Zero-Carbon Birdathon

Long, long ago (okay, Monday), on an island on the coast of Maine, I set out for a day of birding. And not just any ol’ day of birding, this was my sixteenth annual running of the Downeast Audubon Birdathon. The goal: see as many species of birds as possible within a 24-hour period.

This is the Downeast Chapter of Maine Audubon’s biggest annual event, raising funds to send local youths to summer camp. In past years, I would organize a team of local birders to spend the day birding around Mount Desert Island. With social distancing strictures still in place, that model was not workable, so I suggested a variation on a theme: a zero-carbon birdathon! In lieu of driving, we would encourage people to participate by walking, paddling, or bicycling in their own locales. For me, I opted for the last.

3:34 a.m.—nautical twilight—and I was out the door, saddled on my trusty 1986 Cannondale SM-500 mountain bike. Safety is job one and, if nothing else, I am always safe. Niterider bicycle headlight fully charged? Check. Fresh AAA batteries in the Black Diamond headlamp? Check. New Jook taillight charge? Check. Helmet with reflective cover? Check. I was ready to hit the road.

Wait!

TEACHER, Teacher, teacher! An Ovenbird sang out a single iteration of its song. My first bird of the day!

Now I was off! My plan: beeline to Sieur de Monts Spring in Acadia National Park, about an hour’s bike ride away.

3:46 a.m. Ten minutes into my ride, cycling past the Pooler Farm, peent. There is only one bird that peents from the ground. Peent. I stopped to listen. Somehow, I had missed American Woodcock when they first arrived in March. Here it is, two months later, and this is my first woodcock of the year! And my second bird of the day.

At this hour of the morning, there was a surprising amount of traffic on the road—probably lobstermen—so I took a detour down Bay View Drive. Good thing!

3:58 a.m. A small, blunt-headed bird floated across the road (what else can you call it when there is no sound of wind passing over feathers?) ten feet in front of me, glowing white(ish), dually illuminated by my headlamp and headlight. Northern Saw-whet Owl! They are surprisingly elusive. And probably much more common than we realize.

4:16 a.m. Forty minutes before the 4:56 sunrise, the dawn chorus began warming up. I quickly developed a new appreciation for birding by bicycle. Peddling down the road, I was accompanied by the ethereal melodies of several Hermit Thrush. The harsh and distinctly unmusical phoebe of the Eastern Phoebe. The sing-song of the American Robin. Blue-headed Vireo. Chipping Sparrow. Gray Catbird. Song Sparrow. And a drake Mallard flyover.

4:20 a.m. Visiting Sweet Pea Farm added an American Black Duck family. The witchity witchity of a Common Yellowthroat wafted on the light breeze from the other side of the vegetable garden. Red-breasted Nuthatch. Wood Duck. American Crow. Black-capped Chickadee. White-throated Sparrow. Northern Cardinal.

With the birds racking up, and my forward progress slowed considerably by the frequent stops to listen to bitds, I amended my plan in favor of a detour to College of the Atlantic’s Peggy Rockefeller Farm.

4:38 a.m. Bicycling along Route 3, a Black-and-white Warbler’s squeaky wheel song notched another species. Northern Parula.

4:39 a.m. At the Hamilton Pond canoe launch, I flushed a Spotted Sandpiper. Within moments, a pair of Canada Geese flew out of the morning fog. The dawn chorus intensified, adding Chestnut-sided Warbler, Mourning Dove, Purple Finch, American Redstart, American Goldfinch, and Red-winged Blackbird. By the 4:56 sunrise, my tally stood at 29.

5:02 a.m. Continuing toward the Peggy Rockefeller Farm and the Norway Drive hay fields, I heard the zoo zoo zee zoo zee of a Black-throated Green Warbler. A wedge-tailed Common Raven dropped in, briefly keeping pace 30 feet above as I peddled along. There was the song of a Yellow-rumped Warbler.

