Round Robin » Big Day

Student World Series Team Wins Cape May County With 166 Species

Hugh — Wed, 15 May 2013 15:29:00 +0000

By Pat Leonard

Imagine standing in a marsh at night with the rain pouring down and wind blowing through the tall grass, masking all other sounds. Imagine standing there for 20 minutes and not hearing a single bird. That’s the way Team Redhead’s World Series of Birding began on May 11 at midnight. Despite the soggy start, these five intrepid Cornell students followed their plan in an efficient, clockwork-like manner and tallied 166 species to capture the Cape May County division championship. At the same time they raised money earmarked for undergraduate research and conservation projects (see video examples).

After that first silent 20 minutes, a Canada Goose broke the ice and the birding got a lot better in the Tuckahoe Wildlife Management Area in the north end of the county. The Redheads then checked off Virginia, Clapper, and King rails, plus Great Horned Owl, Chuck-will’s-widow, and Whip-poor-will.

“Benjamin Van Doren is amazing with night-flight calls,” says team co-captain Ben Barkley “That’s how we got Least Bittern flying overhead and Rose-breasted Grosbeak–our only chance to get those species all day.”

A seawatch at dawn at Cape May Point brought better weather as well as Royal Tern, Red-breasted Merganser, and Black Skimmer. While Andy Johnson, Jack Hruska, and Van Doren scoped the ocean with Teresa Pegan doing the same with binoculars, Barkley watched for migrants and pulled in Bank Swallow and Green Heron.

At Higbee Beach and Hidden Valley, the team scored 20 species of warbler along with a Blue-headed Vireo. Wintering birds that typically would have moved on to their breeding grounds by now helped swell the species total, including Ruddy Duck, Red-breasted Nuthatch, and Pine Siskin.

The breeding birds up north all showed up on cue as midday stops produced key species including Yellow-billed Cuckoo, Yellow-throated Vireo, Summer Tanager, Eastern Meadowlark, and Horned Lark. A quick sweep of expected shorebirds along the Atlantic brought the team to Cape Island where they finished the daylight hours with Lesser Black-backed Gull, Gull-billed Tern, Eurasian Collared-Dove, and a very unexpected Brown Pelican.

Every Big Day team has a nemesis bird, and for Team Redhead this year, that was the Northern Flicker.

Between 8:00 and 11:00 p.m. the Redheads also did well. Johnson and Barkley did a Barred Owl duet that sounded sufficiently enticing to have the real thing respond. During an impromptu stop for screech-owl, Barkley says, “Andy did a perfect whinny and trill and the bird responded. He just nailed it, it was awesome!” That was the last bird tallied for the day, number 166.

At the finish line, the Redheads checked over their list, checked it again, and handed it in. They had to wait for one more county-wide team to turn in its list before finding out they’d won—too tired to whoop and holler but well satisfied with the end result!

“You put so much work in beforehand, studying the songs, holding team meetings, and then you work like crazy during scouting, and you work so hard during the day and to find out you won is just incredible,” Barkley says. “We made sure we ran between every stop—running to the car, running back to the car, we were all out and we worked incredibly well together.”

Thanks to all who donated in support of Team Redhead—and produced such an inspiring performance!

(Image: Team Redhead in black—Ben Barkley, Benjamin Van Doren, Andy Johnson, Teresa Pegan, and Jack Hruska—accepting their award from Dale Rosselet [left] and Pete Dunne [right].)

Scouting Report: Students of Team Redhead Prepare for World Series of Birding

Annetta — Fri, 10 May 2013 13:29:49 +0000

Team Redhead is doing its homework. These five Cornell students, all top-notch birders, are into their second full day of scouting ahead of this Saturday’s 30th annual World Series of Birding in New Jersey. As always, the goal is to identify as many bird species by sight or sound as possible in a slightly manic 24-hour period.

This year’s team roster includes Big Day veterans and co-captains Andy Johnson and Ben Barkley along with returning Redhead Jack Hruska. The newcomers are Benjamin Van Doren and Teresa Pegan.

They have Cape May County’s 620 square miles to cover, scoping forest, marsh, protected bays, and open ocean for species they can count on when the competition begins at the crack of midnight on May 11. They want to win their division for bragging rights, of course, but most importantly to raise vital funds for undergraduate student research and conservation projects. You can spur on the team and support their cause.

The Redheads first full day of scouting in Cape May was on Wednesday—a day that dawned foggy, cold, and drizzly. Barkley, Van Doren, and Pegan spent their time scouting the northern half of the county, in Belleplain State Forest. They were on the lookout for local breeding bird species that are hard to find farther south in the county, such as Kentucky Warblers and Summer Tanagers. The Big Day route traditionally begins up here, in a dark, damp marsh, listening for the hoots of owls and the calls of other nocturnal necessities such as Gray-cheeked, Swainson’s, and Wood thrushes that may be migrating overhead.

Johnson, Hruska, and scouting assistant Jacob Drucker did a seawatch Wednesday morning and scoured areas of Cape Island where tired migrants tend to stop for a rest. Johnson reports the team is finding most of what they’re looking for, though there have been no major “fallouts” like the one last month on the Texas coast that helped Team Sapsucker set a new Big Day record.

Ducks are always a challenge in May because you never know if any will be lingering on their migration—most have already moved north. So far, scouting has turned up Green-winged Teal, Gadwall, Black Duck, and Long-tailed Ducks.

There were several highlights on Wednesday: a Pine Siskin that should have packed its bags and headed north weeks ago, three jaegers, and… the sun. After a drippy start, the day turned warmer, with clear skies that should hold for today’s scouting.

Weather is always the wild card for Big Day and can make or break a team’s tally sheet. The Redheads have some idea of what to expect though, thanks to weekly, regional predictions of bird migration from our BirdCast project. Cornell Lab researcher and BirdCast project leader Andrew Farnsworth has taken a look at what the Redheads might encounter this weekend, and it’s a mixed bag. Light rain and an occasional thunderstorm means migrants already in Cape May will probably stay put, he said. That’s the good news. The bad news is that if there’s a lot of rain, there won’t be many new species of migrants arriving, despite favorable winds from the south to help them along. The wind may pose some difficulties during the day as well, keeping birds hidden and making it hard for the Redheads to hear and see any birds that are moving. The Redheads will get one more BirdCast update just ahead of the Big Day.

Armed with the latest migration and weather information, plus their scouting efforts, The Redheads will work out the fine details of their tightly timed route, deciding whether to cover singing forest birds in the north at dawn, for example, or focus on migrants at the southern tip of the Cape May peninsula first.

Cape May County includes many bird-friendly habitats as it juts into the ocean with protected bay on one shore and the open Atlantic on the other.

Overall, Andy Johnson says the team feels optimistic about their chances on the Big Day, despite a fair amount of sleep deprivation and the fact that three of the team members have to take finals during the scouting period. Unlike the rest of the World Series teams, they’ll have to factor study time into their scouting equation! But there will be a good supply of New Jersey staples, such as Tastykakes, available from the famous WaWa gas stations that dot the landscape. With a little luck, well-honed talent, and lots of support from donors, Team Redhead will cross the finish line at the Cape May fire station Saturday night with a tally sheet that can’t be beat. Go Redheads!

Keep track of Team Redhead during the World Series on their Facebook page.

(This post was written by Pat Leonard.)

294 Species and One Shattered Record on “Almost Perfect” Big Day

Hugh — Sat, 27 Apr 2013 14:52:14 +0000

As midnight struck on Thursday, April 25, 2013, the six members of Team Sapsucker made North American history with 294 species recorded in a single day—a new record. Buoyed by good weather, excellent scouting help, and one of the largest migration fallouts in recent memory, they raced from the desert washes of south-central Texas to the live oaks of the coast to amass a total larger than almost anyone had imagined possible.

In 2011, Team Sapsucker—Chris Wood, Jessie Barry, Andrew Farnsworth, Marshall Iliff, Tim Lenz, and Brian Sullivan—had set a new record with 264 species. That was three more than the previous high mark. In 2012 they returned to Texas and managed to repeat their result. It seemed as if Texas’s potential might be reaching a plateau, which is why it was on no one’s radar (except for the Sapsuckers themselves) that this year’s total would be a full 30 species higher.

“We’ve always known, or at least had some faith, that 300 is possible,” Iliff said. “But it requires not only perfect planning and perfect execution, which is hard enough, but it also requires perfect weather. Somehow this year all those things happened.”

