Accidental California

February 14 (continued)

....onward I went. Being between jobs, it made no sense for me to continue westward, but I happened to have a friend staying in San Diego for a few days for work, so I decided to crash there and bird Southern California. My first stop after leaving Phoenix was to hit the Salton Sea, trying for the female Garganey that has been see in the harbor pretty regularly all winter. No such luck with the Garganey, but I did get great looks at California Gnatcatcher, and found Western Gulls and Common Goldeneye as well. 

February 15 

Birding near Tijuana provided Tricolored Blackbirds, confiding views of an gorgeous male Allen's Hummingbird, nearly a dozen Snowy Plovers anxious to start nesting, and Western Grebes. I made the hike all the way down the jetty at Tijuana Sloughs in search of Pacific Golden Plover with no luck. There were a bunch of Black-bellied Plovers roosting up in the dunes, and many were out of sight. Seeing a bird is never worth disturbing birds. Back I went, leaving Pacific Golden Plover to (hopefully) be seen another day. 

From there, I went over to look for the long-staying (read: very long staying) Thick-billed Kingbird in San Diego. I had actually tried for the same bird almost nine years ago and missed it! It took almost two hours, but I finally found the bird in the very spot I started looking - in a few tall trees in the middle of a small neighborhood community's greenbelt. California Towhee and Cassin's Kingbird were also new birds for me here. 

Suddenly I realized I had left the Tijuana area this morning without a Ridgeway's Rail, so I headed back. Having scrolled through Thick-billed Kingbird checklists to sift through any notes of detailed locations the bird had been seen recently, my friend Mandy's name popped up. I hadn't seen her in the nine years since I'd been to California - we had met while I lived in Cape May, NJ - and I'd totally forgotten she lives in San Diego! She agreed to meet me back at Tijuana Slough's NWR, and we walked the boardwalk and soon out popped a Ridgeway's Rail. While this bird has a good sized range, I was trying to do my best to treat my Big Year as though I was never coming back to the places I was at - at some point this year I will probably need to get a job, and finances will certainly limit my travel regardless, so the more birds I am able to see while I'm here, the better. It will streamline any potential chase needs later. Western Meadowlarks called in the distance and Mandy and I returned to the parking lot. While brief, it was great to catch up with an old friend, and the lack of social interaction I've had the majority of the last year made it even better. 

February 16 

Most birders know La Jolla Cove, 20 minutes north of San Diego, as the go-to place to seawatch from land. Despite it being mid-February, Brandt's Cormorants had already begun nesting, their brilliant blue gular patches nearly fluorescent in the morning light. A few Pelagic Cormorants were flying from their evening roost and out to see to feed, easily recognizable in flight with their white patch flashing near their rear. Black-vented Shearwaters fed in distant, scope views, along with a Parasitic Jaeger terrorizing the gulls. A few adult Heermann's Gulls are a top contender for prettiest gull in the US, in my book. More careful investigation of the rocky cliffs turned up a few Black Turnstones, awkwardly making their way across the rough rock. 

Next stop was Los Angeles, at the Ballona Creek jetties, in hopes of Wandering Tattler. Pacific Loon, White-winged Scoter, Black Oystercatcher, Surfbird, and California Gull were new birds for me, but over an hour of scanning and repositioning myself to see the jetties from different angles did not turn result in the target bird. 

I made it to Montana de Oro State Park in San Luis Obispo (beautiful, incredible park and highly recommended for the scenery alone), around 4:00 pm, with two hours of daylight remaining. A Streak-ba cked Oriole had been seen in this park for several months. I almost learned a hard lesson with this bird! As I winded down the road several miles into the park, suddenly I realized I had no cell reception. I had figured someone would greet me at the park entrance and could likely point me in the direction of the bird. No such luck, as the "entrance" was miles down the road and there were no staff in sight. I text messaged a friend and it went through, but he was unable to message back. Shoot! Where in this giant park was the bird being seen? Finally, it occurred to me that I was subscribed to the ABA Daily Rarities email, and the emails were downloaded to my phone. I scrolled down through several emails which mentioned Streak-backed Oriole, and was able to piece together enough information to put the puzzle together "cactus" "bridge" "ranch house"-- then found the area of the park where all three are present. Whew! Note to self: Always complete research beforehand. 

I set myself up on the side of the road near the cactus, and waited. After about 30 minutes, I heard a rattle call in the scrubby brush nearby. YES! I waited for it to fly on over to the cactus to feed, as certainly that's what it'd do next. It never showed! How terrible is a heard-only oriole?!?! It was almost more painful than not having seen or heard it at all. Heard-only makes sense for difficult to see birds like rails, but an oriole? A life bird I've never once seen? It feels dirty, but its call is very distinct and I was certain I hadn't confused it with anything else. The time I spent waiting was not completely in vein, though, as Golden-crowned Sparrow, Wrentit, California Thrasher, Pacific Wren, California Scrub-Jay, Nuttall's Woodpecker and California Quail all graced me with their presence and entertained me while I waited. 

