Sunday, March 28, 2021

Scotland: the Cairngorms (from the archives)

From the archives, here are a few pictures from a weekend trip I did a few years back with my buddy Dominic Cormier back when I was living in the UK. It was a short, whirlwind trip that I never got around to writing up because I was too busy. We battled a raging blizzard on the second of the two days and spotted some amazing birds mainly on the first day. Our main purpose for visiting was to try and see a Capercaillie. I think I got 10 lifers: 

- Crested Tit
- Parrot Crossbill
- Rock Ptarmigan
- Capercaillie (a pair, Dom saw one well and I caught a brief glimpse of them flying through the pines)
- Linnet
- Ring Ouzel
- Black Grouse
- Bar-tailed Godwit
- Black-tailed Godwit
- Willow Warbler

Enjoy the pictures! 


Black Grouse

Red Grouse (same sp. as Willow Ptarmigan so not technically a lifer)

Crested Tit

Red Grouse male

Rock Pipit

Eurasian Oystercatcher

Red Grouse

Eurasian Robin


Mt. Cairngorm searching for ptarmigans

Rock Ptarmigan



Ring Ouzel


Highland Hare


Oystercatcher in the parking lot of the supermarket!


The raging blizzard that made finding an Arctic Loon impossible



Blue Tit

March Madness

Let me tell you a tale of Man vs. Beast, Man vs. Nature, and Man vs. Himself. 

But first I must give some background to how this adventure began. 

March on Vancouver Island - one of the lousiest times of year but also when, for some reason, we have a 2 week break. I've been itching to get out on some sea kayaking trips for months, prevented by the constant wind and rain that batters our coast from October 'till April. I had been warned against paddling in the Pacific during March. 

The lack of physical activity in the form of sports and outdoor pursuits and the long hours in front of a computer have left my body in a decrepit state, a shadow of my former glory. At one point my decline was so bad that I woke up one night with back spasms so severe I got Ramata to drive me to the hospital in the middle of the night. 

My body and spirit were in dire need of an awakening that only the elements of nature could provide. 

I badly wanted to kayak the pacific coast but had been prevented by either lack of a paddling partner or constant raging weather and massive waves. Until finally, at the end of March break, a 2-day weather window opened up and my buddy Matas agreed to join on a short Pacific coast mini expedition. 

We loaded up the car with my 2 massive 18 foot kayaks and all our gear and food for 4 days and started driving north. But before we could reach the coast, we needed to twitch a Slaty-backed Gull in Qualicum Beach and a Northern Hawk-Owl up in Comox.  I've only ever seen one Northern Hawk Owl once, about 12 years ago, so you could call it a once in a decade bird. This one gave us the slip. A local with his dog had just seen it killing prey on the path before flying off into the dark woods. We narrowly missed it. After more than 2 hours of looking, we gave up and went for the Slaty-backed. It was still there! My second lifer of 2021 (the first being Gyrfalcon). I got zero lifers in 2020! 

Slaty-backed Gull

Riding the high from this epic sighting, we headed for the Pacific. We drove up a logging road to where I'd found a cool looking winding river on Google maps. We enjoyed a scenic evening paddle while listening for Northern Pygmy Owls and Western Screech Owls, neither of which we heard. But we did see a Seal in the river and a couple of Beavers (a new BC mammal for me). We navigated the last stretch by the light of the waxing moon and watched some little baby trout in our headlamps. We feasted on naan, chili and cheese, aged Gouda to be specific. It was delicious at the time but would have dire consequences down the road. 

We were rudely awoken in the middle of the night by some rednecks blasting down the logging road and then drunkenly bellowing into the night like crazed beasts. All I remember is hearing a man yelling "I'M A JEDI KNIGHT GODZILA!!!" Broken beer bottles all around the area were evidence that this was a haven for rednecks. 


A secluded river

A beaver!

We started driving to the Pacific before dawn and by then the previous night's dinner had manifested into something sinister. My companion unleashed a fell wind so pungent that it violated the Geneva Convention in my car. We launched at 8:30 am. The forecast was almost as predicted for the first hour or so. We enjoyed views of lone Sea Otters as the calm swell bobbed us up and down and then we stopped at a cove for breakfast. Matas had a sleep on the beach while I explored the forest to look for a a former homestead site I'd read about, getting a bit lost and having to bushwhack my way back through the thick Salal and thorny shrubs. Matas mused about the possibility of us seeing a coastal wolf on the trip. "What are the chances of seeing a wolf in the middle of the day?" "Zero." I said. 

After some Naan with eggs and melted aged Gouda to fuel our journey, we were ready to head back into the waves. While we'd been resting on the beach, the sea was planning something else for us. I showed Matas how to do a 'surf launch' by blasting my way through a decent sized breaker. He stepped up to the challenge and executed the launch perfectly. Then I realized my pricey neoprene gloves had been blasted off my deck so I went back to look for them, thinking it would be hopeless. They were washed up on the beach! 

