This article was also published in The Blue Bill, the Quarterly Journal of the Kingston Field Naturalists, Volume 67, No 1, March 2020.
If I had to pick a single technique that made a dramatic improvement to my capability as a wildlife photographer, I would choose Back-button Focus. It’s a technique used by professional wildlife and sports photographers, and can help you take your photography to a higher level.
It starts with the recognition that crisp focus is perhaps
the single most important quality of a good photograph.
Autofocus
Because focus is so central to photography, camera manufacturers have developed ways to make it easier to get an in-focus image. Any camera produced in the last 20 years has the ability to focus automatically – indeed autofocus is the default option, and may have to be turned off if you wish to focus manually.
Autofocus is engaged when you press down on the shutter release. This happens so quickly some beginning photographers don’t even realize it is happening, but with practise most people learn that if they depress the shutter release halfway they can focus the camera without taking a picture.
Typical DSLR – Nikon D5300
Back-button focus
For most types of photography having the autofocus engage when you press the shutter release makes life easier – a single action both focuses the image and releases the shutter. Wildlife photography, though, has its own requirements and many wildlife photographers find that the simple shutter release/autofocus approach actually creates problems.
Instead they use back-button focus, where the autofocus function is disconnected from the shutter release and assigned to a different button.
I am not going to explain how to do this. Each camera system has its own way of assigning buttons, and you will need to consult your manual to learn how to make the change on your camera. Instead, I am going to explain why you might want to make this change.
Targets obscured by foliage
If you have spent any time trying to photograph birds in the wild I am sure you will have had this experience. You are trying to capture an image of a bird roosting in a tree within a tangle of branches, twigs and leaves. You can see the bird clearly, but frustration creeps in because each time you take a shot the camera focuses on a different one of the surrounding twigs and only occasionally on the bird.
For all the capabilities of modern autofocus systems, remember that they are not actually intelligent – they try to guess what you want to focus on but they are frequently wrong.
My eye sees the bird, but the camera decides that I want to focus on a vine.
Using back-button focus can solve this problem. You centre your camera on the bird and engage the focus. You may have to do this a number of times until the focus point is actually on the bird. In cases where there is a lot of background clutter you may even have to use manual focus. But the key point is this: once you are focused on the right point you can shoot as many images as you want without the camera trying to refocus each time. As long as you stay at approximately the same distance from the bird it will remain in focus. The camera will not be able to “help” by randomly changing the focus point.
Now that’s better. Sooty-capped Hermit, nr Monterrey, Casanare, Colombia, 5 Feb 2020
And even if you have to move slightly to get a better angle, if you engage autofocus again it will most likely zero in on the bird because it will be the closest object to the focus point.
I think you will find that once you try this technique you will be reluctant to go back to shutter release focus. Time that you might have wasted in focusing and refocusing can be spent on adjusting ISO and shutter speed and choosing the right moment to shoot.
Focus and reframe
Wildlife photographers often find that they want the focus point of an image to be off-centre. There are two main situations where this occurs:
Large or close-in target
Say you have a chance to see a Moose at fairly close range. You want to capture the whole beast in an image, without cutting off its tail or legs. But you also want your focus point to be on the eye, as tends to create the most compelling image. And not surprisingly, the Moose’s eye is at one side of the image.
Composition
You have a bird in your sights but you want to frame the
image so that the bird is off-centre. You might want to better show its within
its habitat, or to give it some open space in front of it, or just because
people are more attracted to images where the main points of interest are
off-centre.[1]
In these situations back-button focus is your friend. It
allows you to focus on the desired point, and then without changing focus
reframe the image by moving the camera until you get the result you want.
Purple Finch surveys his domain. Renfrew County, Ontario, Canada, 19 Jun 2019
Note that landscape and portrait photographers deal with this need by manually adjusting the camera’s focus point. In principle this would also work for wildlife photographers, but in my experience the focus and reframe method is much more intuitive and much faster to use. For subjects that tend to move suddenly and unpredictably I think it provides better results. Moreover it allows you to set your camera adjusted to centre point focus, which is the most accurate autofocus mode.
Continuous autofocus
For moving targets, such as a bird in flight, holding down the back button allows you to keep it continuously in focus while you wait the right moment to shoot – such as when it banks to show its upper wings. You can also hold focus on a stationary target, and you will be in focus when it pounces, takes off, or otherwise moves suddenly. Without holding focus the camera will need to refocus at the critical moment, with unpredictable results.
Battle is joined. Greater Prairie Chicken, Nebraska, USA, 2 Apr 2017
In principle you could also accomplish this by holding the
shutter release halfway down, but in the real world of wildlife photography,
where you will often be wearing gloves and your hands may be stiff from the
cold, using a separate button removes the need for such fine motor control.
Of course you could just “spray and pray”, firing off twenty
images at high speed and hoping one of them works. As long as you don’t mind
everyone nearby assuming that you are clueless. 😊
Back-button focus – further advantages
While the above points are the key reasons for adopting
back-button focus, there are a few minor advantages as well:
If you are using manual focus, you won’t then risk spoiling your
own efforts when it’s time to press the shutter release.
Use of back-button focus reduces battery drain somewhat. Unlike
shutter release focus it doesn’t automatically engage the lens’s image
stabilization/vibration reduction motors.
The downsides?
Back-button focus is possible on most DSLRs and mirrorless
cameras, but it may not be possible if you are using a bridge or superzoom
camera. Check your manual to see if you can use this function.
And if you ask someone to take a picture using your camera, don’t expect great results. You can explain carefully the need to press the focus button and then press the shutter release, but I find that most people don’t “get” this and the images tend to be out of focus.
Anthony, and Ken with local first nations guides Miguel and Florencio. Colombia 2020
I recently started teaching a Birding 101 course at the Seniors’ Centre in Kingston. Since the students are like me – late-onset birders – one of the points I wanted to focus on is how to accelerate their acquisition of birding skills and knowledge.
Most of my birding friends have been “in the game” since childhood, and they have often lived in the same area for many years, so their knowledge of everything bird-related is vast. They know all the calls, squeaks and squawks of birds both common and scarce, they know where and when to look, and their skills at identifying birds are honed by many years in the field.
Every time I go out birding with these people I learn something new. But how does someone become a good birder if they haven’t yet become friends with one of the Jedi Masters?
The obvious answers are (1) do your homework (study bird books, listen to tapes), and (2) spend a lot of time in the field. But I am a firm believer in my #3 recommendation: find a good birding guide and join some of their trips. I think this is one of the best and fastest ways to improve your knowledge and birding skills.
Think of birding guides as the personal trainers of the birding world. You wouldn’t start golfing without a few lessons and tips from the golf pro, nor would you take up skiing by reading a few books and watching YouTube videos. So why wouldn’t you take advantage of expertise in the birding world?
Overseas Guides
For overseas trips, this is a no-brainer. Local guides know where to go, recognize calls and habits, plan for food and accommodation, provide a vehicle, know how to drive in the environment, know the history and current events of the country, and non-trivially, recognize warning signs and know where not to go.
