Day 1

Near the end of the afternoon, it was time to head back to camp with a couple of blood samples we'd taken on a female crossbill, the only crossbill of the day so far. I piled the cooler into my car and took off on the 30 minute drive at the foot of the magnificent Teton range, to camp. I got to camp, fired up the generator, started spinning down the blood in our tiny field centrifuge, when I got a text from Jamie: "Birds around. Might get one." That meant there was a crossbill hopping around near the net. I hurriedly finished processing the blood and had just hopped back in my truck when I got another text:

"Got him"

I charged back to the netting site, chafing furiously when I got penned behind a biker gang that was moseying past the Tetons at 30mph. I can't really blame them - it is, indeed, perhaps the most beautiful drive in North America - but I was vibrating with the need to get back to the netting site and get that radio on that bird.

I finally pulled in, 45 minutes after Jamie'd caught the bird, screeched my car to a halt and sprang out, took 30 seconds to calm myself down, and then fished the bird out of the little cloth "bird bag" he'd been sitting in.

I braced my elbows on the truck tailgate and held the bird in my left hand, belly down, his head cradled between my index and middle fingers. I spread his wings gently out of the way, took a firm grip on his primary feathers to make sure he didn't flutter his wings just at the wrong time, and Jamie bent close to put the tiny copper wires in place.

Five minutes later Jamie got the transmitter fully glued on, and instantly the "WOOOOOO..." of the transmitter, that we'd been hearing in the radio receiver, began to wobble like a fast siren: "WEEOO-EEOO-EEOO-EEOO..."

"That's his heart rate!! That's heart rate! It's working!" I was sure it was his heart rate. We both grinned hugely at each other. The radio was working!

And then we realized we had better be ready to track! I held the bird a few minutes longer, to give Jamie time to get her backpack ready and change into her hiking shoes, strap on all her radio gear and get hold of the portable antenna that she'd be carrying.

As soon as she was ready, I opened my hand. The crossbill flew straight as an arrow to a tree just outside the fence of our netting site. Jamie raced to the gate, to follow him around the fence, and I flew into action packing everything up.

Jamie's job: Follow That Bird.

My job: pack up all the netting gear, the live birds, drive back to the campsite, set the live birds up so they would be okay for three days on their own, process the new blood sample and get it into the freezer, and then race back to the last place I'd seen Jamie. Jamie was going to leave flagging tape on the trees for me, like a trail of bread crumbs, to help me find her.

Netting poles in the car, nets in the car, net buckets in the car. Pack up all the banding gear. Blood sample in its little container, in the little cooler, in the big cooler. Live birds, in their cage, carefully into the back of my car. Drive Jamie's truck outside the fence. Run back inside, get my own car, drive all the way back to camp.

Arrive at camp. Birds first: Fresh water, lots of food, more extra water, more extra food, some pine nuts for good luck, and a fresh change of paper.

Haul the generator outside, power it up; run the centrifuge, spin the blood, pipet the samples, write out the tiny little labels, label everything, write down the hematocrits, toss them in the freezer.

Power down the generator, haul it back inside.

Take a minute to be sure I've got everything: Sleeping bag, sleeping pad, change of socks and underwear, as many water bottles as I can carry, three days' worth of trail mix and food; binoculars, radio receiver, antenna, MP3 recorder (to record the heart rate), headphones. iPhone (my GPS), two-way radio, emergency whistle. Bear bell. Tons of extra batteries.

Race back to Jamie. It was almost night by the time arrived. I'd been worried I wouldn't be able to find her flagging tape in the dark, but I found her all of ten feet from where I'd left her - and she'd dutifully tied a piece of flagging tape where she'd started, and another one ten feet away where she was standing now. "Gee, good thing you put that flagging tape up, or I'd never have found you," I said, and she said "He hasn't moved at all! He's still in the same tree - I think he's roosted for the night." After some conferral we decided she'd camp right under his tree, and I'd sleep in my car on the other side of the fence - in case he flew over the fence suddenly.

We were both almost too excited to sleep. Jamie set up her sleeping bag right under the tree while I inched my car down a steep stony slope, trying to get it in the best place to keep tabs on the bird (I was not at all sure I could get the car back up again). The mosquitoes were horrific, but ever since Toolik that hasn't bothered me. I curled up in the back seat of the car with all my equipment piled next to me, ready to go in the morning.

Night fell, gradually, slowly, and the stars emerged. Nighthawks were calling overhead.

I heard a man singing bear songs nearby: "Don't come NEAR me, don't come NEAR me, don't come NEAR me, Mister Bear! I've got a BEER, got a BEER, but you can't HAVE it, Mister Bear! " (Bears are much less likely to attack if they hear you coming and don't get surprised, so hikers in bear country usually either sing songs when they're on their own, or wear bear bells.)

The bear man went away. Hours passed. I was way too wound up to sleep. Around midnight I saw a mysterious light floating through the woods - headed straight for Jamie. It was somebody walking with a flashlight! Either that or bears have discovered batteries. What on earth was somebody doing out in the woods at midnight in bear country on an unmarked trail? I watched as the light silently bobbed closer, and closer, and closer... ready to spring out of the car if they caused any trouble with Jamie... but they went right past Jamie; they hadn't seen her. (the next day Jamie told me it was two people, dead silent. Guess we'll never know what that was about.)

Finally, around 2am the temperature started to drop, and I curled in my sleeping bag and fell asleep.