Birding Above the Fog in Kneeland

Have you ever wanted to just get away from it all? Like, recently?

Maybe you made the mistake of catching a few minutes of national news and now your go-to birds — the raucous Whimbrels and wheeling Caspian Terns off the Hikshari’ Trail in Eureka and the cheery Common Yellowthroats at the Arcata Marsh — aren’t bringing your blood pressure down the way they once did. You need a change of scenery.

The good news is you don’t have to go all the way to Canada to get one. Just a few short miles up the hill is a place where the sky is an endless canvas and golden prairies truly feel like amber waves of grain. Welcome to Kneeland, a sky-high ecosystem with its own unique array of eye-catching birds.

It’s only about 13 miles from the Three Corners Market in Freshwater to the Kneeland Airport, but the steep climb on twisty roads will require your full attention — the roads may be icy and it’s a long way down if you miss a turn. And check the weather forecast before you roll; like most things in life, blue skies aren’t guaranteed, even if it’s all sunshine and T-shirts on the coast. Sometimes it can be downright balmy up top and you won’t need that winter coat after all, so it’s best to be prepared with layers of clothing you can peel off or add on, plenty of water and something nourishing to nibble on like a dark chocolate bar, possibly with almonds.

At roughly the 10-mile mark the road emerges from the tree line into open grasslands dotted with stands of oak and spruce on both sides. This is a good place to find the nearest pullout and listen for bird songs. You’re likely to hear the melodic “cheer” calls of Western Bluebirds, which often perch on fences or fly-catch from powerlines along the road. They’re gorgeous members of the thrush family, the males bright blue with a rusty breast and the females, silvery-blue and rust-red. Bluebirds have long been symbols of hope, joy and good fortune ahead, so seeing one is a great way to start your adventure.

You might also hear the song of a Western Meadowlark, a sweet melody like a piccolo running up and down the scale. Spotting the meadowlark will be a challenge, though; its back and wing pattern of tan, brown and black renders it almost invisible in the grass. But if you can find one perched in the open, you can’t miss its striking yellow breast and black bib. And where there’s one meadowlark, there might be dozens more hidden from view, so keep an eye out for what could be a large flock.

Another bird to watch for is the California Scrub-Jay, which looks very different than the Steller’s Jays more commonly seen on the coast. A Scrub-Jay is crestless, has deep blue back, wings and tail, pale underparts and a blue cap with a white bib on its throat. Like most jays, it has a raucous call that may be the first clue to its presence; it’s also somewhat less “in your face” than a Steller’s and can be tougher to spot in thick spruce branches and brushy patches.

Up around the airport, which is pretty quiet even during peak travel times, you might want to stop and take in the sights: rich golden prairies dotted with cool rock formations and groves of twisted live oaks, plus gobsmacking views for miles in every direction. Then look for Acorn Woodpeckers, active and boisterous, which are year-round residents in the oak groves and are highly entertaining to watch. The Acorn Woodpecker’s clownish face has circles of black and white with a red cap and white eye, and when they fly from tree to tree, they show a bright white wing patch. Their call is a loud raspy “ratchet ratchet ratchet.”

Much scarcer is the Lewis’ Woodpecker, which shows up in Kneeland from time to time. The majority of North American woodpeckers come in some combination of black, white and red all over, but not the Lewis’s: it has a dark metallic green back and wings, red face, gray collar and vibrant pink belly. Who knows why these large, social birds are so flamboyantly dressed? Nature made them that way, perhaps to remind us all that our differences are uniquely wonderful. I love these fascinating birds because they remind me of my son, born bright, beautiful and fabulous.

And while you’re here, listen carefully: You can sometimes pick out the harsh two-note “yank-yank” call of a White-breasted Nuthatch, an uncommon bird in Humboldt but one that’s partial to high elevations. I spent an icy-cold hour and a half here staking out this particular bird and wishing I’d brought a Thermos of hot soup instead of cold tea, but just before my chattering teeth got the best of me I got my nuthatch.

As always, don’t forget to look up — you just might spot a Golden Eagle soaring overhead.

So, if you’re ready to be far, far away from the newsfeeds and craziness and see some colorful and fun birds, take the short trip up the hill. But first, check the weathers and stock up on snacks and water. Then set out with a hefty dash of persistence, optimism and patience, which is a great way to approach both life and birding.

Sarah Hobart (she/her) is a freelance writer based in Humboldt County.

This article appears in ‘If Only We’d Done More to Save Her’.