The Human Birdwatcher Project Presents: How To Chase a Rarity

I've seen only three Yellow-throated Warblers in California. All were wonderful, and all found by other people. I used a nominal amount of wit, cunning and persistence to find them. But what is a nominal task for some birders is a seemingly insurmountable hardship for others. It doesn't have to be that way. Photographed at Ferry Park in San Francisco, CA.

According to the Human Birdwatcher Project (where "birders are people too!"), approximately 95% of birders will chase rarities at least occasionally, and 87% of birders will chase a bird at least once this year, be it near or far.

I am the 87%.

I chase a lot of birds, within a certain radius anyway. Always have, probably always will. I love seeing birds, don't care who found them. Sure, self-found birds are way better, but the idea of snobbishly avoiding going to see a rarity because someone else found it is absurd at best. If you are waiting to find your own Ivory Gull instead of looking for one someone else reported...good luck with that. I hope you have a long life ahead of you...you're gonna need it. The trick is not getting into the habit of doing nothing but chasing. But I digress, because this post is dedicated to chasing. More specifically, how to maximize your chances of success and comport yourself with some dignity.

Why write this post? For years, I never really believed that writing this post was necessary. Chasing a bird properly never seemed overly challenging, though of course there is never a guarantee that you will find what you seek. However, birders are a...special bunch. They need help sometimes. I've seen this at stakeout after stakeout, and it is time someone speaks up about the fact that, sadly, many birders are astonishingly bad at chasing birds.

Do you find that you dip and grip more often than you nail your target birds? Do you ever leave a chase feeling confused and embarrassed? The Human Birdwatcher Project is here to help. Let us cut to the chase...

I knew the approximate area where one could find the secret, not-so-secret Common Black-Hawk in Sonoma County, but once I got myself there I did not really know where to look. Mistakes were made. Luckily, some last minute texting got me pointed in the right direction, and all was well in the world. Photographed at a secret, not-so-secret location in Sonoma County, CA.

1) Get directions to get to the right place. This is fundamental, but if you don't have the fundamentals down then you don't have anything. Use Google Earth/Google Maps satellite imagery to pinpoint the exact spot and the correct access route prior to loading up your chasemobile. Know that when birders provide coordinates for a bird, even if that means nothing to you, you can just copy and paste them into Google Maps and that will display the location of where you need to get yourself. For example, I got my lifer Long-toed Stint at 52.371129°, 175.882463°. Plug that in and see where it takes you.

Read all the emails in the listservs, which typically provide better directions than eBird descriptions. It's usually pretty simple, and does not require you asking everyone in the listserv all over again about how to get to see the so and so when directions that could not be any clearer have already been posted for your convenience.

2) This is for you Geris out there...and with that said this is going to be ironic, but here goes: don't be ageist. I can't count the number of times my birding testimony at stakeouts has been doubted by other birders who don't know me, simply because I am unwithered and not wearing a Tilly hat. We "younger" birders don't assume old birders are untrustworthy, so why does anyone under 40 get viewed with suspicion by the ancients? This habit will not help you see your birds, ageist Geri birder.

You would think that any birder chasing a Falcated Duck, one of the most facemelting and unique waterfowl species in the world, would not need help identifying it. Sadly, you would be wrong. Photographed at Colusa National Wildlife Refuge, CA.

3) Study first. Again, this is fundamental stuff, but it bears repeating. What does the target bird look like? What does it sound like? Is it similar to other birds likely to be in the area? What are the clinching, diagnostic field marks? I've seen a great number of birders show up at a stakeout and require the bird to not only be found for them, but to be identified and interpreted to them as well. In short, they need their hand held. Hey, I like to hold hands too, but it's better to be prepared to identify a bird on your own.

4) Look at photos of the actual individual bird you are searching for prior to looking for it. While this was impossible 20 years ago with how long it took to process film and distribute the results (which in turn required a freaking projector if slides were involved), these days it couldn't be any easier. Check eBird, check listservs, etc. While not necessary for some birds, it can be extremely helpful for Vague Runts of many species.

