My Bird Day Challenge:
This year I took up the challenge again – birding
on bicycle. Normally I participate in a bizarre form
of road cycling, somewhat akin to the exercise a
hamster gets on a “wheel”. I find a local scenic
park, and cycle around and around on the park road
(about 1 mile for my favorite lake-side park), safe
from most speeding drivers. The biggest danger is the
maniac who suddenly backs out of a parking space –
quickly! But park cycling is a great way to exercise
and see birds, as you can relax enough to listen and
to look around you. Our local Georgia parks are full
of wonderful jays, woodpeckers, thrashers,
mockingbirds, titmice and bluebirds.
I have been avidly following the adventures of
The Bird Year tour, as Wendy has been a good friend
since our high school days. In fact, as a “senior
trip”, a group of about 10 of us went tenting and
cycling through the gulf islands in British Columbia,
an adventure I still remember vividly. I saved up for
a 10 speed to use on that trip – and I still have it!
So when I heard the Bird Year tour was approaching the
Florida Panhandle, I decided to try and bring my
trusty bicycle down for a reunion with Wendy. And a
great chance to see some early spring birds!
My new SmartCar has not arrived yet (I am # 983
on the waiting list here in Atlanta) so with some
reluctance I bundled my bicycle friend in the back
seat of my husband’s tiny BMW, and drove at a
fuel-saving pace down to Holt, Florida. It was a bit
embarrassing pulling up to this obscure campground in
the middle of NOWHERE with my fancy vehicle, but Wendy
and Ken and Malkolm were all extremely gracious about
it. Their entire journey has been made without the
use of fossil-fuels, and it was very humbling to see
how easily they managed everything. I couldn’t
possibly be as tough.
I was excited to hear all about their
adventures, and was immediately treated to both
fascinating stories and a delicious lunch. I
eventually extricated my enormous disassembled friend
from the back seat, put all of its missing limbs back
on, and parked it proudly beside the Bird Year
official bicycles (dwarfing them). Wendy and I
chattered away like a pair of grackles, although the
bitter cold – yes, in Florida! - soon had my teeth
chattering as well. We went for a quick brisk walking
tour of the local pine and palmetto swampland, looking
for ivory-bills no less, and marveled at the white
sandy soil and overflowing river. We spotted some
great red-bellied woodpeckers, a white-throated
sparrow, and busy flocks of ruby-crowned kinglets.
Next I was treated to laptop photo highlights of the
monumental bicycle journey that started in Whitehorse
and had made it all the way to the deep South.
Breathtaking pictures of their ride through the
British Columbia wilderness, the spectacular Oregon
Coast, their crossing of the Golden Gate bridge, the
deserts of Arizona, the urban ruins of New Orleans,
and even the endless acres of Texas were all stunning.
The bird photographs were enough to make me want to
quit my job and join them – they are simply amazing.
Not having a nice down sleeping bag, I finally slunk
off to the local skuzzy motel and managed to raise my
core temperature back to normal levels. The next
morning I insisted on bringing a hot breakfast to the
travelers (which they ate with good grace despite its
dubious origin at the golden arches) and then – an
omen! Just before we headed out on our bicycles, I
suddenly spotted a huge river otter bobbing his way
across the grass, about 10 yards away. He must have
felt unsure when crossing the sandy road near me, as
he suddenly did something my ferret used to do all the
time – he “flopped”. His back end plastered itself to
the road, while he propped his head and front legs up
– in a sort of mustelid yoga pose – and he paused
there while evidently collecting his thoughts. My
ferret (Douglas Fur) used to do the exact same thing
when he had a moment of indecision. (“Should I steal
the wallet or destroy the rubber squeaky ball?”)
Finally the otter undulated away again, like a
chocolate slinky. I unfroze and directed a muffled
scream at poor Wendy, who immediately notified Malkolm
(the keeper of The Lens) and we hovered while he
stalked the bold creature with great skill. I can’t
wait to see his photos (400 mm Canon). ..
Eventually, after I had put on every single piece
of clothing I had brought with me, we braved the
bitter cold and set off on our bicycles. I don’t
recall seeing many birds on the way out, possibly
because Wendy and I rarely stopped talking, but on my
return journey I suddenly noticed literally hundred of
American robins, one of my favorites. Growing up in
British Columbia, robins were like a lovely and
melodious alarm clock. Here in the South they are not
as common, and they have a distinctly different
accent! It is a rare treat to see so many at once,
and they arrowed up and down amongst the pines with
great enthusiasm and chirping cries. Blue jays,
mockingbirds, grackles, crows, cardinals, and a hairy
woodpecker also accompanied me. A gigantic turkey
vulture soared ominously over my car, still parked in
the backwoods campground, but I made it out of their
alive and very well. Now longing to ride my bicycle
again, I eagerly await the return of warmer weather,
and many more bird-cycling adventures. Follow the
rest of Wendy, Ken and Malkolm’s journey at
www.birdyear.com !
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