I left the park, and once I reached cell reception, checked in with my friend Dorian, who I was supposed to be meeting with that evening. I gave him the frustrating news, and he understood my desire to try again for the oriole in the morning. I camped at Morro Bay State Park, 20 minutes down the road, and wouldn't have to backtrack far. 

February 17

I was back at sunrise to try again. I was much quicker at getting to the location, knowing exactly where to go. Now to debate how much time to spend. Dorian would be waiting for me in Santa Cruz when I got there, nailing down White Wagtail for me even before I arrived, so that we could save time for all that we had planned for the rest of the day. I gave it two hours, but the Streak-backed Oriole never appeared. I left frustrated, but was also anxious for the wagtail and all the other rarities I was needing to cross off my list in the San Francisco Bay Area. I noted my anxiety, and recognized there was no need for me to be as anxious as I was - the birds would either be there, or not, when I arrived. I had no set timeline to need to get back to Texas. This trip - the space, the time away from the working world - has definitely been helpful in putting me more in touch and in tune with my emotions and the reasons behind them. I think I'll be thankful for that, for years to come. 

Dorian delivered, as promised, and had a bead set right on the White Wagtail for me when I arrived in Santa Cruz. A life bird for me, we spent about 30 minutes watching it bounce around amongst the rocks (it should really be called a bobtail or a bounce tail, not a wagtail), and then continued north. I'd be remiss if I didn't mention I finally got to meet Dorian's dog, Roody! Dorian and I both fall within the subset of humans who don't ever want to have kids - and we have been exchanging cute photos of our dogs for years. I met Dorian on his biking big year in 2014, and the only thing my dog, Puppet, has ever torn up, was one pair of Dorian's stinky, dirty socks that he'd left out in the yard one night while he was crashing on my couch. Now, years later, I finally got to meet Roody in real life! Tufted Duck, Mew Gull, Fox Sparrow, and a tame Rock Sandpiper each were individual stops for the rest of the day. 

February 18

I left my car at Dorian's place and we birded together for the day. After driving a few thousand miles, the break from driving was welcomed and appreciated. We started at Golden Gate Park, in hopes of finding the Varied Thrush recently seen there. We were treated to great views of a few Townsend's Warblers, Pygmy Nuthatches and Chestnut-backed Chickadees...and I finally was able to cross off Hutton's Vireo, after having sorted through who-knows-how-many Ruby-crowned Kinglets in search of one with a larger, hooked bill. After about an hour and a half, we finally gave up on the Varied Thrush search, having sorted through American Robins over and over. A quick restroom stop on the way out, and then we'd be on our way. Only, while I was waiting (covid-style, far behind another woman) to wash my hands, Dorian yelled from outside, into the direction of the restrooms. I raced outside, got my bins on the bird, probably yelled out a bit in excitement, and then ran back into the restrooms to wash my hands. The woman ahead of me had been startled, and as she was leaving, I heard Dorian explain the situation to her. Off we went. 

By nothing short of happenstance, I had happened to reach out to Clay with Swarovski, as I am a field tech working occasionally for him. He happened to be in California also, and needed some help with the San Diego Birding Festival on Saturday, for a pelagic trip. Today was Thursday. I agreed to join. The added birds from the boat would help my year list - but would also shorten the window of time I had to find the birds I needed in San Francisco. Yikes. I was flying by the seat of my pants, and really, this whole two weeks so far had been nothing planned, just one happening after another and me driving in whatever direction I felt magnetized to at that moment. 

Seawatching at Pescadero provided the additions of Glaucous-winged Gull, Marbled Murrelet, and Common Murre; my lifer Red-breasted Sapsucker was at Ulistac Natural Area, and then a Barrow's goldeneye in Redwood City. Finally, we drove to the spot in San Francisco that had been hosting a Harlequin Duck all winter. The park was closing to vehicles as we arrived! Quick to invent a new plan, Dorian suggested we drive the two miles back to his house, and bicycle into the the park instead. Hesitant, having not ridden a bicycle since mine was stolen seven years ago, and doubly-hesitant because I'd never biked in the street before - let alone on the streets of San Francisco, I finally agreed, knowing that anyone who biked over 18,000 miles in a year to watch birds probably knew what he was doing. We biked, and it was a rush! My fears turned into excitement as my blood got pumping. We weren't able to locate the bird after all, but it was fun to have a tiny four miles of my big year be classic Dorian-style.