The advent of E-Bird and other bird-finding services means that you could travel to foreign lands without local knowledge, and some folks do. If your group includes a couple of burly and fairly menacing lads, so much the better. But when you look at the cost of flights, living expenses, and vehicle rental, and then calculate that you are likely to see twice as many species if you have a guide, to me the extra outlay makes sense. If I were 25 and had a full lifetime ahead of me I might think about this differently. But I have more money than I did when I was 25 and fewer years ahead in which to enjoy it, so guided trips are the way forward.
Closer to home…
Many people happily attend birding trips in their local areas organized by nature clubs, but I often get a puzzled look when I suggest that they should also consider working with a professional guide – as if “guide” has to exist in the context of travel to exotic lands. But for the beginning or intermediate birder, many of the same benefits that come from using professional guides apply equally to birding trips in their home province.
Guides have extensive knowledge of where to go and when to go there to maximize opportunities. With guides I have visited a number of little-known but productive sites for hard-to-find bird species in Ontario, and these trips were scheduled to coincide with the times when the bird was most likely to be seen.
Good guides also have an uncanny ability to recognize that an important bird is nearby, and great skills at locating it. Equally importantly, a good guide will ensure that everyone in the group has a chance to see the birds. This is not always the case in non-commercial birding trips, where beginners in particular may be frustrated by the tendency of the expert birders to speed by the more common species in search of more interesting fare.
The best guides are true “bird nerds”, and are willing to share their knowledge of all aspects of avian ecology, including feeding habits, breeding behaviour, and migration patterns. I have learned a lot about birds from people whose obsession is even greater than mine.
Finding a guide
So how to find a good guide? Personal recommendations are the most reliable method and I will give you a few of mine in a moment. But failing that, as with all things, Google is your friend. Search terms like “birding Ontario” or “Puerto Rico bird guides” should get you on the right track.
The websites of good guides and guiding organizations tend to contain the same sorts of information. You should expect to see specifics on their tours (dates, itinerary, costs). There should also trip reports from previous tours, ideally with trip lists (lists of species seen). You can also check the web for ratings, bearing in mind the usual caveat that some people are very hard to please.
I tend to favour guides from the country I am visiting, if for no other reason than the fact that their overhead costs are lower: when you bird with one of the large American or British companies you are paying for a leader’s flights and living expenses, and then they will often rely on the services of a local guide. If you can find that local guide you can cut out the middleman.
At the end of your search you have to make a leap of faith that your guide will be a good one, but I know of only a few cases where people were seriously disappointed. A poor guide will not last long in a competitive business. And part of the reason that the large global birding companies – operations such as Field Guides and Birdquest – are popular is that the likelihood of a poor experience is very low.
Recommended Guides
Let me save you some searching effort by suggesting these people, all of whom I have birded with and highly recommend. (And note that I do not receive any benefit for listing them here – though I am open to any free birding trips that might be offered. 😉)
Daniel is my guy in Colombia. I have been birding with him on four trips for a total of about eight weeks. Expert birder, safe driver, super organized and good company. My Colombia life list of 882 species speaks for itself.
On a trip to Tucson I had only one day to dedicate to birding. Melody led me on a fast-paced adventure to see a large number of Arizona specialties. Expert birder, safe driver… do you detect a theme here?
Josele was an outstanding guide but sadly I have just learned that for health reasons he has had to stop leading tours. This is a great loss. I believe he still operates his guest house in the Pyrenees where a number of great birds can be seen.
Predators was the local subcontractor for our trip to Tanzania, and they planned and executed a great trip. Joseph was one of our driver-guides and if you decide to go with Predators you should ask for him. Expert in all types of wildlife in the area, but he definitely has an eye for birds
I have not birded with the Burrell brothers (Mike and Ken) but they are expert birders and good folk so I am very confident that their trips would be excellent. They are co-authors of the recent book Best Places to Bird in Ontario.
British Columbia:
Jim Palmer is a young biologist just starting out in the guiding business. I have good reports about him. james.palmer.ubc@gmail.com
E-Bird tells me I saw 665 bird species last year, a new personal best. Many excellent birds went into this list: gaudy tropical beasts like Motmots, skulking antbirds, and glorious migrant warblers. But what stands out most in my memory are the bird experiences – those special birding moments where everything comes together to make a truly memorable sighting. Herewith are my top ten birding moments in chronological order.
January 26, Amherst Island, Ontario
I was out looking for winter birds with Bruce Kirkland and Rachel Sa. We were stopped by the side of the road to look at a flock of Redpolls when Rachel saw something that looked like an owl fly into a tree. We got the scope out and sure enough we could see a small owl head peering out of the bush. High fives were in order – Short-eared Owls are not an easy bird to see in Ontario. Then a Bald Eagle passed over and all hell broke loose. Nineteen(!) Short-eared Owls exploded out of the tree and swirled madly around for a couple of minutes before settling down, each one to its own fencepost. It turns out there were over 50 Short-ears on the island, feasting on the plentiful voles, but to see nineteen at once was a special birding moment.
Owl at periscope depth
Owl pandemonium
20 March, Ecolodge la Minga, Valle de Cauca, Colombia
The first stop on our Colombian expedition was this homey lodge in the foothills of the Western Andes. We spent the morning walking the entrance road and saw plenty of great birds, but then we arrived at the lodge. All thoughts of lunch were quickly pushed to the side as we drank in the hordes of avian jewels feasting on the flowering plants and fruit that the owners had provided. Within minutes I had seen my target bird for the whole trip – Multicolored Tanager, so everything after that was gravy. And very tasty gravy at that!
Multicolored Tanager
Booted Racket-tail
Masked Flowerpiercer
21 March, Bosque de San Antonio/Km 18, Valle de Cauca, Colombia
Sometimes great birding moments come in retrospect. We had heard Nariño Tapaculos calling at Ecolodge La Minga, but Tapaculos are small, dark, mouse-like skulking birds of the undergrowth so one rarely gets the chance to actually see them. But at this legendary birding site I managed to catch a quick glimpse of a calling bird. Not a big deal in itself, but the great birding moment came at my desk at home, when I worked out that this was life bird #1500 for me.
22 March, RN Laguna de Sonso, Valle de Cauca, Colombia
A great day at this very birdy marsh was capped off by a brief but clear look at a Sungrebe as it snuck across a short channel and disappeared into the reedbed. Sungrebes are uncommon and extraordinarily shy. Ken Edwards is a much more experienced tropical birder than I, and Daniel Uribe Restrepo is an ornithologist and full-time guide who has spent his entire life in Colombia, and yet this was a life bird for all three of us. Happiness abounded.
Oh yes old chap. We are a bit chuffed.
28 March, PNN Los Nevados, Caldas, Colombia
When I was studying field guides for my first trip to Colombia the Black-chested Buzzard Eagle caught my eye, and I added it to my mental most-desired list. In 2017 we spent some time in the right habitat, but no Buzzard Eagles were forthcoming. Cut to this year and we are 14,000 feet up in the Central Andes, waiting for a Buffy Helmetcrest to show up. In the far distance we spot two large raptors soaring. Scope views allow us to ID them as Black-chested Buzzard Eagles, but after a while it becomes clear that they have no intention of moving any closer.