Early on, the Sapsuckers knew this year could be special. A weather forecast was calling for an unusually strong cold front to make it through Texas and out into the Gulf of Mexico. At the same time, conditions in the Yucatan Peninsula were ideal for migrants to begin their long flight north. “When migrants meet these fronts it’s a serious challenge for them,” said Andrew Farnsworth, a bird migration expert and project leader for BirdCast. “They hit rain and strong winds, they look for the closest coastal habitat they can find, and they fall out.” After two straight years of strong south winds and poor migrant turnout, it looked like Thursday could bring calm conditions and migrants galore.

On Wednesday, a report from High Island by team scout Tom Johnson whetted their appetite. Later, he described the scene:

On Wednesday morning as I headed west on the Bolivar Peninsula, I started to notice large waves of Barn Swallows and Chimney Swifts arriving from offshore. I started to see Rose-breasted Grosbeaks, Scarlet Tanagers, and Yellow-billed Cuckoos flying low over the beach and landing in marginal shrub habitat, so I hightailed it back to High Island, the only substantial strip of coastal forest for dozens of miles around. The woods had turned into a rush of color. Summer and Scarlet Tanagers were attempting to make landfall after a tough water crossing into north winds. Tennessee Warblers, 330 of them, streamed across 5th Avenue and toward Smith Oaks, a Houston Audubon preserve. Orioles, grosbeaks, and buntings were everywhere. Hundreds of warblers were zipping around the treetops, while others poked around on grassy areas and bare trails, trying to refuel after their marathon flight.

The migrants were good news, but they also meant the team had to pack all their scouting into fewer days. Normally they have a full week to ferret out every last rarity and make endless recalculations to their carefully timed itinerary. In the end, they were still making route adjustments up until the night before. At 6:00 p.m. on Wednesday they decided to allot 30 minutes to a great duck and shorebird spot near San Antonio called Mitchell Lake, but this meant staying up until 10:00 figuring out where to win back the time elsewhere in the route. Then to bed, maybe—they were getting up at 10:30.

A lot of strategy goes into a Big Day. To best coordinate the route, they divide the day into thirds and a two-person team takes responsibility for leading each third. Marshall Iliff and Tim Lenz handled the morning in San Antonio and the Hill Country; Andrew Farnsworth and Brian Sullivan planned out the central portion all the way to the piney woods east of Houston; and Jessie Barry and Chris Wood orchestrated the final push from 4:30 onward into the migration hotspots and shorebird flats of High Island and Bolivar Peninsula.

The team got into position before midnight and began their day with a rare Ross’s Goose that had been hanging out at a suburban park near San Antonio. From there the team hopscotched to Uvalde, pausing for opportune species—a robin and a Blue Jay whose nests were lit by streetlights; pauraques, poorwills, Chuck-will’s-widows; two nighthawks and five owls. By the time dawn broke they were on a quiet road in the desert listening for Scaled Quail, then racing to Chalk Bluffs for a dawn chorus worth 79 species.

Though it wasn’t 8 a.m. yet, the day began to pick up its pace. Racing up a hillside after a Black-tailed Gnatcatcher, Andrew Farnsworth watched Brian Sullivan tumble over some barbed wire; on the way back down Farnsworth snagged the exact same strand. The team had to use their full supply of safety pins to repair his pants leg. Iliff briefly raised blood pressures by driving into the Uvalde dump after a Chihuahuan Raven—the same choice that last year led to a flat tire and an hour’s delay. This year: no flat tire, but no raven.

The team’s last-minute decision to add Mitchell Lake paid off with hundreds of ducks and shorebirds, along with a half-dozen soaring raptors. Another detour that Farnsworth and Sullivan had fretted over also paid off in some wet fields near the Attwater Prairie Chicken National Wildlife Refuge. In the end, it was fast and productive: brake pedal, exit ramp, wet field, Le Conte’s Sparrow, Upland Sandpiper, on ramp, accelerator.

Now the team had to make it through Houston in midafternoon traffic. On the far side of the city, some of the last fingers of eastern piney woods creep down into Texas, and with it come Pileated Woodpeckers, Prothonotary Warblers, Brown-headed Nuthatches, and Red-headed Woodpeckers. A Swainson’s Warbler, a difficult bird to find at the best of times, sang on cue. A Bald Eagle soared above a reservoir. “And the whole time Brian and I were thinking ‘Oh geez, we’re not going to find any of these woodpeckers we scouted… we’re not going to have enough time,’” Farnsworth said. “We weren’t thinking about numbers, we were thinking about finding birds.”

“One of the hardest things about a Big Day is you have to stay on your pace,” Sullivan added. “When you miss a bird, you can’t linger on it. You just have to say ‘Oh well, we missed it. We’ve got to go,’ even if it’s just 30 seconds or a minute. Chris and Jessie’s portion of the route starts at 4:30, and if you’ve added minutes onto your day and you’re starting there at 5:15, you’re going to miss 30 birds later.”

When they hit High Island the migration fallout that had begun on Wednesday was still going on. All six of the Sapsuckers are serious, no-nonsense birders who know how to focus. But they’re also people who have loved looking at birds for as long as they can remember. They were having trouble concentrating.

“One of our biggest problems was being distracted by too many adult male Scarlet Tanagers and Rose-breasted Grosbeaks,” Iliff said. “We missed at least three or four species that way, probably more.”

“It was like being in a confetti of all different colors,” Farnsworth said. “It was beyond our abilities to comprehend and stay focused. These red and black Scarlet Tanagers were everywhere in your field of view, such an incredibly intense color, and we’d see 100 of them in a small area, everywhere you look, hopping on the ground.”

As good as the birding was, Barry kept pushing them forward. At one point, Philadelphia Vireos were so close at hand that Iliff photographed one using his iPhone. But despite the nagging sense that among those flitting masses there must be a new species or two—maybe a Bay-breasted or a Golden-winged Warbler—they needed to get to Bolivar with enough daylight to pick up the dozens of species that awaited them there: thousands of avocets, plovers, stilts, dowitchers, knots, yellowlegs, sandpipers, skimmers, gulls, and terns.

When the sun went down Iliff, in the passenger seat, started entering birds into his laptop. A big number at the top of his spreadsheet flashed the total, but he refused to look at it until he was done. All he could hear were Barry and Lenz, sitting behind him and gasping at the numbers; and Farnsworth and Sullivan in the back of the van, asking what was going on. They were at 292. They spent the rest of their time slapping mosquitoes at Anahuac National Wildlife Refuge, getting King Rail around 10 p.m. and then Virginia Rail at 11:41. As the clock struck midnight, they were still listening for a Black Rail’s kee-kee-kerr. It didn’t come.

A total of 294 immediately raises the question of whether 300 really is possible. For Wood, it’s hard to say. “It’s in the back of our minds as we do this,” he said. “We’re at this point in time where technology will continue to advance, and our knowledge about birds and their exact requirements will continue to increase. But the other question is will there still be areas for birds? The area where we went to see Seaside Sparrow and Nelson’s Sparrow—along that road out into this great estuary—it’s all slated to have homes built on it. And there’s questions like how long will these birds be able to continue moving in these types of numbers? It speaks to so much that the Lab does, and the power of partnerships with local organizations.”

He was talking about help the team had received from dozens of people: expert scouters, crack local birders, birding organizations, kind permission from landowners, and team sponsorship by Carl Zeiss Sports Optics. Scouters included Andy Guthrie, Matt Hafner, Cornell Lab conservation scientist Ken Rosenberg, and Cornell grad Tom Johnson. The team also thanks Michele Crawford, Grant Webber at the Uvalde Fish Hatchery, Neal’s Lodge, Susan Albert and the staff at the Mitchell Lake Audubon Center, National Audubon Society, Brad Wier at the San Antonio Botanical Gardens, Noreen Baker, Jimmy Laurent at Anahuac National Wildlife Refuge, Harvey Laas, John Berner, Elizabeth Eddins, George and Clarence at Beaumont Waste Treatment, and Patti Ryan, whose delicious cookies powered the team through the day.

(Images taken by Tom Johnson at High Island, Texas, over the last few days. You can still donate in support of Team Sapsucker’s record and to aid our conservation work. You can view the full species list in the team’s eBird checklist.)

Texas Big Day Looking “Very, Very Good,” Starting at Midnight

Hugh — Wed, 24 Apr 2013 21:29:27 +0000

Tonight at midnight, the Cornell Lab’s competitive birding team will kick off a 24-hour Big Day in San Antonio, Texas. During every single minute of April 25, 2013, the six members of Team Sapsucker (left) will train their eyes and ears toward finding birds. They’re hoping for 265 species or more to break the North American record. Thanks to supporters’ pledges, it’s also our biggest conservation fundraiser of the year.

