A green birding A-Z

With birding by bike dominating my spare time over the last four years, I thought I should follow up my last post with a 'green' birding equivalent: an A-Z of the best birds seen travelling under my own steam. Quality of the photos was a criteria in the 'brown' version but I'm afraid I don't have that luxury for this one! 

We start, with indisputable logic, with the letter 'A': an Alpine Swift at Old Harry Rocks in May 2022, which took two attempts to catch up with, was a strong contender, as was an 'in the hand' Aquatic Warbler at Lytchett Bay in August of the same year, at which I arrived quicker than several local birders who drove. But anything with 'American' in the name is a mega for this bike list: American Golden Plover at Lodmoor in 2023 was a good option - but not as good as this drake American Wigeon at Keyhaven in December 2022 - chosen in part for the effort required to see it - a 69-mile round trip in mid-winter.

B: Black-winged Stilt was the first species which tempted me to break the new ground of twitching Weymouth by bike in April 2021 but that journey is a bit more common place these days. A self-found Bee-eater in September 2022, heard calling over a local heathland whilst I twitched a Wryneck found by James Leaver, might have made it but for the fact that I never managed a photo, whilst the West Bay Barred Warbler (a 70 mile journey, and the second most westerly location I have reached by bike) was also a strong candidate. A Lodmoor Bonaparte's Gull which involved cycling into the teeth of a southwesterly gale was another contender but my first choice is the Black Guillemot just over the border in Hampshire in July 2021, twitched on a school night in a heatwave - a 57-mile epic which ended with me locating the bird after a tense search racing against a setting sun, and cycling home along Bournemouth seafront in the dark.

C. Citrine Wagtail is probably my rarest option here (Lodmoor, September 2022), and my first West Bexington Cirl Bunting (December 2021) would have been in with a shout had not the spread of this species across Dorset made them an easier target these days, But for the combination of rarity and distance I'm going with the Stanpit Caspian Tern from July 2022 - it took two attempts but on the second I doubled up with another bike-mega the same evening (see 'L' below).

D. A Durlston Dusky Warbler is the only national rarity candidate here, but rarity is all relative for the bike list and there are two other candidates: a St Aldhelm's Head Dotterel in April 2023, successfully twitched from home in a mad dash having dipped Black-winged Stilt earlier that morning at Lodmoor and getting the train home from Weymouth; and Dipper, normally confined to the most westerly parts of Dorset, and always requiring a fair bit of effort. The first time I twitched Dipper by bike was in Lyme Regis in June 2021 - at 88.54 miles it remains my longest bike journey to date, during which I clocked what is still my fastest speed (36.91 mph), highest elevation (945 feet) and most elevation gain (7,710 feet) in a single journey. I also added the county of Devon to the bike list that day - so it has to be the Dipper!

E: on the same day I twitched the Dipper in Lyme Regis I also added Eider to the bike list - a long staying bird in the harbour there. While that was apretty good, Bubo reliably informs me that the correct name for Red-rumped Swallow is 'European Red-rumped Swallow' so I'm going to go for that. I made an early start one morning in April 2021 to meet Phil Saunders at St Aldhelm's Head hoping he would find something good, and sure enough, after we met up with Steve Smith I heard them call the Red-rumped Swallow as it came in off the sea. It perched briefly on a fence along the clifftop - still one of the best moments of my birding by bike career to date.

F: Two main protagonists here: the returning Ferruginous Duck in the Blashford Lakes complex which I saw on a monster day in December 2021 - a last gasp, 70-mile marathon which added 3 species to the year-list, ending in a Hawfinch at dusk in the New Forset. But rarity trumps effort on this occasion: the Forster's Tern at Lytchett Bay in April 2023 (and later that year at Arne) wasn't far from home at all and is still one of the rarest birds on my non-motorised list.

