Sandpiper, that is.  More on that in a bit.

As expected, Sunday night was a little uncomfortable, and even five days later shifting positions reminds me a lot of my trek up Jocelyn Hill.  The good news is that walking and standing are pretty much unaffected.

Monday was another attempt at the Harris’s Sparrow in Nanaimo.  It was last reported about 10 days ago, but since it was the only one reported on the island this winter, and there was nothing else chaseable on the radar, it seemed like a good plan.  Daniel Donnecke accompanied me from Victoria, but our luck wasn’t any better this time around than on previous trips.  We did find a flock that included Golden-crowned Sparrows along Raines Rd, but couldn’t find any oddities in the group.  I did manage to get a fly-by Violet-green Swallow at the estuary viewing platform to bring my total to 152, though. Time for exploring!

As you may recall, part of my plan this year is to see places I haven’t seen.  I don’t have to go too far to reach this goal.  After a refreshment break at you-know-where, we decided to take a random route starting at Cranberry Rd.  Eventually, this led us to Nanaimo River Rd and a very positive sign:  The Trans-Canada Trail sign.

This section of the trail has just recently been finished–sort of.  There is still no bridge across the river, which is a pretty significant obstacle to through travellers.  The trail is approximately 200 km on Vancovuer Island, from Victoria to Nanaimo, but still with some pretty large incomplete sections. 

Following the Pipeline Trail down to the Nanaimo River, we saw and heard very few birds, but we still enoyed the beautiful views and  a bit of fun.

My family on my father’s side lived in Nanaimo, working in the coal mines and running a general store in this area.  I couldn’t help but wonder if my ancestors has played on the same riverbanks.

From there we headed home, but the timing seemed right to check for the Short-eared Owl at Cowichan Bay.  We missed the owl, but were treated to 204 swans and a spectacular sunset.

 

 

Tuesday was the planned day for a return to Jocelyn Hill in an attempt to find my missing glasses. I was almost at the critical point when a text arrived on my phone.  Mary Robichaud and the Tuesday Birders had found  a Rock Sandpiper at Cattle Point-45 minutes of walking and 45 minutes of driving away. Unfortunately my course was set for the time being.

Through skills acquired during a stint in Saanich Search and Rescue, I was able to find my “skid marks” (yes, I said skid marks– are we all 10 year olds at heart?), but I was not able to find my glasses.
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Perhaps they just shifted at this point, and fell off on another section of the trail.  Maybe someone found them and picked them up. Or… Could they have fallen off during some other event on my walk, such as a little trip into the bushes–at the summit.  Ergh!  So for the second time in three days, I headed to the top of Jocelyn Hill.  Eyeglasses, it turns out, are at least as difficult to find as Solitaires. Jocelyn Hill: 2; Solitaires and eyeglasses: 0.

Now, I was behind schedule again and had a blood donation appointment ahead. With just enough time for a quick stop at Tim’s for a tea and pre-donation snack, I headed back to town.  I am a strong supporter of the Canadian Blood Services and try to be a regular contributor (this was my 90th donation), but man, they need to make things a little faster for the donors.  They’ve reduced the number of chairs, so unless the place is empty, donations will take a long time.  I was there an hour before I even got into a chair, and 90 minutes by the time it was all over, including the cookies.  Didn’t they know there was a Rock Sandpiper in the area?

As I left, another text message, this time from Nathan Hentze.  He wanted to make sure I knew about the bird.  I am really appreciating all of the tips and support from the birding community on the island. This big year would be little without everyone’s participation and help!  I assured him I was on my way.

On arrival at Cattle Point, I was a little discouraged.  The tide was WAAAY in, and there were a lot of people and their pets.  What were the odds in these circumstances?  I got out and scanned the area with my bins, finding one Black Turnstone directly ahead and off to my left, two Killdeer and what looked like three sleeping shorebirds on a distant rock.  Hmmm… Scope time!

Confirming that they were indeed birds, I went for a closer look. They were near the tip off  the vernal pond enclosure, and when I got a better angle on them, I could see that (besides the Killdeer on the left), there were three Surfbirds.  But, was that another head I could now see?  Look just to the left of the Surfbirds, just above the rock crest.Yes!  When they started moving around, I could see that despite the odds, I had found the Rock Sandpiper (153)!

 

This species is much less common in Victoria than it used to be.  It can still be found pretty regularly on the off-shore islands, but it was not a “given” for my big year.  I am very happy to have that one on the list.

