California Condor. Every bird has a tag and radio antenna.
Wendy's California Highlights
We were in California from late August until mid October and had lots of cool experiences, so “CA highlights” is long. If you are interested only in reading about birds, then just read the paragraphs preceded by ++. We travelled more than 1600 miles (not in a straight line), and we added 78 birds to the Bird Year list.
The moon was full when we came into California, and Mars unusually close to the Earth. Jupiter shone brightly just above Mars. We looked with our binoculars and had a big surprise. These binoculars are so sharp that we could clearly see the moons of Jupiter! I knew our Swarovski and Vortex optics were good, but I didn’t know how good.
We pedalled through the redwoods. When there were gaps in the traffic, we marvelled at the quiet and peace these huge trees give.
A few days into CA, we camped in the back yard of legendary California birders CJ and Carol Ralph in Arcata. CJ is the patriarch of Northern California ornithologists: although he would say he doesn’t live in Northern California, but “Baja Oregon”. I offered to cook swiss chard for our picnic supper. Carol said “Let’s see, there are six of us. How many leaves should we pick? Six?”
“Oh-oh!” I thought. “Six leaves of swiss chard? We’ll starve. “
Then I went to Carol and CJ’s garden. Never have I seen such robust, vividly coloured chard. One stem contained more biomass than my whole Yukon crop. I cooked five stems, and there were left-overs. CJ told us that his “yard list” has 297 bird species, although he freely admitted that he considers a large area as a part of his yard.
++ Dave Fix (who has written a great guide to birds of northern California)
guided us through the Arcata Marsh. It was created as one of the first tertiary sewage treatment projects, and is great bird habitat. Humboldt County is a cool place. It’s the only place I’ve heard of where the people chased Wall-mart developers away, tails between their legs. Dave told us an amazing tale: I hope I have it right. In 1993 or thereabouts, people noticed two Marbled Godwits feeding together in Arcata Marsh. They had old bands on their legs. When scientists examined the bands they realized that the birds had been banded less than a mile away, back in 1969. Their band numbers were either sequential or very nearly so, indicating that the birds had at that time been feeding "with" each other. Those 2 birds were 25 years old and had probably spent their whole lives together
Margaret Taylor and Jay Sooter are great hosts. They have hosted a number of international students and have friends scattered all around the world. They had just returned from Spain, visiting their first-ever exchange student who now has a young family. They told us they feel awkward as travelling Americans, so they wear T-shirts on which are written, in 6 languages : "American Traveler International Apology Shirt. I'm sorry my president's an idiot. I didn't vote for him”.
In Fort Bragg we met with folks from the Mendocino Coast Audubon. They took us out for a delicious meal in a heritage building. The owners of Cowlicks Ice Cream (staunch Audubon supporters) treated us to mushroom ice cream cones! One of their projects is “Save our Shorebirds”. They are working to protect snowy plover nesting habitat. In that area, the nests get stepped on by unsuspecting beach walkers, or the plovers get scared off their nests by unleashed dogs. Public education signs were routinely being vandalized. Having heard that children’s art is seldom vandalized, they visited to dozens of classrooms last year, and encouraged hundreds of kids to paint posters. They framed them all and had a huge art show, and now some of the posters are on the beaches, telling people to keep their dogs on a leash. Not one poster has been wrecked.
Keith Hansen is a self-taught wildlife artist and “birdologist” who lives in Bolinas, one of the funky capitals of America. His studio opens on to a courtyard full of blossoming plants and bird feeders. From his studio, Keith has counted 207 bird species since 1991. He is an energetic man with a huge smile. Ideas bubble out of his mouth. He can’t keep still, he bounces and gesticulates as he talks. We will collaborate with Keith in designing our Bird Day Challenge, because he has so many cool ideas.
++ We bumped down a dirt road into Point Reyes Bird Observatory (PRBO) late on a Saturday afternoon. One of the interns greeted us, offered us a place to camp, and the use of their clothes washer, which was exactly what we needed. The next day we walked along dusty trail towards Bass Lake. We saw a sparrow on the trail pecking in the dust and ignoring the lush bushes alongside. I saw it first and said “White-crowned Sparrow”. Malkolm took one look and corrected me, “Black- throated Sparrow”. It turns out this was a rare species on the coast. It is a desert bird, and may have been driven here by the fires in central valley. Keith Hansen vibrated with excitement when he saw the photos.