G: No mega-rarities to choose from but several based on effort: a New Forest Great Grey Shrike in February 2023 (my second longest bike twitch at 80 miles) and a Stanpit Green-winged Teal, also in February 2023 (seen at the second attempt). However, more memorable than either of these was an elusive Glaucous Gull in Poole in April 2021 - I saw this at the third attempt spanning a period of several weeks and 70+ miles of cycling in total in all weathers, including snow!

H: The New Forest Hawfinch mentioned above would have been my choice for 'H' but for a very obliging Hoopoe at Lytchett Bay allotments in October 2021. I was half way to Portland on what would probably have been a fruitless search for a Caspian Gull when news of this bird, and a spoke on my bike, broke at about the same time. I returned home, swapped bikes and high tailed it to Lychett where my hi-viz caused much mirth among the khaki-clad locals. 

I: Not a lot of choice here - just one species in fact: an Iceland Gull, twitched at Lodmoor after supporting my son at an interminably long tennis match - definitely a day for whites! It was a good year for Iceland Gulls with several long-staying birds in Weymouth, and although I saw this species again in 2022 I'm still waiting for one to appear in 2024...

J: Again, not exactly spoilt for choice here, but it's not easy to see a Jack Snipe at the best of times, but I've booted a few up around the Swineham patch over the years so that will have to do.

K: Kittiwake: the dearth of options continues as we approach the mid-point of the alphabet, but, again the rarity of a species is all relative for the biking-birder, and for those of us some distance from the open sea, Kittiwake is a always a bit of a treat. I first added this species to the bike list in 2021 on a trip to Blackers Hole just along the Purbeck coast from the Puffin colony at Dancing Ledge, but now see them every year on regular trips to Portland Bill.

L: Two American species in the frame for 'L': the Lesser Yellowlegs which I saw off Keyhaven in Hampshire in July 2022 after successfully twitching Caspian Tern at Stanpit and a somewhat closer Long-billed Dowitcher in Poole Park which I was able to walk to when we lived nearby. But neither of those gave me as much pleasure as the long-staying Little Auk in Weymouth Harbour in November 2021 - first twitched on a very early start before work I enjoyed it so much that I went back for seconds on the weekend!

M: a singing Melodious Warbler at Middlebere in June 2021 and my first Marsh Sandpiper in a couple of decades at Keyhaven earlier this year, 72 miles to the east, would have been worthy selections for the letter 'M' but I'm going for the singing male Marsh Warbler which I found myself at Bestwall during the lockdown period at the end of May 2020 - this bird gave a lot of people some pleasure at a strange time in all of our lives.

N: Back to a relative paucity of options but I saw not one but two Night Herons at Iford Bridge in April last year after an early start which saw me then heading north to Blashford Lakes to dip a Ring-necked Duck. The Night Heron showed nicely though, and a Scaup at the latter location was some consolation.

O: Again, not exactly spoilt for choice, Osprey or Oystercatcher being my only options. Osprey it is then. This one was at Morden Bog in 2020.

P: Pomarine Skua was a bike tick for me this year but I didn't manage a photo as I was viewing through a telescope. My annual pilgrimage to see Puffin at Dancing Ledge made that a candidate, and I've see a few Pectoral Sandpipers including one I found myself at Swineham. But the Pallas's Warbler I twitched at Durlton in November 2021, a year when everything I went for seemed to fall in my place, is my best option for the letter 'P'.

Q: Quail: not a lot of choice here - but still a good bird to see in Dorset, or to see anywhere in fact. This one was seen in June 2021, a good year for them around Tarrant Keynston.

R: a few Red-backed Shrikes (at Portland, St Aldhelm's Head and Lytchett Bay) to choose from, plus a Red-necked Phalarope above Abbotsbury and a Red-footed Falcon on Wareham Water Meadows. But it comes down to two 'Red-breased' species, both of which were bike ticks in 2024: Flycatcher on Portland and Goose at Keyhaven. Both lovely species but the latter one of my favourites, and it took a 70+ mile slog to see it, so the Goose gets it!