So it’s a solid “tick” but a better view is needed to quench my Buzzard Eagle longings. Maybe next year. Or maybe later that day! Just before quitting time we were scanning the paramo looking for small seedeaters and looked up in time to see two majestic buzzard eagles silently cruising by about 20 feet above our heads. Gob-smacked we were. A great finish to that day’s excursion.
Paramo.
1 April, road from Riosucio to Jardin, Antioquia, Colombia
This was not a fun day as Montezuma was busy having his revenge on me. I tried to keep my whimpering to a minimum as we clambered up a steep mountain trail in the company of Doña Lucía, a local farmer. Years of patient work had allowed her to convince some Antpittas that she was a reliable and non-threatening source of their favourite delicacy: earthworms. So we got to the right spot, she called, and after a bit a couple of Chestnut-naped Antpittas emerged. Antpittas are proper unicorn birds, and any sighting is great, but to see them hopping onto peoples’ hands to nab worms was epic. Sadly I could not participate in the actual feeding as I needed to be able to dash into the bushes at a moment’s notice, but I got some really great still and video images, and even better memories.
Chestnut-naped Antpitta
Daniel and friend
1 April, Jardin
Later that day we made our way into the city of Jardin to visit a Cock of the Rock lek. This did not exactly test our birding skills – we went to the house, paid our entrance fee, and wandered down to the lekking trees. But the sight of those bizarrely gorgeous birds hopping, bowing, squawking and shrieking, all in hopes of impressing the ladies, was truly fine.
9 May, Point Pelee National Park, Ontario
The great Reverse Migration. A truly epic experience as thousands of birds, fleeing an incoming storm, streamed by on their way back to the US. Photos and the full story are here. I can envision a day twenty years from now where a group of birders encounter a gruff, grizzled bloke with weather-faded gear and a thousand-yard stare. They will say in hushed voices – “he was at the reverse migration of 2019”. 😊
4 July, Cape St Mary’s, Newfoundland
For my first trip to Newfoundland I was strongly advised to visit the Northern Gannet colony at Cape St Mary’s. It was a bit of a hike, but I am quite partial to Gannets so it seemed worth checking out. So after doing a bit of whale and Puffin watching in Witless Bay we headed south to the end of the road. Cape St Mary’s lived up to its billing as the best site anywhere for viewing Gannets at close range. Over 20,000 pairs nest on the sea stack and surrounding cliffs, and they are supremely not bothered by people staring at them from 30m away. Also crammed onto every available ledge were thousands of Guillemots and many hundreds of Razorbills and Black-legged Kittiwakes.
And as it turns out, also one lone Thick-billed Murre, at the far southernmost end of its breeding range. I saw a slightly odd-looking Guillemot and suspected that it might be a ringer Knowing that Thick-billed Murre was possible, I decided to wait until the sleeping bird raised its head from under its wing so I could see the diagnostic mark on the bill. For a full 45 minutes the pesky creature didn’t budge, but finally it took a look around and revealed its thick-billedness. So a day that started with Humpback Whales and Puffins and ended with epic views of Gannets and their pelagic friends was capped off by a new life bird. Not to mention a tasty lunch at St Bride’s.
Thick-billed Murre (l)
31 December, Presqu’ile Provincial Park, Ontario
For reasons that are not entirely clear I have an inordinate fondness for Purple Sandpipers. Perhaps it’s because they are scarce and a bit elusive; perhaps because my first sighting was special. We were on a very pleasant driving tour through Scotland and I stepped out of the B&B on Islay to see two of the blighters playing in the kelp on the other side of the road. In any case I like them and was keen to add them to my Ontario (and Canada) list.
Typically that means wading out to Gull Island in late November in the hopes that this is the one day when a small southbound flock will stop for a snack. This year there were tantalizing reports of a trio hanging out at Owen Point. Family and social responsibilities kept me away, but finally on the last day of the year I decided to give it a shot. I arrived to a bleak and windswept scene populated by five long-tailed ducks and a Herring Gull. I scanned the area thoroughly with no luck. Then a snow squall kicked in. With melting snow starting to infiltrate my pricey camera equipment, and no reasonable prospect of success I considered packing it in.
Then fate intervened in the guise of one Kyle Horner, who had seen the birds earlier in the morning and posted a report on the OntBirds bird alert site. Knowing that they were likely still around, I redoubled my efforts and soon spotted small bird-like heads popping up and down behind an algae berm. Shortly thereafter the birds emerged and good views were had. After snapping off a number of shots I took a deep breath, remembered my own advice, and set a shutter speed fast enough to capture them as they frenetically dashed about. The results are below in all their rain-spattered glory. And just to cap off this tale, the Purple Sandpipers were the 300th bird species I have seen in Ontario.
Purple Sandpiper and admirer
So for all the great birds I was privileged to see last year, it is these birding moments that will remain clearest in my memory. Thanks to the birds, and thanks to the companions who shared the moments with me.
A large population of Emerald Shiner minnows migrates through the Niagara Gorge in December, seeking the warmer waters of Lake Erie. This concentration of tasty treats attracts an influx of predators, including Steelhead, Brown and Lake Trout, Pickerel and Muskellunge. It also forms a buffet for vast swarms of gulls, and when stormy weather drives birds in off the lake it is often possible to pick out rare and exotic gulls lurking amongst the hordes. And swarms of birds attract swarms of birders.
The Approach March
The first weekend in December 2019 was cool, with high winds and freezing rain in the forecast. Sensible people were staying indoors, but fifty or sixty hardy birders descended on Niagara Falls to take part in the Ontario Field Ornithologists’ (OFO) annual Gull Weekend. There were gull lectures, gull quizzes, an advanced gull identification workshop, and of course, lots and lots of gulls.
For the second year running (which qualifies it as an annual tradition) I linked up with Bruce Kirkland to make the trek to Niagara. We made a brief stop in Burlington to seek out a lone King Eider that had been hanging around with Long-tailed Ducks at the lift bridge. The eider was eventually spotted, though I was insufficiently organized to get a photo before it blended in with the 2,000 other ducks loafing in the ship canal. However I did get some smashing photos of Long-tailed Ducks and a decent shot of a Surf Scoter so all was well. Or so we thought…
Our next stop was Niagara-on-the-Lake. It’s a small tourist town with more tweeness per capita than anywhere else in Canada, thus normally to be avoided, but it sits at the mouth of the Niagara River so it’s an ideal spot to watch gulls as they stream out at the end of the day to roost on the lake. A rare vagrant Black-headed Gull was known to be in the area so it seemed a likely spot to try our luck. And sure enough when we arrived there were ten or so birders peering intently over the water.
Early Setbacks
Traditionally there is no more dreaded phrase in the birders’ lexicon than “you should have been here ten minutes ago”. This signals that the bird you were after has decamped, probably never to be seen again. However with the advent of modern technology, including time/date stamps on camera images, we can now state with some bitterness that “you should have been here four minutes ago” is infinitely more painful.
We dutifully set up our scopes and peered into the gloom for 45 minutes. Thousands of Bonaparte’s Gulls streamed by, which would normally be a wonderful spectacle but we were not to be mollified. There were even a few Little Gulls among them, which we could pick out by their very dark underwings. Little Gull sightings are not easy to come by in Ontario – these were my first ones in 2019 – but still we remained dejected. One fewer red light on the way and we would have had our quarry.