We ventured through a shallower area with many rock formations that caused some swells that were tall and steep enough to get the blood flowing. We had to be very careful to avoid submerged rocks that caused the swells to turn into a breaking wave. At times, Matas would completely disappear behind one of the larger swells, then reappear again. Seemingly out of nowhere the wind picked up and we were battling a fierce headwind while roller-coasting up and down swells for a good hour or so while making very slow progress. At a certain point we were halfway around the dodgy section so I said we may as well keep going. After a harrowing experience we made it to a wide and somewhat sheltered bay where we could breath easy while finishing off the last 2 km. We beach surfed our way into a secluded lagoon where we fond an idealic camp spot for the night. 



As I was setting up my tent, Matas suddenly said, with some urgency, "hey what's that...there's a wolf! Get the binoculars!" As quickly as I could I grabbed my camera and passed him the binoculars. I caught a fleeting glimpse of a small, straw-colored animal crossing the lagoon and heading disappearing behind a bunch of fallen trees. I sped across the lagoon and hurriedly crept along the bank in the hopes of snagging a pic before it was completely gone. Surprisingly, it popped out from a ditch behind some grass and logs. It was a beautiful beast! When it saw me, it quickly retreated down the shoreline, disappearing into a cluster of fallen trees. What a rush! 

After our evening walk, my feet were frozen from walking barefoot on the cold, wet sand so we started a fire and feasted on roasted weenies like it was our first meal in days. 

I had a strange dream that my tent was surrounded by wolves. In the dream, we left our tents and did battle with the pack. How absurd! 

At 6:50 am we went for a morning walk down the beach. It was low tide, so we could walk around most of the rocky outcroppings, following the shoreline from cove to cove. We heard a wolf howl up ahead. We carefully crept to the nearest rocky ridge and poked our heads up for a look, frozen in position. In the next cove, there was a wolf standing on the sand. Then he started trotting toward us. I don't know if it was the sound of my camera shutter, our scent or the sight of our heads poking up above the rocks that tipped him off but as soon as he detected us, he did a 180 away from us. We couldn't believe we'd had not one but two wolf sightings in two days. 




Sanderlings

Originally we'd planned on staying two nights at this place, but given how quickly the weather turned foul, even though the forecast was for sun, low waves and low winds, and that Sunday was supposed to be far windier, we decided to end the trip a day early, and potentially make a detour on the way home to try again for the Northern Hawk Owl in the evening. We packed up and launched by 10:10am. The conditions were overcast and quite calm, so I decided to take a detour around a small island. I came across a raft of 11 sleeping Sea Otters, each one clasping a baby in its lap. They did not see me for some time as I glided silently in their direction. Eventually one opened its eyes and was quite surprised to see me, sending the whole group diving underwater. I'd counted 57 sea otters just around that one island. 

This was no small detour, and it set me back quite far behind Matas (we knew each others' whereabouts because we each had a chart and a radio). I counted my strokes for motivation. It took me about 2,000 strokes to catch up with Matas. I was starting to feel the burn! By this time it was about 1 hour past the turn of the tide, so there was a small ebb current going against us, but I knew it would get increasingly stronger until about 3 hours past high tide, after which, it would subside until the next low tide around 6:00 pm. To make matters worse, whenever we changed direction, the wind would accordingly shift so that it always blew against us. Cold rain stung our faces as we battled against nature to return to the civilized world. The final element working against us was our own fatigue. 

We kept close to the shoreline to avoid the worst of the currents and winds but it was of little help. At last, our car was within sight, just about 1 km ahead. The last stretch required us to dip into our 'reserves' for an absolutely brutal ferry crossing. We could not stop paddling or else we would be carried away down the shore and would have to backtrack against the current. 

Now it was a race against time to pack the car in 30 minutes so we would have just barely enough time to drive the the Northern Hawk Owl spot before dark in a last attempt to see it. As I backed up the car, one of the straps, which was still connected to the underside of the front bumper because the hook was stuck, got caught up the wheel well as well as around the windshield wiper, almost tearing it off. It took quite a while to pry it loose from the wiper, causing about 10 minutes delay. We grabbed a snack and a hot drink because we'd only had 2 energy bars all morning and then started driving a rough, winding road. I felt nauseous and exhausted from the 5 hours and 20 minutes of non-stop hard paddling and the hot liquid reenergized me just enough for the long drive. Some construction waylaid us even more but we still managed to make it to the spot by driving fast. We got there at 7:45pm which gave us 30 minutes to search for it. Unfortunately for us, it was really windy when we arrived, making a search for an owl dubious at best. The beast went unseen.  

Now it was 8 pm and we had another 2 and a half hours of driving. Matas can't drive stick so it meant that I had to do all the driving. We stopped for some gas and McDick's, wolfing down the burger and fries like animals. It was very windy so I had to drive slowly cause of the kayaks, putting us home at 11:30 pm. We crammed all the gear in the garage and saved the washing for the morning. 

All in all this was a thrilling mini expedition from start to finish, with a lifer for me and 2 coastal wolf sightings, and most importantly, our lives intact after our flirtation with Pacific winds and swells. This will have provided excellent training for our anticipated July expedition to the Brook's Peninsula. 

Amboseli Weekend