One day, I looked for this Snow Bunting. I did not utilize all the available resources because I did not think finding the right spot would be difficult...I was wrong. Rookie mistake. Not only did I miss the bird, I never got to the right place. Luckily a couple days later I met Flycatcher Jen for the first time and she took me straight to it. Photographed at some parking lot by the Portland Airport, Portland, OR.

5) Utilize all available resources. Check multiple listservs, eBird, forums, rare bird alerts. The more information the better!

6) Birders are notoriously awkward and socially stunted. When at a stakeout, don't be afraid to talk to people to get details. Birders will sometimes be looking at the MEGA RARITY that you drove 3 hours to come see, and they won't bother telling anyone around them, knowing you are there for the same reason they are. Not chill. Talking to people at stakeouts can pay off in all manner of ways. Also, if a bird is not showing and birders are spreading out to track it down, it is wise to exchange phone numbers with someone else scouring the area.

7) Though I encourage birders to communicate, that comes with the caveat that most birders are not experts, and some are downright stringy. It takes practice to figure out the type of birder you are talking to when they are a total stranger. Are they legit? Inexperienced? Stringy? If someone says, "the split supercilium was surprisingly conspicuous from certain angles", they are probably more credible than someone who says "we knew it was different because it was feeding differently". So keep this in mind...when you roll up someplace and someone says, "oh, the bird was just here", that may not necessarily be true.

Unless you pray at the alter of your county list and nowhere else, you don't need to look for the unexpected Surf Scoter, Black Scoter, or White-winged Scoter that turns up. You must look for the Common Scoter. Crescent City Harbor, Crescent City, CA.

8) Sometimes, you just have to go. Veteran birders have a good sense of when they absolutely must drop everything and go for a bird immediately, beginners and intermediate birders don't. This is in part because they are acutely aware of the level of rarity any species has in their area, and to a lesser degree because they have a good grip on what species may be "naturally occurring". As the old saying goes, "look for the Barnacle Goose in January, not the one in July".

There isn't a birder out there who does not regret missing out on a certain chase, but it's better to have one chase regret (California's last Eastern Whip-poor-will immediately comes to mind for me) than ten. When in doubt, go for the bird!

9) Don't be afraid to look for the bird somewhere else besides where it was last seen if it's not showing up. This could simply mean looking a few hundred feet away, or a mile away. There is risk in this, but the reward can be great, and if you do refind the bird elsewhere you won't be standing in the middle of a crowd of birders, feverish with birdlust.

10) Time and tide are not to be ignored. Birds often settle into patterns quickly when they arrive someplace. Take note of the time of day when stakeout birds are being seen. If you are in a coastal area and are searching for a waterbird, tides often make a huge difference on the distribution of birds. I recommend getting an app for tides in your local area.

Cass and I waited an entire day for this Great Gray Owl to appear; many birders came and went, and a couple of them even made fun of me for Brambring. But, as anyone who has seen a Great Gray can attest to, the wait was well worth it. Since then, frankly, things have never been the same. Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, Humboldt County, CA.

11) Be patient/try again. This one is simple. Sometimes, it literally takes all day to find a bird. Don't be afraid to put in the work. It may also take 3 or 4 or more attempts to find the bird you are looking for. Birding can not only be hard, it can be pain, and you have to be willing to endure it.

12) If you have the time, don't forget to peruse other birds in the immediate area. The Patagonia Picnic Table Effect is real...ignore the other birds around at your own peril.Vague Runts beget Vague Runts.

13) Most importantly...don't string. I know this is hard for some people (I'm looking at you, notorious repeat stringers). If, for example, you string a stakeout bird and are the last person to report it, there is a good chance you are going to cause birders to drive out to look for the bird from god knows how far away. That's a dick move, isn't it? And when they see your facepalm-inducing photo or bullshit description on eBird, you aren't going to be winning any popularity contests (#birdingpariah). Most importantly, your birding victory is an empty accomplishment, false and hollow. And somewhere, deep down in your heart of hearts, you know it to be true. Can there be anything worse?

Unlikely.

There you have it birders...hopefully you learned something, or at least got a refresher. Forever and always, The Human Birdwatcher Project is here for you.

Humboldting: Rarities From Far and Near (?)