When it was finally too dark to see we repaired to the Sandtrap Pub and Grill for dinner. After a couple of pints of very pleasant Niagara College Butler’s Bitter I adopted a more philosophical attitude. The bird was still extant; we just had to find it in the next 36 hours.
The Hunt
The plan for Saturday had been to join the Peninsula Field Naturalists for a birding walk in the Welland area. But Bruce and I were now seized with the desire to “get” the Black-headed Gull so we set off to do the Niagara stations of the cross – a series of viewpoints where you can stand in the cold wind and stare down into the Gorge, searching among the Larid[1] multitudes for the one slightly different bird.
One of these things is not like the others…
The weather was decent – sunny, but with the usual cold wind ripping down the gorge. We visited such delights as the whirlpool, the Adam Beck power plant, the Queenston Heights lookout, the Queenston boat dock and the upper control gates, and carefully scanned thousands of gulls for the slight variation in field marks that sets apart a Black-headed Gull from its Bonaparte cousins.
Gull ID 101
In winter plumage the differences between these beasties are:
The Black-headed Gull is slightly bigger: its wingspan averages 100cm vs 84cm for a Bonaparte’s. This sounds like a lot, but when viewing moving gulls at a slant range of 300+ metres the difference does not exactly jump out at you;
The bill of the Black-headed is red in the summer and reddish-black in the winter whereas the Bonaparte’s bill is black year-round; and
The Black-headed has a greyish smudge on the underside of the primary flight feathers. This is absent on the Bonaparte’s. The field guides show this diagnostic mark as a black wedge, but as the picture below depicts on a winter-plumage gull it can be a lot less evident.
Wikimedia Commons: by Coolboycoolboy63 – own work (image cropped)
A whole day devoted to gull voyeurism netted us lots of good looks at gulls and a few other avian creatures, but our target remained elusive. Sunday would have to be the day, but the weather reports were ominous. A heavy lashing of freezing rain was not going to make life easier.
A rather late Carolina Wren came out to see what we were up to.
Closing In
First light on Sunday saw us back on the trail. Scattered reports from the day before led us to conclude that the whirlpool might be our best bet, so we started the morning vigil as the first wave of freezing rain descended. We gutted it out for a couple of hours before retreating to the hotel for an IHOP breakfast. It was only when we started the move that we realized how thickly the roads and sidewalks, not to mention our gear and clothing, were coated in sheet ice.
This made things slightly awkward, and after sliding safely into the hotel parking lot we learned that the QEW was closed and we weren’t going to make it back to Toronto and Kingston that day. So we reasoned that there was nowt else to do but go back out for another dose of eyestrain.
View of the whirlpool. Click to full size and you may be able to pick out the white dots of gulls n the water.
Targets Up!
And so it came to pass that on Sunday afternoon about 1320 we closed with our prey. I was scanning gulls on the water, hoping for one of them to lift its wings and show the dark primaries. The mighty Vortex Razor HD telescope should have been annoyed at me for letting it slam against the ground an hour or so earlier, but instead it allowed me to detect what I thought was just a hint of red on the bill of one specimen.
Vortex gear – built tough!
It was hardly a slam-dunk view but it was suspicious enough that as it lifted off I tracked it while shouting directions so that others could get onto it. The gull wheeled to dive on a minnow and as it did I did not see the hoped-for black wedge, just a slight darkening. It really didn’t look like the guidebook image at all, and I hesitated about whether I had seen enough to make the call. Fortunately, the third person out braving the whirlpool gale was one Jeremy Bensette, a crack birder who among other things set the new record for bird species seen in Ontario in a year. He had gotten onto the bird and confirmed its Black-headedness. So we spent the next ten minutes enjoying the view of this rare visitor, whilst dutifully getting the word out on e-Bird and the OFO listserv.
At this point, having seen all the possible target species, and with our way home blocked by weather, we concluded that the best course of action was a wee nap, a glass of wine, an excellent dinner, and then a leisurely gull-sated departure on the morrow.
Victory is sweet!
Niagara Gull Weekend – Bag List
Gulls seen on this trip:
Little Gull (3)
Black-headed Gull (1)
Bonaparte’s Gull (~6,000)
Ring-billed Gull (~100)
American Herring Gull (~600)
Iceland Gull (2)
Glaucous Gull (1)
Lesser Black-backed Gull (6)
Great Black-backed Gull (9)
[1]
Most of the world’s 55 gull species are members of the genus Larus.
Flushed with success at our capture (metaphorically speaking) of the Harris’s Sparrow, when a vagrant Spotted Towhee showed up at Prince Edward Point this week it seemed clear that we ought to go and pay this rare visitor to Southern Ontario a visit.
The bird met two of my three criteria for an off-year twitch: it was local (about an hour and a bit away). And it seemed likely to stick around. The finder – Paul Jones – had been observing it for a couple of days and it was making regular appearances to feed on some seed that Paul had thoughtfully provided.
The third criterion – that the bird be a lifer – was… problematic. I have seen the bird in its natural stomping grounds near Tucson, AZ. However, since this species had never been seen before in the Kingston 50km Circle, on mature reflection and in the interests of ornithology, and with no hint of self-interest, I waived the final requirement. And we were off.
The Chase
The search party – Jim Thompson, John Licharson and me – made good time and arrived at the designated spot at about 08:30. Two birders were already in position and another showed up at the same time we did. There was still seed on the road, the winds were light and variable, the temperature was somewhat clement at +30 C, and though cloudy there was no indication of rain. Now all we needed was for the bird to show up and all would be well.
So we waited.
And we waited.
The road, the seeds, but no Towhee.
Heat, and optimism, seeped gradually out of our bodies.
After about 90 minutes the aforementioned Paul Jones showed up. He showed us some photos he had taken of the bird at 06:45 that morning, and then noted ominously that up until now the bird had been showing up every 45 minutes or so.
So we waited some more.
A Great Blue Heron observes the odd behaviour of humans.
The Reward?
Finally we heard, off in the distance, a Spotted Towhee’s distinct call (which of course we had dutifully boned up on the night before).
The calls started getting closer and we moved out on an intercept course. The beast was spotted in a tree. We had time for quick looks and poor photographs as it carried on towards its target. We scampered back to the road just in time to see a pair of Merlins swoop low over the road.
Classic example of a “record photo”. With a bit of good will you could claim this as a Spotted Towhee.
Merlins, as you may know, are small falcons who primarily prey on small birds. So suddenly our heretofore highly vocal Towhee was silent, and we all envisioned it skulking off ne’er to be seen again.
Merlin, looking for lunch.
So we waited some more. To keep up morale I recounted the time I stood for five hours in a freezing wind waiting fruitlessly for a Ruff. Judging from the reaction this story was not as uplifting as I had hoped.
Finally, at about 10:56, the Towhee made its entrance. We had a few minutes to admire it before it retired into the scrub to digest its meal.
Spotted Towhee. Distinguished from Eastern Towhee by… C’mon now, you can get it!
So all in all this turned out to be a proper twitch. We had a longish and fairly uncomfortable wait, events seemed to conspire against us, but then through a combination of perseverance and luck we got the sighting and went home happy.
