Fall Becomes It: A Birding Hike at the Bobelaine Audubon Sanctuary

Feather River

Date: November 10, 2019
Place: Bobelaine Audubon Sanctuary, Yuba City, California
Address: 15 Laurel Ave, Yuba City, CA
Length: 2.4 miles
Level: easy

After a busy summer of much travel I was looking forward to a calm family vacation not too far from home. Mid-November is an excellent time to go bird watching in the Central Valley and this year we decided to go to Yuba City and explore the refuges and preserves in that area.
Some time after making that decision we found out that the Yuba City Swan Festival was taking place that very same weekend we were planning to go there. What a happy coincidence! Similar in concept though smaller in magnitude the festival offers tours and field trips to various birding hot spots. We arrived fairly late to the festival but were able to book spots for the Bobelaine Audubon sanctuary birding tour on Sunday morning.
At about 8:30 am we arrived with the rest of the group to the small parking area of Bobelaine Audubon Sanctuary where our guides were waiting for us. While my ears were cocked to listen to the introduction my eyes were attracted to the one plant I saw blooming near the cars - an invasive verbena that found a cosy home in California.

Seashore Vervain, Verbena litoralis. Non-native.

Like much of the lower lands of California, the area south of Yuba City is reclaimed land. What used to be a seasonal wetland with thick riparian forests and rich wildlife is now irrigation-controlled farmland and the seasonal river runoff is kept behind a high levee that needs to be constantly maintained to prevent flooding of the farmlands.  

In 1975 Bob and Elaine Crandall the owners of the area's farm had donated 450 acres of near-wild land along the river to be protected as a nature reserve. This land is now managed by the Audubon Society as a plan and wildlife sanctuary.

The Levee. On the left - the sanctuary. On the right - the farmlands

Our hike started with going up and on the levee itself. One has to be on top it to appreciate how high it actually is. Our guide said that during the Oroville flood two years ago the water reached near the top and even seeped through in places. It's scary to think what might have happened if the Oroville Dam would have broken down completely and the flood would have topped the levee.

Our hike as captured by my GPS

A birders' hike has a special dynamics: brisk walk for short distances then a lengthy stop because someone spotted or heard a bird and everyone gathers to observe and photograph. Because we started out in the open we had clear view if the sky and all that flew above.

Great Egret

The blue sky in the above photo is a bit misleading - the air was actually quite murky - the results of recent fires and of dust raised by heavy agriculture machinery. The Sutter Buttes which would look very prominent on a clear day looked like a ghostly apparition through the heavy pollution curtain

View to the Sutter Buttes 

We walked northward with the sanctuary to our east but our first observations were down at the fields west of the levee. There, among the numerous man-stuff piled by the orchards, towhees and sparrows were hopping or taking low flights from one artifact to another. There were several species of them, juvenile and adult. Pappa Quail photo of two juvenile Golden-crowned and White-crowned offers a nice comparison of the two species.

Juvenile Golden-crowned Sparrow (left) and juvenile White-crowned Sparrow (right)

Farther away on the power line poles perched a sole American kestrel, observing its surroundings. We got a bit closer while walking on the levee and at some point the kestrel decided we were two close and flew off to the next pole over.

American Kestrel

The trees to our right blocked the view into the sanctuary but they too harbored birds.

Starling

Just shy of half a mile we climbed down from the levee and entered the sanctuary itself, stepping into a tunnel of dense riparian vegetation. Once upon a time before the levee was constructed and the seasonal wetlands were dried to I've way for agriculture, this riparian forest extended far and wide from the river. Nowadays the sanctuary extends only half a mile between the Feather River and the levee.

Into the Sanctuary

This narrow strip of near-wilderness is home to a forest of large valley oaks, sycamores, and cottonwood trees, as well as numerous bushes and vines (of which poison oak is prominent).
The poison oak was in it's most difficult stage to identify - the winter leafless phase. By now however, I do recognize the general shape of this bush/vine, especially when they bear the berries.

Berries of Poison Oak, Toxicodendron diversilobum

Other than poison oak, my attention was almost immediately drawn to the California wild grape which was wearing its fall colors. This vine so prevalent that it covered whole trees, draping down from the host branches like golden curtains.