In birding, one of the few certainties we can cling to is that little is certain. I will now provide you with one of these rare certainties...

Every winter, an extremely rare bird will show up in Humboldt County.

Don't believe me? Since 2013...

Little Bunting (2013)
Gyrfalcon (2013-2014)
King Eider (2014)
Brambring (2014-2015)
Snowy Owl (2016)
Great Gray Owl (2015-2016, 2016-2017)

Oh, and these were just the chaseable birds...in winter. Never mind the rest of the year. Oh wait, I forgot one...

Common Pochard (2016-2017)

Common fucking Pochard. Until this bird was found, this was one of the biggest blockers in California...there has only been one chaseable bird in the state ever...oh, and other than Alaska, there has also never been one in any other states or provinces. Talk about a MEGUHHH!!! Sweet, sweet, Siberian action...it doesn't get much better than this bird, and I am still trying to get out the stains in my pants from when I first learned about this bird.

Of course, not only would this bird be a lifer for me, it is a totally bizarre bird in some respects, something good to look at and ponder...a bird that seems to perfectly fit in the center of the Canvasback-Redhead spectrum. Since the Old World has neither Canvasbacks or Redheads, this somehow makes sense.

However, Billy was about to have a baby...my baby, in fact...so when the pochard news initially broke, I did not actually think I would see the bird. Going to Humboldt at this time would be absurd. But Billy knew my severe gripoff pain and we went north, and we got the bird at a most frigid dawn at the Redwood Creek Oxbow without difficulty. Though I spotted the bird before she did, it is safe to say that I owe Billy a luxurious HJ.

Distant but good looks at this lifer with Redheads and Ring-necked Ducks were had, and after chatting with Officer Fowler of Fowlerope Birding Tours, we took a walk through the facemelting old growth at Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park. No Gray Jays or Pileated Woodpeckers appeared, but the forest was as ridiculous and grandiose as ever.

I couldn't help but give a Steller's Jay a mild crushing on our way out. Sure they are abundant and eat Marbled Murrelet eggs, but think back on the first one you laid your squinty nerd eyes on...crippling, eh?

There was plenty of daylight left, so we lurked down to Arcata Marsh, since that is always the default place to bird if you have nothing to do. This time it was hosting a couple rarities to provide extra motivation for a visit.

Billy came up with a nice group of Redheads feeding close to the trail. It's hard to see these birds up close in California, so I was chuffed. Not pochard chuffed, but chuffed nonetheless.

Ahh, sweet, succulent and locally uncommon Redhead, it is much better to observe you up close. Remember, if you meet any pochards in your travels, try to convince them to stay on this continent. It is the flyway less travelled...if you are a pochard.

Those Redheads will probably never meet a pochard, but they were acquainted with another Sibe. While I was staring at the Redheads, Billy got on the most popular bird at the marsh, a totally incognito female Tufted Duck. I've seen a handful of female Tufteds before, and this was by far the most indistinct individual I have seen, though she had the classic small, dusky white spot at the base of the bill. She really looked quite scaup-like though, and would not be eye-grabbing at all from a distance.

I'm no Tom Johnson when it comes to flight shots (in fact only Tom Johnson is Tom Johnson in that regard) but I was pleased to collect this girl's soul as she took wing on her way to Allen Marsh. I did not expect her to have the head shape of a Rhinoceros Auklet, but there it is.

Most of you know I lived in Humboldt for a long time...a long time. It has a special place in my heart, so much so that I am all about county listing there. Some years ago, while getting things up to speed in eBird, I actually had to reconstruct my Humboldt list using actual checklists, which is just about as novel as it can fucking get. Amazingly to me, I could never find any record of seeing Blue-gray Gnatcatcher in the county...which was finally rectified when some rando birders got me on the one wintering at the marsh. Local rarity! County bird! Victory!

A life bird...in Humboldt County...and another Humboldt County bird in the same day...with a bonus Tufted Duck. What a fucking day! But we weren't finished yet...

Next to Arcata Marsh is the infamous V Street Loop, a classic car-birding site. Short-eared Owl used to be a gimme here, but with much of the former grassland now converted to tidal wetland, they aren't nearly as dependable. Northern Harriers are still abundant though.