Two epic birds in two weeks. What’s next, you ask. Stay tuned!
After making a maximum effort in 2018 on the birding front, this year I have ratcheted back a bit. The main difference is the amount of effort I devoted to twitching rare birds. Last year I chased or went out of my way to find at least 14 birds, whereas in 2019, until last week anyway, I had only twitched one bird in Ontario.
That bird was a Hermit Warbler, which I thought worth going after because (a) it was a life bird for me, (b) it was less than two hours away, and (c) there was a reasonable probability that it would stay put.
So assuming that those are my 2019 criteria, when I got wind
of a Harris’s Sparrow visiting a feeder in The County[1],
I was tempted. The day was wintry with snow flurries forecasted so I might have
prevaricated a bit, but Jim Thompson was up for a try so off we went.
Harris’s Sparrow
Harris’s Sparrow is a prairie bird that breeds in northern Manitoba, Nunavut and the Northwest Territories. This makes it Canada’s only endemic breeder – i.e. a bird that only breeds in Canada. So I had to see one. For national pride, y’know. 😊
The beastie winters from South Dakota down to Texas. It is normally seen on migration, sometimes in large numbers, in the Rainy River district but it is a distinctly uncommon visitor to southern Ontario. Perhaps this one took a wrong turn near Albuquerque?
The Chase
On the way down we suffered the usual nameless dread of twitchers,
namely that the bird would not be there, or worse, was seen flying off south
ten minutes before we arrived. But this time at least it all turned out rather nicely.
Fifteen minutes after we arrived we had clocked the blighter, and it then
proceeded to hop around obligingly giving what my British friends would call “crippling
views”.
And a smart looking bird it was, in full adult non-breeding plumage.
Allowing for the fact that I am particularly partial to sparrows, this was a
really nice bird to see.
And the point is… ?
Nothing really. Just a nice bird so I wanted to put the photos up so my legion of followers could have a chance to appreciate the creature. 😊
In April 2019 Ken Edwards and I headed to Colombia for a tour focused on the endemic species of the Central and Western Andes. After a few adventures we arrived in Cali to be met by Daniel Uribe Restrepo, Executive Director of Birding Tours Colombia. We piled into his new 4X4 and headed into town for a late dinner and an early morning start.
La Minga
Our first port of call was La Minga Ecolodge, in the foothills of the Western Andes. Walking the mountain roads around the lodge produced some excellent finds including Golden-headed Quetzal, Andean Solitaire, a handful of foliage-gleaners, woodcreepers and treehunters, and the rather scarce Spotted Barbtail. At the lodge the feeders and gardens were buzzing with bird life. Hummingbirds included the charismatic Booted Racket-tail, Long-tailed Sylph and Andean Emerald, and there was a fine selection of tanagers. Multicoloured Tanager, my most-wanted bird of the trip, was in the bag by noon.
Multicoloured TanagerBooted Racket-tail
We continued our explorations in the afternoon, then went out
in the evening for a spot of owling. The gardens at the lodge were quite
accommodating – while sneaking up on a roosting Common Potoo we flushed a Common
Pauraque, and later we listened in on a territorial discussion between Mottled
Owls.
After a quick morning stroll along the roads (Chestnut Wood-Quail,
White-throated Quail-Dove), we headed off for Buga. Along the way we visited
Finca Alejandria, where pouring rain did not dissuade a range of birds from
showing off. Key birds included Red-headed Barbet and our first-of-many Andean
Motmots, but the star was the hard-to-find Blue-headed Sapphire. Further down
the road we visited Bosque de San Antonio, where we had great views of an
unusually confiding Colombian Chachalaca, the scarce Rufous-tailed Tyrant, as
well as a handful of tanagers and flycatchers and a nice White-naped
Brushfinch.
Blue-headed Sapphire
Sonso Marsh
After a good breakfast accompanied by Buff-necked Ibises and Blue-headed Parrots at the hotel in Buga, we moved to the conservation area at Sonso Marsh. This is a great area of ponds, wetlands and dry forest, and we spent a pleasant three hours ticking off 65 species therein. The bird of the day was definitely the shy and skulking Sungrebe, which gave us a full five seconds of view as it scuttled across an opening and disappeared into the reeds. It was a life bird for all of us, and a round of high-fives ensued.
Ken and Daniel post-Sungrebe, looking rather pleased.
Other great birds included Anhingas, two of which we spotted soaring in a kettle of Black Vultures; seven species of herons; a smattering of warblers; showy Jet Antbirds; Snail Kites and about one zillion (or 60+ anyway) Spectacled Parrotlets who were nesting in the bamboo roofs of the buildings. Our next site was the Montezuma Rainforest Lodge on the Pacific slope of the Western Andes, so a long road move was in the cards. We stopped for breaks at a couple of small but bird-full wetlands along the way, passed through Pueblo Rico (which is not really a village and certainly not rich), and finally rolled into the lodge at dinnertime.
Snail Kite. If I were a snail I would be keeping a low profile.
PNN Tatamá / Cerro Montezuma
The Lodge is in the heart of the Tatamá National Park, about 52,000 hectares of almost undisturbed rainforest. Birding is done along a rough track that leads up towards the summit of Cerro Montezuma (Montezuma Peak). On our first day at the lodge we girded our loins and departed in the wee hours for the long bumpy ride to the top.
The early start was necessary to have a shot at the skulking
Munchique Wood-Wren. The birding gods were in good mood that day and we soon heard
the beasts, and shortly after had decent views of a pair. Thus fortified we
carried on to the top, where the lodge staff keep a set of well-attended hummingbird
feeders. We gorged (metaphorically) on Empress Brilliants, Violet-tailed Sylphs
and Rufous-gaped Hillstars, as well as our first sightings of the stunning
Velvet-purple Coronet. However, the stars were a pair of rare endemic species:
the endangered Chestnut-bellied Flowerpiercer and the critically endangered
Dusky Starfrontlet. The latter hummingbird was thought to be extinct until a
small population was discovered in 2004. These birds continue to cling onto
life as their favoured habitat disappears, so it was both exciting and sad to
see this brilliant bird at close range.
Munchique Wood-WrenRusty FlowerpiercerDusky Starfrontlet, also (and more aptly) called Glittering Starfrontlet
Cerro Montezuma – Day 2
The next day we worked the middle portion of the road,
feasting (again, metaphorically – no birds were hurt in the making of this
report) on such beauties as Buffy Tuftedcheek, Rufous Spinetail, Tricolored
Brushfinch, and the epic Crested Ant-Tanager (sort of like a Northern Cardinal
on meth). During one of the periodic downpours (there’s a reason they call it
rainforest) we took shelter in the vehicle. Only to protect the camera
equipment you understand. An extended nap ensued.
Lunch back at the lodge meant more hummingbird watching,
with Tawny-bellied Hermits, Green Thorntails, Crowned Woodnymphs, White-necked
Jacobins and Purple-bibbed Whitetips buzzing past our ears. Then back up the
mountain road for Lanceolated Monklet, Zeledon’s Antbird, Ornate Flycatcher,
White-throated Spadebill, Choco Warbler and other treats.
