Young, free and shingle

With less than a fortnight to go before the end of year, any opportunity to add to the non-motorised year list has to be taken at the moment. Last weekend offered two such opportunities but neither was going to be easy: a female Cirl Bunting consorting with a Yellowhammer flock at West Bexington, not far off 30 miles from home; and a Black-throated Diver which had spent the week in Portland Harbour, a significant detour on the way back which would extend the day's bike ride to about 67 miles in total.

No pics of the West Bex Cirl as we were watching through telescopes from a respectful distance - this is a female taken in Broadsands, Devon, last October

The forecast for Saturday and Sunday looked similar - dry but with full cloud cover and a brisk easterly breeze to keep temperatures below 10 degrees - not bad for cycling, except that Saturday's breeze would be a bit stronger making the return journey into the wind more of a challenge. Phil Saunders (Beardy Birder to Twitter followers) was keen to add Cirl Bunting to his Dorset list and given his superior eyes and ID skills I was keen to team up, so we arranged to meet at West Bexington shortly after 0900. For me this would involve leaving not long after 0600, and completing the first hour or so in the dark. 

After an early night on Friday, and with a following wind, this was no great hardship, and I made the familiar journey via the back roads to Dorchester before the steep climb up the Ridgeway to Hardy's Monument, where a Green Woodpecker was the first decent bird of the day. From this point the worst was behind me and I sailed down to Abbotsbury in no time. When I did this route to see the Cogden Tawny Pipit back in May, it never occurred to me to use the Coast Path to get to West Bexington, thus avoiding the long steep hill up out of Abbotsbury. An exchange of messages with Abbotsbury swanherd Steve Groves suggested that it would be worth it on this occasion, though he warned me that the tarmac road which runs along the back of Chesil Beach would eventually turn into a rutted track, and then shingle for the last few hundred yards. 

At least as I was prepared, but after some recent rain the track was pretty muddy, and the last mile was undoubtedly harder than any of the previous 29, and got progressively harder with the final push through deep shingle. There was more shingle to come though if I wanted to see the Cirl Bunting, so I tried to remain undaunted as I waited for Phil to arrive. He did so at about 0915 and we set off in the direction of where West Bex regular Mike Morse had advised we might see the Cirl Bunting.

Another West Bex stalwart Al Barrett was on site when we arrived and although he hadn't seen the bird that morning he advised us on features to pick it out from the Yellowhammer flock. Within the hour Phil identified a likely looking candidate and with careful study through scopes over the next few minutes we were able to nail the key features of a female Cirl Bunting - and one of the best additions to my bike list this year. We stuck around hoping for further views but the flock dispersed and it took another hour before the Cirl Bunting returned to sit up and give a good view of the grey-brown rump. Just as we were lining up a photo, the first walker we had seen all morning breezed past flushing the bunting flock!

By this time I was shivering and thinking about my second target for the day, but when I checked the likely cycling time to Portland Harbour I was a bit shocked to see Google maps estimate it at over 2 hours. Phil's parking ticket was also about to expire so we headed back, noting a Red-throated Diver on the sea before doing so. I bade farewell to Phil and ploughed back through the shingle, somehow losing not one but two rear bike lights on the way - a potential problem for the journey home. Fortunately there were still a few hours of daylight left and I got to Portland Harbour with just over an hour until dusk. 

As I passed Ferrybridge my heart sank as every inch of the harbour seemed to be occupied with a sail of some description, and the brisk wind made the waters pretty choppy. I continued south more in hope than expectation and set up scope by Portland Castle where a Great Northern Diver was offshore. A glimpse of a more distant, smaller diver encouraged me to go a bit further on to Castletown, where a period of late afternoon sun eventually illuminated the white flank patches of a Black-throated Diver. I was elated - a two-tick day in December was a cause for some celebration.

All I had to do now was get home in one piece. Fortunately the journey took me through Weymouth so I was able to stock up on rear lights at Halfords. Once again the Preston chippy came to the rescue just as I was close to expiring, and fortified with the contents of the deep-fat fryer, it was just a matter of time before I rolled into Wareham and home again. The day's efforts had seen the non-motorised year list push on to 219, bringing the prospect of 220 - an almost unthinkable milestone at the start of the year - a good deal closer.