This year the team decided to push up their schedule owing to a favorable weather forecast. It gives them less time to scout for rarities along their route, but they hope that good migration conditions along the coast will make up for that.

“The way this [cold front] is timing out on Thursday, it provides a very unique window for us,” said Brian Sullivan. “Every time you do a Big Day you’ve got to put together all the breeding birds you can, and you can’t leave any of them on the table because you never know what’s going to happen with the migrants.” But after two years that have offered up slim migrant showings, the winds look poised to deliver on Thursday.

“Fitz would probably say ‘cautiously optimistic,’” said team captain Chris Wood, referring to Cornell Lab director and former team captain John Fitzpatrick. “But yeah, it could be very, very good.”

The day will start around San Antonio, said team member Jessie Barry. Bird number one might be an American Robin with a nest the team can check off without disturbing it, or possibly a Canvasback that often roosts at a nearby and well-lit lake. They’ll listen for owls, herons, nightjars, and the soft calls of passing migrants as they make their way toward the Hill Country for the dawn chorus. Last year, the team had 129 species by 9 a.m.

As the morning activity winds down they’ll make a long push 300 miles east to the Texas coast. They’ll swing through some wooded patches to pick up classic eastern species that are hard to come by in the Hill Country—birds like Downy Woodpecker, Acadian Flycatcher, and Pine Warbler. They’ll try to remember all the correct turns to get to the best sparrow fields as well as find the perfect flooded rice field for shorebirds.

“It’s always tricky with the rice fields, Wood said, “You’ve got to get the water levels just right” to produce clutch species like Buff-breasted Sandpiper, Long-billed Curlew, and Hudsonian Godwit. “Healthy godwits that have had good success on their wintering grounds don’t even want to stop along the Texas coast,” he said, referring to research by former Cornell Lab Ph.D. student Nathan Senner that showed that in good weather, the godwits keep right on going as far as Nebraska or Minnesota in one jump. “They might put down in Texas in adverse winds, but maybe only stay for a few hours,” Wood said. “So those are species that you always worry about it.”

Their meticulously timed route itinerary has them pulling in at 5:45 p.m. to High Island, one of the most famous spring migrant spots in North America. With any luck, rain and north winds will have forced migrating songbirds to seek shelter here on Wednesday instead of carrying on northward, and Team Sapsucker hopes they’ll stick around to refuel for Thursday.

This is a crucial part of the route for this year’s Big Day attempt—the team had a fairly poor showing for migrants last year but still managed to reach 264 species. On a good day, High Island can produce nearly 30 species of warblers alone. If eastern winds blow across the Gulf of Mexico there might even be a Caribbean influence to the migrants on offer—birds like Black-throated Blue Warbler and Cape May Warbler, said team member Andrew Farnsworth.

The team will spend the last of their daylight on Bolivar Peninsula, “one of the arguably very best concentrations of shorebirds in North America,” Wood said, where 10,000–15,000 shorebirds await them. “It’s a really good place for Snowy Plover, Wilson’s Plover, Piping Plover, hopefully Red Knot,” he said. “If we get out there right around sunset, we can hope for Peregrine Falcon and White-tailed Kite too.”

Then they’ll be back in darkness, using their ears to try to squeeze out a last few species. Here again, the predicted weather, if it holds, will help them. “The last couple years, the wind has not been tremendously kind to us,” said Brian Sullivan, referring to steady 25-mph breezes that made it hard to hear and probably kept birds inactive during the team’s last two attempts. “Last year in particular, the whole last night we ended up getting about four species, and we had a dozen that we should’ve found,” Wood said.

As I spoke with them, the team was converging on San Antonio from their various scouting territories. They planned to meet up around 5 p.m. and make final preparations: wash the car, meticulously clean the windows inside and out, decide on seating arrangements, and practice getting in and out smoothly. They’ll make a grocery run. From midnight to midnight there will be no meal stops; everything the team eats will come out of a single cooler. “Basically everybody gets to pick one item they want,” Barry told me. “Other than that it’s peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.” With any luck they’ll get to bed around 9 p.m. tonight—and back up a little before midnight.

We’ll have running updates on Facebook during the event, and a full recap posted here afterwards. Good luck, Team Sapsucker!

(Thanks to sponsorship from Carl Zeiss Sports Optics, 100 percent of your pledge goes directly to support conservation. Team Sapsucker image by Tim Gallagher. Left to right: Marshall Iliff, Tim Lenz, Jessie Barry, captain Chris Wood, Brian Sullivan, and Andrew Farnsworth.)

Migration Forecasts Help Birders Target Best Date for a Big Day

Hugh — Tue, 23 Apr 2013 19:58:54 +0000

As Team Sapsucker prepares for their Big Day in Texas, our new BirdCast project is helping pin down the best day of the week for their attempt on the North American record—and its weekly reports can help birders all over North America, too.

On a good day, springtime can deliver spectacular birding. But picking that day can be tricky. Migrants by the millions are flooding into North America, but are they coasting on tailwinds, battling through thunderstorms, or being buffeted by crosswinds? For decades, biologists have noticed that great sightings often go along with certain weather patterns—particularly the near-mythical “fallout,” when northerly winds stop migrants in their tracks as they arrive on the Gulf Coast after an all-night flight from Mexico.

Recently, our BirdCast project began formally compiling weather reports, radar maps, recent sightings, and other data into specific, weekly predictions about what birds are moving, and where they’re likely to be seen. The project aims to develop detailed predictions for conservationists and environmental planners—today, their regional reports are already proving useful to birders like our Team Sapsucker as they plan their Big Day. Thanks to your pledges, each extra species they find helps raise more funds for conservation.

We caught up with BirdCast project leader Andrew Farnsworth, who is also a member of Team Sapsucker, to see how the forecast looks for Texas this week. His short answer: Thursday could be really good.

The elements are already in motion, Farnsworth said. A cold front pushing across central Texas is likely to bring north winds and rain to east Texas and into the Gulf of Mexico by tomorrow morning. “It’s an almost ideal situation to create a fallout,” he said. ”Later tonight, birds are going to take off from the Yucatan, parts of the Mexican coast, and the Caribbean, because conditions are really good down there. Once they take off, they don’t usually turn around.”

As they near the end of their flight they’ll run into the cold front, with its rain and opposing winds, and they’ll start looking for the nearest shoreline to make landfall. (See a more complete breakdown on BirdCast’s weekly forecast page.)

Thursday should dawn cloudy but calm. The exhausted migrants should spend the day where they landed, resting and replenishing their energy stores. Meanwhile, Team Sapsucker will spend the morning scouring the Texas Hill Country, 300 miles away, and aim to arrive at High Island, on the coast, at around 5:45 p.m. They’ll have about two and a half hours of daylight left to look for 20+ warbler species as well as other migrants.

At least that’s the way it looks right now. “Whether it’s going to be as epic as it appears on paper is hard to say,” Farnsworth said. “But I think the chances for a fallout are better than 50:50 and increasingly better with each passing forecast that I’ve seen.”

There’s still time to help spur Team Sapsucker along by making a pledge for each species they see. Thanks to sponsor Carl Zeiss Sports Optics, 100 percent of every pledge goes directly to aid conservation.

What’s It Like to Find 264 Species in One Big Day? [video]

Hugh — Wed, 03 Apr 2013 16:39:52 +0000

Big Days are intense: Last year, our Team Sapsucker spent all 24 hours of April 27 scouring central and eastern Texas for birds. They had three dozen species on their list before dawn broke, and hit triple digits shortly before 8 a.m. They kept going, adding an average of one species every 11 minutes throughout the day.

To help the rest of us picture what that sort of daylong deluge of birds feels like, we’ve condensed their Big Day into a 4-minute slideshow. Watch and enjoy as the birds flash by!

Curious about which species is which in the slideshow? Refer to the table below—or download a printable PDF. (Note: the slideshow does not show all 264 species, and these photos were not taken on the Big Day itself.)