Crowned WoodnymphLanceolated Monklet
On Day Six we had another walk up the road, adding a number of goodies to our list including Crimson-rumped Toucanet, Slaty Spinetail, Parker’s Antbird, Black-headed Brushfinch and Greyish Piculet. Then it was back on the road, heading east to the Central Andes, enlivened by a stop where we bagged Torrent Duck and White-capped Dipper.
Torrent Ducks in their habitat
Otún-Quimbaya
Our next stay was at the lodge at the Otún-Quimbaya Fauna
and Flora Sanctuary. An old stand of beech woods, it hosts several
much-in-demand bird species including the rare Red-ruffed Fruitcrow and endemic
Cauca Guan. Until recently, the Guan was thought to be extinct, but there is a
healthy population in the small reserve. We rolled up and saw both species
before dinner, doubtless due to our superior bird-finding skills, though a
cynic might have noted that both species roost in trees and bushes on the
grounds of the lodge. After a good meal we off in search of owls, and were
rewarded by a good look at a Colombian Screech-Owl (recently lumped with Rufescent
Screech-Owl).
In the wee hours of the next day we headed down the forest road on a mission to find antpittas. Three species of these furtive, skulking forest birds are known to haunt the reserve, and we hoped to catch a glimpse or two. What we did not expect was to see a Moustached Antpitta, the most skulking of the bunch, standing idly by the side of the road. We all goggled at it for a few seconds until, tiring of the glow of our headlights, it vanished into the undergrowth. Shortly thereafter, in a deep and very dark glade, we spotted a Hooded Antpitta. In the days of film a photograph would have been impossible, but I cranked the Nikon up to ISO 12,800 and got what we can charitably call a record shot.
Hooded Antpitta
Cameguadua Marsh
We spent a bit more time patrolling the sanctuary, and added a number of good birds to the trip list including Wattled Guan, White-naped Brushfinch and Variegated Bristle-tyrant. Then it was time to head off to the next port of call, Manizales. Our route included a stop at the Cameguadua Marsh, which is actually a sewage lagoon and a rather good one at that. In just under two hours we spotted 66 species, including some highly desirable ones: Blackish Rail, Great Antshrike and Pale-breasted Spinetail. Herons and waders were well-represented, and Vermillion Flycatchers abundant. In the afternoon we visited Rio Claro near the town of Chinchiná, where we saw a male & female endemic Turquoise Dacnis.
Vermilion Flycatcher (female)
Los Nevados
In the wee hours we headed up into the Central Andes aiming for Los Nevados national park, home of several high-altitude bird species. On the way up we saw Paramo Seedeater, Grey-browed Brushfinch, a showy Paramo Tapaculo,[1] and on the hummingbird side added the highly colourful Purple-backed Thornbill, Rainbow-bearded Thornbill and Shining Sunbeam. Probably the best find was a flock of the endemic & endangered Rufous-fronted Parakeet, seen by scope on a distant cliff face.
Paramo Tapaculo
We
stopped for a snack and some coca tea at Laguna Negra, while a very friendly
Stout-billed Cinclodes showed off for us. Coca tea, by the way, is used by the
locals to combat altitude sickness. Tasty stuff, but I decided that if I
brought some back with me there would likely be a scene with the customs
officials so I reluctantly let it go.
The
Visitor Centre at Los Nevados sits at 4,200m, which is 13,800 feet in old money
and the highest I have been without being surrounded by an airplane. The target
bird was an endemic hummingbird known as the Buffy Helmetcrest, a beast that
apparently does not need oxygen to survive. We lowlanders do need oxygen, and
there was precious little in evidence. Nonetheless, while moving about very
slowly we managed to spot the beast. Slow high-fives were exchanged, then we
fled back down to the air zone.
Looking a bit strained.
On
our way back we stopped in at the Hotel Termales del Ruiz, a nice hotel with
thermal baths. And hummingbirds. Stacks of them. There are bird feeders
throughout the grounds and they attract a stunning array of hummingbirds and
tanagers. Of the 12 species of hummingbirds, four were lifers for me: Mountain
Velvetbreast, Buff-winged Starfrontlet, near-endemic Black-thighed Puffleg and near-endemic
Golden-breasted Puffleg. We also saw four species of mountain tanagers, of
which Lachrymose and Scarlet-bellied were new to me. So all in all, not bad for
90 minutes work that also included lunch!
Shining Sunbeam
Rio Blanco
Our next stop was the lodge at Reserva Ecológica Río Blanco.
Just a short hop from Manizales, this reserve in the cloud forest is
particularly noted as a hotspot for antpittas. We arrived at the crack of dawn
to ensure we were in place when the rangers feed the shy Bicoloured Antpitta.
Most of a Bicoloured Antpitta
The
Bicoloured is a small antpitta and can be bullied by the others, so they have
their own feeding “theatre.” Just after dawn our ranger-guide led us to the
spot and in the gloom a small bird appeared to get its meal. We then went to
another spot where the procedure was repeated and both endemic Brown-banded and
Chestnut-crowned Antpittas came to feast. It was a fascinating experience and
also a great test of camera-handling: fast-moving birds in low light are tricky
enough, and one has to bear in mind that antpittas have very long legs and
toes. Some of my otherwise best images are marred by missing toes!
Brown-banded Antpitta
Chestnut-crowned Antpitta
After the antpitta-fest we had a good breakfast and started exploring the rest of the reserve. Over a long day and a half of hill-walking we found really good numbers of birds, with flycatchers, guans, wrens and furnarids particularly well represented. A nighttime excursion netted White-throated Screech-Owl, Rufous-banded Owl, Slaty-backed Nightingale-Thrush and the charismatic Lyre-tailed Nightjar. And needless to say, hordes of hummingbirds buzzed around the feeders at the lodge.
The lodge itself was very comfortable, with good food and friendly staff. This seems to be a theme – we ate well and slept well at all the birding lodges we visited.
Andean GuanLong-tailed Sylph
Hotel Tinamú
After a final bit of cloud forest birding we set off for the
short trip to Hotel Tinamú, a private reserve and lodge where we hoped to find a few
key birds. Tinamous, of course, would top the list, but these skulkers are very
rarely seen. True to form we didn’t see any – though I strongly suspect that
the vaguely chicken-shaped bird that scooted across the trail in front of me
was a Little Tinamou. But we were consoled by a lot of other good sightings:
Green Hermits at a lek, Golden-collared Manakin, Blue-lored Antbird and our target
bird the Grey-headed Dove.
Golden-collared Manakin @ISO 10,000
My compañeros were too fatigued to go owling in the evening but I went out with the head guide and we spent an hour or so patrolling the reserve. We were rewarded with good looks at Tropical Screech-Owls – a bird I had previously seen but had not been able to photograph. So all was well.
Tropical Screech-Owl
Clay-coloured Thrush
In the morning after a fine breakfast we had another good look around, enabling me to renew acquaintances with Clay-coloured Thrush, a species that I first saw in Costa Rica. Then it was “on-on”, with a long drive ahead before we would come to rest in Jardin.
On the way through Manizales we picked up Daniel’s daughter Laura, who is learning the ropes of the birding business. This clever and charming young lady was a welcome addition, as her presence immediately raised the standard of conversation above the usual masculine grunting noises.
