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Recovering from the Valley Fire: Project updates from Lucky Peak

Our long-term projects, like fall migration monitoring at Lucky Peak, usually track the slow shifts of bird populations over decades. But this year, dramatic changes prompted new questions at our monitoring stations. 

After the Valley Fire at Lucky Peak, we wondered: what will migration be like after the burn? 

Read on as our migration crew shares their firsthand observations from a field season unlike any other.

Rising from the Ashes: Songbird Research Resumes at Lucky Peak in 2025

By Songbird Bander Alex Trifunovic

Following the Valley Fire of last October, no one knew what this season at Lucky Peak would look like. The 2021-24 seasons before the fire had already been the slowest 4-year period in the history of our study…would we catch many birds? Braving the dusty conditions and summer heat, our five person songbird crew started the banding season in July with hopes to gather valuable data on how the fire impacted this important stopover site and the birds that pass on their journey south. 

a bleak burned hillside with small green sprouts beginning to grow
Lucky Peak in summer 2025 after the Valley Fire. Photo Credit: Heidi Ware Carlisle

Between July 16 and October 15, we banded 2,975 new birds and had 346 recaptures. Not surprisingly, it was another historically low year in terms of capture totals, with many of our “bread and butter” species captured in #s far below long-term averages. Species with especially low totals in 2025 included Dusky Flycatcher, MacGillivray’s Warbler, etc. The news wasn’t all bad, however. We banded notably high numbers of Lazuli Buntings and Chipping Sparrows, two species that typically do well in burned habitat! Some new additions to the Peak post-fire were a nest of Lewis’s Woodpeckers on the trail to the raptor blind, an energetic family of Rock Wrens in camp, and – starting later in September – numerous Black-backed Woodpeckers observed on the back side of the Peak! Additional songbird season highlights include Lark Sparrow, Canyon Wren, Northern Pygmy-Owl, American Redstart, a daytime capture of Northern Saw-whet Owl, three Western Bluebirds (caught at the raptor blind), and a second station record of Palm Warbler! 

Weather played a significant role in our ability to have nets open this fall. The newly exposed net lanes were more vulnerable to wind, and we had several strong storms pass through, including one that dropped five inches of rain in a day and washed out part of the road! 

Muddy dirt road with deep erosion on the left, marked by orange cones and tape.
The washed out road to Lucky Peak. Photo credit: Idaho Fish and Game

Temperatures were on average higher than usual with warm days well into the end of September, and the last week of the season saw snow and sleet!

The crew this year also undertook the challenge of the North American Banding Council certification, an intensive multiday test of bird banding knowledge and skill. All crew members passed with one at the Trainer level, three at the Bander level, and the rest at the Assistant level! Major thanks to our colleagues at UMBEL for traveling to help certify our team.

12 folks grouped together in front of a yurt at Lucky Peak banding station
Our crew after a successful NABC certification!

Thank you to everyone who helped support our crew this year, we couldn’t do it without you! See you all in 2026!

Hope Lives in the Eyes of a Hawk: From the Lucky trapping blind

By crew lead and camp co-manager Kateri Bilay

Last year I watched Lucky Peak burn. I remember watching from my driveway at home and seeing the glow of flames as they consumed the trees at the top of the Peak where we count migrating hawks, where I had been working just the day before. I didn’t know what to expect from another season at Lucky Peak but I knew I wanted to be a part of it. When I arrived at the Peak in mid-August to set up my tent I was astounded. The songbirders were in full swing and had a Rock Wren in their hands, a species I had never seen before at Lucky Peak. Arrowleaf Balsamroot and Rabbitbrush were everywhere. 

Things were different than I remember but still full of life, and there was still that special feeling you get when you make it to the top of Lucky Peak. The fire hadn’t burned the magic!

This year I had the privilege of apprenticing as a raptor trapper under the supervision of Rob Miller and Jay Carlisle. On my first walk out to the trapping blind I recalled the last time I had been at the blind, on the morning of the fire. I had volunteered to go retrieve the data and anything else I could grab. When I arrived, I could see the fire on the horizon and knew that the wind would blow it right over the trapping station. Everything was lost except what I could grab. 

A charred landscape of hills looking down toward the hawk trapping area where the trapping blind once stood.
View from Hawkwatch showing the charred landscape where the hawk trapping blind once stood. Photo Credit: Heidi Ware Carlisle

Arriving at the new trapping blind I was elated. A brand-new blind; more spacious and equipped with everything we would need. Everything was carefully thought out and hand-built with the help of a team of dedicated volunteers. I couldn’t wait to sit in the trapper’s seat and get to it.

New Raptor Blind. Wooden Rectangular Blind covered in camouflage and a few windows.
The new Lucky Peak blind photo credit: Jake Burroughs

One of the most memorable moments in the trapping blind happened within minutes of my second day trapping. A guest trapper by the name of Jake Burroughs was barely in the trapping seat when a bird darted up over the hill seemingly from nowhere and onto the pigeon. Jake was startled but the trapper reflexes went into action and he pulled the bownet closed over the bird. 

We ran out and I couldn’t believe my eyes. A Northern Harrier was staring back at us, an adult female at that. 

This was a bird I had not had the privilege of seeing in the hand, as in the past three years they had caught a total of three harriers across both trapping stations. Then something even more unexpected happened, I caught my first Northern Harrier later that same day! This was definitely an indication of what the rest of the season would look like as trappers continued to catch these beautiful owl-like hawks. 

Biologist in Raptor Blind holding a Northern Harrier. The Biologist stares at the bird with an ecstatic grin.
In the new blind banding the first Northern Harrier of the season Photo credit: Jake Burroughs

At the end of the season, we had trapped 12 Northern Harriers (two of which were gorgeous adult males, called Grey Ghosts by enthusiasts) and this had us tied for the third best year on record for Northern Harriers across 32 years of trapping. We also trapped above average numbers of Red-tailed Hawks including an absolutely gorgeous dark morph Red-tail that I was very excited to band and measure.

