Monthly Archive for September, 2010

Some say birders are a bit mad, but we know the trials we face are worth it in the end. Scott and I had a rare day off together and had chosen to spend it in pursuit of the elusive Ruff. This bird is rare and unusual in Washington state, and both Scott and I desperately needed it for our life list. We have gotten to the point in our birding careers that new life birds are extremely few and far between. And a life bird together in Washington State!? Now that would be a day well spent…

So off we went, before the crack of dawn, driving for three and a half hours through pouring rain and brutal holiday traffic. After arriving at Ocean Shores, we made our way through a maze of confusing streets and finally to a slim dirt access at the Game Range. We had timed our trip so we would arrive an hour or so before high tide. Our hope was that the tide would push the shorebirds into this protected salt marsh within scoping range. We parked in the tiny gravel lot, where we encountered another birding couple. Their grim looks told us immediately that they had not had much luck down the barely discernible trail leading to the marsh.

Noting that they looked exhausted and beaten, we pressed for an update. They reported that the wind was brutal and they had not located the Ruff – or much else for that matter. Slightly discouraged but unwilling to let defeat meet us before the challenge, we carried on. Donning raingear, rubber boots, hats and gloves, we slipped into the trail past 8-foot manzanita and out to the tidal spartina marsh. Once we left the cover of the coastal vegetation the wind hit us like a wall. Bending to meet it, desperately balancing the scopes as we picked our way through the random driftwood, we arrived at the edge of a very promising looking area. We set up our scopes and quickly figured out another use for a trusty tripod. I clung to it, preventing a rogue gust of wind from pushing me backward into the mud.

Scoping left and right over the wide open area, my mind screamed with one panicked thought – “Shorebirds! They’re all shorebirds!” But slowly anxiety decreased, my mind focused, and species began to take shape. A Stilt Sandpiper appeared in the deeper water close to the two Long-billed Dowitchers. Scan to the right – hundreds of Western and Least Sandpipers flew, twisted, and turned as one before landing behind the shelter of tiny clumps of marsh grass. In the open water and in the meandering streams Red-neck Phalaropes spun and whirled about, delicately fluttering into the wind. On the open mud flats Semi-palmated Plovers sprinted and stopped, to sprint again. Scoping further to the right in the flats beyond the stream, Killdeer kept company with four, no – FIVE (!) Pectoral Sandpipers. But no Ruff…….

The couple we had met earlier had braved the wind and returned to the marsh. The four of us stuck out like a breaker against the gray sky, the first thing the wind hit as it roared off the Pacific Ocean. As high tide was fast approaching, hundreds of additional shorebirds arrived in our little corner of the world. Fingers numbed with cold we scanned again – two Bairds Sandpipers appeared where none had existed before. The numbers of sandpipers and plovers increased till the mudflats and shallow water appeared to be a single moving mass. Thoroughly numb and stiff by this time, our scanning took on a more urgent approach. All of these birds were wonderful- but we were trying to put our eye on the prize! With no Ruff yet in sight,  the rains began anew – a light mist, but our misery level was increasing. Couldn’t Scott and I have a warmer, more sedate hobby to share – say, cribbage by a warm hearth?

And then RUFF! There she was, meandering about on the higher ground to the east of the phalorope stream. Blithly picking and walking about, as gorgeous as any bird could be. I yelped and quickly shared my find with Scott and the frozen couple. We zoomed in on this lovely bird, her russet feathers flagging in the wind. Where she had been was a mystery as we had been in place for over two hours waiting and seeking. But now we settled down to enjoy this incredible sight. We were left alone as the other couple took in the Ruff and then took off, presumably to some place warm.

Fascinated, we enjoyed her forays along the muddy field and were rewarded with good comparative looks as the Pectoral Sandpipers passed her repeatedly. Then she did her best Virginia Rail imitation – bobbing, pecking, and squeezing through the tall reeds next to the phalorope stream. At times our scope was filled with Semipalmated Plovers, Red-necked Phaloropes, Western Sandpipers, Least Sandpipers, Killdeer, American Pipits, Pectoral Sandpipers, but the Ruff stood out above the rest. The rufuous wash on her flanks highlighting the complex tan, black, white patterning on her young feathers. We had the chance to share her with a couple of other birders who had arrived. They too looked and left – as the wind continued to howl and the rain picked up to a whole new level.

Finally, we were satiated with viewing and as I could no longer feel the tripod through my frozen fingers, we reluctantly packed up to head back to the nest. Crazy – no, passionate – yes! We both agreed, we’d suffer the traffic, wind, and rain any day of the week for such a great life bird.