Western Andes – Riosucio and Jardin
The mountain road that winds between Riosucio and Jardin is
home to some special birds, most notably the endemic & endangered
Yellow-eared Parrot. Once on the verge of extinction, with a total wild
population of 81 birds, this parrot has benefited from an intensive
conservation effort and is now on the rebound. There are over 1400 of these
colourful, large and noisy parrots screeching around the area, and we had no
problem spotting groups of up to 30 birds. While poking around we also
discovered the endemic Yellow-headed Brushfinch and beautiful Rufous-breasted
Chat-Tyrant, the latter being one of Ken’s key targets.
The Riosucio-Jardin Express
After a night in Jardin we headed back up the mountain road to link up with Doña Lucía, a local antpitta-whisperer, and we spent an enjoyable hour or so observing and feeding Chestnut-naped Antpittas. A lone Slate-crowned Antpitta observed the proceedings from a safe spot but was disinclined to join in the festivities.
Chestnut-naped Antpitta
There were doubtless many more birds that could have been
found, but we had to head back to Jardin in time to see the Cock-of-the-Rock
spectacle. On a riverside lot in downtown Jardin there is a copse of trees that
Andean Cock-of-the-Rocks have deemed to be appropriate for their mating
displays.
Andean Cock-of-the-Rock
These are striking birds to look at, with their neon-red
plumage and bizarre shape, but their idea of how to win a lady’s heart is truly
spectacular. The birds bob, shake their wings, perform deep bows and push-ups
and hop around, all the while emitting a cacophony of squawks, croaks and
beak-clapping. It’s equally astonishing and amusing. Visiting a
Cock-of-the-Rock lek was one of my key wishes for this trip and I was not
disappointed.
The next morning we made a final foray up the mountain road,
adding Scarlet-rumped Cacique to our list but dipping on Red-bellied Grackle,
another bird on Ken’s wish list. We still hoped to find one, and the omens were
good, as we were now headed to the legendary Las Tangaras lodge, the final stop
on our tour.
Las Tangaras
Las Tangaras is a flagship reserve of ProAves, the most important NGO working to preserve the birdlife of Colombia. The reserve is located within the Choco region of the Western Andes, and consists of tropical forest with an elevation ranging from 1250 to 3400m. E-bird lists 454 bird species that have been seen at the reserve.
Velvet-purple Coronet
The lodge was quite comfortable and offered excellent food.
Most of the key species are not found on the grounds of the lodge, but on a
high mountain road that winds southwards. We arrived at lunchtime and
immediately made our first foray up the road. For about four hours of effort we
ended up with 42 species, highlighted by Toucan Barbet, endemic Tatama
Tapaculo, Uniform Antshrike, eight flycatcher species and the endemic Black-and-gold
Tanager, as well as a good assortment of hummingbirds.
Toucan Barbet
Cinnamon Flycatcher
The next morning we headed back up, and though low cloud and
intermittent rain made viewing conditions less than optimal, we still managed a
good haul. Both Rufous-rumped and Yellow-breasted Antwrens were seen, along
with Choco Vireo, Crested Ant-Tanager and a few new-for-the-trip furnarids.
Several Yellow-breasted Antpittas were heard at close range but they refused to
show themselves. A lone Olivaceous Piha was spotted lurking in the forest at
close range, and despite the cloud and dense undergrowth I managed to get a
decent image.
Olivaceous Piha
Masked Trogon
Fortunately we had better weather the next day, as it would
be our last shot at a few target birds. Much searching was needed but we did
eventually find two Beautiful Jays and a couple of Red-bellied Grackles, as
well as a pair of White-headed Wrens. A good assortment of tanagers and
furnarids rounded out the list, with a surprise addition of Long-billed
Starthroat at lunch – our 51st hummingbird species of the trip. Then
we were back on the road, heading for Medellin, with a couple of new species
added during short stops along the way.
Andean Motmot at the Lodge
Homeward Bound
Goodbyes were said, vast plates of grilled chicken were dispatched, and finally we were at an airport hotel awaiting an early flight through Panama City bound for Kingston. Given that we were primarily looking for scarce endemics, a final trip list of 481 species (456 seen, 25 heard-only) was quite respectable. When we add in the birds I saw in the Eastern Andes with Daniel my Colombia life list sits at 651. Plans are already being hatched for the next excursion to Colombia, the Mecca of Birding.
[1]
Showy for a tapaculo, that is. Still a fairly skulking bird.
Trip Report: KFN Field Trip to Southwestern Ontario – 6-11
May 2019
In days of yore the Kingston Field Naturalists (KFN) used to conduct field trips to Point Pelee, the birding mecca of southwestern Ontario. Eventually interest waned and these trips were discontinued, but with a new generation of keen birders entering our ranks the time seemed right to renew this tradition. And so it was that on the 6th of May eight members headed down the long road to Leamington in search of spring migrants.
By the time we arrived it was late afternoon, so there were
only a couple of hours of birding time available before we had to check into
hotels and find dinner. We decided to patrol the Woodland Trail and amid the
usual suspects we managed to find five warbler species, including good views of
Blue-winged Warbler. Just a taste of things to come! We also saw the first of
approximately one zillion Red-breasted Nuthatches we were to find during the
week – these normally northern forest specialists were everywhere.
“Anthony Kaduck, you stand accused of twitching in the first degree, in that on the 28th of April in this year of our Lord 2019, you did willfully and with prior intent travel to Oshawa for the sole purpose of viewing a bird, to wit a Hermit Warbler. How do you plead?”
“Guilty, m’Lud.”
(Nice Hermit Warbler image by Patko erika courtesy of Wikipedia)
I completely missed the first clue. While scrolling through
the hourly rare bird update for Ontario I glanced at a posting about a Hermit something in Thickson’s Woods. I deleted
the post, wondering to myself why a Hermit Thrush would trigger a rare bird
alert.
Later on that evening I received a message from Paul
Mackenzie, asking if I wanted to chase the Hermit WARBLER at Thickson’s Woods.
A quick check of Sibley’s revealed that there was indeed such a bird, and it
was way out of its normal range. Despite the late hour, and having different
plans for Sunday, and having consumed a large meal and several beverages, I
agreed. (On second thought, the beverages may have played a role). And so the game
was afoot.
And what is a Hermit Warbler…
…you ask? A very shy and retiring wood warbler that normally breeds on the West coast of the US, winters in Mexico, and occasionally wanders as far afield as Colorado. So this particular beastie evidently took a seriously wrong turn at Albuquerque. Worth chasing in the first instance, and the fact that it was a very fresh-looking adult male – and thus a stunning bird – added further impetus.
As I sped West after a delayed start I went through the
usual nameless dread that accompanies twitchers – that I would arrive to the soul-destroying
phrase “you should have been here ten minutes ago”, followed by several dreary and
ultimately futile hours searching for a bird that has well and truly departed never
to be seen again.
I arrived to at the crowded parking area and the first two
birders I met were packing up to go, having been treated to a fine exhibition by
the bird in question. One fellow mentioned how unusual it was for a rare bird
to be so confiding, and that I was sure to get some great close-up photos. Foolishly
letting down my guard, I wandered over to the last known location to find that
the bird had vanished some minutes before. The Cassandras in the group opined
that it had fed well all morning and was likely gone for good, headed North.