Photo Number	Common name	*Scientific name*
1	Black-bellied Whistling-Duck	Dendrocygna autumnalis
2	Yellow-crowned Night-Heron	Nyctanassa violacea
3	Mallard	Anas platyrhynchos
4	Barred Owl	Strix varia
5	White-winged Dove	Zenaida asiatica
6	American Robin	Turdus migratorius
7	American Coot	Fulica americana
8	Neotropic Cormorant	Phalacrocorax brasilianus
9	Great Horned Owl	Bubo virginianus
10	Killdeer	Charadrius vociferus
11	Black-crowned Night-Heron	Nycticorax nycticorax
12	Cattle Egret	Bubulcus ibis
13	Blue-winged Teal	Anas discors
14	Least Grebe	Tachybaptus dominicus
15	Common Pauraque	Nyctidromus albicollis
16	Gadwall	Anas strepera
17	Barn Owl	Tyto alba
18	Redhead	Aythya americana
19	Canvasback	Aythya valisineria
20	Ruddy Duck	Oxyura jamaicensis
22	American Wigeon	Anas americana
23	Northern Pintail	Anas acuta
24	Northern Shoveler	Anas clypeata
25	Wood Duck	Aix sponsa
26	Wild Turkey	Meleagris gallopavo
27	Double-crested Cormorant	Phalacrocorax auritus
28	Great Blue Heron	Ardea herodias
29	Spotted Sandpiper	Actitis macularius
30	Purple Martin	Progne subis
31	Clay-colored Sparrow	Spizella pallida
32	Painted Bunting	Passerina ciris
34	Eastern Screech-Owl	Megascops asio
35	Chuck-will’s-widow	Antrostomus carolinensis
38	Great-tailed Grackle	Quiscalus mexicanus
39	Northern Cardinal	Cardinalis cardinalis
40	Northern Mockingbird	Mimus polyglottos
41	Bewick’s Wren	Thryomanes bewickii
42	Carolina Wren	Thryothorus ludovicianus
43	Scissor-tailed Flycatcher	Tyrannus forficatus
44	Couch’s Kingbird	Tyrannus couchii
45	Ash-throated Flycatcher	Myiarchus cinerascens
46	Vermilion Flycatcher	Pyrocephalus rubinus
47	Tropical Kingbird	Tyrannus melancholicus
48	Eurasian Collared-Dove	Streptopelia decaocto
49	Black-throated Sparrow	Amphispiza bilineata
50	Curve-billed Thrasher	Toxostoma curvirostre
51	European Starling	Sturnus vulgaris
52	Green Jay	Cyanocorax yncas
53	Cactus Wren	Campylorhynchus brunneicapillus
54	Swainson’s Hawk	Buteo swainsoni
55	Great Kiskadee	Pitangus sulphuratus
56	Crested Caracara	Caracara cheriway
57	White-crowned Sparrow	Zonotrichia leucophrys
62	Turkey Vulture	Cathartes aura
63	Northern Harrier	Circus cyaneus
64	Red-tailed Hawk	Buteo jamaicensis
65	Mourning Dove	Zenaida macroura
66	Inca Dove	Columbina inca
67	Common Ground-Dove	Columbina passerina
68	White-tipped Dove	Leptotila verreauxi
69	Black-chinned Hummingbird	Archilochus alexandri
70	Green Kingfisher	Chloroceryle americana
71	Ladder-backed Woodpecker	Picoides scalaris
72	Eastern Wood-Pewee	Contopus virens
73	Black Phoebe	Sayornis nigricans
74	Eastern Phoebe	Sayornis phoebe
75	Western Kingbird	Tyrannus verticalis
76	Yellow-throated Vireo	Vireo flavifrons
77	Red-eyed Vireo	Vireo olivaceus
78	Olive Sparrow	Arremonops rufivirgatus
79	Cassin’s Sparrow	Peucaea cassinii
80	Rufous-crowned Sparrow	Aimophila ruficeps
81	Common Raven	Corvus corax
82	Northern Rough-winged Swallow	Stelgidopteryx serripennis
83	Carolina Chickadee	Poecile carolinensis
84	Black-crested Titmouse	Baeolophus atricristatus
85	Canyon Wren	Catherpes mexicanus
86	Blue-gray Gnatcatcher	Polioptila caerulea
87	American Pipit	Anthus rubescens
88	Cedar Waxwing	Bombycilla cedrorum
89	Orange-crowned Warbler	Oreothlypis celata
90	Yellow-throated Warbler	Setophaga dominica
91	Common Yellowthroat	Geothlypis trichas
92	Lark Sparrow	Chondestes grammacus
93	Red-winged Blackbird	Agelaius phoeniceus
94	Bronzed Cowbird	Molothrus aeneus
95	Brown-headed Cowbird	Molothrus ater
96	Orchard Oriole	Icterus spurius
97	Hooded Oriole	Icterus cucullatus
98	House Finch	Haemorhous mexicanus
99	Lesser Goldfinch	Spinus psaltria
100	House Sparrow	Passer domesticus
101	Harris’s Hawk	Parabuteo unicinctus
102	Lark Bunting	Calamospiza melanocorys
103	Black Vulture	Coragyps atratus
104	Rufous-capped Warbler	Basileuterus rufifrons
113	Savannah Sparrow	Passerculus sandwichensis
114	Dickcissel	Spiza americana
115	Western Meadowlark	Sturnella neglecta
116	Yellow-headed Blackbird	Xanthocephalus xanthocephalus
117	Black-necked Stilt	Himantopus mexicanus
118	Pied-billed Grebe	Podilymbus podiceps
119	Green Heron	Butorides virescens
120	Cinnamon Teal	Anas cyanoptera
121	Ring-necked Duck	Aythya collaris
122	Greater Yellowlegs	Tringa melanoleuca
123	Least Sandpiper	Calidris minutilla
124	Barn Swallow	Hirundo rustica
125	Yellow Warbler	Setophaga petechia
126	Yellow-rumped Warbler	Setophaga coronata
127	Chihuahuan Raven	Corvus cryptoleucus
130	Cliff Swallow	Petrochelidon pyrrhonota
131	Greater Roadrunner	Geococcyx californianus
132	Western Scrub-Jay	Aphelocoma californica
133	Black-tailed Gnatcatcher	Polioptila melanura
134	Verdin	Auriparus flaviceps
135	Cave Swallow	Petrochelidon fulva
136	Canyon Towhee	Melozone fusca
137	Chipping Sparrow	Spizella passerina
138	Peregrine Falcon	Falco peregrinus
139	Nashville Warbler	Oreothlypis ruficapilla
140	Black-and-white Warbler	Mniotilta varia
141	Varied Bunting	Passerina versicolor
142	Tropical Parula	Setophaga pitiayumi
143	Field Sparrow	Spizella pusilla
144	Long-billed Thrasher	Toxostoma longirostre
145	Golden-cheeked Warbler	Setophaga chrysoparia
146	Grasshopper Sparrow	Ammodramus savannarum
147	Brewer’s Blackbird	Euphagus cyanocephalus
148	Bank Swallow	Riparia riparia
149	Rock Wren	Salpinctes obsoletus
152	Cooper’s Hawk	Accipiter cooperii
153	Anhinga	Anhinga anhinga
154	Franklin’s Gull	Leucophaeus pipixcan
155	Monk Parakeet	Myiopsitta monachus
156	American Crow	Corvus brachyrhynchos
157	Common Grackle	Quiscalus quiscula
158	Red-shouldered Hawk	Buteo lineatus
159	Mississippi Kite	Ictinia mississippiensis
160	Swallow-tailed Kite	Elanoides forficatus
161	Belted Kingfisher	Megaceryle alcyon
162	White-tailed Hawk	Geranoaetus albicaudatus
163	Great Egret	Ardea alba
164	Snowy Egret	Egretta thula
165	Semipalmated Plover	Charadrius semipalmatus
166	Lesser Yellowlegs	Tringa flavipes
167	Semipalmated Sandpiper	Calidris pusilla
168	White-rumped Sandpiper	Calidris fuscicollis
169	Pectoral Sandpiper	Calidris melanotos
170	Dunlin	Calidris alpina
171	Stilt Sandpiper	Calidris himantopus
172	Short-billed Dowitcher	Limnodromus griseus
173	Wilson’s Phalarope	Phalaropus tricolor
174	Buff-breasted Sandpiper	Tryngites subruficollis
175	Broad-winged Hawk	Buteo platypterus
176	Tufted Titmouse	Baeolophus bicolor
177	Red-bellied Woodpecker	Melanerpes carolinus
178	Downy Woodpecker	Picoides pubescens
179	Red-headed Woodpecker	Melanerpes erythrocephalus
180	Acadian Flycatcher	Empidonax virescens
181	Prothonotary Warbler	Protonotaria citrea
182	Tennessee Warbler	Oreothlypis peregrina
183	Northern Parula	Setophaga americana
184	Pine Warbler	Setophaga pinus
185	Eastern Bluebird	Sialia sialis
187	Rock Pigeon	Columba livia
188	Osprey	Pandion haliaetus
189	Laughing Gull	Leucophaeus atricilla
190	Little Blue Heron	Egretta caerulea
191	Roseate Spoonbill	Platalea ajaja
192	Tricolored Heron	Egretta tricolor
193	Least Tern	Sternula antillarum
194	White Ibis	Eudocimus albus
195	Brown Pelican	Pelecanus occidentalis
196	Forster’s Tern	Sterna forsteri
197	Common Loon	Gavia immer
198	Magnificent Frigatebird	Fregata magnificens
199	Black Skimmer	Rynchops niger
200	Sandwich Tern	Thalasseus sandvicensis
201	Herring Gull	Larus argentatus
202	Common Tern	Sterna hirundo
206	Fulvous Whistling-Duck	Dendrocygna bicolor
207	Mottled Duck	Anas fulvigula
208	Black Tern	Chlidonias niger
209	Long-billed Dowitcher	Limnodromus scolopaceus
210	Eastern Meadowlark	Sturnella magna
211	Sedge Wren	Cistothorus platensis
212	Nelson’s Sparrow	Ammodramus nelsoni
213	Lesser Scaup	Aythya affinis
214	Reddish Egret	Egretta rufescens
215	Black-bellied Plover	Pluvialis squatarola
216	Wilson’s Plover	Charadrius wilsonia
217	Piping Plover	Charadrius melodus
218	American Avocet	Recurvirostra americana
219	Willet	Tringa semipalmata
220	Whimbrel	Numenius phaeopus
221	Ruddy Turnstone	Arenaria interpres
222	Sanderling	Calidris alba
223	Ring-billed Gull	Larus delawarensis
224	Gull-billed Tern	Gelochelidon nilotica
225	Horned Lark	Eremophila alpestris
226	Marbled Godwit	Limosa fedoa
227	Le Conte’s Sparrow	Ammodramus leconteii
228	Caspian Tern	Hydroprogne caspia
231	Eastern Kingbird	Tyrannus tyrannus
232	Rose-breasted Grosbeak	Pheucticus ludovicianus
233	Baltimore Oriole	Icterus galbula
234	Red-breasted Merganser	Mergus serrator
235	Long-billed Curlew	Numenius americanus
236	Upland Sandpiper	Bartramia longicauda
237	Snowy Plover	Charadrius nivosus
238	Red Knot	Calidris canutus
239	Common Nighthawk	Chordeiles minor
240	Blue Jay	Cyanocitta cristata
241	Northern Waterthrush	Parkesia noveboracensis
242	Lesser Black-backed Gull	Larus fuscus
244	Wood Thrush	Hylocichla mustelina
245	Swainson’s Thrush	Catharus ustulatus
246	Gray Catbird	Dumetella carolinensis
247	American Redstart	Setophaga ruticilla
248	Ovenbird	Seiurus aurocapilla
249	White-throated Sparrow	Zonotrichia albicollis
250	Magnolia Warbler	Setophaga magnolia
251	Kentucky Warbler	Geothlypis formosa
252	Cerulean Warbler	Setophaga cerulea
254	Blackpoll Warbler	Setophaga striata
255	Black-throated Green Warbler	Setophaga virens
256	Scarlet Tanager	Piranga olivacea
257	American Bittern	Botaurus lentiginosus
258	Sora	Porzana carolina
259	White-faced Ibis	Plegadis chihi
260	Solitary Sandpiper	Tringa solitaria
261	Seaside Sparrow	Ammodramus maritimus
262	King Rail	Rallus elegans
263	Common Gallinule	Gallinula galeata
264	Purple Gallinule	Porphyrio martinicus

