Blane Klemek: Gray jays are a wonderful part of the Northland

At this writing, the forecast calls for rain and snow. Going into November and December the outlook for any substantial amounts of snow is minimal at best. And while the landscape looks a lot like any other late October-early November, conditions appear to be constantly changing from one year to the next. El Nino, or perhaps a “Super” El Nino is predicted to cause this winter to have overall below normal snowfall events and overall above normal temperatures - not good for snow lovers.
I spent the last couple of weeks in the Colorado Rocky Mountains. There, too, the weather was unseasonably mild - even at elevations of up to 10,000 feet above sea level. In fact, there were days that the weather was almost too warm, especially for rigorous hikes weighted down with packs and bulky clothing. Least chipmunks were active everywhere my legs carried me - be it the south facing sage-covered slopes or the north facing green-timbered slopes. I even heard male American robins singing as if it was springtime once again. Regardless of what our winter will eventually become, most critters of the fields and forests are out there doing what they always do; that is, preparing for the long winter ahead.
A constant friend of the forest that I can rely on seeing each and every year - especially when I spend time in the Rocky Mountains or the Boundary Water Canoe Area Wilderness - are the numerous gray jays that seem to follow me around or show up at our campsites looking for handouts.
 I associate these birds with the conifers of northern forests, including Northern Minnesota of course, and indeed that is the preferred habitat and location of these highly interesting birds.
Gray jays, or sometimes-called Canada jays of old-time ornithology, are related to blue jays, crows and ravens and belong to the avian family Corvidae. About 9½ to 12½ inches in length, European trappers and loggers have also called the gray jay Whisky Jack and Camp Robber. To Native Americans, the bird was called Wis-ka-tjon. A bold and curious bird, the gray jay was well known in forest encampments as a thief; stealing food, tobacco, and other small objects whenever it could. The bird would even enter tents to explore and steal.
I’ve had many encounters with gray jays in similar circumstances before. In fact, during my last trip to Colorado while quartering out my mule deer, I was visited almost immediately by not only a few gray jays, but a related species as well - a lone, bold, and noisy Clark’s nutcracker. I was fascinated to watch these two species of birds take turns picking at the carcass. In the case of those two particular birds, the nutcracker was the dominant bird; the gray jay always moved off of the carcass when the nutcracker made its return trips.
A gray bird with a dark nape, white throat, and white forehead, few other birds resemble the gray jay. The Clark’s nutcracker of western America and the two species of shrikes are the only birds that I can think of that come close. Juvenile gray jays are a darker slate color all over and lack the white throat and forehead and lighter underparts of the adults.
Among its corvid relatives, however, there is something quite unique about the bird’s anatomy and habits. The gray jay possesses special mucus-secreting glands on the sides of their beak that produces a sticky, saliva-like substance that is used to “glue” foodstuffs together. This enables the bird to clump food together, like berries, nuts, insects, and other foods, and stick the bonded morsels onto branches, under tree-bark crevices, inside tree cavities, and the like. Their habit of caching food is instinctive, which helps the bird survive harsh winters. During lean times the bird can return to its many caches and feast on its globular creations.  
Gray jays range throughout most of Alaska and Canada, through the Rockies and northern United States, including northern Minnesota. They tend to be permanent residents within their range, but do on years of short food supplies migrate to southern locales in periodic irruptions. Three years ago several gray jays spent the winter at the Sanctuary, apparently finding plenty to eat throughout their stay.
The birds nest while snow is still on the ground, usually in March, in stick nests that they build and line with feathers, fur, and plant down for warmth. Three to four eggs are laid and incubated by the female. Both parents take part in raising and feeding a hungry and demanding brood, which, once fledged, remain together as a family group.
The gray jay is a wonderful part of the Northland. The bird will glide silently from one perch to the next searching the ground below for anything interesting to eat. Gray jays will (if they spot us) come for a closer look at us and, once satisfied, fly off calling and whistling softly to one another as they move on. And if we provide these delightful jays some food they may even land next to us, or, better still, on us as we get out and enjoy the great outdoors.
Blane Klemek is a Minnesota DNR wildlife manager. He can be reached at bklemek@yahoo.com .