Birds and birders at one of Washington's richest habitats

OTHELLO, Adams County — Though I'd spent considerable time wondering what thousands of sandhill cranes would look like when they flew over my head, I had never imagined their sound.

It was my first visit to Central Washington's annual Othello Sandhill Crane Festival, which each March celebrates the early spring migration of these statuesque wading birds. About 25,000 cranes spend a month here each year, foraging for food to fuel their flight north to breeding grounds in Alaska.

It was a chance to see — and hear — not only this impressive spectacle of nature but an impressive spectacle of humans: hundreds of the Northwest's most dedicated birders, drawn to what has become one of Northwest birding's biggest annual bashes. It's a weekend full of field trips, lectures and camaraderie at one of Washington's richest bird habitats, the Potholes.

The tour I was taking shuttled visitors on school buses to observe the sandhills, which drop in nightly on a few favorite evening feeding areas, usually corn-stubbled fields, for a last snack before heading to a waterside nighttime roost.

The ride out from the agricultural town of Othello bustled with excitement and information. Trip leaders told us about how local agriculture benefited the visiting birds, and shared some basic crane biology.

Out the window was a landscape of curious contrasts. Much of the area is a desert of sagebrush and tumbleweeds. Here and there, instead of trees, basalt columns push up from the ground like miniature skyscrapers. We saw brown, freshly plowed farm fields, and others planted with grapevines and apple trees.

Marshes, ponds and lakes, the "potholes" of the region's name, are numerous, formed by the immense Ice Age flooding that also carved the region's coulees and canyons. Now, the water in them comes mostly from the Columbia Basin's irrigation system. This diversity of landscape explains why more than half of Washington's bird species are seen in the center of the state.

Sighting in the cattails

Our clutch of bird lovers quietly paid attention until an actual specimen was spotted outside the window, at which point things grew raucous. "Yellow-headed blackbirds in the cattails!" shouted a man, and suddenly binoculars were up, people peering through them in the classic hunchback birder pose.

Shouts of "where?" and "Long-billed curlew, 10 o'clock!" rang out from every corner. Soon, complete strangers were chatting, and birding companions swapped notes.

My own socializing introduced me to two Washington notables, both seated on the bench seat behind me. One was Estella Leopold, the daughter of famed conservationist and "A Sand County Almanac" author Aldo Leopold, and herself a well-known University of Washington botany professor.

Beside her sat Joan Thomas, a Washington State Parks and Recreation commissioner. Thomas also co-chairs the non-profit Farming and the Environment group, which promotes environmental stewardship of the state's farmland.

"If these farms weren't here, the cranes wouldn't be here," she said, pointing at fields of corn stubble which had been purposely left as forage. "It's right before your eyes."

I looked out the window again and there, flying over the fields, were the cranes. We got off the bus, stood beside a cornfield with a hundred other festival-goers and stared up at the sky.

Thousands of birds came our way in loose formation. We strained to see them clearly in waning light. The cranes' necks stretched long as they flew over. Their enormous, elegant wings pressed down and then lifted up swiftly.

But it was the sound of the cranes that most beguiled me. Canada geese (a few were flying alongside the cranes) are known for their honking. Cranes' vocalizations, however, are noted for their variety and high volume.

I found it difficult to define what I was hearing, as the calls seemed to encompass stuttering, trumpeting and creaking, for starters. Their wings, spanning 6 feet, filled the air with a sound like shaken bedsheets.

Judi Schrager, a crane festival novice from Issaquah, was impressed, too. "They're just amazing, how they obviously communicate with each other," she said. She heard a cat-like purring in their vocalizations.

"Carew, carew!" someone else offered. "It's between a coo and a call," said a third.

Even after the light had dwindled so much that the cranes, now in the fields, were gray smudges, people continued to stand outside the bus, watching and listening.

Craneology 101

Entrance to the 9-year-old festival included a weekend of lectures at festival headquarters in the local high school. The next morning, about 40 of us skipped "Channelled Scablands" and "Owls of Eastern Washington," to squeeze into school desks for "Craneology 101," taught by Steve Bouffard of Idaho's Department of Fish and Wildlife.

During a spectacular slideshow, we learned that cranes, of which there are currently 15 species — six of them endangered — are a family at least 40 million years old. They range from black crowned cranes with black bodies and a nimbus of spiky gold feathers, to dainty, pale blue-grey Demoiselles.

Some cranes live to be over 30 years old. Sandhills, which were named in Florida in the 1700s for the "sandhills" where they were often seen, are the most common species in North America. Cranes are known for their dancing, which can involve high bounces in the air and stick tossing.