S: plenty of choice under 'S' from a storm blown Sabine's Gull in Chesil Cove, a couple of Surf Scoter at Keyhaven and Studland, and a Shore Lark at Hurst Spit in Hampshire - a long, chilly but successful winter twitch in January 2023. But for rarity value alone, and as it was one of my first twitches by bike, I'm going for the Short-toed Eagle which started its tour of southern England at Morden Bog, just 4 miles away, in May 2014.

T: A couple of Temminck's Stint on the patch wouldn't have been a bad option, including one I found myself, but for effort and rarity the Cogden Tawny Pipit in May 2021 edges it - 66 miles in a SW gale was quite a struggle, though it was a bit easier on the way back!

V: Velvet Scoter: my first Velvet Scoter by bike were at Studland in my record year of 2021, but a much closer one graced Longham Lakes earlier this year - it took me two attempts, before and after work on the same day to see it, 56 miles in total - but well worth it to get such close views of a normally distant species.

W: spoilt for choice again as we approach the end of the alphabet with Waxwing at Upton, White-rumped Sandpiper at Ferrybridge, White-winged Tern at Blashford Lakes, several Wrynecks and a couple of Woodchats making the short-list. Wood Warbler wasn't a bad option, being the only bird which has taken me over the border into Wiltshire - sadly as a result of their extirpation from Dorset and rapid decline in the New Forest. But none of those get the crown: before seeing the Tawny Pipit (see ‘T’ above) at Cogden I had dipped a Whiskered Tern at Abbotsbury by about an hour, so when it was relocated at Longham Lakes the following day I just had to go for it. I could have done without that 28 mile round trip after the 66 miles I’d done the day before to be honest - but I’m glad I did. And so Whiskered Tern is my choice for ‘W’.

Y: Not much competition here: my first Yellow-browed Warbler by bike was in Bridport in March 2022 - a huge 77.79 miles lung-buster which started with a Dipper in Maiden Newton, saw me clock my second fastest time of 36.86mph dropping down into Brid, and ended with a Red-necked Grebe in Portland Harbour before the last 20 gruelling miles back to Wareham. 

I have nothing to offer for the letters U, X and Z I'm afraid (without dipping into scientific names) so that's the 'green' A-Z - at least until that Upland Sandpiper or Zitting Cisticola turn up on Portland...

An A-Z of rare bird photos in the UK

With the nights drawing in there's a bit more time to sit in front of the laptop of an evening and ponder the big questions in life, like 'could I do an A-Z of decent rare bird photos I've taken in the UK'? At the risk of ruining the suspense, the answer is 'no' - there isn't a species on the British list that begins with 'X' - but this is my best shot otherwise:

A: I've seen several species which begin with 'American' so plenty of options here, though I've gone for something different: Alpine Accentor. A cheeky half-day off saw me racing the sunset to the Suffolk coast at Slaughden in October 2022. When I arrived the bird posed nicely on the rock armour before going to roost on a Martello Tower. 

B. Baird's Sandpiper, Black-billed Cuckoo, Bridled Tern and Black-browed Albatross were all on the shortlist for this one - but I've chosen an American mega in the classic location of the Isles of Scilly, also from October 2022. A memorable day trip with David Bradnum, Phil Saunders and Paul Welling when everything fell into place beautifully.

C. A few options here but the enchanting Common Nighthawk which sat on a garden fence in Wantage in September 2022 pipped Common Yellowthroat, Canvasback and Cream-coloured Courser to it. Barely a detour on the way to work in Reading at the time!

D. Daurian Shrike and Dusky Thrush almost made the grade but the male Desert Wheatear at Thurlestone in Devon which we called in to see on the way to Cornwall for a family holiday in February 2017 is my selection for 'D'. We even heard a snatch of song from this bird.

E. A few 'Eastern' options present themselves for the letter 'E' - Olivaceous Warbler, Subalpine Warbler and Yellow Wagtail among them - but I've selected the Eastern Crowned Warbler in Cleveland in October 2014 on the strength of the photo. I was particularly grateful to this bird for giving me an excuse to miss a children's Halloween party. 

