FLASHBACK 1995: Cheryl Fox visits the Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge
Gone to the Birds
By Cheryl Fox
In commemoration of City Weekly's 40th anniversary, we are digging into our archives to celebrate. Each week, we FLASHBACK to a story or column from our past in honor of four decades of local alt-journalism. Whether the names and issues are familiar or new, we are grateful to have this unique newspaper to contain them all.
Title: Gone to the Birds
Author: Cheryl Fox
Date: May 25, 1995
OK, I admit it. When I think of bird-watching, I conjure up images of little old ladies in funny hats sublimating other passions by obsessively tramping after rare wee sparrows. This activity involves hiding out in damp thickets and peering through binoculars. Perhaps I've read too many Agatha Christie novels.
Last week my housemate suggested that we take a day and head out to the bird refuge for a few hours. Sure, I thought. The miserable weather had been keeping me indoors far too much and I was ready to get out and do anything, even bird-watching.
The Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge is located on the eastern shore of the Great Salt Lake, up near Brigham City. It took us two hours to get there from Park City and it was raining to beat the band when we left home. But about the time we passed Lagoon, the sun started to stream from behind the clouds, illuminating the gold and green rain-washed slopes of the Wasatch Front. Once we got off the highway, we drove along increasingly rougher roads out into the delta where the Bear River flows into the Great Salt Lake. We hadn't even gotten to the refuge before we were stopping and getting out our binoculars.
"Look!" Jayne said, "avocets." She pointed out a bunch of redheaded, long-legged water birds delicately wading through the shallows. We stepped out of the car into the bracing, briny wind and found ourselves surrounded by the shrill cries of birds. Along with the avocets were a couple of lonely curlews and a pair of cinnamon teal ducks.
Maybe it was the sunlight, which I hadn't seen in about three weeks, but I was suddenly caught up in the excitement of seeing wildlife in its natural environment. We drive along the edge of the marshes, stopping often. Before we'd even come to the actual boundary of the refuge, we had seen flocks of Canada geese and iridescent white-faced ibises.
It's a long way out to the headquarters of the refuge. In fact, there's not much there except a sign with some informational brochures—including one especially for children—and a toilet that badly needed cleaning. But never mind that, silver sunbeams were pouring through the clouds, so we got out of the car, well bundled up in slickers and boots, and walked for a while. We might have been wiser to drive because we could have gotten further out into the refuge, but the road was pretty muddy and the walk allowed us to listen to the birds and appreciate the place at a slower pace.
Two large, pale fish roiled in the shallows of the river like some monstrous creatures from 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, and across a pond we watched a fox stalk something in the reeds. He pounced, but we couldn't see if he caught anything or not. Two black double-crested cormorants stood on the branches of a dead tree with their wings outstretched to dry, and overhead a flight of white pelicans glided through the twilight.
Then, of course, it started to rain, but it was the lightning that turned us back toward the car. By the time we got there, the squall had passed and the requisite rainbow flared across the sky. We drove back out the long road listening to the songs of meadowlarks and marvelling at the brilliant colors of the yellow-headed blackbirds.
Perhaps the highlight of our evening came as we were almost back to the pavement. Off in the distance, a gray shape grazed in the meadow grasses: a rare and endangered sandhill crane. All in all we saw and identified at least 28 different kinds of birds. Some will move on as their migratory instincts impel them, but others will stay and build nests in the refuge. And me, I'm sure I'll end up someday with a funny hat, hiding in a damp thicket, thrilling at the sight of some other rare and unusual bird.
Getting There
1. Take I-15 north from Salt Lake all the way to Brigham City. Get off the freeway at Exit 368 and turn right. Within 1/4 mile you'll take a left onto 2600 West. Follow the signs to the bird refuge.
2. Follow 2600 West until it dead-ends into Forest Street. Go right again and stay on the road until you come to the information area.
3. The best time to see active birds is either the morning or evening. Be sure to take your own field guide to help identify what you see.
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