Wild California Grape

The California wild grape attracted me not only because of its magnificent fall foliage but also because of the ripe fruit clusters. They looked very inviting but were protected by bars of bare poison oak stems.

California Wild Grape, Vitis californica

Another vine that got my attention was the Clematis with its beautiful tufts of feathery fruit, which always remind me of Dr. Seuss' The Lorax traffula trees.

Clematis

We walked slowly down the shaded path, stopping occasionally to listen for birds or for the guides' explanations. I liked that they also talked about the plants there, which were much easier to observe than the birds.
the guide pointed out the button bush and as I was taking the photos I noticed the green Heteroptera bug crawling up the stem. By the time I finished looking at it I had to run to catch up with the rest of the group.

Common Buttonbush, Cephalanthus occidentalis, with a stink bug

The prominent oak in the sanctuary is the valley oak. This oak species is deciduous and the trees we saw were in the process of turning their colors. Some of the trees were covered with oak galls which are formed by parasitic midge, while others were clean of galls. I still haven't found out why the midge prefer to attach some trees while leaving alone others of the same species.

Galls on Valley Oak, Quercus lobata

Another common river tree there is the sycamore, which loves growing near, or right in, the water. The sycamores were also turning their leaves at the time of our hikes. The display of fall colors in the sanctuary was really beautiful.

California Sycamore, Platanus racemosa 

We passed through a clearing and our guide said that it was caused by a fire that had burned the area there, killing many trees. 

Not forgetting the primary goal of this hike, the group of birders were pointing out birds here and there. Someone spotted a bluebird and the elder chika caught it on camera.

Western Bluebird

I had missed most of the bird sightings but did pay attention to the interesting vegetation, like this cottonwood tree that carried many balls of mistletoe in its canopy. The mistletoe is also a parasite, sinking its roots into the host tree and tapping it for water and nutrients. It does photosynthesize, though.

Cottonwood, populous fremontii, and Mistletoe, Phoradendron leucarpum 

California isn't famous for its fall colors, yet fall colors do beautify many places in this state. The riparian forest at the Bobelaine Audubon Sanctuary looked magnificent wearing fall, and I speculate that if the primeval riparian forest would have remained intact then California would have been too famous for its fall colors.

Fall Colors at the Bobelaine Audubon Sanctuary

We neared the Feather River. While all the birders moved on to the waterfront I lingered behind because I found the unexpected - wildflowers blooming in mid-November!
Well, only one species, to be accurate. And the one trusted to bloom this late in the year.

Telegraph Weed, Heterotheca grandiflora

I joined the rest of the group at the waterfront. The river was at its lowest, yet flowing pretty fast. It didn't look deep but our guide said there was a channel near the far shore that allowed boat traffic up and down the river.

Feather River

The river seemed eerily devoid of birds - there were no waterfowl or shorebirds n or by the water. Saving grace was a single black phoebe perched on some driftwood poking out of the water.

Black Phoebe

Like a consolation prize, yellow-rumped warblers posed for the camera in the nearby shore vegetation.

Yellow-rumped Warbler

I let my gaze drift across the river, where the smoothly flowing water was so calm on the surface that it made a near-perfect reflection of the oaks on the other shore.

Feather River reflection

Then a buzz of excitement lit up our group - someone had spotted a large fish making its way downstream. Immediately speculations shot up in the air - was it salmon? But the colors were off. And if it was a salmon, why was it moving downstream? Maybe it was a sturgeon? Or a pike?
Pappa Quail took a few high zoomed photos of the fish and later I emailed it to ur guide, who in turn passed it on to a fish expert. The answer came back that this fish was a male king salmon at at the end of his days.

King Salmon, male 

We started back, looping around to a parallel trail to that we'd hiked to the river. Just as our guide predicted, birders go slow and stop often on the way out, but hike fast with very few stops on the way back.
They didn't walk too fast as to miss the ruby-crowned kinglet. This is a common bird that is difficult to photograph because it likes to hide in thick vegetation and it constantly on the move. But the elder chika got it :-)

Ruby-crowned Kinglet

Back on the levee we could no longer see the kestrel, but a red-tailed hawk sailed the sky in search of food.