F. My Fan-tailed Warbler photos aren't up to much (see 'Z' below) so the Forster's Tern which hung out reliably just a few miles from home at Arne last summer gets this spot. I spent about 18hrs and 7 or 8 trips looking for it this year without success during its more erratic appearances, and it then went back to France!

G. Various species beginning with 'Great' (Blue Heron, Snipe, Knot), or 'Greater' (Yellowlegs, Sand Plover) gave me plenty of options, and Green Heron was also in with a shout - but for the combination of rarity value and a nice photo I've chosen the October 2018 Grey Catbird at Land's End - a jolly day out with Jol Mitchell.

H. My Harlequin Duck photos wouldn't win any awards, but Hudsonian Whimbrel and Hudsonian Godwit were in the frame. However, I've plumped for another Cornish mega, the Hermit Thrush from October 2013 at Porthgwarra, as my choice for 'H'. Fondly recalling James Lowen confidently foretelling 'If it's not here by 0900, it's not here'. It was relocated at 0920.

I. The only Ivory Gull I've seen was before digital cameras so the photos aren't great - enter then the long-staying Isabelline Wheatear in Devon, twitched on the way to see the parents, at Christmas 2022.

J. Nothing to offer on the rarity front for 'J' I'm afraid, so you'll have to settle for uncommon beauty instead: a Jay on Hengistbury Head, taken in 2021 - a memorable day as it was the first time I cycled from home in Wareham to Hengistbury to twitch a Glossy Ibis.

K. Not a lot of choice as we approach the mid-point of the alphabet but here's the Kelp Gull from Graffham Water in August 2022 - a first for Britain no less and a smoothly executed twitch with Phil Saunders and Jol Mitchell. 

L. Spoilt for choice here with 'Leasts' (Bittern, Sandpiper), 'Littles' (Bittern, Bunting, Bustard, Crake and Swift) and 'Lessers' (Kestrel, Grey Shrike, Scaup, Sand Plover, White-fronted Goose and Yellowlegs) but none of those could match my only Lanceolated Warbler - an intimate view of a species which at the time was my 'most wanted', finally seen in October 2022 after four or five autumn holidays on Shetland without success.

M. Magnolia Warbler, Marsh Sandpiper, Masked Shrike - all seen but not photographed brilliantly, so I've chosen a Marmoras Warbler on the Blorenge in South Wales in June 2013 - not the best photo but a fun morning: we returned from a holiday in France on the Sunday, and I twitched it before work in Dorchester on the Monday morning - requiring a very early start!

N. This was a choice between three 'Northerns' - Harrier, Mockingbird and Waterthrush - all from across the pond - but photographically, the Mockingbird, just along the coast in suburban Exmouth in April 2021, ultimately got the nod.

O. I never managed to photograph the Ovenbird I saw on the Isles of Scilly in October 2004 or that would have been a slam dunk - so an Oriental Pratincole at Frampton Marsh in May 2010 is my selection for the letter 'O', beating another Oriental (Turtle Dove) to the top spot.

P. Anything beginning with 'Pacific' is going to be a good bird, but out of the Golden Plover, Swift and Diver with that prefix, the Diver, which I saw in South Wales in December 2021, was the most obliging photographically. 

Q. Well this narrows it down a bit doesn't it: Quail is the only species on the British list I've seen beginning with this letter, and it's not a species I've ever photographed well. This one was the first I saw in Dorset after a long bike ride to Tarrant Keynston and is about as good as it gets!

R. Finally, options: Red-breasted Goose or Flycatcher? Red-footed Booby or Falcon? Red-throated Pipit, Rock Thrush or Ross's Gull? All good options but I've gone for a Shetland special: River Warbler. Our team found one of these last year but this one, located by Pete Aley on Unst in October 2018, performed better for the camera.

S. I could have chosen various Semi-p's, Siberian, Short-toed or Spotted things for the letter 'S', but in the end for sheer majesty as well as rarity, it had to be the Suffolk Sandhill Crane from October 2011. Another enjoyable day out with Steve Smith and Jol Mitchell.

