Ptarmigeddon - Blonde Birders Return to the Highlands

Tom and I have been mixing up our usual Hopeless in the Highlands tour...

We started the weekend with the Glen Shee/Clunie tour including a morning trekking up Glas Maol for our ptarmigan targets. On the way to the ski centre car park we picked up both back and red grouse, and the climb provided wheatear, meadow pipit, red deer and mountain hare; but, after four hours walking in the blazing sun, we were forced to concede defeat at our first ptarm site.

The low traffic before 7 meant that the deer were still at the roadside

Luckily we didn't have to walk far in Glen Clunie. Within 20 mins of the car we'd picked up grey and pied wagtails, more mipits and wheatear, a dipper, peregrine, curlew, and one very approachable feeding ring ouzel.

The wheatear in Glen Clunie look stunning in the sun

Ring Ouzel were found feeding in the valley bottom

Thoroughly toasted by the sun now, we decided to pick up our stuff and head up to Loch Garten. After checking in at The Boat we headed straight to the reserve for a wander beside the loch, adding tree creeper, goldcrest, willow warbler, chiff chaff, and golden eye to the days list. Exhausted now, we decided to call it a day and slunk back to our rooms with the sun still up.

One of the very visible creepers at LG

The next day saw us freezing our behinds off in the caper-hide by 5.30... But alas no lek. The ospreys had produced their first egg the day before, and EJ was looking uncomfortable on the nest while Odin still brought in the occasional bit of nest material. At 8 we fled back to the hotel for breakfast, lots of breakfast. Over the remnants of our fry ups we checked the reports from yesterday, in particular the king eider that had been spotted on the Ythan, a potential lifer for the pair of us. Throwing out the idea of crested tits, we decided to spend a while on the coast.

Two hours later we were pulling up in the dunes behind Newburgh Golf Club. We met another birder in the car park; he'd been there at six that morning, but with no luck, and was hoping for better chances on the incoming tide. We teamed up and headed for the mouth of the estuary, where most of the eider were out on the bank, heads tucked away. Together started picking our way through the dozing birds, but the bird wasn't there. Weighing the options, we decided to split up again, Tom and I would check further seaward, our new friend would move upriver - we would wave if we saw anything.

After 15 minutes of no eider in the estuary mouth we decided to head back upstream. Another three birders had emerged from the car park. As we passed the first we told them about the absence of bird downstream and scoped our friend upstream - who was waving. Shouldering the scope, we headed off up the beach, taking the new bloke with us.

We set an impressive pace for two unfit twenty-some-things weighed down with optics, and we were soon stood on a bend in the river, following a rapidly disappearing bird as the tide took it upstream to where a knot of cars sat beside a bridge. Hopefully, we hopped back into the cars and went in search of the second car park.

Pulling up we bundled out of our respective cars and took position on the bridge. I got the scope out and there it was, sat on the bank, preening. I moved over for Tom to see, and it promptly put its head under its wing and went to sleep. Luckily we didn't have to wait long. the tide pushed the birds off and they proceeded to swim and display within 50 meters of the bank for a good few hours for eight very chuffed looking twitchers. 

The bird was surprisingly confiding, often drifting to within meters of the few assembled birders

It certainly knew we were around, and was interested in the noise of camera shutters

After a victory doughnut, Tom and I hopped back in the car and headed back for a few hours in Anagach forest, with no joy and even less navigation. Baked by the sun and suffering from two early mornings, we gave up quickly and went in search of food and our beds. 

Monday morning started with another unsuccessful (and very mist) caper-watch, so I talked Tom into one last punt for ptarmigan at Cairngorm car park. As we arrived the cloud was very low on the hill - obscuring the top of the railway, but I set up the scope and hoped. One pass over the scree, two, three, and the, there it was; the most distant, almost fully moulted into summer plumage, bird you could ever wish to vaguely see. I moved out to let Tom used the scope and he ticked his second lifer of the weekend. Job done. Despite missing crossbill, crested tit and caper, we'd racked up 79 species (plus a scraggy hooded/carrion hybrid) over the weekend, time to go. 

I'm safely at home with a brew now, but Tom has another couple of hundred miles to drive and a chance of two common cranes - another lifer for him - en route, maybe we can make 80 species by bed time.

Countdown to Ptarmigeddon!