5:07 a.m. At the lone barn, part of the Peggy Rockefeller Farm, in the middle of the Norway Drive hay fields, grassland (and some not so much) birds quickly racked up! Savannah Sparrow. Wild Turkey. Tree Swallow. Winter Wren. Bobolink. Northern Flicker. Barn Swallow. Eastern Bluebird. Pileated Woodpecker. Yellow Warbler. European Starling (the only time I ever get excited about seeing European Starlings is during the Birdathon; they add to the tally) Eleven species 30 minutes!

5:32 a.m. Bicycling along Crooked Road, an Alder Flycatcher called out from a pocket wetland of cattails on one side of the road and a tiny Golden-crowned Kinglet sang out from the other. A little further along, passing another pocket wetland, two Swamp Sparrows were singing their trilling song. Passing MacQuinn’s gravel pit, a Killdeer dragging its wing was not injured but trying to convince me that there was nothing to see.

6:02 a.m. In Hulls Cove, at my friends’ Rob and Tammy’s house, I paused to scan the orange halves set out in their apple tree in hopes of a Baltimore Oriole. A Tufted Titmouse was singing from a few houses down. A Ruby-throated Hummingbird buzzed the hummingbird feeder. Blue Jay. A Pine Warbler made a surprise visit to the suet feeder, alongside a Downy Woodpecker. Tammy, coming out to fill the feeders as part of her morning chores, did not seem overly surprised to see me standing there so early in the morning. Alas, nor oriole.

6:39 a.m. Peddling around the block, I leaned my bike against a picnic table at The Chart Room so that I could scan Hulls Cove. Herring Gull were abundant. A few Ring-billed Gulls. Black Guillemot. And a lone Common Loon.

Before heading up Breakneck Road, I took one more circuit around the block. Voilà! A beautiful adult male Baltimore Oriole feeding on one of Rob and Tammy’s orange halves.

7:12 a.m. Breakneck Road is gated, beyond which is Acadia National Park. Walking my bike to the old beaver meadow, several Red-eyed Vireo were singing. The percussive drumming of a Ruffed Grouse. Nashville Warbler. Hairy Woodpecker. On the way out, I stopped to listen along Breakneck Brook. It took a while, and then there was a few clear notes followed by a descending whistle. Only one iteration, but that was enough! Louisiana Waterthrush. This bird doesn’t belong on Mount Desert Island, but this particular one has been here since the end of April. Over the last few hundred yards, I heard an Eastern Wood-Pewee and a Blackburnian Warbler, old “Fire Throat.”

8:07 a.m. Continuing my way toward Sieur de Monts Spring, I opted for the closed Park Loop Road. What a treat to cycle on this road with no cars! Dark-eyed Junco singing in the treetops were an audial cue that the forest composition had changed to one with a more coniferous makeup.

8:20 a.m. Since I had to go through Bar Harbor, I opted to swing by the low-tide gravel bar. An hour past low tide and the bar had Laughing Gulls paired, two to an emergent rock.

8:44 a.m. Continuing to the Town Pier, House Finch were singing along West Street. Four Double-crested Cormorant were spied on the ledge between Bar Island and Sheep Porcupine Island with Great Black-backed Gulls standing sentinel either side. A lone Rock Pigeon flew out from beneath the pier. House Sparrows were singing from the Rosa rugosa. A Rose-breasted and a White-breasted Nuthatch were both at a Spring Street feeder.

9:11 a.m. Entering Acadia National Park once again, I stopped at Great Meadow. No American Bittern, but a few Common Grackle, among the many other wetland birds, was the first of the day.

9:13 a.m. Closing in on Sieur de Monts Spring, two Least Flycatcher were right where I was hoping they would be. I finally arrived at Sieur de Monts Spring, five hours later than my original plan, but I had been seeing so many birds, it was okay. At the entrance, a Magnolia Warbler was singing. I didn’t have to go far up the Hemlock Trail before a Barred Owl flew past carrying food for its progeny. Near the parking lot, a Scarlet Tanager gave its raspy song, sounding as though it has strep throat.