People shook their heads when they heard we planned to head inland on the Bolinas-Fairfax Road. “It’s steep, with two big hills!” We heard the road gets more bicycle traffic than cars. We took our helmets off for the long climb. It was the first time since northern BC that we could hear birds as we rode along. We climbed out of the coastal fog that had cooled us for the last month. Ken said he felt at home when we crested and found ourselves in dry, hot hills. He grew up in the shadow of Mt. Diablo, which dominates the skyline here.
We stayed with Mark Stefanski in San Raphael. He and his wife Johanna have a living room full of reptiles and amphibians. In one terrarium a china- blue frog sat motionless. I had to see breathing before I knew it was alive. It had a gloating smile on its face, and held its finger tips together. If you have read Harry Potter, it looked exactly like Dolores Umbridge. Mark teaches science at Marin Academy. We gave 4 presentations to various classes the next day. The school has a really positive feeling – no doubt due to the quality of their teachers, including Mark!
++ Cycling south from San Raphael, we stopped to talk to two women. One of them was turning 82 that day. While we chatted, a cyclist pulled up. “Are you birders?” she asked. When we replied yes, she led us down the path a short way to where she had just heard some Clapper Rails. Clapper Rails! They are difficult to see! Soon we could hear them calling. Malkolm raced down to the edge of the canal to take photos. The late afternoon light was rich. Malkolm got lots of great shots, and muddy feet. It took us half an hour to clean the sticky black goo off his feet. Church bells chimed six o’clock, and the sun was low by the time his feet were clean enough to put in a sleeping bag. Nervously we steered into narrow roads with late commuter traffic. At sunset, we pulled off onto a walking trail and rolled our sleeping bags out on a sloped hillside, dotted dangerously with poison oak. This was our first experience of “combat camping”. In the north, it is normal to camp beside the road. In the USA there is so much private property, and so many No Trespassing signs, and you have to be brave (or stupid) to do it.
Todd Newbury is a keen birder (and author of “The Ardent Birder”) who lives in Santa Cruz. He planned a route to take us to find the birds on Malkolm’s wish list, but was surprised to hear that we wouldn’t even get into a car to go birding for the day. “You are setting me a challenge”, he said. He rethought his plans. We met him at Elkhorn Slough at 9 am. Malkolm wanted to see a Nuttall’s woodpecker. Todd took us to a grove of oaks. He pulled out a CD player and fiddled with the dial. He broadcast one short sequence of bird song. Twenty seconds later, we heard the same sound coming from the trees and a Nuttall’s woodpecker flew into a clearing. Todd had a delighted twinkle in his eye. We had never seen such magic before. Todd is tireless and took us to three birding locales where we saw seven new species before lunch. Mind you, lunch was at 3 pm. Todd said “I never eat when I’m birding”. Maybe that is why he is so lean.
We camped out for 6 days at the hike and bike camp at Veteran’s Park in Monterey. It is close to downtown and a great place to stay. It is also next to the Presidio, and every morning Reveille blasted over the loudspeakers. Every night we were woken by Taps about an hour after we went to sleep. We planned months in advance the date of our pelagic sailing trip out of Monterey. There was a small craft warning that day. Nevertheless, we set off, each with nausea-preventing bands strapped to our wrists. Our captain, Eric, assured us this would be a 100% fossil fuel free trip, and it was. We tacked in to the wind and lurched over swells. Looking through binoculars made us feel instantly queasy. Tim Amaral , our guide and experienced pelagic birder, bravely held binoculars to his eyes way more than anyone else. In a sailboat we were able to cruise right through a miles long flock of sooty shearwaters resting on the swells without spooking them. The night before, Ken had popped popcorn over our camp stove. It was not easy. Our pot got burned. The popcorn had a hint of char. We threw that popcorn out behind the boat in the hopes of attracting gulls and other birds, but after awhile it seemed as though the birds decided other boats offered better pickings. We were proud to make it back to shore without being sick.
