Pajareo sin fronteras

It's safe to say that there are few places in the United States stranger than the Salton Sea- which is impressive considering we're a country that specializes in weirdness in many ways (see: NASCAR, the US Constitution, the entire state of Utah). It lies in the incredibly hot, dry and dusty Imperial Valley, and was just as dry as the rest of the valley until 1905, when some meathead dug an irrigation canal from the Colorado River too deep and created a huge artificial lake. Though the "sea" is progressively shrinking, it's still one of the main centers of winter agriculture in the United States, and its shores are covered in farmland.  The night I spent by the Salton Sea was no less strange than the general area. As it turns out the most affordable place to stay in the area was in Slab City, a former military camp that's been turned into an RV camp and off-the-grid quasi-anarchist commune. My lodging was a tiny barn in the back lot of a compound of makesh...

It may just be me, but it seems as if the bird bloggers I follow are more productive than usual... hopefully because they're all self-quarantining in their own homes like good members of society. I'm no exception- currently sheltering in Michigan after the situation in Washington DC seemed like it was only going to get worse in the near term, and the middle of the north woods seemed like a safer bet. The weather is colder of course, but I can walk for miles outside without encountering another soul, and take birding breaks since everything in my life is now being carried out online. Of course, the other upside is more time to work on my birding blogs, which is good considering I'm still grievously behind.  I spent my  first two days  in SoCal in the Los Angeles area, exploring various city parks and getting some easy Western US specialties (and some of the harder ones too). The plan for the next days was to head eastwards over the Coast Range to the Salton Sea, where...