9:53 a.m. I was planning to meet my family at Schooner Head Overlook at 10:00 to join them for a bit on their own bicycle adventure on the Park Loop Road. That meant only time for the quickest of looks for Peregrine Falcons at Precipice. Fortunately, someone was there with their spotting scope and long-lensed camera set up. “Are you seeing the Peregrine?” “It’s just above its nest ledge.” Bingo! That has to be the quickest Peregrine pickup I have ever had! A Turkey Vulture flying past did not sit well with the Peregrine, who quickly gave chase.

9:59 a.m. I arrived at Schooner Head Overlook with a minute to spare. I sat down to wait and heard a Ruby-crowned Kinglet.

10:42 a.m. Joining my family, we made our way down Ocean Drive. Only two male Common Eider were sitting on the water near Old Soaker. A few minutes later, not one, but two Great Blue Herons flew past.

11:33 a.m. At Fabbri Picnic Area, I parted company with Natalie and Anouk and company to head down Fish House Road. I desperately needed sustenance and so sat down on a large granite block. Rosa rugosa were all around the shorefront, the base of the uplands was vegetated, at least in part, by old heirloom apple trees. As I quietly munched, a Palm Warbler foraged its way to within about five feet of me.

11:50 a.m. Lunch over, I began peddling back up Fish House Road. A Broad-winged Hawk flew across the road in front of me and landed offering a nice view.

1:10 p.m. found me back at Great Meadow. My energy was running low, so I sat on one of the granite coping stones along the edge of the road where it looks out on Great Meadow. Oonk-ka-choonk. About the time I realized my energy was flagging, the oonk-ka-choonk penetrated my senses enough to realize it was an American Bittern!

2:22 p.m. It was time to begin the long slog back to my Knox Road home. Route 3 was bustling with traffic, forcing me to seek my sanity on side thoroughfares such as Sand Point Road. At one point, the high pitched song of a lone Blackpoll Warbler announced its presence.

2:49 p.m. In Salisbury Cove, an Osprey flyover was the first of the day.

Watching the Osprey, I pondered Hadley Point? Should I go there? I might pick up some desperately needed ducks. Darwin, give me a sign. Alrighty then, I’ll take that Great Crested Flycatcher as the sign to head down what I believe to be the steepest public road on the entirety of Mount Desert Island. I wasn’t so worried about the downhill; it was the uphill afterward that I knew would be a killer.

3:01 p.m. Decision made, I did not regret it. First thing I notices was a large flock, several hundred strong, of scoters flying across the bay. And above them was a Bald Eagle! The scoters were far enough way that I set up my spotting scope. It took several minutes of viewing, but I was able to suss out the trifecta: Black Scoter, White-winged Scoter, and Surf Scoter. Mission accomplished, I was packing up my scope when I saw an elongated duck with a punk rocker haircut near shore. Red-breasted Merganser.

The only time I walked my bike this day was up that horrendous hill. At the top, I decided it was time to go home, just a few long miles away. A quick stop to Northeast Creek yielded exactly zero birds. That was disappointing. Then my iPhone buzzed with a text. My friend Deb wrote that a male Indigo Bunting was feeding in their yard. Oh, conundrum of conundrums. I was exhausted and quickly approaching the limits of my physical condition. Should I peddle the extra few miles?

3:39 p.m. In the quarter mile from Northeast Creek to my road, I was still undecided. Apparently, my Cannondale must be sentient, because it went straight up Route 3.

3:43 p.m. I arrived at Ed and Deb’s house. Alas, I dipped on the Indigo Bunting. So, I settled on the next best thing: walk down to their shoreline. Good thing, too! I startled a Greater Yellowlegs. Walking through the Spartina seagrass, I eventually heard the water-dropped-on-a-hot-frying-pan song of a Nelson’s Sparrow!

