#699 AND THE SEARCH FOR THE HOLY QUAIL

I'm back in California this week for some hard-core pelagic trips. Yesterday I was on Debi Shearwater's boat out of Monterey. This was the same trip that a week ago saw Hawaiian Petrel - a life bird for many on the boat including passenger and Big Year record-holder, Sandy Komito. I was hoping the Petrel might stick around. And on Monday, I'm heading out of San Diego for a 56 hour pelagic. Yikes - that's a lot of sea. And hopefully a lot of good birds.

Pelagic trips are the proverbial box of chocolates. You never know what you'll get until you get on the boat and open the box. Sometimes you get a delicious truffle. Or a Swiss ganache. Other times, some other bastard's eaten the lot and it's empty. Yesterday's trip from Monterey was the latter. The weather was great for humans (clear, bright, no wind) and terrible for birds, which were few and far between. But - I did get a pretty awesome life chocolate - Blue Whale. We saw at least 6 of these giants off Santa Cruz county.

Blue Whale - silvery-blue in color, with tiny dorsal fin

The largest known animal to have ever existed on the planet

As we're heading back, Debi asked me how my Mountain Quail trip with Bob Barnes worked out. I told her it was a lot of fun, Bob was fantastic, and we saw some great birds - the only thing that would, perhaps, have made it even better was *actually* seeing or hearing a Mountain Quail. And then Debi starts doing what everyone else does when I tell them about my nemesis - they describe their own secret spot for the birds. It seems that everyone has a Mountain Quail spot. Everyone, that is, except me. 

Debi's treasure map for Mountain Quail

I have the next day free - which I was going to spend hunting for quail back at the Piute Mountains. But Debi's place is 1.5 hours away, compared to 5 hours. Oh well - I'll probably miss them at either place, so might as well try the closer!

I leave Fisherman's Wharf in Monterey by late afternoon. My plan is to scope out Debi's site - Tassajara Road - before dark and then come back in the morning when the quail might be more active.

The road is unpaved, and steep in places as it winds up into the mountains of central Monterey County. I pass a busy campsite on the way, open meadows and heavily wooded hillsides. I'm about 10 miles up when I stop enjoying the view, and remember why I'm here - Mountain Quail. Must focus! I start imagining what it would be like to actually see one - turning a bend, and suddenly discovering one crossing the dirt road. And as I'm having this exact thought, imagination and reality suddenly fuse: as I turn the corner, there is a quail standing on the side of the road. I slam on the brakes just as it starts running to the other side of the road and disappearing up into a thickly-wooded slope. Wow - a quail! Could it be Mountain Quail? As I'm thinking this, another pops out, standing long enough for me to get my binoculars on it and see the diagnostic white vertical stripes on the burgundy flanks. Mountain Quail! And then it quickly follows the first. Where's my camera? Up pops another quail. Damn - where *is* my camera? And away up the slope. And another! My camera? There it is. And another appears! Remove lens cap.... 

Eight (!) Mountain Quail cross the road as I'm fumbling between binoculars, camera and the thought that I'm actually seeing Mountain Quail. I never do manage to get a photo, and searching around up the slope is hopeless - the vegetation is too thick to see them and too steep for me to clamber up. But they do leave behind one clue that I didn't just imagine the whole thing...

Mountain Quail footprints!

And this is where it all happened...

No - not an ad for the Ford Fusion (although it was a very comfortable car!) 

- but the location of the Mountain Quail road crossing drama

Hoping for more after such a tantalizing view, I sleep on the mountain and try again in the morning. As I'm driving up the road I meet a Fish and Wildlife ranger who tells me today is going to be busy: it's opening day for deer season. He asks if that's why I'm here.

"No - I'm looking for Mountain Quail." 

"Oh, I haven't seen one of those for years. Are you sure they're here?" 

I hope so! I'm pretty sure I wasn't imagining yesterday's encounter. Well - I was imagining it, but also seeing it, kind of both at the same...wait, this wasn't the time for this type of conversation. I left the guy sitting in his truck while I drove further up the mountain. 