Species recorded during Big Day but not pictured in slideshow

	Northern Bobwhite	Colinus virginianus
	Pacific Loon	Gavia pacifica
	White-tailed Kite	Elanus leucurus
	Clapper Rail	Rallus longirostris
	American Oystercatcher	Haematopus palliatus
	Baird’s Sandpiper	Calidris bairdii
	Royal Tern	Thalasseus maximus
	Yellow-billed Cuckoo	Coccyzus americanus
	Lesser Nighthawk	Chordeiles acutipennis
	Common Poorwill	Phalaenoptilus nuttallii
	Chimney Swift	Chaetura pelagica
	Ruby-throated Hummingbird	Archilochus colubris
	Golden-fronted Woodpecker	Melanerpes aurifrons
	Brown-crested Flycatcher	Myiarchus tyrannulus
	Loggerhead Shrike	Lanius ludovicianus
	White-eyed Vireo	Vireo griseus
	Bell’s Vireo	Vireo bellii
	Black-capped Vireo	Vireo atricapilla
	Hutton’s Vireo	Vireo huttoni
	Yellow-breasted Chat	Icteria virens
	Green-tailed Towhee	Pipilo chlorurus
	Summer Tanager	Piranga rubra
	Pyrrhuloxia	Cardinalis sinuatus
	Blue Grosbeak	Passerina caerulea
	Indigo Bunting	Passerina cyanea
	Bullock’s Oriole	Icterus bullockii
	Yellow Rail	Coturnicops noveboracensis
	Boat-tailed Grackle	Quiscalus major

(Photos courtesy Chris Wood and Tim Lenz.)

World Series results: Epic day of migration finds Cornell Lab teams at front of pack

Hugh — Tue, 15 May 2012 17:41:49 +0000

With hordes of migrant songbirds fluttering in the bushes of southern New Jersey on Saturday, two Cornell teams posted strong finishes in the 29th annual World Series of Birding. The student Redheads team scored 168 species with their new lineup, enough to take second place in the Cape May County division. And the bicycle-powered Anti-Petrels netted 164 species while riding 102 miles, winning the Carbon Footprint Challenge for the third straight year.

But on a day like Saturday, that winning feeling was spread liberally throughout the competition. Birders walked into Sunday’s brunch still reeling and bemused from the onslaught of warblers, thrushes, grosbeaks, and orioles they’d seen—a daylong kaleidoscope of blue, yellow, black, orange, red, and green flashing from the bushes. Almost every team, when asked how their day went, summed it up the way Redheads captain Hope Batcheller did, saying “It was just a really phenomenal day; we had a blast. Several people on the team were like, ‘That’s the best day of birding I’ve ever had.’”

If you ask me, that potential for surprise is why people participate in this conservation fundraiser—to witness a natural spectacle that can occur on a scale that people can scarcely imagine. It can occur, but it’s not guaranteed to occur, and that’s what turns people into bird watchers and conservationists. Serendipity is a feature of nature—it’s the thing that sets natural entertainments apart from the digital and the electronic. A favorite movie is the same every time you watch it. A favorite walk in the woods is different every time, and in that difference is the magic of the world.

Redheads score “phenomenal” day

For the Redheads, good omens arrived before dawn, with a Long-eared Owl and Least Bittern in Tuckahoe marsh. By the time they hit Cape May point at dawn there were “five or ten warblers in every bush,” Hope said (including the aptly named but uncommon Cape May Warbler). An odd call emanating from a grassy field led them not just to a Dickcissel—another coveted mark on the day’s checklist—but also a Bobolink, perched right next to it.

The best days often include a painful miss, but even this had a touch of good humor to it. One of only a handful of Cattle Egrets in southern New Jersey lives right next door to the Redheads’ motel. On Friday it was the first bird they saw on their way out the door, but on Saturday it refused to show. On Sunday morning the egret was right out front on the lawn again, bright and early.

Hope was happy with the performance of the young team and with their route, though she said next year the team might try to time their visits to the coast to hit a tide that produces better shorebirds. The team will have one other hurdle as well: they’ll probably need a new captain, as Hope has plans to study tropical ecology in Costa Rica next spring. But several crackerjack young birders have enrolled at Cornell for next year. This year there was an application process to select team members; next year the students may actually field two teams (the Anti-Petrels want to get them interested in a student bike team).

Anti-Petrels cycle to 164 species

The Anti-Petrels pedaled a similar route to last year but scored a full 20 additional species—evidence of just how blisteringly hot the migration had been the previous night. I’m a member of the team, and the day certainly goes down in my mind as an endless stream of good luck, good weather, and good looks at great birds.

Our highlights included a Black Rail heard in the far distance at Jake’s Landing around 1:30 a.m. Team captain France Dewaghe, who has very sharp ears, picked it out from the background of Whip-poor-will and Marsh Wren calls, but it took a full 15 minutes for Charles Eldermire and me to hear it well enough to count it. Fortunately, the bird was unperturbable and kept calling the whole time. Every so often, I imagine, it turned its tiny bill (these birds are no bigger than tennis balls) toward us and that’s when we heard its unmistakeable kee-kee-kerrr.