I also learned that my fascination with crane sounds was a common one. It turns out that the genus Grus, to which sandhills belong — the whooping crane, our other, much rarer North American crane, is also a member — is so-called in imitation of the birds' vocalizations. In fact, the word "crane," itself, is derived from the German word "cranuh," also simulating the bird's call.

Their notable voices are a result of unusual biology. Members of the Grus genus have a trachea that can be two to five feet long. Instead of directly entering the lungs, this windpipe wraps through the sternum like the coiled tubing of a French Horn.

With this anatomical advantage, cranes can make loud, diverse calls. There are at least seven distinct vocalizations, from the gentle purr of a contact call, used by young or to help adults stay in touch, to the "moan-like" call made when a mated pair builds a nest. One of the most-noted is the "unison call" which is a duet between paired cranes (most mate for life) usually around breeding season.

After the lecture, I took a tour to see the region's fluffy, charismatic Burrowing Owls, which nest underground. Then I wandered past the festival booths which fill the school gymnasium. On one table, children made crane-nest hats out of paper bags, while at another a conservation group introduced a partly blind peregrine falcon.

Artist Mavis Muller, her own cap trimmed in pink, her eyes an ebullient blue, exhibited her crane-obsessed creations. A self-proclaimed "craniac" from Homer, Alaska, she has spent the past 22 years migrating with the West Coast sandhills, accompanying them south to California and Texas each autumn, and returning with them each spring.

She supports herself by selling her art and giving lectures. Standing beside a display of her intricate hand woven baskets, art cards and handcrafted books, all dedicated to the birds, she shared a crane haiku, which draws on the tradition of cranes as symbols of peace:

In a quiet wind

Three young cranes glide writing a

Peace poem on sky silk.

"The natural world loves it when we give it voice," she said.

Speaking of which, how would she describe the call of the sandhill crane?

Muller took a deep breath, and lifted her chin.

"Garroo-a-aaah!" she belted out, rolling her "r's." She filled our corner of the room for a moment with wild song.

Maria Dolan is a freelance writer based in Ballard. Outdoors, she loves camping, hiking, kayaking and bird-watching. Indoors, she's a neighborhood booster who loves the Tractor Tavern, Oaxaca tacos, and storytime at the Ballard Library. She is co-author of "Nature in the City: Seattle" and author of "Outside Magazine's Urban Adventure: Seattle."

IF YOU GO

Othello

Where

Follow Interstate 90 east to Vantage then take Highway 26 to Othello. Or, take I-90 to Moses Lake and then head south on Highway 17 to Othello.

Lodging

The Best Western in Othello fills up quickly before the Crane Festival. TV, Wi-Fi, full breakfast, pool and Jacuzzi. 800-240-7865 or www.bestwesternothello.com

Cabana Motel is across the street from the Best Western. 800-442-4581.

Mar Don Resort is a fishing motel on the Potholes Reservoir 25 minutes from Othello. Plain, clean, with kitchenettes. Bring your own kitchen supplies, including coffee maker, cleaning sponge and dish soap. Small shop for essentials on-site. No TVs or phones in rooms. 800-416-2736 or www.mardonresort.com

For captivating footage of burrowing owls, and an upcoming live feed: wdfw.wa.gov/wildwatch/

Scientific information about sandhill cranes, and an audio file of their calls: www.birds.cornell.edu/BOW/sancra/

Restaurants

Casa Mexicana and El Caporal are side-by-side across the street from the Best Western on Main Street.

Taqueria Guerrero is on Main Street next to Le-Pre-Kon Supermarket. Phone: 509-488-0992. Carne asada, barbacoa and huge burritos.

Tacos Michoacan's taco vans usually are parked at Highway 26 and First Avenue in late afternoon. Recommended for carne asada or barbacoa tacos.

Fresh corn tortillas are made at Le-Pre-Kon, 1115 E. Main St. Mi Carniceria sells pastries and bread. Main and Fourth.

The restaurant Andes Road is located in "Little Mexico," inside a store on Andes Road. Ask at the Chamber of Commerce for detailed driving directions.

Time Out is the local standby for pizzas, salads, sandwiches and burgers. Main Street next to the Best Western. 1025 E. Main St. 509-488-2788

The Old Hotel is a small café inside an art gallery serving sandwiches, wraps, soups and salads. 33 E. Larch St. 509-488-5936.

More information

Othello Sandhill Crane Festival information: www.othellosandhillcranefestival.org, 1-866-726-3445.

Columbia National Wildlife Refuge office:

For more on birding hotspots in the area, order the "Coulee Corridor" map from Audubon Washington. wa.audubon.org/birds_GreatWABirdingTrail_CouleeCorridor.html or 866-922-4737

The Central Basin Audubon Society (CBAS) offers trips in the area, and further information. www.cbas.org/

For more on the connection between Washington farming and wildlife, visit: www.farmingandtheenvironment.org/