Red-tailed Hawk

The water west of the levee is all managed by agricultural needs. From the heights of the levee I gazed down on the irrigation channels and the pipes running through the orchards. Such a different landscape! The wild wetlands were immensely rich and prosperous, and supported a huge and diverse   biome that included the indigenous people, the Miwok and the Maidu nations. Nowadays this area is all man-managed, and with intensive agriculture supports a huge human population that extends well beyond the locality of the river and its original food plains. But the price of this agricultural prosperity was dire, because the rich and diverse ecosystem that flourished here before is all but gone.

Irrigation channel

Back at the parking lot I talked with our guides and with some of the other birders in our group. Meanwhile, Pappa Quail was busy observing a flock of cedar waxwings nearby. 

Cedar Waxwings

On our way to the hike we passed a few flooded rice fields populated by swans and ducks. On our way out of the sanctuary, Pappa Quail stopped the car by the fields and too took the opportunity to take a closer look at these majestic birds. 

Tundra Swans and Northern Pintail ducks

This lovely hike was the last of our participation at the Yuba City Swan Festival this year. Perhaps next time I'll remember to sign up in advance to more field trips but for this year this was it. We didn't see many birds on this hike, and none of them were new to us. But we had a lovely hike in a beautiful preserve that we likely to have not let about if not through the festival. I learned a lot that day and I would love to come back and walk there in different seasons as well. And as intended by Bob and Elaine Crandall intended - I hope this place will remain protected for all generations to come.

Many thanks to our superb guides, Maureen and Ken of the Sacramento Audubon Society!  

Mysterious Charm: Hiking Brockman Canyon at the Sutter Buttes

Date: March 16, 2019
Place: The Brockman Property at the Sutter Buttes, Yuba City, California
Length: about 6.5 miles in and out
Level: moderate+

Every time I drive on highway 5 past Colusa I see in on the east: the cluster of toothy, rugged peaks, distinctly separate from the Sierra Nevada range, standing alone and aloof in the middle if the otherwise completely flat California Central Valley. These are the Sutter Buttes.
They look very enticing and I wanted to hike them from the first time I saw them. When I looked at the map, however, I saw that their location wasn't adorned with any park-marking green. On one of my stays in the area I asked about them and was told flatly that all the Sutter Buttes were private property and off limits to the general public. Driving around the buttes confirmed this as all the possible access ways were clearly marked as such.
I was disheartened. Every time I drove by I looked at the buttes wistfully. After several years if yearning I decided to find a way to hike there, even if that meant striking some sort of a deal with the property owners.
As it turned out, this was already done before me. I was happy to find out about the Middle Mountain Interpretive Hikes (MMIH) organization, that lead guided group hikes in the Sutter Buttes. Four of the land owners have generously opened up their land to these hikes. By signing in advance and paying a fee (all easement fees, the guides are volunteers) one can actually hike the Sutter Buttes! Now it was just a matter of taking the right opportunity.

The Sutter Buttes, viewed from Gray Lodge Wildlife Area (looking southeast)

I signed our family for a hike back in 2016 and had to cancel because of an unforeseen conflict. The next opportunity came last November, and I signed us up for a fall hike up the buttes. Alas, a few days before the hike date the horrific Camp Fire broke out, decimating the town of Paradise and neighboring communities, and rendering the air unbreathable not only in Yuba City but many miles south and west, including the Bay Area. Once again the hike was cancelled. We had a lovely weekend in South Lake Tahoe where the air was clean and the town unseasonably peaked with others who escaped the smoke, and hiked Emerald Bay and a nice mountain loop trail in Desolation Wilderness.
I was determined not to let two more years pass before booking again a hike at the Sutter Buttes so I left an open weekend in my quick-filling schedule and as soon as the MMIH spring hikes were posted I booked us a hike and crossed my fingers, and my toes.
On the morning of March 16, despite concerns over the elder chika's foot which was bothering her, we came to the Sutter Memorial Museum in Yuba City to meet our guides and the group we were to hike with. Following the check-in and a short introduction we got in the cars and drove in a convoy to the trailhead.

At the Brockman Canyon Trailhead

Our hike was the easier choice of the two offered that day, and was to be in a single property area - the Brockman property. The lead guide let us through the property gate to a gravel parking area, and once we were all ready to begin she beaconed us to assemble by the large rocks that dotted the greenery near the dirt road we were on.
It didn't look like there were any wildflowers at first, but as we stepped on the grass I could see there plenty of little popcorn flowers.