This hell of gray Savannah Sparrow caught my eye next to the road; I don't see birds like this very often. I wonder where it's from...any ideas? It was accompanied by 1-2 similar individuals.

Almost no color in the lores. So plain, but so striking. So Economy of Style. This bird gives credence to the argument against that old adage, "Life is Savannah Sparrows".

Finally, it was time to look for yet another absurd bird...a Great Gray Owl on the edge of town. Unbelievably, this was the second in Humboldt County of 2016 (and no, I do not think it is the same bird from Prairie Creek). The closest source population for these birds is not in the Sierra Nevada, it is in southern Oregon (i.e. the Ashland area, a mere 115 miles northeast as the owl flies), but obviously there is no way of knowing where Humboldt's birds originated. I presume Great Grays occur more often than we think in Humboldt, Del Norte (no records in eBird) and especially Siskiyou (no records in eBird) counties, which all have vast areas of potentially suitable habitat that get no coverage by birders. There are quite a few records in Oregon within 20 miles of the Siskyou County line. Interestingly, there are no coastal records of this species in Oregon, where there are considerably more Great Grays than there are in California...Humboldt County alone has what, four individuals now? Only in Humboldt...

More important than speculating about the One Bird Theory and source populations is seeing a Great Gray Owl. It is a spectacular bird. Photos do not do them justice, it is a bird to be seen to be truly believed.

The weather deteriorated after this ridiculously good day of birding, though we did make it out to get better looks at the owl again. On the way back south on 101, we were greeted by a fully legit snowstorm. Unfuckingbelievable. Those of you who are familiar with the San Francisco-Arcata drive can appreciate this...I have never seen anything like it. We pulled over along the Eel to take it all in, and were treated to a real fallout...of robins. Hundreds were falling out of the sky, pouring into the roadside vegetation from upslope. Too much snow for [good] photos, but it was nothing like I've ever seen.

Another great Humboldt visit in the bag. Life bird! County bird! Great Gray Owl! Bonus Sibe! Snow! Billy didn't go into labor! I couldn't ask for much more.

Half Dome In Humboldt

In January, I posted about the Great Gray Owl in Humboldt County. I wanted to go north for this bird, but had severe anxiety about reliving the Brambring experience. But the owl continued to be seen at Elk Prairie, so (no surprise) I made my way up north after obsessively checking the listserv and eBird on a neurotically frequent basis. Of course, I was not surprised when the inevitable happened...the day I arrived in Arcata, the bird had gone missing. After being reported every day for weeks on end, the bird was dipped on by everybody.

The next morning I braced myself for the worst and gathered up the Cassowary from his Bayside abode and headed north. I warned him in advance that if he went with me, we would be glued to the prairie for the entire day if that's how long it took to see or, as I thought, thoroughly dip on the bird. We arrived at the parking lot next to the bird's preferred spot, and waited. And waited. And waited. We wandered around a bit, but there was not much to see in terms of birdlife. Eventually, the gang of photographers camped in the parking lot disappeared, and we had the place to ourselves. There was much bullshitting...talk of friends, nudibranchs, Star Wars, Mexico, etc. Finally I decided we needed a break from the depressing monotony and headed up the freeway to check some of the owl's alternate spots (without success), and then down to Orick for breakfast at the Palm Cafe, which is one of my favorite restaurants in the world. And if you think I'm crazy for saying that...you are missing out on many of the good things in life.

After late breakfast, we lurked back to the prairie to continue our wait. People came and went. Not one, but two birders I knew separately found me and brought up the fucking Brambring, which was fitting considering The Brambring Incident had happened almost exactly a year before and we were currently in the process of dipping on the Great Gray a la Brambring...one of them had even seen me in my suffering on that awful weakend, slumped over on a curb of that goddamn cul de sac.

They too came and went. It was getting later in the day...finally some elk came over, which provided something to look at.

Elk train.

Sparring elk.

Elk clash.

Covert elk.

