Radius Roundup: Lessons and Results From a 5MR "Big Year", and The Shortest Big Day

A Ruby-crowned Kinglet unleashes a terrifying bellow into the chilly radius air. Photographed on the Guadalupe River Trail.

There has been an awakening.

Have you felt it?

eBird Top 100 listing rises, and Radius birding to meet it.

If you've checked in on BB&B a few times this year, you already know that I've put my full weight as one of birding's marquee influencers into propping up the FIVE MILE RADIUS. 5MR is now flourishing throughout the land, particularly in my state of California. But this year has been so much more than simply harvesting Flycatcher Jen's vision and going Johnny Appleseed with it all over the nerdscape...I've not only been talking the radial talk, I have spent this entire year walking the radial walk. Like several of you, I've taken part in Jen's 5MR Challenge, doing my own big year of sorts in my 5MR. More and more I find "big year" to be a cringeworthy phrase, but I guess it is what it is. I admittedly didn't go all out and missed my share of birds (more on that below), but I spent a shocking amount of time within five miles of my home this year while actually doing quite a bit of birding. To say it was nice would be a gross understatement...it was time well spent birding instead of sitting in the car, driving somewhere, burning gas, chasing things that some list may have "needed" but I did not actually need to see. Rather than feeling tied down by my radius, shifting my focus to what was really local felt almost luxurious at times.

How did I do? I finished 2019 with 187 species in eBird, with the only species not sanctioned by the Bird Police being European Goldfinch, which have been present in very low numbers in a part of my radius for a number of years but rightly are not considered established in the state by the CBRC. The goal I set for myself earlier in the year was 185 species, so I was surprisingly on point there. Many U.S. birders exceeded that total in their respective radii this year but I am still really happy with how I did. Lifetime (aka from spring of 2017 until present) my 5MR now stands at 196 species. I started the year with 169 species, and eagerly look forward to the 200 species milestone, which should be possible with spring migration coming this way sooner than I will be ready for.

While some spots I've recently started birding did not yield anything unexpected, I think it is only a matter of time before some of them bear radial fruit. Martial Cottle Park is one such place, and until that time its Poop Fairies Western Bluebirds will continue to remind dog walkers to pick up their shit.

Long story short, after a lot of work, strategy, staring at Google Earth and exploring, The Year of The 5MR has been Great Success. I'm very happy with how it went, and thought I'd share some final thoughts before easing off the radius gas pedal for a bit.

My radius is probably best described as moderately birded by other people. There is a small but dedicated and active group of birders who already do much of their birding within the confines of my radius, and there are a number of places that are productive enough to draw in birders from further afield. In terms of radius rarities I managed to see this year, I certainly benefited from the efforts of others (i.e. Horned Grebe, American Bittern, Swainson's Hawk, Red-naped and Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers, Summer Tanager), but I am very pleased with what I found myself (Long-billed Dowitcher, Glaucous Gull, Pileated Woodpecker, Eastern Kingbird, Red-eyed Vireo, Tennessee Warbler, Clay-colored Sparrows, Red Crossbill). I certainly did chase some birds but am happy to report that this was no run-of-the-mill year listing effort where I spent tons of time chasing species found by others, which was part of the idea baked into this thing in the first place.

While I did very, very little chasing outside my radius this year, I had no problem tracking down radius-rare stuff found by others. This Red-necked Phalarope found at the Los Capitancillos Ponds by Ann Verdi was without a doubt one of the Top 10 birds to be found within my radius this year, and possibly the most unexpected, even though they are fairly common migrants about 15 miles away.

I can't speak for Flycatcher Jen, but I always assumed 5 was chosen for the radius distance because it is a nice, round, modest number. For where I live, I am totally fine with it, 5 miles really does seem perfect. However, for other people I know that it isn't so appealing...obviously, people don't all live with the same diversity of habitats within 5 miles and, equally importantly, have comparable access to potential birding sites as everyone else. There's a lot of private property out there, a lot of public land that doesn't have real access, a lot of vast expanses of homogeneous habitat (i.e. sage, creosote flats, intensive ag, etc). In some places, a larger radius could be more appropriate than 5 miles, or *gasp* the whole radius thing isn't necessary. I would say that places not suited for 5MR are certainly the exception and not the rule though.

I touched on this already, but I found a great many locally uncommon and rare birds myself, including a number of species that are downright rare for the county. This is what I had hoped for but did not dare to actually expect, and is consistent with the experience of a lot of other 5MR birders this year. Rarities are out there waiting to be found, often in places where relatively few birders are searching. Tired of chasing stuff? Want to break from the pack and find your own birds more often? Your radius awaits.

I knew going in to 2019 that my radius is very, very tough for shorebirds, and results bore that out. However, I am now convinced that we actually could get numbers of shorebirds in the rare event that water levels at wetland sites actually become suitable. This flock of Western Sandpipers photographed from my backyard was, as far as I know, the one and only flock of peeps seen by anyone in my 5MR in 2019.