The rest of the mountain was pretty quiet, and I turned round before the road started disintegrating. The ranger was still parked where I left him. This time though, he's waving frantically at me: "I just saw two of them!" What? "They crossed the road. Less than a minute ago!"

I drove near where he'd seen them disappear and waited. They never did come out, but I could hear their soft contact calls deep within the foliage. 

And on the way back, I stopped at the place I'd seen them last night. And this time I heard it, the loud call of the male Mountain Quail, "quee-ark!" 

Thank you, Debi! My nemesis is finally over. Wasn't there some idiotic hipster dufus who recently suggested that Mountain Quail were extinct?! I'd seen them, and heard contact calls and the male song. Definitely not extinct. I didn't, however, find the Sasquatch - but then, I didn't go all the way to the end of the road.

Mountain Quail is #699 for the year - although, if the Rufous-necked Wood-rail is accepted, it would be #700. After the many, many hours of Mountain Quail chasing this year, I couldn't think of a more fitting bird for such a milestone.

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BIG YEAR LIST: 699

NEW YEAR BIRDS (1): Mountain Quail

MOUNTAIN QUAIL EXTINCTION SHOCKER!

Shocking news for the birding world this week as Mountain Quail - a small confiding ground bird of the west -  has officially been declared extinct. Experts have been surprised at the unprecedented speed of the population decline - a bird that, only a few hours ago, was so common that the ABA listed it as code 1 (abundant.). Sadly, today the Mountain Quail is no longer to be found in the wild in North America.

The extensive research is based on hours* of meticulous driving through much of the range of Mountain Quail** by Neil Hayward. 

Piute Mountain Road - Kern Co, CA

He was joined by Mountain Quail expert Bob Barnes - birder extraordinaire of Kern County, CA. Bob used to see or hear these birds "every week of the year." That is, until today, when, shockingly, Mountain Quails were neither seen nor heard. In a statement released later in the day Bob explained that he was "very surprised." Bob had been so confident of the continued survival of this species that he had "all but guaranteed" a sighting for Big Year birder, Neil Hayward.

Neil was philosophical about the extinction, "Yeah - grouse and quails are notoriously difficult to see. I knew that at the beginning of my big year. They're just so goddam sneaky. I'm totally not surprised that one of them has deliberating decided to pull an extinction on me during my Big Year. That's totally like grouse." Asked how this has affected his Big Year, "Well, obviously this is huge. This is the difference between seeing a whole bunch of birds, and seeing a whole bunch of birds plus one. But, you know, that's life. You just have to move past these disasters."

But it may not be all bad news for the quail. Cincinnati Zoo have a small number of the birds in captivity and there's hope for a reintroduction program. And of course Cincinnati has an excellent track record - the now widespread Passenger Pigeon was brought back from the brink of extinction through just such a breeding program at this zoo in 1914.

One silver lining to driving up and down the Piute Mountains was the sighing of California Thrasher…

California Thrasher - definitely alive and not extinct on July 30

So what's next for Neil in his Big Year?

"When I flew out to CA, I didn't have a return ticket. I didn't know where I'd be going next. Now there's a rare Berylline Hummingbird back in Arizona [ed - where Neil had just flown from to CA] and I'm on a flight to Tucson first thing tomorrow morning."

Neil was very excited about his luxury hotel option tonight - "Hotel SFO - Gate 28"

In-room facilities include odors of Cinnabon, $8 beer and fun games such as "find the outlet."

* 6 of them

** 10 miles

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BIG YEAR LIST: 695

NEW YEAR BIRDS (1): California Thrasher

MOUNTING QUAIL FRUSTRATION

I remember when I first started thinking about doing a Big Year (ideally, and unlike me, you should do this *before* your big year actually starts.) I was excited leafing through the National Geographic field guide, and thinking about all the exciting birds I'd see. Warblers! Hawks! Sparrows! Wow - all those cute owls! And then I got to the grouse and quails, and I slammed the book shut. 

