Written by Katherine Kellogg
A springtime search for new life at Modoc National Wildlife Refuge
In the high desert wetlands of northeastern California, spring brings more than melting snow and returning birds. It brings the chance to glimpse one of the season’s smallest wonders: a newly hatched Greater Sandhill Crane colt, all orange fluff, oversized legs, and determination. This is the story of a search that began with binoculars and patience—and ended with Alphie, Beta, and the unforgettable Hollywood family.
Setting Out for the Search
Searching for Greater Sandhill Crane pairs during breeding season is a bit like looking for Waldo in one of Martin Handford’s “Where’s Waldo?” books. Greater Sandhill Cranes are special within the Pacific Flyway because they both nest and overwinter in California. I had often seen them in fall and winter at the Lodi Woodbridge Ecological Reserve, mixed among their Lesser Sandhill Crane cousins from far north of Alaska. This time, though, I had set out for Modoc County and the Modoc National Wildlife Refuge (MNWR) in hopes of seeing Greater Sandhill Cranes with their babies.
About the Refuge and Cranes
MNWR is operated by the US Fish & Wildlife Service and is staffed by the refuge manager (Stacy Freitas), biologist (Marsha Barnes), Michael Hinton, who handles the visitor desk, and keeps the bird feeders full, among other jobs. Additionally, other employees work here, keeping tabs on the cranes and maintaining the refuge habitat. MNWR is one of many northern refuges and locations where breeding Greater Sandhill cranes can be spotted. Located southeast of Alturas, MNWR covers 7,021 acres of marshy flat land—ideal habitat for Greater Sandhill Cranes, a large bird that stands about 5 feet tall and has a 7-foot wingspan. The refuge sits on the western edge of the Great Basin, a high desert ecosystem that can be cold and snow-covered in winter. By spring and summer, it becomes a rich mosaic of wetlands, riparian corridors, sagebrush-steppe, alfalfa, and grain croplands.
First Arrival and First Colt
As I slowly pull onto the refuge, wetlands stretch out on both sides of the road, edged with tall grasses, sedge, and sagebrush among shallow pools of water. Snowmelt from the nearby Warner Mountains feeds this landscape, flowing down into the Pitt River and onto the refuge.
Just over the rise, I spot them! An adult banded Greater Sandhill Crane is probing the dirt and mud of a small island topped with a tuft of tall grass. Then I freeze. Did I just see a small ball of orange fluff rise, wobble across the island, and plop down again beside the long legs of the adult crane? I lift my binoculars for another look—and yes, there it is: a newly hatched baby crane, known as a colt.
I am thrilled. Because this is the first crane colt I have ever seen, I quickly name it “Alphie.” He is only about 6 inches tall and can manage just three or four wobbly steps before tiring and plopping down again. Newly hatched colts weigh only a few ounces, and Alphie looks charmingly top-heavy, his fluffy body balanced on long, oversized legs.
Those long legs matter. Colts leave their nests within a day after hatching, so they must be ready to step out of a bulky nest and through tall grass almost immediately. I watched as the parent fed Alphie small bugs it had dug up and demonstrated how to use its big, sharp beak for foraging. Satisfied with this first sighting, I turned back toward camp, already looking forward to checking in on the family the next morning.
Alphie, a newly hatched Greater Sandhill Crane colt, takes some of his first wobbly steps near the nest at Modoc National Wildlife Refuge while a watchful parent forages nearby. Within a day of hatching, crane colts are already walking, swimming, and learning how to search for food.
Checking back on the Hollywood Family
The next morning, I arrived early to meet with Marsha, the refuge biologist, and learn more about the 40 pairs of Greater Sandhill Cranes currently nesting on the refuge. The cranes begin arriving in February, and by May or early June, most have built nests and laid two eggs. Sometimes those nests are lost to melting snow water or predators such as coyotes and large birds of prey. Both parents—the male (roan) and the female (mare)—help build the nest and sit on the eggs. After about a month, the babies hatch. Year after year, many pairs return to the same nesting area to raise their young. I learned that the banded Hollywood parent was born on the refuge in 2007 near the railroad tracts that run through the refuge. However, this crane and its mate have decided that in the first pond, right up front, was a better location to raise their little family.
