It’s an early spring morning, pre-dawn. The air is still, not a breath of wind stirs the sagebrush. The waning moon is a bright sliver in the eastern sky, but soon to be obscured by the dawn’s early light. The thermometer reads 25 degrees Fahrenheit but it feels colder in the morning darkness. I’ve been up since 4:45 a.m. when my alarm rudely woke me up. An hour later, I’m standing along a muddy two-track road below the rim of the Oregan Canyon Mountains listening for the classic “swish, whistle, swish, ka kuw” sounds of a male greater sage-grouse as he struts on a nearby lek (better known as the grouse’s breeding ground).
As the morning light grows, I see other males rehearsing this ancient ritual, sort of a dance, that proclaims their fitness to a small group of female grouse, or hens, waiting to select the dominant suitor.
The males rapidly inflate and deflate air sacs located on their necks, the resulting noise sounds like a symphony of champagne bottles popping open. The golden-looking air sacs inflate with about a gallon of air to about 50 times their normal size before being expelled. These “pops” or “plops” are combined with choreographed moves and tail feathers fanned, all part of an elaborate display.
I’m out here at this lek as part of the Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife’s Adopt-a-Lek program, a volunteer-based program that started in 2005. The idea was to use volunteers to survey leks in Malheur County to assist federal and state agencies with data collection and to contribute to the overall effort to count sage-grouse during a 45-day period in spring. That is, when road access is good enough.
“In the fall, the rain falls on the road and evaporates but during the spring, the water comes up from the bottom,” said Dan Herrig, the first coordinator for the AAL program.
“I didn’t instigate the idea for the volunteers, but I did all the legwork and put together all the guidelines,” said Herrig. “The idea came from the Adopt-a-Lek program in Montana started by Ben Deeble, sage-grouse coordinator for the National Wildlife Federation in 1998.”
Oregon followed suit in 2005 when Herrig retired from his ODFW fisheries management position. “The goal was to get counts beyond what the department staff could do,” he added. Herrig collated lek data from the 1950s to then present day, and added additional sites as he conducted field work in the spring of 2005.
Now in its 20th year, the Adopt-a-Lek program has over 40 volunteers who brave weather and road conditions to record the number of male and female grouse observed at a particular lek. With over 120 sites scattered across several PACs (Priority Areas of Conservation), the program runs from March 15 to April 30 and still has a sole volunteer coordinator – me.
Volunteers hail mainly from Oregon and Idaho; Boise, Portland, Bend, Eugene, and Burns, while several volunteers come from Salem, Caldwell, Scio and Vancouver, Washington. Many are sportsmen, hunters and anglers who value contributing time and experience to the conservation of this iconic sagebrush species. Some come from a birdwatcher background, one is a bike-packer. No matter where anyone comes from, it’s a long haul out to southeastern Oregon.
The Adopt-a-Lek program attempts to survey each of its 120 sites three times a season, during count periods that last roughly 15 days, a huge goal that often is cut short by weather and road access. Muddy roads are the norm in the beginning of the season, though an April shower may turn a dry, dirt road into a tire-sucking quagmire. Intermittent snow squalls, howling winds, flooding creeks, locked gates, or double flat-tire days are not out of the question.
Many volunteers haul trailers or camp in their pickups. A few pitch a tent which either ends up fine or as a UFO. The little towns of Jordan Valley, Juntura, Fields, and McDermitt offer some amenities and sometimes a surprising beer selection.
Most working volunteers go out for a weekend, while those of us on the “retired side” prefer the weekdays and spend longer than a couple of days.
Though the conditions challenge anyone’s version of a good time, dedicated volunteers repeat this annual ritual year after year. Time has a way of warming up memories of cold days, and sliding along a remote, muddy road makes for the best stories.
“That first year I went out and spent the whole summer driving to leks in some of the most neat and remote spots,” said Herrig. “And, I just loved it.”
For the grouse, all is not rosy. Population numbers have declined steadily over the past 50 years. Occasionally, as in 2024 small increases give hope for their longevity. Habitat loss is their biggest hurdle, whether it’s from wildland fire enhanced by noxious weeds, mining exploration in McDermitt, or bankruptcy of the grass and forb seed bank. Sage-grouse have been denied status as a protected species under the Endangered Species Act in an effort to give more local control to their survival. Yet, as the years pass and the numbers continue to tumble, this iconic species of the sagebrush wildlands deserves more support.
This article appears in Source Weekly April 24, 2025.
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