T. A close run thing between a Dorset Tawny Pipit on Cogden Beach, twitched on a 60+ mile bike ride in a gale - we were both a bit windswept when I finally caught up with it - and the Shetland Tengmalm's Owl. I abandoned a family holiday in Speyside for 36 hrs to see this, teaming up with Andy Mears, Chris Turner, Chris Wilkinson and Dave Gibbs. Well it was just around the corner...

U. A complete absence of alternatives narrowed this one down to an Upland Sandpiper on St Mary's from October 2011. A classic Scilly day during which I saw this bird, a Northern Waterthrush, a Wilson's Snipe and two Olive-backed Pipits and still went home a bit disappointed that I dipped a Scarlet Tanager which was last seen an hour before we arrived.

V. A bit like 'U', only one rarity seen beginning with this letter, but what a bird: the very friendly Veery from a Shetland holiday in 2023 with Bradders, Phil Saunders and James Lowen. We saw this bird within an hour of our arrival on Mainland but went back a few days later when the crowds had dissappeared and had it all to ourselves.

W. A White Christmas's worth of choices here: White-wings, -crowns, -throats and -bills offered a myriad of options, and even a White's Thrush - but my favourite photographically came down to Wilson's - not the Snipe or the Petrel but the Phalarope which showed at close range at Keyhaven in October 2020.

Y. And after the white options, here come the yellows: not too many to choose from but, on photographic merit alone, I did better with Yellow-rumped Warbler than the Yellow Warbler which graced Portland in August 2017. This one required a short detour on the way home from a family holiday in Scotland in April of this year.

Z. I'm left with no choice but to revert to the modern name to dig out Zitting Cisticola from Pegwell Bay to close this post, seen with Paul Welling in September 2009. Not a great photo, I grant you, but I'm obviously scraping the barrel at this point!

Flying to catch a Flycatcher

After working until midnight on Friday night, I wasn't feeling up to a big bike ride on Saturday morning, so I bimbled around Hartland Moor, eventually making my way to the hide at Middlebere over high tide. It was pretty quiet though the Avocet flock was building up nicely to over 250 birds, half a dozen Spotted Redshank and a Great White Egret were nice to see, and passing Marsh Harriers and Hobbies kept everything on its toes. 

As I was making myself comfortable in the hide, news broke of a Red-breasted Flycatcher on Portland. I'd not seen this species travelling under my own steam before, but even the lure of a 'bike tick' - my first since Pom Skua on 4 May - was not enough to stir me from my pew in the hide. I considered the distance, the effort required to push through the gusty wind, and the fact that I had gone in the wrong direction from home for Portland anyway and put it from my mind. 

An hour later and things weren't picking up at Middlebere so I contemplated returning home for lunch. Then my wife dropped me a line to say that she was out for the evening, and I knew my son was working, so I would be 'home alone'. The thought occurred that, without anything to rush back for, maybe I *could* still make it to Portland and back to see the Flycatcher? I packed the bike and headed home, quickening my pace as it dawned that I would need to get a shift on if I was to have much time looking for the bird before dark.

Arriving home at 1330, I quickly ditched the telescope and other extraneous luggage so I could travel a bit lighter and announced the plan to the family. At this point a snag appeared: unbeknown to me, Claire had ordered a shopping delivery which was due to arrive at 1930 and, with her new plan to go out, I, she asserted, needed to be back by then which would leave barely enough time to get to Portland and back, especially if the bird didn't show immediately. Needless to say, I had a different perspective on things, as my weekly routine now involves an early start on Mondays thanks to a new job, and Saturdays are the only day I can realistically get out for a long bike ride. So I didn't appreciate this opportunity being compromised by the need to await the delivery of over-priced sundries from Ocado.