After my visit with Marsha, it was time to check back in with Alphie and his parents. As I pulled up to the pond where I had found them the day before, I saw Alphie out with the non-banded parent. Marsha had told me that this pair is known as the “Hollywood” couple because their nest sits so close to the refuge entrance, in full view of passing visitors.
Today, Alphie’s unbanded parent leads him across shallow water to a bank closer to the road. I am struck by how much stronger he already looks. His legs seem taller and steadier, and he does not need to plop down as often as he did yesterday. Crane colts are capable of both walking and swimming within a day of hatching, but seeing that progress happen so quickly is still astonishing.
He is also digging more with his short little beak and keeping up better with his parent. Watching him try to mimic the adult’s movements is impossibly sweet.
While I sat marveling at Alphie’s fast progress, I glanced back toward the nest. What was this? A second chick appeared, emerging with the banded parent. Alphie had a sibling! I named this one Beta. Like Alphie the day before, Beta was wobbly and working hard to keep up. Now each parent had a colt of its own to watch over.
Near the Hollywood pair’s nest, a second colt—later named Beta—emerges beside the banded parent. Greater Sandhill Crane nests are built in wetland vegetation, and both parents help protect the eggs and guide the newly hatched colts as they leave the nest within the first day of hatching.
Little Beta was also led across the water, though it was deeper for her. She struggled, even swimming a short distance before reaching the other side. The parent led her to a muddy area for foraging, where she tired quickly, plopped down, and then fought to stand again with her chest heavily coated in mud. How lucky I felt to find two tiny colts and their attentive parents so easily. After watching for quite some time, I decided to search for more Greater Sandhill Crane pairs with chicks. I said goodbye to the Hollywoods and promised to return later that afternoon.
During the rest of the morning and early afternoon, I located ten pairs of cranes on the refuge. Only one other pair had a colt, and that youngster was much taller and older than the Hollywood colts, blending into the tall, brown, dry grass. It had been a wonderful day. Before heading back, I drove past the Hollywood home island to see how the family was doing. To my disappointment, they weren’t home. Where had they gone? Little did I know that crane parents may forage with their colts up to a mile from the nest. I scanned the pond edges and nearby grassy knolls, but there was no sign of the little family. Knowing how protective Sandhill Crane parents can be, with their spear-like beaks and talons, I was not worried about the colts’ safety. Still, I pulled away slowly, just in case one of them might step out to say goodnight.
Final Morning and Looking Ahead
On my last day at the refuge, I was eager to see whether the Hollywood family had returned closer to their nest. As I approached the familiar pond and nesting island, I was again disappointed to find no one home. I lifted my binoculars and began searching the neighborhood. To my surprise, the family was still within sight of the road, this time farther back near a larger grass island. The parents and colts all looked well. Even little Beta seemed taller and stronger. Everyone was foraging and sharing what they found.
The colts will grow quickly between 10 and 30 days of age. Once their ankles are large enough to hold bands securely, they will receive a silver federal band and a couple of colored bands, including one with an ID number so they can be found again on their wintering grounds.
By two to three months old, the colts will be considered juveniles. Their orange, sandy feathers will give way to larger gray plumage, and by the end of August, they will be nearly full-grown, almost as tall as Mom and Dad. Their little red caps will begin to emerge, and the family will prepare for the journey south. The parents will show the young cranes the migration route toward the Lodi/Sacramento area, traveling along the Sierra Nevada into the Sacramento Valley, then on to the Delta and the fields around Lodi.
I was grateful to see them one final time before heading home and to wish them well on the journey ahead. As I prepared to leave the refuge, I quietly called out, “See you Hollywoods in September in Lodi!”
Stop By Sometime
The Hollywood family and many others will be hanging out in the northeast corner of California and the southeast corner of Oregon for the remainder of the summer. If you are interested in seeing these little ones for yourself, I have included their address at the Modoc National Wildlife Refuge in Alturas, (5364 CoRd 115, Alturas, CA). Remember, they won’t be this little for very long. In just 2 ½ months, the colts will be the same grey color and height as their parents. Note: When viewing cranes, it is best to do so from the camouflage of your car, not on foot. Bring a pair of good binoculars or a spotting scope and a camera that takes good photos from a distance.
