Over Labor Day Weekend, we endured one of the quintessential moments of camping; putting up the tent in the dark. All the proper elements were there, headlamps, hungry kids, too many poles, not enough stakes, and strong winds. I felt like Vizzini in the movie The Princess Bride trying to direct the process, 'move the thing...and that other thing'. It all ended well, we did have the correct number of poles and stakes, and enjoyed a fine nights' sleep (without the tent falling over). Thus began our adventure in Rocky Mountain National Park.

The next morning I woke to bird song. It was just dawn and still dark, but all kinds of birds were busily starting their mornings. Pygmy nuthatches were piping, mountain chickadees with their raspy voices were exploring, scolding noises from the wrens, chip notes uttered by warblers, and ravens croaking all pulled me out of my sleeping bag. I got dressed and went outside to put on my shoes in front of our tent. The first rays of sunshine were just breaking over the ridge. Everything was still; no wind, no campers clunking about. The only activity was from the birds, I stopped tying my shoes and just watched for a long while. Some times it is a pleasure not to be enveloped by a house in the morning.

My calm morning soon gave way to preparations; making breakfast, getting the kids going and warm conversation with my family and friends. The birds were still active, but I did not pay them as much attention. A nice breeze kicked in wafting the smells of wood smoke, frying bacon, dust, and coffee around our site. What a wonderful way to start a morning. At breakfast we decided to head to alpine, experience the tundra and see the vistas before the snow comes this fall.

We drove up Trail Ridge Road to the Ute Trail where our gentle breeze of the morning had transformed into a gale. We were all determined to go for a hike, but I thought we would not last more than a few minutes. It was chilly and our group included some folks not used to camping and four kids under the age of 10. The wind howled and we started down the trail walking like a troop of drunks because the gusts were pushing around.

Soon after starting down the trail, I heard the familiar, high pitched call note of an American Pipit. My head was down looking at my footing and it was hunched into my shoulders to protect my face from the wind. I had not been looking for birds - what kind of a bird would be out in this wind? The sound made me stop and look up. The pipit seemed to fly without much effort right over my head and into the wind. After giving a few more call notes (which were really alarm calls), the pipit spread its wings and presented its profile to the wind. Like a tiny sail, the bird rocketed past going with the wind in a long graceful arc before landing back on a featureless section of alpine.

The American Pipit, which has also been called the water pipit and buff-bellied pipit in the past, prefers habitats without trees. In Colorado, these hardy birds spend their "summers" in alpine and they winter on our plains. The breeding range of the American Pipit extends across a wide section of North American Tundra in Canada and Alaska and then in smaller patches of alpine habitat extending down the Rocky Mountains as far as New Mexico. These birds winter on the Great Plains and other grasslands and cultivated fields, as well as shoreline habitats. All of their habitat preferences are places with lots of wind (and few trees). In Boulder County, these birds will soon leave the alpine sections of Rocky Mountain National Park and the Indian Peaks, some will move onto grassland sections of the county in the east like Boulder Reservoir.

Like fellow grassland birds, the American Pipit is cryptically colored meaning its coloration gives the bird camouflage for its environment. Shaped like a small, thin robin, pipits exhibit a soft gray back and buff under parts with darker streaking on the chest. American Pipits are fun to watch walk around, some part of them always is moving. They wag their tail moving it side-to-side and up-and-down as they walk and move their head in a "pigeon" or "chicken" like motion too. Look at some of the links below to see what I mean.

When they return to their alpine or tundra breeding grounds in the spring, American Pipits share another behavior with other grassland species. Male pipits fly up off the ground 100 feet or so and descend slowly as they sing with legs extended and tail held high. This "larking" is a common way for males to announce territory and attract mates for some grassland birds. In the absence of vertical elements like trees in the habitat, this behavior gives the birds' a vertical and dominant position for declaring territory.  

After attracting a mate, the female constructs a nest in a hidden location amongst rocks or under a tuft of grass. The nest can be a simple scrape in the earth or she can add some nesting material to form a shallow cup before laying 4-5 eggs. Females incubate the eggs for about two weeks before hatching. Both parents then feed the young who will fledge another two weeks after hatching. American Pipits have one brood per year, but the Colorado Breeding Bird Atlas shows a large variation in times when young are in the nest. This large variation shows that pipit parents are starting incubation during a wide span of time in the summer. My guess is this variation is due to nest failure and snow conditions in the harsh environment in which these birds live. American Pipits arrive back to alpine in Colorado after only a few bare patches are available as early as March to commence breeding. Courtship, and all of nesting, is heavily dependent on snow conditions. Pairs must wait until the threat of snow has passed before nesting. If a nest fails due to a late snow the parents may have time to try again. These variables cause the wide time span for nest timing shown by American Pipits in Colorado.

We were feeling the harsh environment of the pipits on our walk. Our faces were all red, not from the sun, but from wind burn. At times, I was blown off the trail. I looked back to see that the kids had also blown further off the trail. To the kids' credit, we made it about two miles up the trail before turning around. Throughout our walk the pipits surrounded us, flying by calling and singing, seemingly enjoying the wind and playing in it. To us it seemed so harsh, but it's hard to feel down-trodden when all around you the pipits are singing and playing in the wind.

     american pipit