Grouse. Photo taken just moments before book shutting, 

which was too violent to show.

The grouse and quail are like teenagers - they take up all your time, money and resources, they live in their bedrooms and you never see them (I don't have any teenagers, but I did used to be one at an earlier stage of my life. And before I get any comments, I'm not suggesting that grouse actually have bedrooms. It's an analogy. Admittedly, not a great one.) 

How did these birds get such a bad rap? You've seen the photos - they're adorably pretty. But I wasn't picturing enjoying the foot-stomping, head-pumping dance of the Greater Prairie-chicken or the furry feet of a ptarmigan. I was thinking of the many, many very early mornings walking / driving / hiking through forests / mountains / deserts / urban back alleys, which, if I was *extremely* lucky I might get to see the tail end of a bird as it flushed and flew away to hide somewhere else. Unlike the pigeons in Seinfeld, with whom we have a deal (they get out of the road before we run them over) we have no deal with these birds - instead, they seem to put all their energy into a great game of hide-and-seek. And I knew a lot of my Big Year would be spent doing the seeking. Which brings me back to California, and the end of my trip. The last days would be devoted to looking for Mountain Quail, Sooty Grouse and Chukar - pros among the grouse at playing hide-and-seek.

If you look on eBird, Mountain Quail is common. If you're on a rocky hillside above 2,000 ft, in the west, there's probably a Mountain Quail somewhere near you. Of course, that doesn't mean anything - you might as well be sea watching off the east coast. While you've been busy doing other things with your life, Mountain Quail have been putting all their energy into learning how to hide.

Our first stop is Arrastre Creek in the San Bernadino Mountains. Mountain Quails are *allegedly* so common here that there are even photos of them being eaten by rattle snakes (oh yeah, they're also pretty common here too.)

Based on my experience at Arrastre, here's a quick guide to birding the place. It's titled, "How Not to Look for Mountain Quail at Arrastre Creek" …

1. arrive at noon, when it's really, really hot and there are no birds

2. drive a new, shiny mid-size rental car along a road described in the guide book as suitable only for high-clearance vehicles

3. go on a Saturday, when all the locals are out testing their noisy motorbikes

4. leave all your water in the car when you're out looking for quail. Even better - don't take any water with you at all. Water is for losers!

5. go with someone who's never seen a Mountain Quail before, and who's not doing a Big Year, and then head off in different directions. This is an absolutely guaranteed way for them to see the bird and for you not to.

6. go back the next day and repeat all the above. This time though, neither of you will see the bird, and you'll only smash up your car some more*

Not looking at a Mountain Quail at Arrastre Creek.

That's right, Gerri saw the bird and I didn't. What did you ask? Could I trade a bird with her? Well, I've seen two Gyrfalcons this year, and Gerri hasn't seen any. Surely a Gyrfalcon is worth at least a lousy Mountain Quail? Unfortunately, I looked through the ABA listing rules, and couldn't find a section on bird trading.

[* If you work for a car rental company at SFO that rhymes with "shifty" and you've found this blog by googling "massive underside damage to Mazda - how the hell did this happen?" then the above account is, of course, entirely hypothetical.]

We left Arrastre and headed north to Kern County, to a place in the middle of the Mojave Desert called Galileo Hill that's "reliable" for Chukar. Unlike Mountain Quail Chukar is an introduced species from the Middle East and Asia. Galileo Hill overlooks a resort community called Silver Saddle. Apparently, the Chukar like walking all over the hill and coming down occasionally to enjoy the shade of the resort trees. 

The approach to Galileo Hill through the Mojave Desert.

Silver Saddle is beautiful and probably a fun place to stay. There's lots to do - tennis, golf, a restaurant, bar, pool tables, etc. Only there's no-one there to do it with. The buildings were all open, but the whole place was eerily empty, except for a very hot black cat, whining at the entrance to the club house. The menus were lying open on tables in the restaurant, the bar was open, a TV was reporting the local weather (hot again), cupboards were open exposing all manner of potential freebies (a lifetime supply of tampons, anyone?) It was like a zombie apocalypse. But without the zombies. 