Slender Popcorn Flower, Plagiobothrys tenellus 

Pappa Quail and the elder chika immediately found their subjects of interest - a pair of killdeer calling on the rocks.

Killdeer

It took me a few moments to realize that our guide was talking. I rose up from kneeling by the flowers and listened. She gave a more in-depth introduction for the hike and also told us about the Native Californians who used this place for acorn processing and for spiritual awareness. She showed us the acorn grinding mortars that were curved in the rocks and told us there were many of them scattered around the buttes.
That area's Native people are of the Maidu Nation, the southern neighbors of the Yana, whose tragic history I first became aware of through the personal story of Ishi, the last of the wild California native people. The Maidu believe that the spirits of their dead are taken by wildlife up the buttes to their resting place. The Sutter Buttes are therefore a sacred place for them. Common folks, said our guide, are not supposed to go up there, only highly spiritual people. I don't consider myself a very spiritual person but I could certainly feel the majestic air of this place.

Indian Grinding Rock

The guide led us back to the dirt road and after a short distance she pointed out to us a small, brown cabin, where naturalist Walt Anderson used to live when he worked on his book Inland Island, about the Sutter Buttes. The cabin used to be higher up the canyon, she told us, but was moved down some time ago.

Walt Anderson's Cabin

We passed the farm structures and equipment and soon we were walking alongside the creek. The creek was running nicely, fed by seasonal springs. Above-ground water is seasonal there, we were told. In two-three months everything would dry up.

For now, though, the happy sound of running water filed the air and the sparkling  flow dazzled the eyes.

Other sounds filled the air as well: birds were everywhere, sounding their spring songs. Pappa Quail and the elder chika found a bluebird high above them sitting in a mistletoe-burdened oak.

Western Bluebird

We crossed the creek a few times, hopping on strategically-placed rocks. As we progressed up the creek the slopes drew nearer and we were heading deeper into Brockman Canyon.

Now that we left the farmed area behind I started seeing more wildflowers. One common sight was the bloom of the blue dicks.

Blue Dicks, Dichelostemma capitatum

Another familiar early bloomer was the man-root, a low-spreading vine covered with delicate white flowers.

California Man-root, Marah fabacea 

We paused a little after the last creek crossing to drink and take a breather before the real ascend begun. The elder chika used the time to sight and photograph a kinglet.

Ruby-crowned Kinglet

I, on the other hand, was attracted by the brilliant color of a large, berry-laden toyon.

Toyon, Heteromeles arbutifolia 

Besides, the vegetation there resembled much that of the East Bay Hills, all the way from oak to poison oak. I felt right at home.

Bicolor Lupine, Lupinus bicolor

After the final creek crossing we started ascending for real. The trail all the way was a dirt road passable by motor vehicles so the grade wasn't very steep. Still, it was a steady ascent with quite a few switch-backs. As we got higher, the view opened up.

Looking back we were able to appreciate how high we climbed so quickly. the valley appeared quite a distance below. We were in a different world now.

Whenever I managed to tear my gaze away from the magnificent view of the butte peaks it was to look down at the little, colorful wildflowers.

Bird's Eyes, Gilia tricolor 

The Sutter Buttes are considered to be the smallest mountain range in the world. This means that it was completely separate and very local forces that drove the andesite up to create the rise of the mountains. Simultaneous with the rise, erosion forces took effect in shaping the buttes, giving them the sharp, toothy appearance.
Everywhere around us the hard, angular rocks contrasted with the rounded slopes of grass-covered topsoil. It was a beautiful, wild scene.

The sheer rocks are home to white-throated swift and Pappa Quail managed to get one on camera, which is quite an achievement, considering how swift are the swift in flight.

White-throated Swift

I settled for less speedy subjects to appreciate. At higher elevations there was much more bloom and of many more species. While there were no 'carpets' like those seen in places like the Carrizo Plain National Monument, there was still an abundance of colorful wildflowers. I particularly liked the magnificent baby blue eyes that lined our trail in light , newborn blue.