5:51 p.m. Now my day was done. It was the slowest two miles I have ever biked. Near Jones Marsh, I heard a Brown Creeper singing, one of my favorite songs.

5:56 p.m. I was finally home! My day was over. If someone had called to say there was an American Flamingo at Hamilton Pond, I don’t know as I could have roused myself. Fourteen hours and twenty-two minutes bicycle birding was plenty. During that time, I covered 50.07 miles. But the important number was the final tally: 97 species!

This year being a global pandemic, I was not comfortable making my traditional solicitations for donations. But it is never too late! If you would like to contribute to Downeast Audubon’s scholarship fund, send your check, in any amount, to Downeast Audubon, P.O. Box 1212, Ellsworth, ME 04605. And please be sure to write in your memo line “Acadian Flycatchers.” Thank you!

Oh, and for a summary of the birds I identified, in taxonomic order, here you go:

1.     Canada Goose

2.     Wood Duck

3.     Mallard

4.     American Black Duck

5.     Common Eider

6.     Surf Scoter

7.     White-winged Scoter

8.     Black Scoter

9.     Red-breasted Merganser

10.  Ruffed Grouse

11.  Wild Turkey

12.  Rock Pigeon

13.  Mourning Dove

14.  Ruby-throated Hummingbird

15.  Killdeer

16.  American Woodcock

17.  Spotted Sandpiper

18.  Greater Yellowlegs

19.  Black Guillemot

20.  Laughing Gull

21.  Ring-billed Gull

22.  Herring Gull

23.  Great Black-backed Gull

24.  Common Loon

25.  Double-crested Cormorant

26.  American Bittern

27.  Great Blue Heron

28.  Turkey Vulture

29.  Osprey

30.  Bald Eagle

31.  Broad-winged Hawk

32.  Barred Owl

33.  Northern Saw-whet Owl

34.  Downy Woodpecker

35.  Hairy Woodpecker

36.  Pileated Woodpecker

37.  Northern Flicker

38.  Peregrine Falcon

39.  Eastern Wood-Pewee

40.  Alder Flycatcher

41.  Least Flycatcher

42.  Eastern Phoebe

43.  Great Crested Flycatcher

44.  Blue-headed Vireo

45.  Red-eyed Vireo

46.  Blue Jay

47.  American Crow

48.  Common Raven

49.  Black-capped Chickadee

50.  Tufted Titmouse

51.  Tree Swallow

52.  Barn Swallow

53.  Golden-crowned Kinglet

54.  Ruby-crowned Kinglet

55.  Red-breasted Nuthatch

56.  White-breasted Nuthatch

57.  Brown Creeper

58.  Winter Wren

59.  European Starling

60.  Gray Catbird

61.  Eastern Bluebird

62.  Hermit Thrush

63.  American Robin

64.  House Sparrow

65.  House Finch

66.  Purple Finch

67.  American Goldfinch

68.  Chipping Sparrow

69.  Dark-eyed Junco

70.  White-throated Sparrow

71.  Nelson’s Sparrow

72.  Savannah Sparrow

73.  Song Sparrow

74.  Swamp Sparrow

75.  Bobolink

76.  Baltimore Oriole

77.  Red-winged Blackbird

78.  Common Grackle

79.  Ovenbird

80.  Louisiana Waterthrush

81.  Black-and-white Warbler

82.  Nashville Warbler

83.  Common Yellowthroat

84.  American Redstart

85.  Northern Parula

86.  Magnolia Warbler

87.  Blackburnian Warbler

88.  Yellow Warbler

89.  Chestnut-sided Warbler

90.  Blackpoll Warbler

91.  Palm Warbler

92.  Pine Warbler

93.  Yellow-rumped Warbler

94.  Black-throated Green Warbler

95.  Scarlet Tanager

96.  Northern Cardinal

97.  Rose-breasted Grosbeak

Richard MacDonald