In the last building we check, we finally hear a voice. It's a woman on the phone. Based on her expression, our looks betray our mixed emotions - the excitement at finally finding a human here, and disappointment that the zombie apocalypse still hasn't happened. (Which reminds me, when are we getting those flying cars?) But she does grant us our wish - to bird around the site. Though she's not sure what a Chukar is, and evidently decides it's best not to ask.

We drive half-way up the dry and hot hill. No Chukar. Thinking they might be relaxing under the trees below, we drive around the campground. After about 10 minutes, I spot silhouettes under a nearby tree and slam on the brakes. Chukar! The birds start running away. I jump out of the car in pursuit. Before the birds decide to swap leg for wing transportation I manage to get a quick photo:

Chukar. Quick - where can we hide now? 

It wasn't much of a look, but much better than the no view I was expecting. And after 2 days at Arrastre, we were due some good grouse luck! What a great day!

"Turn right for Chukar"

We then ruined a great day by looking for Mountain Quail again. This time at Butterbredt Springs, up in the southern Sierra Nevada. 

Unlike Arrastre, the dirt / sand road to get here, although very steep, is fantastic and doesn't fill you with dread about being stranded in the desert. What it does share with Arrastre though is a complete lack of Mountain Quails. It does have California Quail though, which got me very excited before getting me very angry.

Butterbredt - a natural spring in the desert mountains. 
Would be even more pretty if there were Mountain Quails running around at your feet.

We find a motel in nearby Mojave, but it's too late for any respectable food establishment to be open. (Jack in the Box was open all night.) Dinner tonight is thus a culinary compromise:

On the menu tonight: microwaved gas station burrito (lacking any of the advertised filling), nuts and a beer.

We awake at 4:30am to repeat the Butterbredt Springs experience - right down to the not getting any Mountain Quail detail. 

The rest of the day we head north towards Yosemite, around the eastern side of the Sierra Nevada. On the way we stop at Whitney Portal in the Sequoia National Park. This is the southern limit of the Sooty Grouse, and is apparently a good place for them. The Mount Whitney Trailhead is a human zoo. It's the end point for a mountain run (although all the "runners" seem to be walking) and the start of a steep, winding trail that's thick with hikers. It's close to mid-day, and I'm thinking that our timing may not be ideal. But, it's a beautiful view, so we join the hiking crowd and slowly make our ascent.

View from the Mount Whitney Trail.

After 2.5 miles, we're hot and sweaty, and wishing we'd brought more water. We've seen Mountain Chickadees and plenty of Steller's Jays... 

Steller's Jay 

As I'm scanning the mountainside wondering how much further before we ascend above the tree line, I spot a large bird flying from the cliffs toward the trees above us. It's a shape I'm unfamiliar with, until I realize I'm looking at the underside of a flying grouse. Sooty Grouse! And then what looks like a baby version of this follows the same flight path. As soon as this one lands, another drops down. And another. I race up the hill to where they land. I stop short as I spot a bird on the trail…

Female Sooty Grouse. 

The mother is continually calling to her chicks, who soon appear on the trail too...

Thank you Dan King (San Diego) for suggesting Whitney Portal! That saved a lot of time in Oregon or crappy Washington State! 

Mount Whitney Portal Trail. Reliable for Sooty Grouse!

An early start the next day finds us driving through Yosemite National Park. Instead of taking time - like all the other sensible people - to enjoy Half Dome and El Capitan we decide to entirely waste our allotted time checking out some spots for Mountain Quail. 

On this trip we've spent over 12 hours walking through Mountain Quail locations and not heard or seen a single bird (except for Gerri's badly-timed sighting.) Welcome to my new nemesis bird!

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BIG YEAR LIST: 684 + 1 provisional

NEW YEAR BIRDS (2): Chukar, Sooty Grouse