The Agony and the Ecstasy
The assembled multitudes milled around aimlessly for a
while, but gradually the crowd started to thin out until only three or four of
us were left at the scene of the crime. Had the warbler waited another ten
minutes he might have been able to frolic unobserved, but as it was he poked his
bright yellow head out of the foliage right in my line of sight. A quick look
confirmed that this was a Hermit Warbler, and I announced it just as he
disappeared again.
No one else saw it, and after another ten warbler-free minutes
I detected a certain veiled skepticism among the cognoscenti. But with nothing
else in sight a number of birders drifted back, so when the beast reappeared he
was spotted. In typical warbler fashion he was flitting constantly in and out
of the foliage so a photograph was not possible, but the Hermit is a very distinctive
warbler and he was well seen by all.[1]
Paying obeisance to a rare bird.
So there is no particular moral to this story but at least it had a happy ending for me, with life bird #1680 in the bag. Sadly, my travelling companion and instigator of the twitch had to leave for home and missed the bird by ten minutes.
BTW, Luc Fazio managed to get some good video footage of the warbler when it was showing off – viewable at this link.
[1] Less, of course, those misguided souls who think that a camera is a good alternative to binoculars – they were mostly unable to find the bird.
Beer. It’s the best damn drink in the world. — Jack Nicholson
2018 was the year of the challenge: the Biggish Bird Year, where I challenged myself to see 250 bird species in Ontario, and the Jon Bubb Birding Beer Challenge, where a mate challenged me to sample one beer for every species seen. As you have read in these pages in excruciating detail, I did manage to clock 278 bird species. So how did I fare on the beer challenge?
Fuller’s London Pride. The best of the best.
Well as the Duke of Wellington said about the battle of Waterloo, it was a near-run thing. Throughout the year I was perennially in catch-up mode, as each time I started to make up some ground I ended up seeing new birds, necessitating even more beer species. At the end of November I was 40 beers in arrears, but with the aid of some boon companions a late push got me just over the line. I spotted the 278th bird on December 29th, and downed the 278th beer on the 31st.
Mackinnon Brothers Eight Man English Pale Ale – beer #278.
It didn’t actually require a massive effort, just a certain amount of diligence. Even operating under self-imposed political constraints (no beers from fascist countries, from countries sliding towards fascism, or from countries run by populist demagogues) and even after losing the month of November to an unnamed plague virus, I still managed to get the job done. I even ended up with a few extras in the fridge to kick off the 2019 year list.
So we now have established that there are upwards of 300 beers available in Ontario, a happy and healthy increase from the days of my youth when there were about ten and they all tasted the same.
And by the way, the level of effort required to sit in comfy pubs or at home in my armchair sipping a cool one compares very favourably to the many hundreds of hours I spent out in the wind, rain, perishing cold and blazing heat searching for birds.
Carrying on the Quest
A trio of excellent brews, from Kingston, Peterborough and the Laurentides.
So should anyone be inspired to replicate this noble challenge, I think that it should be quite possible to shoot for 300 in a year. The real limiting factor is finding sufficient stocks of new beers to try, but with diligence (that word again) and the help of friends it should be do-able. So I now throw down the gauntlet: a decent bottle of whisky to the first one of my readers to hit 300.
The Rules of the Game
Here are the rules, as codified by a panel of expert:
Sample Size. Ideally each beer should be imbibed in its natural form. For draft beers this means a pint glass; bottles or cans should be decanted into an appropriate-sized glass. Half pints are acceptable, as are flights of beers provided that the serving size is adequate to assess the quality of a beer.
Radlers may be included.
Neer beers (i.e. alcohol-free beers) may not be counted.
How to Approach the Challenge
As long as you stick to the rules the path to success is fairly simple (and should only cause mild annoyance among your friends):
When out on the town, try to steer your friends towards brew pubs or places with large beer menus.
Don’t just order the beer you like. Nerdishly search the list of available beers for new targets.
If in doubt, consult your year list, which should be on your phone.
Order a different beer with each round.
When out of town, never pass an LCBO without checking to see if they have any regional brews.
Drink beer when you might otherwise prefer wine or a cocktail.
Proper glassware is also important.
Remerciements
Along the way there were a number of people who helped (or
in AA terms facilitated) this quest.
My brothers, who eagerly leapt into the spirit (so to speak).
Andrew and Mike, who supported the guiding philosophy of birds+beers during our road trip.
Brother-in-law Rob, who always had interesting bottles in stock when we came to visit.
Larry and Janice, my sister’s neighbours, who heard about the challenge and brought me back several Newfoundland specialties.
Bruce, who designatedly drove while I sampled the wares of Niagara-on-the-Lake.
Christie and Zarko, who on their travels thoughtfully picked up a six-pack from an obscure craft brewery.
Brother-in-law James, who bravely took time off from Christmas Eve preparations to sink a few with me.
Of 278 beers tasted, 97 received a star, signifying an interesting brew of high quality and drinkability – “more-ish” as the Brits would say. Stone City Ales had the highest score with five starred brews, followed by Collective Arts and Muskoka Brewery with four each.
Those that didn’t make the grade generally fell into two categories: boring (yet another Labatt’s Blue clone or over-hopped IPA) or weird. In the weird category I would count most of the sours.
Sours are the latest craze among brewers. They have a long history and, in the right circumstances (which normally include being in Belgium), they are an interesting diversion. But they generally fail on the quaffability and I-think-I’ll-have-another criteria.
In the Hall of Shame were eight brews rated as dreadful/never try again: Barley Days Wind and Sail Dark, Bennett’s Dominion Ale, Budweiser Light, Coors Banquet, Coors Light, Henderson’s Food Truck Blonde Ale, Puppers Letterkenny Lager, and Wolfe Island Brewery Out for a Sip. You have been warned.
Recommended Beers
This is the house ale chez nous.
My first post on this topic included a list of recommended
beers. Here are a few more good ones for your delectation:
Amsterdam Brewery Space Invader IPA
Blyth Brewing Company Doc Perdue’s Bobcat
Benediktiner Hell
Beyond the Pale Pink Fuzz Pale Wheat Ale
Bicycle Craft Brewery Velocipede IPA
Braufactum Pale Ale
Brooklyn Lager
Collective Arts Jam up the Mash Dry-hopped Sour
Collective Arts Surround Sound Double Dry-hopped IPA
Hop City Brewing Co 8th Sin Black Lager
Kingston Brew Pub Dragon’s Breath
La Trou du Diable Saison
du Tracteur
MacKinnon Brothers Eight Man English Pale Ale
Mill Street Tankhouse
Northwinds Rooster Tail American Pale Wheat
Robinsons Iron Maiden Trooper beer
Sons of Kent Brewing Co 8 Track IPA
St Mary Axe India Pagan Ale
Stone City 12 Star Session Ale
Stone City Shallow Grave American Stout
The Publican House Brewery Square Nail Pale Ale
Traquair Jacobite Ale
Whitewater Brewing Co Astrolabe Session IPA
And remember, as Benjamin Franklin didn’t say (but should have):
“Beer is proof God loves us and wants us to be happy”
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