Looking around, I was not the only one to see this bird. Marie O’Shaugnessy was on the point as well, and over then next hour or so, visiting birders from Point Pelee, Jacques Sirois, Daniel Donnecke, Barb and Mike McGrenere, and Bill Katz all managed to catch a glimpse of the bird. It joined up with about half a dozen Black Turnstones, and moved around the area, but stayed close enough for good views by everyone, in addition to putting on a show for the Tuesday group in the morning.  Very cooperative for a Rock Sandpiper!

 

 

 

The weather in Victoria has been pretty spectacular lately, lining up quite nicely with my plan to try to get out birding every day.  Last week, Daniel Donnecke and Mike McGrenere saw Townsend’s Solitaires on Jocelyn Hill, so today seemed like a fine day for a trek.

I set out on my own, carrying more gear than I usually do.  I figured that it might not hurt to carry a bit more weight while hillclimbing in order to strengthen the legs and lungs because ptarmigan are not completely off the table yet. To tackle the big hills, I really need to get into better shape.

I probably wasn’t five minutes along the trail when my calves were protesting much more than I expected.  After all, I did this hike with Rick Schortinghuis and Liam Singh in January, and I have been out walking/hiking a lot more since January 1 than before.   Why was this such a struggle??  Then I remembered that I was carrying a pack.  Duh!

It’s been a long time since I hiked this park on my own, and I think the last time was the time that I got lost.  Well, not really lost, but on the wrong trail which ended up turning a three hour hike into about an eight hour hike.  I definitely didn’t want to do that again.  So I was diligent about checking the trail signs. The thing about trail signs is that they really need a few key points to make them valuable: a “you are here” mark, a scale AND distances (because if you are going up and down hills a lot, 1 km on the map can actually be 3 km on the trail), and ALL the trails near the sign marked.  The first sign I came to had a nice map, but no indication of where I was, and only showed 2 of the 4 trails at that junction.  Fortunately, I knew where I was at that point.

Making my way to the Ridge Trail, I headed for Jocelyn Hill.  I took my time enjoying the singing Dark-eyed Juncos and early blooming spring flowers along the way.  Yes, March 1, Canada, flowers already in bloom!

As you climb higher, the views can be spectacular.  Note Mt. Finlayson, from the opposite side of my earlier post.

It took me two hours to reach the top at what I’d describe as a leisurely pace.  There were a few others enjoying the park today, including trail runners.  And people think birders are crazy!

At the summit, Manzanita was in bloom attracting flies and bees to the flowers.

One thing I have noticed about park signage is that it is almost always inadequate.  When you are at the top of Jocelyn Hill, there are no signs or maps to aid you on your return.  I took the road most travelled, which turned out to be a mistake in more ways than one.

I figured I would be able to get back to my car in 60 to 90 minutes, heading my favourite direction: down.
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Along the trail, fungi were in fine form.

 

 

 

And for the most part, so was the trail.  I came across a few watery areas that made me thing boots might have been a better choice than runners, but no big deal.  However, when I came to the first sign, I realized I had missed the Lower Jocelyn Loop and was now returning via the Timberman Trail, a much longer route.  Not only was it longer, but I came across a couple of really muddy sections that took up the whole trail.  I managed to work around the first one but the second, larger one managed its work on me.

I hadn’t fallen totally into the mud, but slipped off the edge so the side of one pant leg was now muddy and one shoe was wet and muddy.  This would turn out to be my downfall–literally.

Back on solid ground–or at least hard-packed mud–I was on my way again.  But wet mud on slick mud is not a good combination and my feet went out from under me.  Normally, I’m a pretty good dancer when I slip and can often regain my balance, but the added weight and position of my pack doomed me and I landed hard on my butt, bruising my tailbone.  I’ve had this injury before so I know what to expect.  The good news is that standing and even walking aren’t too difficult even with a bruised tailbone.  Sitting and getting up and down won’t be much fun for a few days though.  Even rolling over in bed is likely to be a painful experience for a while. I avoided the temptation of taking indignity selfies of either of these mud incidents.

Now muddy on the back as well as the side of my formerly clean jeans, I continued on the trail. I came to one long steep rock-strewn section that made me hope I was really on the right trail, as I sure didn’t want to have to come back up that way.   Unfortunately, what goes down, surely must go up again, and when I got to the bottom, there was an equally steep and long, but much better surfaced trail to ascend.  And here come the trail runners again!  They were going to run up that rocky trail I had just come down.

Bridges crossed creeks and bracket fungi were doing their best to remove them from the forest.Finally, I reached the junction with the trail that I had intended to travel and I knew how to get back to the car from here, although I was still about half an hour away.  About five minutes from the trail end, my phone beeped with a text from my sister.  Reaching for my glasses that reside on the top of my head, I made a horrible discovery.  They were gone. Oh, I know where they are.