Baby Blue Eyes, Nemophila menziesii

Another flower that attracted my attention was the  California saxifrage, a plant I might not have noticed if not for the special attention my botanist friend had given it on her visit in California last spring.

California Saxifrage, Micranthes californica

Then our guide stopped and pointed at the northern horizon. Mount Shasta, she said.
The air was dirty and visibility awful. Straining my eyes I could barely see the outline of a ghostly white bump on the horizon.

View north 

I asked Pappa Quail to photograph that spot with high zoom. At home, after manipulating the levels and color balance the magnificent snow-white top of Mount Shasta popped through the dirty air.

Mount Shasta

We continued ascending up the trail. Looking further east a smaller white bump on the horizon became visible - Lassen Peak came into view. Our guide pointed out to us a stock pond below us, nestled between the eastern slopes. The pond, one of three, was in the largest single property in the buttes. The property owner, said our guide, is one of the four who opened his land to the interpretive hikes and sometimes he guides them as well. She said that going with him is an exciting experience and I made a note to sign up for one of these hikes next time.

As with Shasta, I prompted Pappa Quail to get a zoomed image of the snowy peak and later cleared up the image to reveal that beautiful volcanic complex. 

Lassen Volcanic National Park

In fact, Pappa Quail used his powerful birding zoom on many other things besides birds, such as this beautifully balanced rock on the ridge to our south. A far gliding vulture was caught in the photo just before disappearing behind the rock.

Eventually the guides took us off the trail and into a pretty oak knoll where we sat down for lunch and a restful break. 

It was a nice warm day and our guides suggested to check the rocks for snakes before sitting down. I did so, and after I was satisfied there were no snakes nearby I sat by a cluster of rocks. Pappa Quail looked over me and spotted a lizard in the crack just behind where I was sitting. The lizard seemed curious, but not brave enough to climb out of its rock crack.

Although I didn't notice them at the time, acorn woodpecker were present and Pappa Quail and the elder chika took notice. They weren't too close but I love the photos that show the woodpecker's bright red crown gleaming in the sunlight.

Acorn Woodpecker

After a good restful break the guides presented us withe a choice to extend our ridge exploration to the nearby western butte. Two of the back up guides were to stay at the knoll and the elder chika, whose foot was bothering her, chose to stay behind. The younger chika immediately decided she would stay too and so Pappa Quail volunteered to stay with them while I joined the rest of the group to explore more of the Brockman Ridge area.

West Butte

A few decades ago one of the Sutter Buttes property owners thought it would be a good idea to release wild pigs in the area for hunting purposes. The pigs became very successful settlers there, and cause significant damage to the local ecology. All the plowed earth seen at the bottom of the below photo is pig diggings. And there were vast areas of that kind of damage. Pig hunting is done in the buttes, but it looks like that population is there to stay.

View Northwest from Brockman Ridge

At the valley floor below I saw a simmering strip of water.That, I was told, was the Sacramento River Bypass. The river itself is the thin line of water, barely visible behind the wide bypass.

The Sacramento River Bypass

This winter California is officially out of the drought period. The reservoirs are full and the bypass is overflowing. The Sierra Nevada has the thickest snow pack seen in many years and there's more precipitation in the forecast. South Cal is experiencing an amazing superbloom which I am thoroughly missing this year. I can only hope that the wildflower show will be as magnificent here in North Cal when it peaks next month.

The Sacramento River Bypass

As we progressed westward along the ridge we got a wider view of the South Butte with the double antennae on its top. The north facing slopes of the butte were covered by a thick oak forest. Our guide said that although the buttes appear arid when viewed from afar, some of the interior butte hikes are almost completely shaded.

South Butte

We walked at a leisurely pace and had ample time to imbibe in the beautiful sights. The rugged rocks had lives of their own - many of them were covered in colorful lichen. 

The base of these rocks sheltered little flowering plants from the aggressive grazing of cattle and the tilling hooves of pigs. 

Slender tropidocarpum, Tropidocarpum gracile 

Probably the most common wildflower up there that day was the fiddle neck. One (or more) of the numerous species of that genus all of which look the same to me. They bloom in a very pretty orange that is no second in beauty to the California poppy and can too show in carpets of superbloom. 

There was no superbloom display on the buttes that day, however. Still, the lovely wildflowers were plentiful and a pleasing sight. 

