Mixing many people and many sandhills: A remarkable season builds at Jasper-Pulaski FWA

MEDARYVILLE, Ind.—In the rear-view mirror, I saw Laura Case pull off unexpectedly. She had good reason. Her father, Neil, 89, had spotted whooping cranes flying among the multiple skeins of sandhill cranes spiraling northwest of Jasper-Pulaski Fish and Wildlife Area. After she parked, she confirmed two whoopers with her binoculars.

Of all the falls I’ve made annual treks, usually with John Vukmirovich, to see the cranes at J-P, I’ve never seen any whoopers mixed in.

Of course somebody like Neil Case would see them.

In November of 1965, when Laura was a toddler, Neil was hired as assistant manager at J-P. The next day, he went to see what other workers said was an immature bald eagle scavenging a deer carcass. Neil identified it was a golden eagle, confirmed a few days later by an ornithologist.

“After that, I was a made man,” Neil said last Saturday evening.

I interviewed him through an ajar door in his daughter’s Forester. He sported a Navy hat (active and reserves) and he read Hal Borland’s “Our Natural World” between watching the cranes at J-P.

“Sometimes I tease Dad that the only reason we came to Indiana was for the cranes,” said Laura, who has remained my wife’s best friend since their college days.

We met at J-P as a way to socialize during the pandemic. The pandemic is why Vukmirovich and I passed on our annual sandhill trek. We normally spend six to eight hours together in the car wandering near J-P on our treks to see the cranes and other nearby points of interest.

Dale Bowman

People and cranes abound this fall. I suspect the influx of sandhills in high numbers and the pressure of pandemic combined to draw the largest crowd I’ve ever encountered around the viewing tower.

On Nov. 24, staff counted 25,092 cranes in the weekly count. J-P property manager Nick Echterling emailed that was the 11th highest all-time count. The all-time high was 34,629 in 2002. The seasonal high count usually comes around Thanksgiving or early December and averages around 22,000.

This year, the peak keeps building. On Tuesday, the count was 30,701 cranes, third highest all-time by Echterling’s records.

“I had never seen a sandhill before I came here,” said Neil Case, who would go on to became the first property manger at Salamonie Lake, retiring after 23 years in 1991.

He and his late wife Mona would volunteer at 16 National Wildlife Refuges, including the ones in Texas noted for cranes. He made all 50 states in his retirement, his wife reached 47.

Neil pointed out that originally the expansive field west of the tower was not for sandhills but for the restoration of Canada geese.

Dale Bowman

In the parking lot, Indiana license plates barely edged Illinois ones with a few Ohio and Michigan plates sprinkled in and one rogue Florida plate (Snowbird headed south? Rental?).

I only saw one person without a mask at the viewing tower. Neil had noticed, too.

“Birdwatchers are pretty conscientious,” he said. “Walk up to the tower and you never see any litter.”

On a perfectly clear evening, cranes flew until the light died. Then my wife, Laura and I watched thousands of cranes spiraling up in back to head toward the marsh.

It was time.

It’s a splendid time to see cranes in late afternoon to evening at J-P. More information is at in.gov/dnr/fishwild/3109.htm.

Dale Bowman