Forever chapter.
For tips and tales of outdoor pur-
suits and conservation, visit www.
bradtrumbo.com.
MORE INFORMATION
Baker County info:
Bruce Raffety — 541-523-2551
or email bbraf820@yahoo.com
Umatilla County info:
George Ruby — 541-278-2472
or email gtlnrby@yahoo.com
Aaron Skirvin — 541-215-0761 or
email umatbirder@yahoo.com
Wallowa County info:
Mike Hansen — 541-398-8225 or
email mhansen97846@gmail.com
CAUGHT OVGARD
Christmas fishing in Slovenia well worth the trip
By LUKE OVGARD
For the East Oregonian
PORTOROŽ, Slovenia —
My mom’s side of the family,
the Tauchers, is Slovenian.
This is partly why I went to
Slovenia last year during the
Christmas season.
Some of you find this
interesting while others are
making note of my moth-
er’s maiden name to plan
a full-scale attack on my
bank account. Joke’s on you,
though, because I’m still
paying off that trip, so you’ll
be sorely disappointed.
I’ve been to Europe
twice, but my second trip
was infinitely better. It fell
during the Christmas sea-
son last year, and Christ-
mas in Europe is next-
level, my friends. It puts
the Hallmark Channel and
the 25 Days of Christmas
to shame. Festive doesn’t
come close to describing the
array of lights, the numerous
“Christmas Markets” found
in every city — large and
small — the snow, the pic-
turesque cityscapes, or the
music flowing out of every
establishment to put a twin-
kle in every eye and a smile
on every face. Anyone left
unmotivated to get into the
Christmas spirit won’t be
able to resist when cuddled
by the warm smells of what-
ever regional Christmas
pastry is cooking nearby.
There’s no doubt: Europe
does Christmas right.
Photo contributed by Luke Ovgard
The five-spotted wrasse, Symphodus roissali, is found throughout the Mediterranean and
Adriatic, but it is nonetheless beautiful.
Slovenia
Our entire trip to Europe
began when brother, Gabe,
decided to study abroad in
Vienna. I never learned her
name, but his presence over
there got me on a plane. I
arrived days after he pro-
posed to his then-girlfriend,
Rylee. Spoiler alert: they’ve
been married almost three
months now.
My parents, my brother
Jake, and I all had differ-
ent itineraries. My sched-
ule allowed me to arrive
first and leave last, I humble
brag, but for about 10 days,
we were all together. As a
group, we got to see much of
Austria, Bavarian Germany,
Czechia and Slovenia.
Without a doubt, Slove-
nia was the most consistently
beautiful place I’ve ever
been to. From the stone-cob-
bled oceanside walkways to
the snow-capped Slovenian
Alps, to the ancient fore-
boding castles and churches
clashing with modernity
of high rises in the capi-
tal of Ljubljana, the coun-
try accounting for half of my
genetics is incredible. Truly
incredible.
Despite the grandeur of
Ljubljana and the Alps and
sharing the wonder with
my family, escaping to the
coastal town of Portorož
for a couple days’ fishing
added another layer to the
experience.
By night
The Adriatic is unique.
Tucked away in the cor-
ner just off the Mediterra-
nean, it’s an easily forgot-
ten area, and that’s fine with
me. Apart from some traffic
to and from a classy, Monte
Carlo-esque casino, the
sleepy oceanside town was
mine to behold with just a
handful of other tourists.
I walked the cobble-
stones, sampled pastries and
enjoyed what might have
been the best meal I’ve had
in Europe at a small restau-
rant on the harbor, enjoyed
a whole, skin-on seabream,
a mixture of steamed greens
and potatoes and the best
bread not containing garlic
the world has ever known.
The best part? I paid just 11
euros for the meal.
Ambiance aside, I was
there to fish. I’d separated
from the family for two days
in hopes of getting a few
new species for the list, but
my first night was slow. The
drizzle and wind was signif-
icant enough to make sight
fishing very difficult, and
since I didn’t have ideal bait,
I made due with — gulp!
— artificials.
The only fish I could find
that didn’t bolt at the sight
of my light was a goby of
some sort. While the light
didn’t scare it, my bait did.
Every time I dropped the
bait in its face, it would
dart under a large rock. I
spent fully two hours play-
ing cat-and-mouse with the
little bugger, but eventually,
my tenacity overcame its
instincts, and I held my first
rock goby in my hand.
Given the late hour, I
called it a night and retreated
to my Airbnb at the outskirts
of town.
By day
I started my day with
some delicious coffee —
because Europe — and
a pastry. I bought some
shrimp for bait at a grocery
store, and then headed to
the waterfront.
My expectations were
realistic, so I decided to
focus on micro species. I was
able to catch gobies left and
right during the day, sight-
ing them, and then coaxing
them from beneath rocks and
underwater wreckage with
my tiny baited hook.
In total, I caught black
goby, Sarato’s goby, and big-
scale sand smelt as I walked
around the marina. It was
cold, but the wind and rain
stayed away. I was grate-
ful for the reprieve and,
though the fishing was still
fairly slow, I was happy to be
catching fish.
My day ended when I
spotted the reef at the marina
inlet move ever so slightly.
It was a fish, a wrasse that
blended in perfectly with its
surroundings. The fish was
very picky and wouldn’t
bite until I downsized my
split shot and drifted the tiny
shrimp fleck into its face.
When it took the bait, I set
the hook and landed my first
five-spotted wrasse.
Since I was supposed to
rendezvous with the fam in
Ljubljana, I had to call it a
day. Washing the bait from
my hands, I took one last
look at Portorož, through the
eyes of my Taucher ances-
tors, and liked what I saw.
— — —
Read more at caughtov-
gard.com; Follow on Ins-
tagram and Fishbrain @
lukeovgard; Contact luke.
ovgard@gmail.com.