My kitchen remodeling effort is finally complete, so a couple of weeks ago I packed up the car with camping gear and headed to Turkey Creek. It seems as if most of the mountain ranges in the southwest US have a “Turkey Creek.” I imagine this says something about the ubiquity of wild turkeys at the time the first hunters and trappers came through. Many of those ranges lost their turkeys to overhunting, but reintroduction efforts have been very successful in many places, so once again, its possible to hear males gobbling on spring mornings and find their tracks in the dust.
This particular Turkey Creek is located in the Chiricahua Mountains, near the Arizona/New Mexico border. I’ve camped in a number of locations in the Chiricahuas (see Crazy night in the Chiricahuas; The dynamic dawn chorus; After the fire the flowers bloom; Chiricahua night sounds), but not Turkey Creek, so I decided to see what I was missing. In addition to some ranch houses at the mouth of the canyon, there is a US Forest Service guard station, a USFS campground, a number of dispersed camping sites, and quite a few trails that depart from the road. It’s a lovely deep wooded canyon, full of a variety of oaks, pines, Doug-firs, and sycamores.
The small campground was empty except for some picnickers, so the dog and I went ahead and occupied a site and set up camp. We were pleasantly surprised to find water in the creek – a scarce sight in southeastern Arizona at the end of May. We followed a trail up the canyon, and even found a small waterfall:
We headed back to camp to enjoy the rest of the afternoon. A few airplanes flew far overhead, but other than that it was very quiet. Just the little stream and a variety of birds softly chirping. And lots of bees and flies providing a background note.
As evening fell, the crickets started up and so did the whippoorwills. Some common nighthawks flew by with an occasional buzz, and I could hear some distant screech owls. A lovely evening alternative to the planes, trains, and barking dogs that dominate the soundscape at home.
The dawn chorus started up shortly after 4 am, as the whippoorwills were joined by American Robins and Western Wood-Pewees. More and more birds joined the mix until the din finally convinced me to get up and greet the day. Just as I was finishing up breakfast, I heard a lovely duet by two Montezuma Quail – male and female calling back and forth to each other:
Listen for the smooth descending trill of the male, and the stepped descending trill of the female. Montezuma Quail are shy, small little quail that live in small family groups. They keep track of each other in their grassy wooded habitat with a variety of vocalizations. Most of their range is in Mexico, and they barely cross into the US in southern Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas. I always find it a treat to hear or see them, although they do have the habit of waiting until you almost step on them before flushing – guaranteed to get your heart racing.
After breakfast, we returned to the trail we had started the afternoon before, continuing on up Mormon Creek. The trail wandered up and up, past a spring or two, through thick groves of pine, oak, and ash. Some of the slopes had been heavily impacted by past wildfires, but most of the vegetation was returning. There were quite a few wildflowers still out. The deadfall started to accumulate on the trail, and we finally had to turn back, to pack up camp and head back to the desert.