A brief but impressively blazing row ensued which ended with me walking out with the realisation that (i) I was not going to win the argument and (ii) time was of the essence. I hit the road at 1341 and the first 11 miles of the journey on a westerly track, aided by a stiff SE breeze, were completed in 50 mins compared to my usual hour. This was a good pace, and although the wind slowed it marginally as I turned south towards Weymouth, I still made good time such that when I hit the seafront I was 15 mins ahead of schedule against my original estimated time of arrival at 1600. This was the latest I could afford to arrive realistically, giving me a maximum of 30 mins to look for the bird whilst still leaving the 3 hrs I would need to get home. Even that was significantly less time than I would normally allow for the journey back from Portland so it was all a bit, well, tight.

Unfortunately the weather wasn't on board with my plans and the challenge of meeting my ambitious timeline increased as I hit Ferrybridge. The wind was now howling into my face, and I could barely manage 7mph as I battled south along the Chesil. Reaching the base of the daunting climb up on to Portland, and conscious of how much that last stretch had taken out of my legs, I took the unusual step of dismounting to push the bike up the steepest stretch. This was a big mistake, as the change of muscles caused my left quad to twitch and burn until it felt like it was about to explode. Then my right quad did the same, followed by my right calf as the muscles cramped. I took a breather - the first stop in 23 miles since home, fearful that I might not make it at all, and with some gentle stretching, the quads eventually stopped screaming and I was able to gingerly complete the ascent of the north face of Portland.

The remaining couple of miles to Culverwell were mercifully downhill, but with the rigours of the last 6 miles I had lost time and arrived as per my original forecast of 1600. A small gathering of toggers indicated where I needed to be and Pete Coe, who was among them, assured me that the bird was still present. 10 tense minutes later I noticed something flitting in the deep cover to our left at ground level - I raised my bins and there was the impossibly cute visage of a Red-breasted Flycatcher. Although the sun had gone in by this point, it at least made its way out of the shadows, never quite in the open but clear enough to enable a few passable record shots. I was elated, but there was no time for celebration and the sobering thought hit me that the journey was only 50% complete. 

By the time I had packed camera and readied the bike again it was 1620 and I was confident enough of my ability to make it back in time to send a message home to that effect. It received a cursory 'thumbs up' response which is as close as we get to kissing and making up after 22 years of marriage, so I hit the road more confident than I left that the locks would not have been changed by the time I arrived home.

The wind which had proven such a handicap at Ferrybridge was now a huge asset to the northward part of the return journey and, after breaking the 30mph barrier on the way down off Portland, I positively sailed to Ferrybridge, up the Rodwell Trail and along Weymouth seafront, stopping only to top up both empty water bottles from the free beach refill stations - a godsend to the weary long-distance cyclist. 

Things inevitably slowed a bit as I headed NE on the long climb up out of Weymouth, and the last 11 miles were back into the wind - though fortunately it was significantly be-calmed compared to its strength at the coast. Even so, with over 60 miles in my legs for the day by this point, I was really feeling it, and only the knowledge that I couldn't 'tick' the RB Fly until I had completed the journey kept me going. 

Two miles out from home and a text arrived: 'Ocado man is outside, can he come early?'. My turn for a curt reply: 'No, 10 mins away'. I said I would be back by 1930 and, mechanical disasters aside, I knew I was going to be - just. At 1920 I was knocking on said Ocado man's window to let him know I was back. I had completed the 52 mile round trip in 5hrs 39 mins, including 20 mins on site looking for the bird. After I filled the delivery driver in on the backstory he was unnecessarily apologetic about making me rush home but all's well that ends well - he got away a bit early, Claire got her evening out and I had the deep satisfaction of finally adding Red-breasted Flycatcher to the non-motorised life and year lists.  

That brought the year list to 198 - a very poor year considering I have reached 200 before the end of August in each of the previous three years, but, as yesterday's exertions suggest, lack of effort is not the explanation so much as lack of birds. Still, there is plenty of autumn left and with a late spurt or a cold snap, a few more year ticks may yet be on the cards. If they are, they will do well to match up to the RB Fly for charm and character - always such a lovely bird to see - not to mention the time pressure under which it was seen!