On the way home from Yellowstone, Ryan and I usually camp for a night at North Dakota’s Teddy Roosevelt National Park. It breaks up the 16 hour drive home and allows us to get in some more shooting, and with a chance at several species which are not found at Yellowstone, specifically Black-tailed Prairie Dogs and Wild Horses (feral horses, more accurately). The campground at Cottonwood is usually fairly deserted in early spring and late fall, and we only had to compete with a big bull Bison who was vigorously scratching his belly on a big rock in the campsite that we wanted. He eventually moved on and we could set up our tents.
We drive the 36-mile loop once in the late afternoon, and then again in the morning before we have to hit I-94 East for home…and the loop rarely disappoints. [April 19-20, 2016]

Bison Eclipse of the Sun
Last October we had some fantastic dawn shooting when a herd of Bison were silhouetted by the orange foggy sunrise. We hoped for the same conditions on this trip, but the fog was more of a mist that hung in the valleys; you could actually see the water droplets floating in air. This led to a crazy “fogbow”, the first I’d ever seen.
I positioned myself low in the valley in order to get the Bison between me and the rising sun…and this is the result…perfect rim light. I only wish there had been a bit more color in the morning sky. (“warmed” the shot by upping the white balance to 7500k)
[Canon 7D with Canon 100-400mm f4.5-5.6 IS II USM lens at 158mm; f22 at 1/2000 second; ISO 200; tripod]

“Fogbow” over the prairie
I’d never witnessed a “fogbow” before. The morning fog was dense and you could actually see the suspended water droplets when backlit by the sun. My iPhone photo (above) actually turned out better than photos with my DSLR camera, probably due to the HDR feature on the iPhone.

Steaming Bison

[Canon 7D with Canon 100-400mm f4.5-5.6 IS II USM lens at 300mm; f7.1 at 1/3200 second; ISO 640; tripod]

Mule Deer Dawn
No antlers this time of year (barely nubbins with velvet on the males), but the huge ears of Mule Deer make a distinctive silhouette.
[Canon 7D with Canon 100-400mm f4.5-5.6 IS II USM lens at 135mm; f5.6 at 1/5000 second; ISO 640; tripod]

Sharp-tailed Grouse eating buds
We had four species of gallinaceous birds during our brief visit—Wild Turkey, Ring-necked Pheasant, Gray Partridge (rare and unexpected), and many of these normally elusive birds, the Sharp-tailed Grouse. This guy was feeding on flower buds of a Box Elder tree (correct me if I’m wrong). We spent about 10 minutes watching his acrobatic and agile moves among the outer branches as he tried to access the outermost buds. Teddy Roosevelt may be one of the best places to see this sought-after species outside of the lekking season (when they dance at dawn on known leks).
[Canon 7D with Canon 100-400mm f4.5-5.6 IS II USM lens at 400mm; f5.6 at 1/4000 second; ISO 250; handheld, braced on car]

Wild Horse (feral horse) with foal
We probably saw about 40 different Wild Horses (yes, I know, feral horses) in our two loops of the Wildlife Drive. They were just dropping their foals, and we saw one little black guy that was so new that he still wobbled a bit.
[Canon 7D with Canon 100-400mm f4.5-5.6 IS II USM lens at 300mm; f5 at 1/400 second; ISO 200; handheld]

Wild Horse (feral horse) with foal
Darn cute!
[Canon 7D with Canon 100-400mm f4.5-5.6 IS II USM lens at 300mm; f5 at 1/400 second; ISO 200; handheld]

Band of Wild Horses (feral horses)
The color variations of these horses never ceases to amaze me.
[Canon 7D with Canon 100-400mm f4.5-5.6 IS II USM lens at 100mm; f4.5 at 1/2000 second; ISO 200; handheld]

Relaxin’ Prairie Dog (or sunbathing? or hiding?)
[Canon 7D with Canon 100-400mm f4.5-5.6 IS II USM lens at 400mm; f5.6 at 1/3200 second; ISO 250; handheld]

Family Time (Black-tailed Prairie Dogs)
[Canon 7D with Canon 100-400mm f4.5-5.6 IS II USM lens at 400mm; f5.6 at 1/1600 second; ISO 250; handheld]

Cuddly Companions (Black-tailed Prairie Dogs)
[Canon 7D with Canon 100-400mm f4.5-5.6 IS II USM lens at 400mm; f8 at 1/250 second; ISO 200; handheld]

The Perfect Perch
…Just wish I had a better angle …and was a bit closer…and had better light. Oh well. Mountain Bluebird.
[Canon 7D with Canon 100-400mm f4.5-5.6 IS II USM lens at 400mm; f5.6 at 1/6400 second; ISO 250; handheld]

Fifty years ago this week, September 3, 1964, Lyndon B. Johnson signed the landmark Wilderness Act which forever protected 54 wild areas totaling over 9 million acres, including the 1 million acre Boundary Waters Canoe Area (BWCA). I was 13 months old, but this landmark act would change my life.

That’s a grandiose statement but it does have elements of truth. In high school I discovered birds and became a fanatical naturalist. I started to get “all granola-ey” and began reading the books by Sigurd Olson about the canoe country (Open Horizons, Listening Point, Singing Wilderness, Reflections from the North Country). My first week-long summer canoe trip to the Boundary Waters with my church youth group in 1979 was a bit of a let down. I didn’t see and feel everything Sig had written about. Seemed like the BWCA was nothing but rocks, trees and water. But a two-week expedition in 1980 really got me hooked. We really became immersed in the wilderness, experiencing some of the “timelessness” that Sig often wrote about.