Biologist holding and spreading out a wing of a Dark Morph Red-tail Hawk.
Dark morph Red-tail Photo credit: Jay Carlisle

Unfortunately, all other species were well below the season average. Despite this, we saw many beautiful hawks, every one of which inspired me. 

It’s a privilege to look into the eyes of these beautiful raptors and see in every one of them the tenacity and ferocity to survive and push onwards despite an ever-changing world. 

I want to extend a special thank you to everyone who was a part of this season at Lucky. To all the volunteers who built the trapping station from the ground up, to all the trappers who shared their knowledge and love of birds, and to everyone who visited the Peak to witness the inspiration that is migration at Lucky Peak. 

That’s owl, folks!

By Ananke Krishnan and Sophie Barno

Hello from this fall’s owl banders, Ananke and Sophie! Following the fire at Lucky Peak last fall, we started this season having no idea what to expect. We were ready for long and slow nights, but also beyond excited to work with the charismatic, snappy Saw-whets and elusive Flammulated Owls (AKA “flams”)! Despite the relatively low numbers, we had surprisingly high species diversity and unforgettable moments!

Two flammulated owls being held next to each other for comparison.
Comparison of target species flammulated owl (left) and Northern saw-whet owl (right). Photo credit: Ananke Krishnan.

The season started off slow, with mostly bats and the occasional flying squirrel wreaking havoc on our nets (we quickly became experts at patching up trammel lines). We caught one Northern Saw-whet Owl on opening night, and the following nights were quite similar, with one to two or occasionally none at all.

The flams had relatively low numbers this year, 36 total as opposed to the average 55. We caught them up until Oct 4, when we caught three adult birds in one night, and then they vanished just as quickly as they came. Still, each bird was a delight to process and a trove of information – IBO, being one of the only owl migration stations that targets flams, has been working hard to learn more about determining the ageing criteria for these elusive and mysterious birds. Over the course of the season, we caught four flams that we could definitively call at least one year old based on the presence of different feather generations, also known as molt limits.

A Biologist holding a older flammulated owl. One wing is spread out from the top to view the feather generations.
An older flammulated owl, age determined by the presence of at least two feather generations. Older feathers are indicated by the red lines. Photo credit: Kateri Bilay.

The Saw-whets peaked the week of Oct 12th. We hit 200 owls banded on Oct 14th, and a mere four days later banded our 300th owl of the season! This was exciting given our numbers earlier in the season, which made us skeptical whether we would make it to 200. 

A biologist holding a Northern Saw-whel Owl while someone holds a yellow sign above the owl that reads "300!!!"
Our 300th owl banded, a second year unknown sex Northern Saw-whet Owl. Photo Credit: Kateri Bilay

And of course, we had our unexpected, but very welcome, visitors. The first was a Western Screech-owl, caught on the dawn net run early in the season. Our second appeared on a night when we were alternating net checks in an attempt to try to squeeze in some sleep. As I was dozing off, I heard the buzz of the radio, and then Sophie’s frantic message: “Ananke, come to C1 right now!”

Still half asleep, I stumbled over to said net to find Sophie holding a giant bird – a Barred Owl, the first ever caught at Lucky Peak! Barred Owls are originally an eastern species, but have expanded their range across southern Canada and into the Pacific Northwest and California. Sightings in the Boise area are infrequent, mostly in winter, and have mostly centered around the Boise River corridor – never on the Boise Ridge – so this was one of the last owls we expected to find in our nets.

We woke up the hawkwatch crew, Lauren and Syd, as neither of the owl crew had banded such a large bird before. With their help, we were able to band and process this beautiful, patient bird, determining it was at least a year old based on different feather generations!

A large Barred Owl being held by a biologist in the dark
The first ever Barred Owl captured at Lucky Peak. Photo credit: Ananke Krishnan.

Our third unexpected capture happened on October 21st. As I was approaching our ridge site, I noticed an abnormal amount of movement in one of the nets, and sprinted over to find none other than a Great Horned Owl lying in the mist-net! Because of their size, these owls often either just bounce off or fly straight through the nets, so this was a pretty spectacular catch! Once again, we woke everyone up at 3AM to process and release this incredible bird.

A large Great Horned Owl being held by a biologist in the dark.
Great Horned Owl, banded and processed. Photo credit: Lauren Stanfa
A Biologist holding a Great Horned Owl. One wing is spread out from the top to view the feather generations.
Different feather generations visible in the wing of the Great Horned Owl, suggesting this bird was at least two years old. Photo credit : Sophie Barno

On slow nights, we passed the time embroidering by headlamp, playing endless rounds of gin rummy, and huddling by the stove to stay warm. It took a few weeks to truly switch into a nocturnal schedule, but it was such an incredible experience witnessing the forest at night, navigating under moonlight and closing nets to a truly spectacular sunrise every morning! The opportunity to work with these fierce little birds and watch their resilience and persistence in the face of significant habitat loss made it all worth it. We’ll forever be grateful for the people and owls that made this season so special!

A Northern Saw-whet Owl being held in red light in the palms of a biologists hands.
A Northern saw-whet owl banded, processed and ready for release. Photo Credit: Anake Krishnan
Two female biologist hold owls in their hands. They may be in the dark the the smiles are bright.
The owl crew – Sophie Barno (left) and Ananke Krishnan (right). Photo credit: Kateri Bilay.

This article is part of our 2025 end of the year newsletter! View the full newsletter here, or click “older posts” below to read the next article. Make sure you don’t miss out on IBO news! Sign up to get our email updates.