Exploring the Warner Mountains

In far northeastern California lies a remote range of mountains known as the Warner Mountains.  More than 90 miles long, they hug the California-Nevada border, and just cross into Oregon east of Lakeview.  The peaks at the southern end approach 10,000 ft, while those in the north only rise to a little over 8,000 ft.   They also form the western edge of the Great Basin, so waters on the east side drain into salty playas, on those on the west side drain into Goose Lake, whose waters eventually make it to the Sacramento River before heading to the Pacific Ocean (if they aren’t used for irrigation before then).

I’d passed the Warners several times on my various explorations of southern Oregon, before the high peaks and fir covered slopes beckoned me in.  The range is loaded with campgrounds and small reservoirs, most accessible by dirt roads ranging from smooth gravel to 4 x 4 only.  In the last couple of years, I’ve camped in five of these campgrounds, plus a boondocking site or two.  In addition to beautiful scenery, the area is rich with wildlife, although it’s isolation from the rest of the Cascade Range has meant that some species haven’t made it there in sufficient numbers to persist.   But the diversity of birds and butterflies is outstanding.  Below I describe some of the sights and sounds of the Warners.

A wild dawn chorus

In early July, 2019, I stopped by a campground at Stough Reservior, on my way between Sierra Buttes and the Sheldon Antelope Refuge, where I often spend the 4th of July (to spare Shadow the trauma of fireworks).   There were a few other groups at the campground, but I managed to find an isolated spot in the pines away from the crowd at the Reservoir.  I didn’t take any photos of the area (oops), but the photo below gives a general impression of the west side of the Warner Mountains.

There was a lot of animal activity, mostly birds, but also baby squirrels and chipmunks and even Sierra tree frogs calling at night (too far to get a good recording).   The dawn chorus was beautiful and lively:

Noisy mammals by the side of the road

In 2020, I did not go to the Sheldon Antelope Refuge for the 4th of July, foolishly opting to stay home, where many of my neighbors illegally set off fireworks.  I don’t think Shadow has forgiven me yet.  But we did head back to the Warners in early August.  As I experienced throughout my travels in the Great Basin in 2020, many more people were camping in areas that are normally pretty deserted.  The previous year, I had explored the northern end of the Warners, in Oregon, and found a nice little campground hidden way back in a maze of dirt roads.  Saw hardly anyone for several days.  In 2020 when I arrived, someone was already in the campground.  It’s a small enough campground that the few sites are pretty close together, so I opted to try to find another spot.  I drove around for a couple of hours, not finding any decent spot to pull off the road.  Finally I found a pull-off on a side road of a side road.  It was on a slope, but I was able to wiggle my car onto a flat spot and found another flat spot for my camping table.  Below the camp, the thickly timbered hillside sloped into an open meadow lined with aspen.  Poorwills and owls called intermittently through the night, as a light breeze whispered through the trees.  Coyotes calling in the meadow woke me up around 2 am:

The dawn chorus was very nice, especially for that late in the year.  The Douglas’ squirrels were also very active and chatty.  I grew up calling them “chickarees”, after their territorial call, chick – a – REEEE.  I haven’t posted any squirrel calls for awhile, so I thought I’d share some of the variety of calls that the squirrels were issuing that morning:

As I ate my breakfast that morning, I realized how my camping habits have changed.  I no longer seek out highly scenic areas, such as lakes or rivers.  Instead, I seek out areas that sound good without too much human-caused noise.  I often find myself just pulling off a road, out in the middle of an area with nothing that anyone would consider a scenic attraction.  If there is a trail nearby, that’s a huge bonus, but mostly I’m looking for interesting sounding areas to listen and record.

Quiet evening at the pond

Later in the day, I headed over to the campground that was occupied the day before.  To my luck, it was now empty, so I pulled in and set up camp.  It’s not hard to see why the campground is seldom used.  There are no “attractions.”  No lake, stream, or trailhead.  Just an open pine forest, with scattered Doug-firs, right next to a small volcanic escarpment.  But it’s great for the nature-watcher, though.  The volcanic bluff is loaded with squirrels: chipmunks, golden-mantled ground squirrels, and chickarees.  This time when we pulled in the rocks and logs had become a giant playground for baby chipmunks, and it was great fun to watch them chase each other over the rocks and logs.

There are a couple of small springs that issue from the bottom of the bluff.  The springs join into a tiny creek, which flows into a small retention pond.

I left a recorder with a couple of mics to run all night next to the pond.  I particularly enjoyed the sounds of the animals settling in for the night.  Listen for the kingfisher diving for a last meal of the day.

So far, all my trips to the Warners have been in July and August.  I hope to get up there earlier this year, and see what’s going on in May and June.