This morning I've been doing some site scoping ready for Tom (the other, maler half of the blonde birders) to arrive for another weekend of rocketing round the highlands. Having been to a few sites that scream ring ouzel over the past few weeks, I headed to the most promising this morning after hearing a spate of ouzel reports from around the UK. It was a good idea.

The weather was perfect and everything was in full song. Grey and pied wags, around 30 wheatear, meadow pipits everywhere, then - suddenly - the sounds of a blackbird gone wrong. I'd been squinting at the more promising southern slope, but the noise was behind me. 

It took a few minutes to locate the bird, it was very far off, then it took off in alarm, flying a little way down the valley to hurl itself at another male. Below this second rock sat the drabber female, who was joined in a race around the rock, before all three scudded off down the valley. I emptied my camera from my bag and used it to lay out flat and await the birds return.

I wasn't waiting for long, with the female and one of the males soon returning to the scree. The birds were distant, but at one point (after an hour of sitting very still) all three flew low over my head, then back again. After another 20 minutes the male started displaying to the female, dipping his head and cocking his tail. Not wanting to be any source of disturbance, I slunk away down the hill and back to Kindrogan (hoping they'll be in the same spot this weekend).

More of the same - Glen Shee and Kindrogan

Not much to report today, I decided to have another scope round the area, starting with the black grouse site and picking up a showy red legged partridge en route. Then I skipped up to Glen Shee in hope of ptarmingan or snow bunting, sitting on the bonnet of the car to warm my bum in the cold morning. While I struck out on both species, I did get a lovely view of a herd of male red deer in Glen Clunie. On the way back I checked out the greylag flocks; bean and white fronted geese have both been nearby today and I was hoping for a few of my own, but, no such luck. 

The males were right at the roadside today

Distant Record Shot

Back at Kindrogan there was the usual assortment of waiting wildlife. On Friday night I had quick views of one of the resident pine martens from our lovely hide, and the red squirrels have become highly active now the snow has melted, but the highlight of the day had to be the summer-coat fallow deer in with the roe deer at the feeders. I'm hoping he'll hang around for a while as long as we keep the feeders full.

Scavenging amongst the shelled sunflower seeds

Saturday Site Scoping

Out again this morning and on my way to check out some more sites for Tom's visit next month. I was checking on the black grouse lekk at 7:30, rewarded with 5 males this morning, then on to have a scout of some potential ring ouzel territory. A nice valley walk beside a very productive stream which provided me with great views of dipper and grey wag, then up into the hills where I watched both peregrine and golden eagle displaying.

Dipper displaying

I know that it might be a little early for ouzel here, but I really wanted to get a feel for the spot and thoroughly enjoyed the walk - a gentle incline over 4 miles following the valley. The weather was as perfect as ever and I ambled the length of the valley, making note to arrive well before the sun gets over the southern edge of the valley to become totally blinding in that direction. 

Turning back on myself as my stomach began to rumble I made my way back towards the car, taking the opposite river bank to hug the pine plantation. The dipper lead me to a beautiful confluence with a small stream and from there I follow a forrrestry track into the woods where I add two more species to my year list, common crossbill and mistle thrush. Officially ravenous at this point I hop in the car and head back home stopping to pick up a haggis, mince and potato pie before speeding home for the rugby.

Mistle Record

Crossbill

All walk and no play

 ... make Nat a dull girl. Thankfully, when I set out for the hills this morning, I was in for an unexpectedly good day. I let the birds wake me at 6:30 and was safely in the car by 7, making full use of the empty roads to get a head start on any walkers that might be around to flush things. 

Well, I should have taken it as a sign that things were going to be good when at the second turn I had to slam on the anchors to avoid hitting a red legged partridge that was ambling slowly over the road. *tick* one for the year list.

Not five minutes further down the road I catch sight of something the other side of the fence and again test out my breaks... Black grouse, around 9, I had unwittingly found a local lek in my haste to get to the hills. Making a note of the location for a later date, I snatch a couple of quick shots before leaving them to their morning displays. 

As I climbed in the valley I became aware of the copious red grouse lining the road side. There can't have been much traffic along the road before me and I begin to feel that another life tick can be mine this weekend. Only one thing stands between my and my bird... over 1000 meters of mountain. This isn't just a tick quest, its my first solo munro. 

