Southbound

February 19th 

Up at o-dark-thirty, I made it to Pinnacles National Park, about three hours south of San Francisco, by sunrise. I'd seen California Condors twice before; ten years ago over around Big Sur and also at the Grand Canyon. Pinnacles was a new park for me - and man do I love exploring new places! I was told to enter the park from the east and watch for condors roosting on the pinnacles. Not having found one through intensive scope searches from the parking lot, I  decided I might as well start hiking. I found myself in another of those situations where maybe I didn't do as much research as I should have (I had no cell reception for miles and miles before entering the park, as well as within it), and once again, likely due to covid policies, there were not staff to be found in the park, I  picked a seemingly random trail and started hiking. Up, up, and up, and all the way over the top of nearly the highest peak in the park I went. Oak Titmice (new for the year) greeted me all along my way. As I was approaching the top, a binocular-less man walking down told me the condors were just on the other side! I was excited this strenuous hike was going to pay off! Much to my dismay, on the other side, I found a mere kettle of about a dozen turkey vultures, testing out the morning's air currents. No condors anywhere, but one of the prettiest views I've had in my life! 

Pinnacles National Park 

Meticulous binocular scans detected a very distant Prairie Falcon over on the next set of cliffs. I gave it about twenty minutes at the top before admitting defeat and starting the journey back down. Back at the parking lot, I drove in the direction out of the park, to a viewing area for the pinnacles. I figured I might as well spend a few more minutes scanning with my scope. After ten minutes, I noticed movement in my peripherals. Yes! Three California Condors were riding a thermal up, circled over the hillside for a few minutes, and then glided out of view. I soaked in every second of it! With a nine foot wingspan, these birds sure were iconic and awe-inspiring. 

Yellow-billed Magpie has a very protracted range through just a sliver of California, and therefore I was a bit concerned about possibly missing these birds, on my quick one-day drive from San Francisco to San Diego. Upon leaving the park, though, my worries were soon relieved. They lined the road edges and power lines on my drive south of the park. Driving just 20 minutes more, a Golden Eagle graced me with its powerful presence, flying high over the road. 

Time was not in my favor, as the daylight hours were racing by. I drove for over an hour without cell reception, not entirely sure I was going the most efficient direction, with half a tank of gas in my tiny Chevy Spark. The back country highways were desolate, and I tried to push thoughts of what might happen if I broke down on the side of the road out of my mind. An oil change just before leaving down uncovered a slow transmission leak. The part had to be ordered and wouldn't be in for a week, but my mechanic gave me the all clear to drive to Arizona and back, but I was now a few thousand miles past that...

I got to Dana Point, north of Los Angles, about half an hour before sunset. I parked, jumped out, walked to the end of the parking lot, and set my scope sights on the jetty, and there it was, an adult Masked Booby hanging out with the gulls. It wasn't an amazing look, but it was identifiable. I'm very much a fan of enjoyable birding through close, great detailed looks, but as I've been learning, there's a give and take with Big Year birding. Some are ultimately going to have to be boxes checked. I folded up my tripod, heading back to my car while making a mental note to be sure to continue to enjoy the birds throughout the year and not just see them as numbers. I reflected back on the day, and the glorious condors soaring over the hillside. I spent an hour in stop and go traffic in LA after eight hours of driving, but I was elated. How lucky am I to be spending my days, not much unlike the birds, wherever the wind takes me?

My day finished in San Diego, with dinner with Clay from Swarovski, filling him in on my Big Year updates and getting the run down of the logistics for the next day. I'd be on a boat with a pile of binoculars for San Diego Birding Festival participants to try. 

February 20th 

Clay and I met at the dock, along with the 25 or so bird festival participants. I was a combination of stoked and annoyed to be getting on my first boat ever off of the west coast! Stoked, because I  was certain to pick up life birds, and annoyed, because I dislike boats (I don't usually get incredibly sea sick, but usually just ill enough to be looking forward to land after a handful of hours) and I also dislike distant, less-than-satisfying looks at birds. 

New Seaforth, our boat for the day!

After a little boat trouble (working bathrooms are essential!), we coordinated schedules with Paul Lehman (I finally got to meet him - our paths had just barely not crossed over a decade ago during the times he and I each lived in Cape May, New Jersey), we did an impromptu guided bird walk around the harbor area (Brant was new!)  we were on the water about an hour and a half behind schedule. I  was elated at how many mother / daughter couples were on the boat! Two grown pairs, and a woman and her eager teenage daughter. A father had also brought his young daughter along. I particularly enjoyed chatting with the women on the boat, and at one point confused one of the women for another - I suddenly realized I'm so used to there being no women my age around in the birding scene, that I hadn't paid much mind to paying attention to the field marks that would require me to identify one from the other. Good thing I'm better at identifying birds than I am 30-year-old women, or I'd be set up for a tough year ahead. 

Pomarine Jaeger, Sooty Shearwater, Brown Booby and Pink-footed Shearwater joined hundreds of Black-vented Shearwater both on the water and on my year list. One or two spotters on the boat called out Cassin's Auklet and Scripp's Murrelet, but most, or all, of the participants missed them, and I was no exception. Removing them from my version of the shared eBird checklist when it was received a few days later felt painful. Scripp's Murrelet was a tough miss that I'd have to hope to find time to go back for later.