I always tell myself never to doubt France’s ears—he’s like Radar O’Reilly on M*A*S*H*, calling out “Louisiana Waterthrush!” or “Prothonotary Warbler!” moments before the rest of us hear the song. But twice that morning we heard strange warbler songs loud and clear—eventually they turned out to belong to a Northern Waterthrush and a Canada Warbler, two species we had never recorded in previous years.

The waterthrush, and the cloud of Magnolia Warblers and Northern Parulas that surrounded it, was our first clue that we were on to an epic day of migration. King Rails called from many of the marshes we rode by; a very rare Black-necked Stilt landed in our main shorebird spot at 5:30 a.m., near a valuable Little Blue Heron and Stilt Sandpiper. Two unusual vireos, Blue-headed and Warbling, showed up in trees virtually next to each other, as well as our World Series nemesis bird, the Rose-breasted Grosbeak, which warbled sweetly from a high branch. The birding was so good that we even managed to find Magnolia Warblers singing dead-on Chestnut-sided Warbler songs—unfortunate actually, since we never did find an actual Chestnut-sided for our list. We left Heislerville at just after 9 a.m. with 112 species on our list.

Our low point came at lunchtime, when we made a special side trip to boost our chances for Gull-billed Tern. We’d seen them there in the driving rain on Wednesday, but the only terns that appeared were slender, long-tailed Forster’s Terns hunting fish from the river channels. We ate Nutella and privately wondered if our luck had turned. One mile down the road, France rode over a broken bottle and we had our second flat of the day (the first had come at 2:30 a.m.).

We got back on track on our way out to the great saltmarshes of Avalon and Nummy Island. The Cattle Egret that eluded the Redheads kindly showed up for us, and so did Yellow-crowned Night-Herons, Whimbrels, American Oystercatchers, and a welcome Common Loon. Red Knots positively glowed in the afternoon light. Our scopes even picked up the glossy backs of horseshoe crabs mating in the shallow water—their eggs are the reason the knots stop here every spring. We even spent a couple of spare minutes watching a Peregrine Falcon flying steep U-shaped dives at another peregrine on the ground, possibly trying to steal a kill.

Our day ended with one more disappointment—no Parasitic Jaegers were to be found harrying terns in the tidal rips off Cape May Point—but this was buttressed by a good run of swallows and an American Crow calling on an island filled with Fish Crows. We finished the day amid the thick mosquitoes of Higbee Beach, scoring Purple Sandpipers alongside Ruddy Turnstones on the rocks and hearing a Barred Owl calling from the woods—the one regular bird species we had missed in the morning. As usual, France heard it first.

Everyone here at the Cornell Lab would like to thank all our sponsors, donors, and supporters for being with us during this Big Day season—from Carl Zeiss Sports Optics and their support of Team Sapsucker, to Bob’s Red Mill and the yummy granola that kept our pedals turning on Saturday, and the many of you who donated, followed us on Facebook, and cheered us on. Thank you.

And if you’re curious about what it’s like to ride bikes and go birding, here’s a short time-lapse of the last couple of miles out to Cape May Meadows and then to Higbee Beach for sunset…

Scouting Day 2: How to Scout for Warblers in New Jersey

Hugh — Fri, 11 May 2012 03:30:24 +0000

Here in New Jersey, the Anti-Petrels spent the morning refining our route for the dawn hours of the World Series of Birding on Saturday. The students of Team Redhead scouted saltmarshes, then headed inland to Belleplain State Forest’s warblers, tanagers, and woodpeckers before hitting Cape May to look for shorebirds and a rare Mississippi Kite. This close to the event, both teams are finalizing their routes, trying to link together the species they need without sinking too much time into travel.

Since we’re a bike-powered team, we have to minimize the amount of back-and-forth riding we do, particularly in the early morning when birds are most active and vocal. A 10-mile side trip by car isn’t a huge investment—but for us it’s close to an hour out of our day. So how do you balance all these concerns? Here’s a look at how our plan for warblers is coming together.

Warblers are one of the main attractions of spring birding—they’re brilliant, frenetic little jewels that come in a great variety, from the ubiquitous, like the Yellow or Yellow-rumped, to skulkers that you long to see, such as Cerulean, Connecticut, and others. Eastern North America has some 40 species of warblers, most of which are at least theoretically possible in southern New Jersey in mid-May. So if you’re looking to stretch your day’s bird list, warblers are essential to focus on. [Watch a Lab video about birding for warblers.]

We’re hoping to record somewhere between 12 and 30 species of warblers on Saturday. To make the task manageable, first we divide them into two categories: resident species that breed in southern New Jersey, and migrants that pass through. The difference between the two groups exemplifies the balance of patience vs serendipity it takes to make a big day work.

The two groups of birds behave differently: residents arrived a while ago and are spread out across the state. As long as we can find them, they’ll stay in the same place from day to day and (usually) sing late into the day. Residents in this part of the state include Yellow-throated, Hooded, Kentucky, Black-and-white, Prairie, Prothonotary, and nine other species. If we can get them all that’s 15 species on our quest for 150 or more total birds for the day—so it’s well worth putting in time to find singing males. This year, we’re worried about Kentucky Warblers, which seem even scarcer than usual. And we always worry about Louisiana Waterthrush: last year we burned 30 minutes waiting for a normally reliable bird to show up. (It never did.)

On the plus side, once we’ve found these breeding birds we can visit them later in the morning, since it takes less luck to find them. That frees up the most active hours (until about 8 a.m.) to look for birds we can’t predict: the migrants. These birds are on their way through the state to breeding grounds farther north. They fly at night, land to refuel for a day or two, and then head on out. The best way to find them is to look early in the morning in low, wooded habitat near the southern tip of the state—which is one reason why Cape May is a world-famous birding spot.

Migrants on a big day are a little like a bonus roll in Yahtzee—we know we’ll get some migrants to add to our base list, but it’s hard to know how many. Among the possibilities are Black-throated Green, Black-throated Blue, Chestnut-sided, Blackpoll, Blackburnian, and 10 others. Last year the World Series fell during a streak of poor migrant weather; we got only the most reliable of these including Black-throated Green, Black-throated Blue, and Blackpoll. But this year, the weather is looking more promising. Yesterday’s storm brought winds from the south (and several Mississippi Kites). Fair weather the next two days, coupled with winds from the west, could encourage a new wave of migrants to cross the bay from Delaware. As Redheads captain Hope Batcheller cautiously predicted in an email, “Migrants are going to be TOTALLY BOSS!!!”

So we spent the morning doing the next best thing to scouting migrants—and that’s scouting migrant habitat. Lots of car-powered teams head straight to Cape May for this; it’s one of the best migrant spots on the Eastern Seaboard. But on our bikes, we need to find our migrants within just a mile or two of where we’ll be at dawn, and also near Heislerville, our shorebird mecca (where we found a Stilt Sandpiper this morning, as well as two Peregrine Falcons. After a morning of searching, we found a grove of low trees, brush, and grasses near the bayshore. And the early results were promising: on an otherwise slow migrant day we found Blackpoll Warbler, Magnolia Warbler, Swainson’s Thrush, Scarlet Tanager, a migrating Eastern Wood-Pewee, and two lingering White-throated Sparrows.

Armed with a good plan for our morning, we’re back to looking for nighttime prospects such as Clapper and King rails, Least Bittern, Seaside and Swamp sparrows, and three owls (Great Horned, Barred, Eastern Screech). After jouncing down a washboarded road we’re deep inside Tuckahoe marsh. It’s a clear night with stars and city lights visible across the moonless reaches—and unfortunately very quiet. As I type, my teammates, France and Charles, bundle up against the chill and walk the road. But all they can hear is frogs. Night scouting has become the next thing to worry about. But thankfully, all the scouting will be over in about 24 hours, when the World Series begins. Thanks to everyone for following along!

(Thanks to Bob’s Red Mill for sponsoring the Anti-Petrels and Carl Zeiss Sports Optics for helping equip the Redheads. You can donate to support the teams here. Photos by Hugh Powell except Peregrine Falcon, by France Dewaghe.)

Sapsuckers Overcome Mishaps, Misfortune to Tie Their Big Day Record [video]

Hugh — Tue, 01 May 2012 05:58:33 +0000

The concept of a Big Day is a bold one—a midnight-to-midnight sleepless birding blitz to see or hear as many species as humanly possible. Team Sapsucker—Chris Wood, Jessie Barry, Andrew Farnsworth, Marshall Iliff, and Tim Lenz—took on that challenge in Texas last year, setting the North American record at 264, and then they doubled-down for Big Day 2012, drawing up a never-before-tried-route that they hoped would net them even more birds.