++ Ken and Malkolm made a 40 mile day trip/detour up towards Salinas in the hopes of finding a yellow billed magpie. Normally we don’t do detours. I stayed behind in Monterey to take care of business (read: answer phone) and drink medicinal cups of coffee, because I had a bit of a cold. They found not only magpies but California Thrashers. They were chuffed.
From Monterey we pedalled back north to Watsonville to give a presentation at the Monterey Bay Birding Festival. We met Debbie Shearwater who has run pelagic birding trips for decades. She told us that she would not have gone out on the day we did our trip.
++ We hoped to spot California Condors on our way down the Big Sur coast. We totally lucked out and the show they put on surpassed our dreams. We watched condors soaring overhead. “They ARE the size of small airplanes,” Malkolm remarked. They circled again and again above us before perching on the cliff right below our viewpoint. Their fluffed out neck feathers reminded me of a feather boa scarf. Each condor wore a large plastic tag. A biologist came by and told us one pair of condors had successfully nested in the wild this year. We were delighted and relieved when Governor Schwarzenegger signed a bill outlawing lead ammunition in the range of the condors – lead poisoning has been the leading cause of death of reintroduced condors.
Big Sur Coast is hilly. But it does not win the most difficult cycling award. No, that title doesn’t go to the mountain pass east of San Diego either. We thought the most difficult terrain in the whole of the west was the Mendocino coast. On the horizontal elevation map we used it looks innocent, like a plateau with little dips around rivers. In real life, at each of those dips, you lose altitude, turn a 180 degree bend, lose all your momentum, and then struggle up the hill on the other side to regain the plateau. The Tomales area is the worst of the worst. It almost broke my spirit.
++ Dolores Pollock is a board member for Santa Barbara Audubon. Bill Pollock is a bicycle racing champion. They welcomed us to their home overlooking Santa Barbara. We rode to Deveraux wetland late in the afternoon, an area where snowy plovers had thrived long ago but recently were struggling. On the wetland and the beach, Audubon and their partners “renovated” by removing exotic shrubs. Doing so, they removed cover for predators that were killing snowy plover chicks. As soon as they removed the acacia, plovers nested again. We saw dozens of snowy plovers on that beach. The next day, Bill led us through hilly neighbourhoods of Santa Barbara to the Mission. We kept up with him on the flats, but on the hills, Bill made two quick pedal strokes, and effortlessly accelerated away from us. We met up with local cyclists, who escorted us through the city. Fast. I had tantalizing glimpses of splendid architecture and shady parks. I need to go back there. Our bike guides led us south through the next two towns. The next day, we were picked up again by local cyclists.
++ At Point Mugu State Park, north of LA, Malkolm went out birding as usual in the morning. He saw a Gray Catbird, and took photos. He thought it might be unusual. When we arrived at Santa Monica Pier later that day, one of the Audubon members heard about the catbird and immediately pulled a small gismo out of his pocket. He punched a keyboard. “There”, he said, “I’ve posted it on the rare bird alert”.
Jennifer Klausner and Kevin Kohler are members of LA Bicycle Coalition. They met us on the outskirts of LA County on Saturday morning. They escorted us into Santa Monica. They pointed out mansions of the stars and taught us how to “take the lane.” It takes nerve when cars are parked on the shoulder of the highway – you basically have to force the Porsches out of your way. Members of the Santa Monica Audubon greeted us on the pier. We drank fresh orange juice with them, and gathered useful birding information. Early in the afternoon, we pedalled off down the path that winds along the beaches, passing kite flyers, beach volleyball players, and colourful condos that we could never afford with a lifetime of saving. As the shadows lengthened, Ken realized that his tire which he had pumped up this morning was now soft again. The problem was, we had ten miles to go on LA streets to reach our hotel, and only about an hour of daylight. He decided not to replace the tube. Instead, we rode along and at increasingly short intervals Ken needed to stop and pump. It was getting dark. The pump stopped working .We had to dig out the spare. Now, he was pumping every half mile. You get the picture. Not nice. We arrived at our hotel as darkness fell. It was not a happy ending either, but I won’t go into that.
