What Happens in Vegas stays …on eBird.

With a look of bewilderment, a friend asked, “Who would go to Vegas to see birds?” Answering her own rhetorical question, “Only Jack.” The look on her face underscored what I knew was in her mind, “Jack, the birder, is weird.” Being normal is something the passionate birder must sometimes sacrifice.

I would be heading to Las Vegas the following week to attend a conference for one of our clients for whom I had consulted on various elements of a wellness space they were hosting at the company-wide leadership gathering. I would meet, greet, observe the wellness area, and try to be helpful wherever I could.  The conference would conclude on a Wednesday night, and I was not flying home the next morning.

I had plans for Vegas.

The Entertainment Capital of the World offers endless attractions, but neon lights held little appeal for me—though I admit the glowing pink Flamingo on the Las Vegas Strip caught my attention. Knowing I could throw away money anywhere, gambling wasn’t in my plans, but a Gambel’s Quail certainly was. I would notice the Sphere in all her technological glory, but it would pale in comparison to the snow-capped red sandstone peaks rising above the Mojave Desert. I wasn’t searching for New Kids on the Block; I wanted new birds on the life list. I didn’t want to hear The Back Street Boys, but the call of a Ladder-back Woodpecker. Cirque du Soleil is certainly spectacular but watching a Long-billed Dowitcher foraging in the shadow of a dainty and elegant American Avocet would provide unparalleled delight. Straying off the straight and narrow in Sin City wasn’t on my agenda. No, no, no. Something else was calling—birds, birds that I had never seen before.

Having never birded in Nevada, I was eager to add to my birding life list. Before heading westward I researched the birds of Clark County, home to Vegas, and created a list of forty-one possible new birds for my Georgia eyes and ears to see and hear in and around the city and surrounding desert. Realistically, I knew that seeing half of those new-to-me birds would be a stretch goal. Perhaps, fifteen would be more realistic. I settled for eleven.   

Even so, Vegas birding did not disappoint. I surpassed my total species goal of seventy by recording over eighty birds. Careful planning led me to key eBird hotspots and a remarkable range of habitats—from the rugged beauty of Red Rock Canyon to the open waters of Lake Mead. Still, I made one notable mistake: I researched where birds were abundant rather than where specific target species could be found. I assumed my travels would naturally intersect with habitats suited for birds like the Cactus Wren and Crissal Thrasher. Next time, I will study habitats as carefully as hotspots

Kudos belong to the Henderson Bird Viewing Preserve and the Clark County Wetlands Park, both of which offered exceptional birding. Yet the highlight of the trip almost never happened.

I had planned to visit Red Rock Canyon on Friday morning, but when a Thursday research interview scheduled for my book unexpectedly fell through, I picked up my rental car and drove straight to the canyon. The morning was flawlessly beautiful—clear blue skies stretching over dramatic mountain ridges. I wandered a trail near the Visitor Center for nearly two hours. Bird activity was light, though a pair of Loggerhead Shrikes posed together as if auditioning for a photographer’s portfolio.

Back at the Visitor Center, a hiker mentioned clouds moving in. I hadn’t noticed.

I should have.

Driving the thirteen-mile Red Rock Canyon Scenic Drive, I stopped periodically, recording only a single bird—a Ladder-backed Woodpecker that had become a lifer just two days earlier. Meanwhile, winds strengthened, clouds thickened, and a light snow began to fall. By the time I reached the Willow Springs hotspot, snowfall had intensified. I pulled an extra layer from my suitcase, added a rain jacket over my sweatshirt, and set off up the trail.

Within minutes, I found myself walking through a desert winter wonderland.

Birds were sparse, yet every sighting was beautiful and felt magnified by the falling snow. Only even species appeared, but two were lifers: Woodhouse’s Scrub-Jay and Townsend’s Solitaire. Western Bluebirds and Dark-eyed Juncos seemed even more brilliant against the white landscape, their colors both softened and elevated by the storm. It was a glorious morning.

There is more to report, but it will suffice to say…

I went to Vegas.

I was entertained.

The memories remain.

What happens in Vegas, stays—on eBird.