Mike Jacobs Always in Season: Early June grebe run falls short of anticipated species count

We made the grebe run on the first day of June – Thursday last week. We are Erik Fritzell, biologist and birder, and myself, bird columnist.

Lamentably, our run took us farther and found fewer species than we – or at least I – anticipated, even expected.

The species total was four out of six species that occur in North Dakota. We might have seen a fifth, but neither of us was confident of our initial identification. More on that later.

As a baseline: the six North Dakota grebes are pied-billed, eared, horned, red-necked, western and Clark’s.

The red-necked grebe set off this caper. Postings on local group websites and on ebird, maintained by Cornell University’s Laboratory of Ornithology, suggested a surge in the number of red-necked grebes. I wanted to check this out, and I invited Fritzell to join me.

I was prepared to go all the way to the Turtle Mountains, the historic range of the species in the state, but we encountered red-necked grebes in Nelson County less than 50 miles and 60 minutes west of Grand Forks.

This was not our first species. The first grebe species we found was pied-billed grebe, an outcome that we fully expected. Pied-billed is the “ditch grebe” that I described in a column about northern shovelers, the “ditch duck.” These species share the same kind of habitat, though only ditches, of course, and they are fairly often found together.

The red-necked grebe showed up quickly. We made a stop on a graded but unsurfaced road across an extensive wetland area. I was hardly out of the car before I heard the distinctive call of the red-necked grebe, a noise, rather, that I have relished on camping trips in the Turtle Mountains.

Sure enough, it was a red-necked grebe – and the bird was not alone. That wetland had half a dozen pairs, at least. That’s the count. Surely there were more, because the wetland is extensive.

The area provided everything that red-bill grebes want: thick standing vegetation ringing a patch of open water. The standing vegetation, often cattails, provides nesting structure and protection from intrusion. The open water provides good hunting. Like most other grebes, the red-necked grebe is a hunter, taking lake life under water. The exception is the pied-billed grebe, which is often a “sinker” disappearing quietly and without fanfare.

We saw red-necked grebes on other potholes that we passed, enough to convince me that the species has pushed out of its usual range and onto the open prairie. Almost certainly, that’s a response to permanent water in wetlands that sometimes go dry.

In that same wetland complex, we found eared grebes and in a larger expanse of open water, we found western grebes. By 8 a.m., we had four species.

The eared grebe is an odd-looking creature with a smallish body and a long neck. Even more remarkable are the “ears,” which are really tufts of feathers.

“The Birds of North America” tells me that eared grebes are “by far the most abundant member of its family in North America and, indeed, in the world.”

That turned out to be the day’s total – though not from lack of trying. We headed west in search of Clark’s grebes, a near twin of the western grebe, and horned grebes. I had expected to find horned grebes in much the same habitat and in the same area as the other species. That’s the situation in the Coteau country of northwestern North Dakota, where I grew up and first met the grebes.

It turns out I was projecting my newbie birder experience of six decades ago onto a different landscape. The horned grebe’s range is farther west. Realizing this – from Fritzell’s life experience, which hadn’t included teenage horned grebe sightings since he grew up in Grand Forks – I boldly made the decision to head west to Lonetree Wildlife Management area, where I had seen the horned grebe.

No luck though.

And no luck with Clark’s grebe, either. I had found this species at Lonetree, where I once owned a “birding shack.” Coal Mine Lake had plenty of western grebes, and we looked them over closely. I found one that I thought might be a Clark’s grebe, but I wasn’t completely convinced, and neither was Fritzell, and so we didn’t count it.

This was no failure, however. The species are almost indistinguishable; the clinching field mark is the placement of the eye, within or below the black cap. It takes good binoculars and steady hands to make that determination.

It was a great day afield – too many miles and too much gasoline consumed – but satisfying nonetheless. I’m going to dream up more such outings. Stay tuned.

The grebes have had their run, however. No more grebes as bird of the week – unless. …

Jacobs is a retired publisher and editor of the Herald. Reach him at mjacobs@polarcomm.com.