Los Angeles River trickles down a concrete bed, between huge high concrete banks. (Would this be a levee you go to in your Chevy?). It is a sad sight. We cycled along those banks and around the corner to Orange County. The Sea and Sage Audubon had organized two full days of activities for us – interspersed with hearty food - and two luxurious nights of accommodation. They cycled with us to Bolsa Chica Wetland, reclaimed from oil drilling and rescued from becoming a huge marina and housing development. Amigos de Bolsa Chica and Bolsa Chica Land Trust worked for thirty years to make this bird haven what it is. Thirty years! That takes a lot of determination. The next day we spent in another wetland area. These are good bird habitats, but they make up a tiny percentage of greater Los Angeles. Scott and Cheryl Thomas, our chief organizers in Orange County are such great organizers that they even managed to get us free accommodation in the desert near the Salton Sea.
If you have read this far, you deserve a prize!
++ There is a network of birders, and we have a long list of potential contacts. One of these was legendary San Diego birder Guy McCaskie. We were a little afraid to phone him with our questions, but when we did, he was extremely helpful and generous with his knowledge. Armed with Guy’s information, maps from Nancy Kenyon at Sea and Sage, and bike routes I had pulled off the internet, we gritted our teeth and headed into San Diego. Our target bird was a Bar-tailed Godwit, a bird that normally migrates between Alaska and New Zealand. One had been hanging out in Famosa Slough for over a week. It was not easy to get there by bicycle. But when we did, we knew we were in the right place because of all the spotting scopes and huge cameras directed at the swamp. Malkolm spent 4 hours examining that godwit to convince himself of the identification (it was a juvenile) while Ken and I left to find coffee. Then Malkolm phoned the rare bird alert line. Luckily, I thought, the Yellow-green Vireo that had been seen in a city park ten miles further south was no longer there. Relieved to avoid that extra urban riding, Bird Year turned east.
We climbed the mountain pass to Julian on the first day of the Julian Apple Festival. The one lane, twisting road was busy with traffic. When we arrived in Julian, the streets were jammed with cars and pedestrians, and there were line-ups a block long outside each bakery selling apple pie. We decided not to join a queue but bought a whole apple pie. We ate it for breakfast the next day. A whole pie is one of our favourite breakfasts.
++ Two Spotted Owls hooted and whistled as we fell asleep in the oak forest near Julian. It was the first time we heard them, and we have been searching and calling for them all the way down the coast. These owls are endangered Northern Spotted Owls. We were worried three weeks later when wild fires raged through southern California and approached Julian. Were these owls safe?
Anza Borrego Desert State Park is over the mountains from Julian. It sits in a flat bowl surrounded by dry mountains. It reminds me of Death Valley. For sixteen hours a day it is a wonderful place, and for the other four hours, it needs to be endured. Black–throated Sparrows visited our picnic table, along with tiny kangaroo rats. Following Guy McCaskie’s directions, we tried hard to find Le Conte’s Thrashers, unsuccessfully.
++ Salton Sea is a weird place. Long long ago it was connected to the Sea of Cortez, and more recently got water when the Colorado River flooded. That last happened over a century ago, and now it is a super salty and rich in chemicals from agricultural run-off. It smells. It’s toxic. Birds go there in huge numbers, because it is the only water around. We were very careful when we camped, not to get the dry mud on our cooking utensils. We saw two Yellow-legged Gulls there – they are a Salton Sea speciality. We did not find Mountain Plovers, but we did find Guy McCaskie looking for them in the same field we were searching.
Mechanical troubles made us change our route out of California. We went to a bike shop in El Centro and had to leave the state on Interstate 8, which is closed to bikes. Getting onto the interstate involved lowering our bikes down a steep, slippery, dried mud slope in the scorching shadeless heat of an October morning. Cycling can be arduous. We were sorry to leave California – mainly because of all the great, helpful people we met.
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