I won't bore you with the details of the walk. I've packed my nice new winter boots (the old Scapa's finally died so I've treated myself to a nice pair of mantas), and the ice is a minimal problem. I just weave my way between the skitie patches as I make my way to the summit. Thanks to my early start, I only saw 4 other people. 

Snow on the tops has long since turned to ice

New Boots!

After the first 150 meters climb I was cursing my heavy lens, it felt like a stone on every incline. Then at about 650m it won me back. I was using it to scope a promising rocky area in the distance, when one boulder just seemed a little too round. On closer inspection it turned out to be a mountain hare, not what I came up here for at all, but very welcome!

Mountain Hare

Leaving the hare I continued to climb, labouring over another steep section. Two bunting shaped birds went over and I paused, grateful for an excuse to catch my breath; but as soon as they had appeared, I'd lost them. I have never seen snow bunting and this seemed like a stupid time to carry on and miss them, so I dropped off the path and tried to skirt the ridge in the direction they had gone.

As I moved of the path I heard a little croak. A male and female ptarmigan, beginning to moult into their drabber summer plumage. I couldn't believe my luck. Just what I was after, two year ticks in one weekend! The pair were very confiding, keeping low to the ground and I was able to get within 5 feet of them. 

I sat in the snow and happily snapped away for a few minutes until the first walking group of the day appeared and flushed them. c'est la vie. I hung around for a while longer, waiting for the walkers to get a head start on me, hoping for a second sighting of the elusive buntings... I never saw them again.

Female

Male

Pair 

To cut the rest of the story short. I finished my munro, then headed back down for a well deserved lunch. I'm really glad I didn't try to twitch that Ross's goose!

The Blonde Rides Again - a new lifer

So it turns out that with an actual job you have very little time to go out and bird (except, of course, when you're leading a birding group - but that's very little fun in the hail). So now that I've found myself of island with a few free weekends, I've decided to get out as much as possible. During the week I make do with the feeders at work which provide me with siskin and brambling, and the faithful Kindrogan red squirrels and the promise of pine marten to tide me over until the weekend

Brambling at the feeders

Being off island has its plus points. Kindrogan is a fantastic base to launch lots of Scottish twitches, so when I check out RBA this morning and saw that the harlequin duck was still showing well in Aberdeen, I made up my mind to head out. Cramming a croissant in my face and downing my tea, I packed the car, suddenly eager to be off.

Two hours later I'm at Seaton Park in Aberdeen, pacing downstream from the toilet block to where the bird was last seen, tense as ever. Have I wasted my petrol? Then I see a birder crouched low on the river bank and, opposite him in the mid stream, a small black-ish duck. *insert sigh of relief*

The individual is a first winter male and has been showing well since January. With spring advancing, he's beginning to moult, and a rusty tinge is developing on his flanks. In flight he is neat and compact, with fast wing beats and a direct flight that remind me somewhat of black guillemot. When diving he stays down for around 30 seconds at a time, often surfacing at the same spot at which it dove. Generally it was calm and very confiding, panicking only once when disturbed by a passing roe dear.

The first flushes of orange are beginning to show on his flanks

Head-tilting

The breast feathers have almost a scaled appearance when viewed up close

Orange tinges clearly developing

Running roe

Back in the car I have a two hour drive to reflect on my first lifer of the year and consider heading out tomorrow for the Ross's goose that has been sighted in Tullibody...

Some people get flowers...

I get owls...

Okay, not free range owls (otherwise it'd look like some jet-setting international owl stag-do), but Owl Trust owls. It was a bit warmer than a my walks for tawny and barn owls on the island, and there was reliable coffee and cake.

Most excitingly I got to see SIX of my favourites. Gorgeous little Tengmalm's owls, looking like they were straight out of a story book. AND there were two ferruginous pymgy owls; the tiny, rabid fuzz-balls, no bigger than a fluffed up robin.

The volunteers at the trust were wonderful introducing us to many of the birds, and we spent about 3 hours strolling around, waiting for feeding to get the best shots. Anyway, no more exposition-al text this week, on to the OWLS!

Ashy Faced Owl - one of the Tyto's obvs!

The wonderful, magical Tengmalm's

Great Grey Owl

F. Pymgy Owl - dove killer.