After I couldn't take the elk madness for any longer, I wandered down the road toward the other side of the prairie. All the birders and photogs were clustered next to the elk, and the area was not being covered very well. Cassowary broke off and joined me, eager to escape the elk-mad geri masses. Further down the road ahead, we saw a vehicle stopped. I had noticed that these people had two white poodly things with them earlier, but I figured that even poodly people could spot a massive owl, and there were no elk nearby who would give them a reason to stop. We walked down toward where their SUV was stopped and predictably saw nothing (they probably had to stop to pamper their dogs), so I scoped the signs and benches across the prairie in case the owl had decided to come out and perch in some ridiculously obvious place.

And there it was. I couldn't believe it...I had thought we were doomed the entire day, but there it was, sitting next to the park road, unconcerned while cars passed by a few feet away. I was floored, rendered slack-jawed. Talk about a quality lifer. However, it was all about to get better.

After moving into a more reasonable viewing distance, the bird disappeared into the woods after choking down a vole. As we walked by where the bird was last seen, the Cassowary uttered a low, booming vocalization. I turned around to see the owl toward me. A few seconds after this photo was taken, it banked sharply toward me and glided down...it was going to try to land on me. Jesus. However, it did realize I was alive and not a good perch, so it quickly pulled up and landed in the tree next to me instead.

What a crippling bird. Few birds have ever brought the level of stoke that this bird did.

After it left the alder, it promptly flew right into the center of the group of birders behind me. I couldn't believe it. The photog in the photo is actually not aiming the lens at the owl, he was too afraid to move when it landed right next to him.

Incredibly, the owl actually to chose to perch in the center of this ring of nerds. My god, what a confiding bird.

The bird continued to hang out with us at intensely close range, perching on signs and foraging nearby in the meadow. It was brilliant. We saw it catch several voles that evening. Thankfully, the prairie must have been packed with prey and the owl was a good hunter, or else it would not have lingered there for so long.

Viewed in profile, the bird's head bore a remarkable resemblance to Half Dome in Yosemite National Park. It was uncanny.

See? I'm not even sure if this is Half Dome, this might be a Great Gray Owl.

We stayed with the bird until it was dark, and cameras were rendered useless. This is one of the best birds I've ever seen, hands down....it's immensity in size and the majesty the bird was oozing was not possible to overcome, and it's confiding ways were absolutely ridiculous. It gave us punishing looks, I really couldn't have asked for more after waiting for it the entire day. We left the bird sitting on top of the entry kiosk to the park, a fittingly absurd way to end the day. Great Success!

The Human Birdwatcher Project Presents: Plotting a Chase

Hello, mouthbreathing nerds. What is the good word? I thought I would take a respite from Mexico posts for some much needed bullshitting...time to dust off The Human Birdwatcher Project, where birders are people too!  Allegedly. There is a cornucopia of topics to touch on today...we could talk about the new round of AOU proposals, the Malheur Incident, El Nino...nah, lets just stick to rare birds.

I've just returned from a very weak morning of birding some of my favored local spots...and once again, I am left wondering why I favor them at all. Bird of the day, in terms of rarity, was a Eurasian X American Wigeon hybrid....a truly underwhelming bird. The actual bird of the day was a Turkey Vulture flying around with an enormous dead rat, which really sums up the quality of birding I experienced this morning. Some birders say that any day of birding is a good day...but they are wrong. They are lying to you. There is such a thing as poor birding, and I've experienced it hundreds of times. This is to be expected. Unless you are out chasing rarities every single time you go birding (gross), you are not going to see rare/interesting/satisfying birds all the time.  So, about those rarities...

For California birders, the big question this winter seems to be "where are the megas?". Where are the rarities that make your heart skip a beat when you hear about them?  There just hasn't been a lot to write home about for the California bird junkie...nothing newish anyways.  A Yellow-billed Loon was a one-day-wonder in San Francisco, a handful of Slaty-backed Gulls are in bay area counties (this is normal), the LeConte's Sparrow at Abbotts Lagoon is wintering again, the Field Sparrow is still taunting me from Ojai, and let us not forget that the fucking gannet is still lurking around...which probably excites no one but me.  The one glaring exception to all these great-but-not-groundbreaking birds is the Great Gray Owl in Humboldt County. Humboldt County! Hey, I really like birding there! I used to live there! That would be a county bird...oh wait, that is one of the most sought-after species on the fucking continent, and I've never seen one!