Another of the primary tenets of 5MR birding is to go check out sites you have never been before, places that are underbirded, or not birded at all. I'm happy to say I was able to do all that very frequently...in fact, on my last morning of birding of the year, 2 of the 3 sites I visited were places I'd never been to before 2019. eBird helped with this of course, not to mention just scrolling around satellite imagery in my radius and some local help too. It really is satisfying going to new places nearby and finding some that are worth repeat visits. Last month I walked up the "back side" of Santa Teresa County Park and snagged my first radius Prairie Falcon - I never would have tried this trail if it wasn't for 5MR....and I would not have seen the falcon if I was not doing the monthly challenge, which happened to be a stationary count!

Also, I have said this from the beginning, but 5MR is really perfect for birders with time constraints, such as when you have small children and can't afford to be gone all day without seeming like a Kenny Bostick. I knew radius birding was a match made in heaven with parenthood even before Annie was born, but this year really drove that point home. A number of other parents have echoed the same sentiment.

Birding a lot in my 5MR has really driven home the point that Cooper's Hawks have adapted quite well to suburban life. They are common here year round. Sharp-shinned Hawks, on the other hand, are very uncommon and nowhere reliable. This Cooper's was strutting around my back yard one day last summer.

For those of us who are interested in nonavian life, exploring your 5MR can be very beneficial as well. My non-bird highlight of the year (which was uncomfortably close to being a lowlight) was inadvertently walking up to a hunting mountain lion at Almaden Quicksilver County Park. I am still convinced it was waiting to ambush one of the many radius black-tailed deer in the area and would have ignored me had I not noticed it, but I still feel a bit lucky that I noticed it when I did and not when I was 7 or 8 feet away. Anyways, a sketchy but cool experience, happy to be able to see a lion up close and not have it be in a threatening mood.

What else? I bought less gas than I would have, burned less gas than I would have, potentially saved on some car maintenance, and only rarely found myself birding where more than a couple other birders were present at the same time. These are all very good things. And since I reached the 185 species plateau, I completed the bourbon challenge I issued to myself earlier this year. As a Champion Radius Birder, I bought myself a bottle of Black Skimmer Bourbon and WOW...if you are a whiskey fan do yourself a favor and pick some up if you are ever in a treat yoself mood. The Black Skimmer Rye is also very good, and is a few bucks cheaper.

Were there negatives to doing so much radius birding? Sure, birding in July and August (with one notable exception) was even slower than usual, and I didn't see a ton of Vague Runts this year...in fact, I did not even get a state bird...which stings, honestly. I love getting state birds. I would have chased the Yellow-browed Warbler but luckily a prior engagement prevented me from trying for it when I otherwise would have...which would have resulted in joining in a big fat group dip with 100+ other miserable birders from around the country. The shortage of Vague did make the rareish birds I saw in the radius that much better though. My backyard Eastern Kingbird will forever be one of my favorite self found Vague Runts, and I still reel over discovering a July Red-eyed Vireo, which is a bird I discovered without even driving.

And this should be obvious to everyone, but I would advise that you make sure to still bird out of your radius sometimes! Focusing solely on your 5MR is likely to make you crazy and make birding sound like a lackluster idea, which is really unnecessary. Don't foresake the places that you love! Birding your 5MR does not mean you are breaking some holy vow if you go bird outside of it.

Want to become the master of your domain? 5MR birding will get you extremely attuned to birdlife in your radius...not just status and distribution, but arrival and departure dates and breeding behavior or lack thereof. My radius Pied-billed Grebes had chicks very late this year at multiple locations - this fish exchange between an adult and a chick took place on November 9, which seemed strangely late in the year. Photographed at Los Gatos Creek County Park.

In November I listed my top 10 target birds for the remainder of the year; I managed to see 4 of them. My last new species of 2019 - this Golden-crowned Kinglet - was on the list. This fall/winter has been very good for many irruptive birds like this in the region, though the Varied Thrush invasion I was hoping for did not pan out. Photographed at Greystone Park.

And with that, here is everything that I know of that I missed that was seen in my radius this year. Most of these were just one or two records.

Tundra Swan (also a county bird)
Greater Scaup
Bonaparte's Gull
Solitary Sandpiper
Cassin's Kingbird
Purple Martin
Varied Thrush (damn you Justyn)
Pacific Wren
Hermit Warbler
Nashville Warbler
Blackpoll Warbler
Yellow-breasted Chat (also a county bird)
Swamp Sparrow
Evening Grosbeak

I'm sure there were some other species that could have been found on the fringes or passed through undetected, such as Northern Pygmy-Owl, Northern Saw-whet Owl, Ferruginous Hawk, Greater Roadrunner, Hammond's Flycatcher and Tricolored Blackbird. I'm very surprised that Snow Goose wasn't seen by anybody in the area this year. A Calliope Hummingbird was seen a stone's throw from my radius and was probably actually visible from inside at some point. But missing birds is a fundamental part of any kind of birding experience, no need to do a thorough autopsy on birds not seen.

