As a Wyoming Department of Game and Fish official points out in a recent Capser Star-Tribune article, much of the elaborate physical display of the male sage-grouse (what is usually referred to as "strutting") is actually about generating the sound. According to the article, researchers from the University of California-Davis are studying the accoustics of sage-grouse courtship at various lekking grounds in Wyoming. There are previous studies that established that the amplitude of the sounds a male sage-grouse makes is an important factor in mate selection. In fact, some of the "dancing" movements of the males are apparently attempts to focus their sounds in certain directions (i.e towards particular females) and at certain amplitudes (incidentally, one of the ways that Gunnison sage-grouse are distinguished from greater sage-grouse is their different pattern of vocalizations).

All dumb jokes aside about how the right sweet nothings whispered at the right time make all the difference in sage-grouse courtship, this also means that writers attempting to capture the look and feel of a sage-grouse lek site are often left trying to convey some sense of the sounds the males make. Some of those sounds can be powerful and complex. The booming noises males make with their air sacs can be heard a mile away. As the Star-Tribune story points out, the stage upon which the male performs also is also likely a significant influence on the sound quality:

“Environmental acoustics – the soil type and topography of the lek itself – probably play a significant role, too.”

This hints at some reasons why lek sites are so important to protect if we want to conserve this highly imperiled species. As the Star-Tribune story also points out, it may also provide a clue as to why sage-grouse are particularly sensitive to disturbance at these mating sites:

“How the sound carries at a particular site may be a big reason why the birds return to the same lek year after year – or possibly why they abandon a lek if a noisy road or energy development pops up nearby.”

So if the sound of a courting sage-grouse is important, how do those who write about sage-grouse try to capture it?

Well, most don’t. I wouldn’t either, if I could avoid it. The most common sidestep is to refer to it as “booming” (exactly as I did a few paragraphs earlier) or “popping.” A few have even gone so far as to nickname the birds “thunder cluckers.” In general, there is a fine tradition of valiant attempts to characterize the sound of a sage-grouse, often with humorous results:

“a bubbly popping noise…”

“a sort of drawn-out burbling that sounds uncannily like someone gulping underwater…”

“swishing sounds, hoots, and pops. Both sexes makes clucking and cackling noises…”

“when flushed, [sage-grouse make] a course ‘wut’ or ‘kak, kak, kak” call. Males also coo and make popping vocalizations by expelling air through esophageal pouches during courtship…”

This last description is not the most technical out there. That prize has to go to one of the authors of the above-mentioned acoustical studies, who noted that the “explosive use of dual anterior air sacs is unique to the Centrocercus grouse strut display.”

For those brave enough to try to actually spell the sound of a sage-grouse, the results can be wonderful fun. As one author noted dryly after attempting it himself, “it’s a sound not easily put into words.” Among my favorites from articles around the Web:

“Glumph… Glumph… Glumph…”

“Ba-loomp… Ba-loomp… Ba-loomp…”

And my all time favorite: “swish-swish-coo-oopoink!”

As for me, I hope to hear the, er, booming of the sage-grouse myself this spring, but I think I’ll refrain from trying to describe the sound to you.

If you want to hear and see sage-grouse dancing for yourself, try these videos and sound clips (and another).

By the way, given our heavy snowfall this winter, the anecdotal reports from around Colorado are that many lek sites are still under snow and strutting activity may get started a little later this year than usual. We’ll hope that most sage-grouse survived the winter and will still show up eventually, and on the up side the conditions may allow viewing later into the season than is normally possible.