 

I had plans for the afternoon (which I was going to have to attend mud and all), and I estimate it will take me about 2 1/2 hours to  the spot where my glasses have made their new home and back.  Not to mention, I was a little bit sore from my fall. The glasses are a) in the mud; b) on the trail; c) in the bushes and they are a) safe; b) crushed by trail runners or c) invisible.

Today was not the day to go back for them.  Maybe Tuesday. It irks me that I’ve lost a $400 pair of glasses, but I have to admit I’m somewhat amused by the imagery of me slipping on the mud and hitting the ground so hard that my glasses literally flew from the top of my head.   I should make an animated cartoon!

Oh, and in case you were wondering, no Solitaires.

 

Okay, so it’s not a song lyric–yet–but it was my favourite quote of the week. This was Dave Fraser’s response to my adventures on Quadra Island, a location that was overrun by Barred Owls when he was last there.  Despite many visits since January 2, the only owl I have come across is a distant hooting of a Great Horned.  Others have seen Northern Pygmy Owls recently and of course, there’s THAT owl, the Great Gray.  I’m not sure whether I’m happy or sad that it hasn’t been seen since Friday, Feb. 20.  It could still reappear, though, and I’m ready to return!

In the meantime, there are other places to go and other birds to see. Since my return on Tuesday, I have added 3 species to my year list, now sitting at 151.

On Thursday morning, visiting birder Ivan Dubinsky and I headed to Island View Beach to look for an unusual towhee that had been reported by Jody Wells.  I think we found the bird, pretty much exactly where Jody had seen it.  What made it unusual was the lack of white spotting on the wings.   In fact, I could make out some tiny white dots with my binoculars, but without them, the bird looked plainly black.  The only towhee calls we heard coming from that area were decidedly Spotted Towhee.

Several birders have managed to see this bird, and the concensus seems to be a very dark Spotted Towhee.  Too bad.  An Eastern Towhee would have been a great addition to the year list!

Later that afternoon, I made a solo trek up Skirt Mountain, more commonly know these days as Bear Mountain (or Bare Mountain). I wasn’t really expecting to see anything new, although Golden Eagles live here.  This was really a trip to see how things on the mountain had changed.  Skirt Mountain is a special place to me.  I’m surprised I haven’t visited more, except that access used to be quite difficult.  Not so now.  The Leigh Road overpass in Langford takes you well up the mountain with a wide roadbed that ultimately will be the main access into a luxury subdivision.  For now, the road is blocked to vehicles but is easily walked.

The trails used to look like this:

 

Now many of them look like this:

It’s really quite astounding how much they have cut through this hillside.

You might be wondering why Skirt Mountain is special to me.  Back around 1996, I was a member of a contract bargaining team at the University of Victoria.  Other members of that team included Jan Brown, John Goudy, and Professional Employee’s Association Executive Director Alan MacLeod.  It was very early one May morning when several of us met at the house at the top of Skirt Mountain, owned by John Goudy, for my first ever bird walk. Along a trail like this one–maybe even this one–I learned that you could identify birds by their songs, as Alan “knocked my socks off” by calling out the bird names as each phrase of the dawn chorus rose into the air. I was hooked.

As I approached the crest of the new road, an eagle flew over me from behind.  It wasn’t just any eagle.  It was the first Golden Eagle for my year. A little farther along, the road provides a view of the summit of Mt. Finlayson–a future destination.

Friday morning, I was back at Maber Flats for a weekly bird survey.  Most of the ducks have moved on, but there were still about thirty swans.  Best of all, three Tree Swallows flew through, and were species 150 for the year.
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Saturday had a mid-day commitment, so birding didn’t start until after 2 pm.  I persuaded Daniel Donnecke to come with me to try to see if we could find the Rock Sandpiper at Cattle Point.  On arrival, we could see that the gorgeous weather had brought out the masses–and their dogs–so there were no shorebirds except for a couple of Black Oystercatchers on an inaccessible rock.  We hit all of the  normal shorebird spots heading west, turning up more oystercatchers and one Black-bellied Plover.  No Black Turnstones, no Surfbirds, no Dunlin!  The light was beautiful, though.  Perfect for taking pictures!

 

There was one last hope, though, as I still needed Sanderling for the year.  We headed to Dallas Road near the Ogden Point breakwater, and sure enough, we found two Sanderling. #151!

 

Our timing was just about right, because before long the sun started to set.  Hundreds of starlings zoomed into openings on the buildings on the other side of the breakwater.  It may be worth heading down there some evening just for the spectacle.

I wonder when that wacky owl might show up again…