For those of you out of state, you might be surprised to learn that California actually has a not insignificant population of Great Gray Owls that occupy the Sierras and points north...so while this individual is a vagrant of sorts, it's not exactly on par with one showing up in someplace like Texas. However, those Sierra birds are extremely hit or miss. Some people are lucky enough to blunder into them, other folks just dip on them for years and years. Most birders have to log a lot of time in Yosemite to get Great Gray in California, especially now that the famed Wawona birds aren't a good shot anymore (I believe one of them was hit by a car), although they are still in the area. So I have no doubt that there are a number of Great Gray Owls that are actually closer to me than the Humboldt bird. What is so intriguing about the Humboldt bird (aside from that Great Grays do not show up as vagrants anywhere in the state, except for when one showed up at exactly this spot over 30 years ago!) is that NO ONE DIPS ON IT. If there was ever a particular Great Gray to look for in the state, it is this very reliable bird.

And so here I am, for approximately the 16,000th time, trying to time when I should attempt to see this bird. I will chase the shit out of a rare bird, as you know, but goddamn...I am not a big fan of driving hours and hours, just to turn around and waste my time driving more and more hours. That said, I don't want to be stupid about this...a few years ago I decided not to look for a relatively reliable Gyrfalcon (life bird) and King Eider (state bird) that were wintering in Humboldt, because I didn't have much money at the time (a poor reason) and because...because I was stupid (the main reason). I do not want to be stupid again. Going up for the Little Bunting was very intelligent, and seeing the Common Scoter was an even better decision. There are several factors working against me though when it comes to this bird:

1. I have a job. This seriously gets in the way of birding. If you want to become a better birder, quit working. I'm not joking.

2. I have friends. Unlike many birders, I have friends that I want to see when I go up Arcata way, so just blitzing up the coast for a two day chase (with 11-12 hours spent driving) is not my idea of a good time. Ideally, I have time to bird and rage. That requires more than a two day weekend, which needs to be planned out with some advance notice (see #1).

3. It could leave. Birds disappear all the time, for all manner of reasons. Why do you think I've never seen an Ivory Gull? If birds did not leave, birding would be really easy...alas, birding is hard.

4. Great Gray Owls breed. Great Gray Owls, like most life forms, want to breed. In Oregon and California, where this bird presumably was born, Great Grays lay eggs in March. That means this bird may soon want to wander to a place that has a member of the opposite sex around.

5. It could fucking die. It spends a good chunk of time next to Highway 101 and another paved road. Great Gray Owls love to get hit by cars. The last one in Humboldt County, at the same place, met its fate in the form of a hurtling logging truck. The irony of this has not been lost on anyone...anyways, it could die before I get there.

6. A photographer could kill it. Aside from this species' proclivity for getting bashed by vehicles, this bird also is getting a lot of attention from birders and photographers. It does not require a stretch of the imagination to envision someone with a camera (monstrous lens or smartphone) getting too close and flushing the bird into the grill of a speeding truck. Luckily, the bird has been seen by so many people now that the crazed crowds are diminishing.

7. Brambring. Brambring happened just about a year ago, which is a bad omen. I do not want to repeat that again. Attempting a chase on the anniversary of Brambring, to the same county as Brambring, has ominous overtones at best.

Who knows how things will unfold? The Answer will come along soon...but I caution all of you that I may not be able to withstand another Brambring incident. Another Brambring could break me. Keep in mind that I haven't even told you the full story of what happened that fateful weekend, in order to protect certain associates as well as myself. I was in a state of extreme physical and mental duress...and although I battled through it, it was all a fruitless endeavor in the end. To do it all over again, with a bird that hits 10/10 on the majestic scale, would impact me in ways I cannot begin to fathom.

Thinking about this owl, specifically thinking about driving up there and not seeing it, instantly strikes me with The Fear...this is what causes people to not chase birds...but I may have to take the gamble anyways. After all, as The Great Ornithologist Felonious Jive always says, it is better to be Wrong than it is to be Stupid.

Photos of the bird that is driving me crazy courtesy of Rob Fowler, a Humboldt County birding wizard.