 A Baillie Too Far Recently I noted with some trepidation that May was drawing to a close and my annual Baillie Birdathon remained undone. (The basic idea of which is getting pledges then picking a 24 hour period before the end of May and counting as many birds as possible.) My personal challenge has always been that of having 100, or more, bird species on my list. The pledges were in place, the birds were in place(s) - now all I needed was the urge. Generally I don’t pick the Baillie Birdathon day; the Birdathon day picks me, and it is often triggered by some unusual bird sighting. This year’s trigger was more obscure and the whole day began rather listlessly, no pun intended. Last Monday morning I made a short jaunt to a clear-cut that is slated to be the new 100 Mile House playing fields (Friday evening I was booked to lead a group of birders to this general area so I wanted to discover interesting birds and check the walk-ability of the wood debris covered ground. One lure of this area is the spruce forest on the south side of the clear cut. In its former glory this spot featured the Townsend’s Warbler which sang from the tall mature spruce treetops, and Thrushes, birds that like to lurk on shadowed forest floors. I was relieved to find that some of these birds could still be found on the edge of the forest despite the adjacent open ground. At the edge of this stand of trees on Monday morning, thoughts of the Baillie Birdathon were far from my mind as I stood and listened. The tall spruce rocked gently to and fro and then I caught the song of a Townsend’s Warbler, its agitated, dry notes barely audible. Then I heard another sound like the call of a Chickadee but not one I’d heard before. It sounded as if a Chickadee was uttering only the last part of its song, ‘dee-dee-dee-dee.’ The bird produced eight ‘dee’s’ in a row, all in an uninspired drone. Was it the creaking of tree roots? No it was a bird. I listened and looked but only my ears provided any clues. The caller droned on intermittently. I left and crossed the bare ground to the airport fields. At the very tip of the tarmac I scanned the tall grass and spotted a curious bird. It sat barely visible some distance away. It had a red body, a pointed tail and a grey stubby head. What? That was no bird sitting on a twisted post – that was the head of a skulking Sandhill Crane! Hmmm – things were becoming more interesting. Suddenly a Northern Pintail lurched from the tall grass and sped towards Exeter Lake. This, oddly, was my Baillie Birdathon trigger. Each year as June approaches, Pintails are notoriously hard to find and I planned to get as many ducks on my Baillie Birdathon as possible. I did after all state in this year’s tourist pamphlet that we do Ducks well. Now was my chance to prove it. That was it. The Baillie Birdathon was on. I went home and checked my species. I had 66; all gathered from the walk around 100 Mile Marsh and the ice arena. Not bad I thought, but there was still much to do to reach 100 species. I hastily concocted a plan to insure that I’d reach my goal. But then I hesitated. Four days ago I watched the movie ‘An Inconvenient Truth’ and was convinced that each person must do more to curb C02 emissions. I decided to modify my search, as to how many miles I traveled by car. In past years I’d driven six miles west of town to be sure I’d get the Solitary Sandpiper, Blue-winged teal, Eastern Kingbird, Hooded Mergansers, and Purple Finch. In other years I traveled ten miles east to get Bitterns, Black terns, Redstarts, Veerys, and Sandhill Cranes. I’d even gone eight miles north during those same years to get Scoters, and shorebirds. Could I get 100 species without traveling to those far flung habitats? With this in mind I set limits. I would travel to Exeter Lake which is just on the west side of 100 Mile House. I would go no farther north than 103 Mile Lake with stops at 101 Marsh and the new Sewer Lagoon. Then I would stop and see how my list was shaping up. From busy Exeter Lake Road I spied one of the day’s highlights; a Peregrine Falcon perched in the top of a poplar tree. While watching the Falcon I saw a flash of wings over the lake and counted two White-winged Scoters. I saw three Gulls on the dock. From their fleshy pink feet I could tell they weren’t the ubiquitous Ring-billed Gulls. I claimed them as ‘other than Ring-billed’ Gulls leaving room to later count Ring-bills. The get-em-here-or-get-‘em-nowhere Sparrows I hoped for appeared as I stood on the side of the road by Exeter Lake – the White-crowned, and the Clay-coloured. However, The Vesper Sparrow stayed mute, but I knew I’d get that at 103 Lake. Now it was off to the new sewer lagoon where I spotted a male Eurasian Wigeon. The hoped for Blue-winged Teal, just about the only duck missing from my list, continued to be missed. It wasn’t at 103 Mile Lake either. I returned home and tallied my list, eighty three. It was getting to mid afternoon and hot. Should I press on? My late start and rather low numbers had me dithering. Nevertheless I went to Skaday Bridge. This year the water levels in the meadows hadn’t risen so no shorebirds presented themselves. I returned a few birds richer and told myself that because I started my Baillie Birdathon at 8:30 a.m. I had next morning until 8:30 a.m. to tally a few more species. And that’s what I did. The birds I hoped for were in town, or on the way, so I sallied forth in the cool morning air. At Sawmill Bridge I got my hoped-for Willow Flycatcher. I swung into the park and got the Winter Wren, and the missing Golden-crowned Kinglet. As a gift, Red Crossbills flew over. They’ve been long absent from the area so I hardly knew them by call. Next it was over to the marsh for the Virginia Rail, which thankfully was very vocal. Although it was 7:30 a.m. and there was only one more hour to go, I needed coffee. I hadn’t tallied my count and was a little dubious about what I’d find but when I sat outside the coffee shop on the main street of town; I added a singing House Finch, and sighted Cedar Waxwings eating cherry blossoms. Slightly refreshed I dared to count my sightings. Incredibly I’d reached 100! I have to admit that the only really disputable bird was the strange Chickadee from early on in the count. After reading about Boreal Chickadee calls I became convinced that this was my bird. I planned to confirm that in coming days reasoning that since nesting season is underway it is likely that it will stay in the same general area. And now for the awards of this year’s Baillie Birdathon: In the category of ‘Where were you all day?’ The award goes to two common birds inexplicably absent on count day – the Downy Woodpecker, and the Ring-billed Gull. And for ‘appearance beyond the call of duty’ for a bird that is often reticent but this year plentiful - the winner is the MacGillivary’s Warbler. And the Lincoln Sparrow was a close second. To e-mail Tom CLICK HERE To look at previous column CLICK HERE |