Their run started in San Antonio in the wee hours of Friday, April 27. After a promising start, misfortune struck in the form of an old nail at a city dump, traffic in Houston, and a late-day shift in the sea breeze. By the time the clock struck midnight, the team had tied their own record of 264 species, getting their final bird with just four minutes to spare.

Big Day 2012 began at midnight with a Yellow-crowned Night Heron at Brackenridge City Park in San Antonio, then a sweep through the city that included a nesting American Robin beneath a streetlight. A flashlight scan yielded a swimming Least Grebe (as Barn and Great Horned owls called), and a bevy of ducks in the moonlight: Canvasbacks, Redheads, Wood Ducks, and Northern Pintails. Three of the team also heard an Elf Owl, but the other two missed it—crucially, as it turned out.

At daybreak, the Sapsuckers scooted west toward Uvalde, an area rich in Mexican birds. During scouting, Iliff had drawn up a plan to connect the dots between the birds, timed to when they began singing at dawn—a Tropical Kingbird at 6:20 a.m., a Green-tailed Towhee at 6:55 a.m., then a Ringed Kingfisher that regularly flew by the same spot at Chalk Bluff Park at 7:08 a.m. The Sapsuckers arrived at 7:04, but the kingfisher didn’t show. A precious half-hour ticked by. The team scooped up a Rufous-capped Warbler—one of very few records ever in the state—and an unexpected American Pipit, but still no Ringed Kingfisher. From there, the team rolled into the Uvalde Fish Hatchery, where the hatchery manager had granted the team special access to pick up Cinnamon Teal, Ring-necked Duck, and Yellow-rumped Warbler—three species the team didn’t see anywhere else during the day.

Next, the team made the fateful decision to go for a Chihuahuan Raven at the Uvalde city dump. They pursued one to the top of the landfill before a whishing sound grabbed their attention: a nail protruding from a rapidly deflating tire. And the spare tire storage mechanism wouldn’t release.

Time to call it quits and try again the following day? Not for team captain Chris Wood. “There are no ‘re-dos’ in Big Day,” he said. “A hockey team couldn’t get into the Stanley Cup playoffs, then decide they’re having a bad day and they want to try again tomorrow. Same thing with Big Day.”

The Sapsuckers pulled into Garza’s Radiator Shop in Uvalde and Wood, speaking Spanish, persuaded the repair man to do a quick fix. “Evidently, he likes birds,” Wood said. Farnsworth sprinted two miles to an ATM while Iliff, Barry, and Lenz huddled around their computer to recalibrate the route. Within 30 minutes the Sapsuckers were back on the road. They had to drop a few locations (and birds) from their route to make up time, but soon the team was in the Hill Country, where they nailed Black-capped Vireo, Golden-cheeked Warbler, and Varied Bunting in short order. Iliff called in a Greater Roadrunner, and by 11:08 the team was leaving the Hill Country for Houston—30 minutes behind schedule, but at roughly 150 birds for the day, a little ahead of where they had hoped to be on their Big Day list thus far.

On the four-hour drive to Houston, Farnsworth used his uncanny skill at long-distance spotting, picking out Cooper’s Hawk, Red-shouldered Hawk, White-tailed Hawk, and Franklin’s Gull from his seat in the back. When the team pulled over to verify the gull they found themselves standing atop a fire ant nest. A painful price, yet worth it, for a bonus bird that migrates at high altitudes and often flies right over Texas.

Near Houston, misfortune returned. Rice fields that were brimming with water, and waterfowl, just a day earlier were almost completely dried up. A flock of 25 Hudsonian Godwits was gone. A few shorebirds pecked around in the muck: Wilson’s Phalarope, Baird’s Sandpiper, and Buff-breasted Sandpiper. In a patch of piney woods in Houston, the Sapsuckers hit eastern species including Downy, Red-bellied, and Red-headed woodpeckers and Prothonotary and Pine warblers, but missed Great Crested Flycatcher. The misses were adding up.

So was the traffic in Houston. Still 30 minutes behind schedule, the Sapsuckers hit rush hour. Farnsworth used driving skills honed in Manhattan to weave through the gridlock and reach the route’s most critical point: the ferry to Port Bolivar. Miss that 4:30 connection, and their Big Day would be over. But the team arrived 15 minutes early—enough time for the authorities to conduct a full inspection of this suspicious-looking car filled with five people with binoculars. The team netted a Magnificent Frigatebird during the crossing, and the ferry arrived in port one minute early.

At Bolivar Flats, the team marched down the beach to rack up several gulls and terns, along with a Lesser Scaup, though they missed American White Pelican. In trees just off the beach, the team found a cluster of eastern migrants such as Rose-breasted Grosbeak, Indigo Bunting, and Baltimore Oriole. At High Island, a legendary spot for migratory songbirds, they scored 15 species in 75 minutes, including Cerulean, Magnolia, and Blackpoll warblers.

But then the sun went down, the winds picked up, and the birding came to a grinding halt. At Anahuac National Wildlife Refuge the team listened for marsh birds in the dark for three hours, adding only Seaside Sparrow, Yellow and King rails, and Common Gallinule. At 11:56 p.m., a Purple Gallinule called once, and that was it. The final bird for Friday, April 27.

Thirty seconds after midnight, several gallinules erupted into a chorus of laughter, and Team Sapsucker laughed right along with them. “It had been a tough day, and we all needed a good laugh,” Wood said.

Minutes later, Iliff tallied the day’s score in the dark, his face illuminated by the glow of his laptop screen. Jubilation at first—265 species, a new record!—then mellowed with the realization that the team had to subtract some birds due to the 95 percent rule. This rule states that 95 percent of the birds on a team’s list must be seen by everyone on the team. Upon double-checking the numbers, Iliff realized that that Elf Owl in San Antonio wasn’t unanimous. Off the list it came, and the day’s tally dropped to 264—a repeat of the record.

In tying the record—tallying 11 new species every hour of the day, or one new species every five and a half minutes, all day long—the Sapsuckers proved once again how remarkable a record of 264 species in 24 hours really is. More importantly, though, the generosity of all of our Big Day donors helped us raise needed funds for the Lab’s conservation work. Sponsorship by Carl Zeiss Sports Optics ensured that all donations go directly to conservation.

Of course, that doesn’t mean the Sapsuckers aren’t already thinking about getting just one more. As Farnsworth said, “We’ll definitely be coming back to Texas again next year.”

Though next time, they might avoid the dump.

Special Thank-You Video From Team Sapsucker

On the day after Big Day, the members of Team Sapsucker took a few minutes to say a big thank-you to all who donated or pledged in our biggest fundraiser of the year.

And for those of you keeping track at home, here’s Team Sapsucker’s Final Big Day 2012 List
(in taxonomic order)