Fiddleneck, Amsinckia sp. 

We reached the end of the trail and turned back. One of the guides led the way along the trail while the head guide brought up the rear. I lingered with her for a few minutes, asking questions and being slow of letting go of this beautiful place. It was time to get back, however. I could imagine the chikas and Pappa Quail getting restless where they had remained. 

A snow-capped peak poked the horizon between two of the buttes. That peak belongs to the Sierra Nevada, but I do not know which one it is. 

Much of the buttes area is used for cattle grazing. Black angus cows and calves roamed along the ridge and moots them scattered away as we walked along the trail, seeing us humans as we were: a threat to their safety. 

Near the trail was a shallow pail with a salt rock and two young bulls were licking it eagerly. They too moved away as we returned down the trail, but didn't stray much, just waited for us to move on. 

Bull&Bull

It was past mid-day now and the high sun illuminated better the coastal range. Although much lower in elevation than the Sierra Nevada, the coastal range does get snow too, and this year it got even more than usual. While the lower elevation snow we've seen earlier this winter had already melted, there was much more still on Snow Mountain, and north of there at the Trinity Alps, across the valley from Mount Shasta. 

The Coastal Range and Snow Mountain 

Our guides led us to another pretty knoll where all the rocks were covered in little cushions of soft, red and green moss. They had us sit there in silence and contemplate Nature while the two guides left behind came down with Pappa Quail and the chikas and rejoined us. 

Our guide spotted a few Barbados sheep grazing on the northern slopes of South Butte. These sheep were also a feral population. They were too distant to get any good image of.

Moss Rock

Apparently Pappa quail and the chikas weren't idle while waiting for us. The elder chika spotted some cedar waxwings.

Cedar Waxwing

They also watched a red-tailed hawk doing aerobatic maneuvers. The rest of the time the chikas simply drove each other crazy.

Red-tailed Hawk

It was time to start downhill on our way back. For my elder chika it wasn't a moment too soon - her foot was hurting a lot. She was using hiking poles and chugged along bravely. The younger chika walked alongside me and informed me that she would like to hike the double transect trail which crosses the entire Sutter Buttes and loops back. I wondered aloud how would that fit with her lack of enthusiasm to go on the extended walk but she simply shrugged. I let the subject drop and focused on less complicated issues, such as the beauty of floral patches along the trail.  

Our hike wasn't a loop - we were coming down the same trail we walked up on. Still, things can look different when seen from a different angler even a different lighting. 

The poppies, which were half closed when we saw them on our way up were fully open now. There weren't carpets of them, but there were enough to uplift the spirit. 

California Poppy, Eschscholzia californica

I also had a second chance to photograph one very interesting plant that we saw on our way up - the California Dutchman Pipevine that has a very interesting looking flower. 

California Pipevine, Aristolochia californica

We made it down to the low area fairly quickly and soon we were walking along the creek again, this time downstream. 

Our guides took care to gather the group at every creek crossing or gate, but this time we didn't stop for any break. I had my own short stops to take a closer look at things and photograph them, like this pretty bouquet of miner's lettuce. 

Miner's Lettuce, Clayton perfoliata

The chikas found a bovine skull which reminded me the inspiration of Georgia O'Keeffe. I think she would have liked this place. 

The final mile of the hike went as quickly as a breeze. Once again at the foot of the buttes and the grazing pasture dotted with rocks. There were more birds active now, many of them claiming territory atop one large rock or another.

Brewer's Blackbird

There was still plenty of daylight left so we decided to go and see some more birds at the Gray Lodge Wildlife Area (where the first photo of this post was taken). We said goodby to the guides and to everyone else, who were going to drive back to Yuba City, and turned our car in the other direction.

Sparrow 

I looked at the Sutter Buttes with satisfaction. Finally we made it there, and we had a lovely hike up these mysterious and almost inaccessible mountains. There is still much more to see there and I sure hope to go hiking there again, on different trails. It is through the collaboration of the Middle Mountain Interpretive Hikes and the generous land owners who allow access to their property that make possible to explore this most fascinating landmark. Many thanks to Alison, Joaquin, Julie, and Paul, who led us on this wonderful hike!

Here's the link to Middle Mountain Interpretive Hikes website.