I explore the prairie uplands and discover new shorebirds and ducks most of the summer. Now, I am restless about finding something new and discovering new birds for my life list.  What is nearby? The Missouri River! The banks of a major river could offer up a different terrain and corresponding new birds. This is an easy trip since I live only 50 miles east.  As you can see in the map below, the river starts in Montana, enters ND, turns south and enters South Dakota and onward through Missouri where it joins the Mississippi.

I Google around for camping ideas. Beaver Creek Recreation Area is exactly 50 miles to the west, nearly a straight line. This is a Corps of Engineers campground, which are always on a river or waterway of some sort. They are often cheaper than State Parks (at least up here) and are sometimes free. Let’s go Tango. Around 7 PM on Sunday Night we pull out and head west. An hour later we arrive with plenty of daylight left to set up.

The entrance sign informs me of the fee:  $18/night with electricity (compare to $25 per night in state parks in ND) and $12 without (compare to $18 at state parks in ND). I am considering electricity since the night will be cold and I like to run the electric blanket and not waste gas using the heater. Of course, I would rather camp for free but ND is mostly privately owned; no BLM land or National Forest land with dispersed camping. Soon, I will pay much less: in ten months I qualify for the Senior Discount pass, which gives free access to all National Parks, and ½ price camping at any federally owned campgrounds, including this one!

The great Missouri river, calm and sweet before sunset

Before deciding on electricity or not, I drive around and look at all the sites. What a choice! Some sites sit right along the river, on a slight rise. Other sites nestle up to a small forested area. This section reminds me of a small campground at Glendo State Park, in WY. Most spots are large and some quite private. The campground is empty, and I am tempted to take a spot along the river. However, I am intrigued by the forested area and the bird possibilities. I find a huge, private site under the trees (with electricity) where I can still see the river. I maneuver into the spot and jump out to see if my camper Half Moon sits just right. I hear large flapping sounds and see a Great Horned Owl landing on a branch inside the dark, spooky, wooded area. I grab the binoculars and we each stare at each other for a long while. Owls are my favorite birds. I consider this a warm welcome from the local inhabitants and get to work setting up camp. I discover a wood pile between my site and the next. This is not the first time I have seen random wood piles around federal campgrounds. One time in the Black Hills I saw a donation box, but not here.

Campsite on the edge of the dark forest

Electricity!

The night cools off quickly and I love having a campfire. When I camp on private land I would not think of lighting a fire, so this is only the second or third fire this summer. What a perfect night. By morning temps are cold inside the camper but the heater comes on and I get up to make coffee. I peek out the door and discover fog along the river.

That is fog, not clouds, floating on top of the water

Empty campground

Monday is a perfect camping day, sunny and 73 degrees. Tango and I walk around the large campground and see only a few trucks near the boat ramp. I read and study for a time, then we take off in Flying Cloud for the afternoon to go birding.  One of my birding goals is to distinguish between a Red-Tailed Hawk and Swainson’s Hawk (when I cannot see the red tail). I don’t make much progress on that but I see Eastern Phoebes (lifer) and a finch-like bird with an olive-green chest. It has a stocky body and looks like a blimp with wings when it flies low across cropland stubble (still cannot identify this).

This whole area is full of birds. I know many (Western Kingbird, Eastern Kingbird, Northern Harrier, Horned Larks, Killdeer). Back at the campground I see a few Robins. One has an orange, streaky breast, which is new to me. Tiny warblers dart around but trying to name them is simply too overwhelming at this point—maybe after the Hawk ID project. Later I find a large Brown Thrasher (lifer), who is chased by one of those tiny birds. Such a funny sight–a tiny birds chasing after a large, lanky thrasher.

Another campfire tonight. Again the waxing half-moon appears before dark. I sit outside and listen to an Audible book (still working on the one about a trek in Africa). I hear large wings flapping. The owl? Nope. An enormous vulture flies overhead and lands in the trees on a high perch. I cannot see it clearly, but the outline through the dense branches is unmistakable. I have never seen a vulture roosting. Soon, another flaps in and another. Looks like I am sitting near a communal vulture roosting spot. Photos are too jumbled up with branches but I can watch the big beasts through my binoculars. Occasionally one flaps up with a ruckus then settles down again. The fire dies down, and I am chilly. Time to snuggle in for the night and listen to more of the Audible book from the warmth of the bed. I plan to leave first thing in the morning so I can start work! However, since nothing is ever perfect in my world, I have a small drama that unfolds when I pack up the next day.

To be continued…