Black-bellied Whistling-Duck
Fulvous Whistling-Duck
Wood Duck
Gadwall
American Wigeon
Mallard
Mottled Duck
Blue-winged Teal
Cinnamon Teal
Northern Shoveler
Northern Pintail
Canvasback
Redhead
Ring-necked Duck
Lesser Scaup
Red-breasted Merganser
Ruddy Duck
Northern Bobwhite
Wild Turkey
Pacific Loon
Common Loon
Least Grebe
Pied-billed Grebe
Brown Pelican
Neotropic Cormorant
Double-crested Cormorant
Anhinga
Magnificent Frigatebird
American Bittern
Great Blue Heron
Great Egret
Snowy Egret
Little Blue Heron
Tricolored Heron
Reddish Egret
Cattle Egret
Green Heron
Black-crowned Night-Heron
Yellow-crowned Night-Heron
White Ibis
White-faced Ibis
Roseate Spoonbill
Black Vulture
Turkey Vulture
Osprey
Swallow-tailed Kite
White-tailed Kite
Mississippi Kite
Northern Harrier
Cooper’s Hawk
Harris’s Hawk
Red-shouldered Hawk
Broad-winged Hawk
Swainson’s Hawk
White-tailed Hawk
Red-tailed Hawk
Crested Caracara
Peregrine Falcon
Yellow Rail
Clapper Rail
King Rail
Sora
Purple Gallinule
Common Gallinule
American Coot
Black-bellied Plover
Snowy Plover
Wilson’s Plover
Semipalmated Plover
Piping Plover
Killdeer
American Oystercatcher
Black-necked Stilt
American Avocet
Spotted Sandpiper
Solitary Sandpiper
Greater Yellowlegs
Willet
Lesser Yellowlegs
Upland Sandpiper
Whimbrel
Long-billed Curlew
Marbled Godwit
Ruddy Turnstone
Red Knot
Sanderling
Semipalmated Sandpiper
Least Sandpiper
White-rumped Sandpiper
Baird’s Sandpiper
Pectoral Sandpiper
Dunlin
Stilt Sandpiper
Buff-breasted Sandpiper
Short-billed Dowitcher
Long-billed Dowitcher
Wilson’s Phalarope
Laughing Gull
Franklin’s Gull
Ring-billed Gull
Herring Gull
Lesser Black-backed Gull
Least Tern
Gull-billed Tern
Caspian Tern
Black Tern
Common Tern
Forster’s Tern
Royal Tern
Sandwich Tern
Black Skimmer
Rock Pigeon
Eurasian Collared-Dove
White-winged Dove
Mourning Dove
Inca Dove
Common Ground-Dove
White-tipped Dove
Monk Parakeet
Yellow-billed Cuckoo
Greater Roadrunner
Barn Owl
Eastern Screech-Owl
Great Horned Owl
Elf Owl
Barred Owl
Lesser Nighthawk
Common Nighthawk
Common Pauraque
Common Poorwill
Chuck-will’s-widow
Chimney Swift
Ruby-throated Hummingbird
Black-chinned Hummingbird
Belted Kingfisher
Green Kingfisher
Red-headed Woodpecker
Golden-fronted Woodpecker
Red-bellied Woodpecker
Ladder-backed Woodpecker
Downy Woodpecker
Eastern Wood-Pewee
Acadian Flycatcher
Black Phoebe
Eastern Phoebe
Vermilion Flycatcher
Ash-throated Flycatcher
Brown-crested Flycatcher
Great Kiskadee
Tropical Kingbird
Couch’s Kingbird
Western Kingbird
Eastern Kingbird
Scissor-tailed Flycatcher
Loggerhead Shrike
White-eyed Vireo
Bell’s Vireo
Black-capped Vireo
Yellow-throated Vireo
Hutton’s Vireo
Red-eyed Vireo
Blue Jay
Green Jay
Western Scrub-Jay
American Crow
Chihuahuan Raven
Common Raven
Horned Lark
Northern Rough-winged Swallow
Purple Martin
Bank Swallow
Barn Swallow
Cliff Swallow
Cave Swallow
Carolina Chickadee
Tufted Titmouse
Black-crested Titmouse
Verdin
Cactus Wren
Rock Wren
Canyon Wren
Carolina Wren
Bewick’s Wren
Sedge Wren
Blue-gray Gnatcatcher
Black-tailed Gnatcatcher
Eastern Bluebird
Gray-cheeked Thrush
Swainson’s Thrush
Wood Thrush
American Robin
Gray Catbird
Northern Mockingbird
Long-billed Thrasher
Curve-billed Thrasher
European Starling
American Pipit
Cedar Waxwing
Tennessee Warbler
Orange-crowned Warbler
Nashville Warbler
Northern Parula
Tropical Parula
Yellow Warbler
Magnolia Warbler
Yellow-rumped Warbler
Golden-cheeked Warbler
Black-throated Green Warbler
Yellow-throated Warbler
Pine Warbler
Blackpoll Warbler
Cerulean Warbler
Black-and-white Warbler
American Redstart
Prothonotary Warbler
Ovenbird
Northern Waterthrush
Kentucky Warbler
Common Yellowthroat
Rufous-capped Warbler
Yellow-breasted Chat
Olive Sparrow
Green-tailed Towhee
Canyon Towhee
Cassin’s Sparrow
Rufous-crowned Sparrow
Chipping Sparrow
Clay-colored Sparrow
Field Sparrow
Lark Sparrow
Black-throated Sparrow
Lark Bunting
Savannah Sparrow
Grasshopper Sparrow
Le Conte’s Sparrow
Nelson’s Sparrow
Seaside Sparrow
White-throated Sparrow
White-crowned Sparrow
Summer Tanager
Scarlet Tanager
Northern Cardinal
Pyrrhuloxia
Rose-breasted Grosbeak
Blue Grosbeak
Indigo Bunting
Varied Bunting
Painted Bunting
Dickcissel
Red-winged Blackbird
Eastern Meadowlark
Western Meadowlark
Yellow-headed Blackbird
Brewer’s Blackbird
Common Grackle
Boat-tailed Grackle
Great-tailed Grackle
Bronzed Cowbird
Brown-headed Cowbird
Orchard Oriole
Hooded Oriole
Bullock’s Oriole
Baltimore Oriole
House Finch
Lesser Goldfinch
House Sparrow

The Big Year: A College Student’s Review

admin — Mon, 31 Oct 2011 18:39:40 +0000

There’s a clear split in public opinion about The Big Year. While typical moviegoers basically yawned a collective yawn, bird watchers generally saw it as a sweet, gentle movie with refreshing care paid to the details (see comments on our overall review and detailed review for more reactions). So we thought it would be interesting to get the viewpoint of someone outside the main bird watching demographic. We asked Anna Autilio, a Cornell sophomore and an excellent young writer who’s been interning at the Cornell Lab, to see the movie and give us her reactions. Anna doesn’t regard herself as a birder, although we’ll let you decide for yourself by the end of her essay. Here’s Anna:

I am not a birder, though my friends will disagree when I slow the car subconsciously in reverence for a passing hawk or vulture. I personally feel you are not human if you don’t pause to admire a male cardinal streaking across the winter landscape. Still, I can perhaps understand the draw of birding more than the typical Jack Black fan who goes to see “The Big Year,” a comedy about extreme birding. I own a handful of field guides, but I don’t keep a life list, so I was very interested to see how competitive birding, this unique microcosm of passionate, obsessive people, was depicted.

My own experience with birding and birders really comes from two weeks I spent on Hog Island at the Maine Audubon Society’s Coastal Bird Studies Camp when I was a high school sophomore. I remember distinctly standing on the dock, before camp had even begun, and my fellow campers had already intimidated me. No older than me, they talked about places they’d been and birds they’d seen that I had never heard of before—Soras, mousebirds, Wekas, and Spotted Shags. I thought I knew something about birds, and I’d been fascinated by them ever since my parents stuck a feeder in the ground right outside our kitchen window when I was 11. Now these teenagers, to whom I’d only just been introduced, were far beyond me.

But they had just as passionate an interest in animals and nature as I did. I don’t think I understood then what I was gaining from them. We ate dinner with Steve Kress, the man who brought nesting Atlantic Puffins back to Maine in the 1970s, watched Scott Weidensaul and Sara Morris band birds at 5:30 in the morning, and played with the parabolic microphone of Macaulay Library audio curator Greg Budney (by all rushing at it yelling while he had the headphones on). We took hiking trips around the island, through swamps on the mainland, and into Acadia National Park.

All the while, my fellow campers awed me with their knowledge. I loved talking to them, living with them, laughing with them, and though I knew I couldn’t tell you whether that speck in the sky was a Sharp-shinned or a Cooper’s, and that I simply would never be able to distinguish between warbler calls, I had found a world of people interested in nature just like me.

“The Big Year” takes the viewer into a world quite different from this—the world of competitive birding—but it doesn’t lose sight of what really matters to most birders—the birds themselves. In a scene on Attu Island, Black’s character spots two Bald Eagles in the middle of a talon-locked, free-fall mating display. Owen Wilson’s character dismisses it. “Bald Eagles? We all got those five months ago.” But he does stay to watch the spectacular sight. That is my view of birding, or what birding should be. It’s one of the few contests in which competitors can and willingly do stand back, for a moment at least, to admire nature working.

When the movie gets around to its most important point, of why birders do what they do, it makes it beautifully—a moment Black’s character shares with his father, who has not been supportive of his son’s money-draining expedition to see birds. But one day he relents, going with his son on a walk in their snowy, wooded backyard, and begins to understand how much his son has gained from this experience—and it’s not just a check mark on a list.

I think this is the real reason birders are so obsessed. Birds are not only right in our backyards, but they are diverse, beautiful, intelligent, and can do at least one thing humans have always strived to do—fly. The film provides the uninitiated (and potential?) birder with a window into a world that may seem full of people with binoculars glued to their faces, but is actually filled with true passion, intellect, and heart. I recommend to anyone who thinks they might be even remotely interested in birds or birding to see this film and to share that one great thing: passion for birds.

If you liked the movie, check out these posts for more:

(Image: Sharp-shinned Hawk by Laurie-B via Birdshare)