I went on to work five summers, a fall and a winter in the BWCAW. Mainly as a canoe guide and naturalist. Wilderness Canoe Base on Fishhook Island on Seagull Lake became my second home (certainly my spiritual home) for a long period. My friend Chris Evavold and I even built a log cabin for the camp. It is really where I fell in love with wildness and winter; boreal forests and bogs; Moose and Marten; paddling and snowshoeing.

I loved the old Fisher Maps. Believe it or not, this is what we used to navigate by; the red dots are campsites…fire grate, tent pad, G.L. (“government latrine”…basically a wood box in the woods).

The BWCAW’s million acres extend nearly 150 miles along the Minnesota-Ontario border, butting up to Canada’s Quetico Provincial Park on the north and to Voyageurs National Park on the west. The BWCAW encompasses OVER 1,000 LAKES, 1,200 miles of canoe routes, 11 hiking trails and approximately 2,000 designated campsites. Truly a vast roadless area.

A shed Moose antler returning to the earth near Alpine Lake (until I picked it up…It now hangs on my friends outhouse!)

Travel in the Boundary Waters is primarily by canoe. Portage on the Little Indian Sioux River, BWCAW.

A peaceful evening on Peter Lake, BWCAW.

Little Indian Sioux River, BWCAW.

Larch Lake, BWCAW

Gray Jay comes to visit our campsite on a winter Boundary Waters trip. I learned that they’ll eat all your gorp…except the M&Ms!

A rare Laurentian Tiger Beetle (Cicindela denikei) shimmers emerald green on its substrate of Saganaga granite. Lake Saganaga, BWCAW.

Nothing says wilderness in Minnesota like a calling Loon. Their haunting cries echo across still waters. Twin Lake, BWCAW.

We owe those who fought for this wilderness a great debt of gratitude. If not for them, there would likely have been “a road to every lake” and a plethora of cabins and resorts, each with a boat, jet ski and other silence-busting contraptions.

Floating on a cloud. Dense fog creates a surreal scene on this solo paddle on Bower Trout Lake, BWCAW.

Sunrises somewhere near Brule Lake, BWCAW.

Rushes along the Seagull River create a dramatic pattern.

Blue Fog on Bower-Trout Lake, BWCAW. A cartographers mistake led to the name…It was supposed to be “Lower Trout Lake.”

Common Loon in blue dawn. Twin Lake, BWCAW.

A winter camping trip out of Ely into the Boundary Waters. Back to front: Sam Cook, Jon Farchmin, Erin Dewitt. Summer isn’t the only time to experience the “B-dub.”

The ancient ones. These 400-year-old Red Pines originated from seeds in the 1500s! Timo Rova inspects an old fire scar. Sadly these pines are now all gone. The 4th of July Big Blowdown in 1999 and the two forest fires since then, have finished them off. Seagull Lake, BWCAW.

I hope some of the seedlings scattered by the 2006 Cavity Lake Fire and the 2007 Ham Lake Fire will flourish and grow into Red Pine monarchs that will still be watching over canoeists in the year 2414. Happy Birthday BWCA!

I drive over the bridge that spans the St. Louis River at Fond du Lac nearly every day…And the scene is rarely the same. And this day was no exception. With temps in the 60s and even 70s recently, the snow has melted and the river is opening up. And when the river opens up, the migrant birds appear instantly. Often my first spring Robin, Red-winged Blackbird, Northern Flicker, Common Merganser, Hooded Merganser, and Trumpeter Swans are seen/heard from the bridge. On this day, dense fogs created a dreamscape of gray and white. The silhouetted trees and islands really make the shot. I like the shape of the sweeping horizontal limbs on the right. It took many shots to get both Trumpeter Swans with their heads up since they feed almost constantly, heads submerged. I also like the 3 Canada Geese just loafing on the “iceberg.” I tweaked the color balance to the blue side to add a bit of a feeling of winter turning to spring. Moody!

[Note: This image looks better the larger it is, so click on it once to see a larger image, then click again to see it at its max size.]

Canon 7D, Canon 70-200mm f4 lens, tripod

Not as exotic as “Gorillas in the Mist,” this scene revealed itself much closer to home when rounding a corner on our “Drive-to-Daycare Wildlife Loop #3.” Birk and Bjorn were fairly non-plussed. Birk went back to playing Angry Birds on my iPhone after a verbal pat on his dad’s back, “Oh swans, nice spot daddy” (“spot” is a birder term for finding a good bird). But I loved the moody scene. And overcast days are when you want to photograph pure white swans as the contrast between the white birds and surroundings is reduced and there is much less chance of blowing out the whites.

Unlike 20 years ago, when a birder would assume that any spring or fall swans seen in northern Minnesota would be Tundra Swans (“Whistling Swans” back then), today we assume that they are Trumpeter Swans (if the flock is under a dozen birds or so). Back from the brink of extinction in the Lower 48, the Trumpeters owe their “thrival” (thriving survival…yes, I made the term up) to Carrol Henderson and the Minnesota DNR Nongame Wildlife division. Back in the early 1980s, Carrol traveled to Alaska where the species was hanging on, and brought back a dozen or so eggs. They were hatched and raised in the Hennepin County (Minneapolis) Parks. Finally in 1987 several two-year olds were released into the wild. Today the Trumpeters are thriving, with 300 nesting pairs in Minnesota and several thousand wintering on the Mississippi River near Monticello. They are also nesting in Wisconsin and now even reclaiming historical territory in Ontario and Manitoba.

It’s good to have you back, my trumpeting friends!

Canon 7D with Canon 400mm f5.6, 1/250 second at f5.6, ISO 160, lens braced on car door frame.