In other radial news, on December 21 I met the monthly 5MR Challenge issued by her lordship Flycatcher Jen and did a BIG DAY in my radius. What better day to do a big day than the shortest one of the entire year?! It was not a max effort day as I did not go owling and I had done no scouting specifically for this, but I went pretty hard...no lunch break or anything like that. I started off by walking out my back gate and doing some of the ponds behind my house in the predawn light, which quickly netted me 46 species. After that, I was off like a shot.

You can't make out much in this photo but I think a lot of you recognize that silhouette. A Phainopepla has been wintering at Guadalupe Oak Grove Park for many years now and was readily findable on The Shortest Big Day. This is still the only one I've seen in the entire county; I assume the freakish flyover Phainopepla I had at my house once was this very bird.

I decided on 90 species as a goal...seemed reasonable, and was above the 86 species that was my previous day high back in 2017 for the 5MR challenge, which was done in the northwestern corner of Alameda County back when I lived in Albany. I could have gotten more on that fateful day, but I abruptly had to quit in the afternoon to go chase the Ross's Gull...one of the best decisions I've made in my whole life.

Instead of giving an agonizing blow by blow, I'll just skip to the end. Steller's Jay and Eurasian Collared-Doves were the biggest misses, and I easily could have picked up Wild Turkey and Band-tailed Pigeon had I gone up into the hills at all. I also probably could have found a Red-winged Blackbird if I stood in my backyard long enough at sunset. But otherwise I did very well, having less-than-ideal weather at only one spot and having much fortune with waterbirds and upland species in general.

I missed this bittern multiple times at the beginning of the year, but luckily it returned for another winter and I was able to connect with it a couple times late in 2019. One of those times was during my Solstice Big Day, which was heck of lucky considering it often isn't hanging out someplace visible.

I finished the day with a stunning (to me) 101 species! I couldn't be happier with that...considering the short day and lack of preparation, I think it is a sign of fruitful radius. It does make me wonder what time of year I could actually squeeze the biggest day out of my 5MR...is December/January as good as it gets? April? November? Maybe I'll attempt another one in 2020 and find out.

And so it goes. I'm going to give 5MR coverage a well-deserved rest for a while, as I've said my piece and don't plan on getting cray with year listing on any scale in 2020. That said, with the beginning of the new year I hope more birders give perpetual county year listing a break and give the radius a try! 

A Pygmy Horned-Owl, Blossoming Blossoms, the Halloween Thrush.

Seeing a Northern Pygmy-Owl usually tops any day of birding; seeing one that you can walk right up to puts your day in a whole other birding league.  Mines Road, Alameda County, CA.

Well now that I have gotten the obligatory winter is ending/spring is coming post out of the way, I don't have to talk about that shit anymore.  So other than migrants, what is the good word?

The birding world has been bereft of much new controversy lately, for good or ill, though there has been some intrigue...your life list may get a bit shorter soon, and there is still a Brown(ish) Shrike lurking 3 hours north of me...maybe I should try to see it or something.  I say Brownish because it does not really look like the Brown Shrike I saw in Humboldt County a few years ago, and Red-backed Shrike could potentially reach North America.  Equally plausible, it is a different subspecies of Brown Shrike, it is an intergrade of different Brown Shrike subspecies, or most horribly of all, it could be a hybrid. Who knows how the Bird Police will rule?  I know how....WITH AN IRON FIST!!!!!  Naw not really, they are nerds, sorry guys (and Kristie). Anyways, I may be #7, but this is out of my birding wheelhouse.  Old World birders, you are our only hope!

This bird was sitting directly above a moderately used road, completely ignoring traffic and only briefly acknowledging Cass Grattan and myself with a few seconds of eye contact.  It was silent the entire time, and was completely zoned in on a handful of shrubs on the other side of the road.  No playback required for this one.

While it is not too difficult to figure out where Northern Pygmy-Owls might be found, I rarely get to see them...in fact, I don't even remember the last time I saw one.  What an epic bird to hang out with. The tail almost looks like an afterthought of sorts.  It never flushed, and when we came back an hour later, it still had not moved.  Patience rewards the hungry pygmy-owl.

This bird actually had horns out for a while. Did you even know that pygmy-owls had horns?  I think it's worth showing such a shitty picture just so you can see what I'm talking about.  Life plumage feature for #7.

Other things besides birds are appearing now.  This is a Castilleja, some kind of owl's clover. Maybe dense flower owl's clover?  Castilleja is the same genus that Indian paintbrush belong to, but I don't get to see owl's clover nearly as often. Mines Road, Alameda County.

Dodecatheon, shooting star, is another beloved wildflower around these parts. Del Valle Regional Park, Alameda County, CA.

Sometimes it's hard to think of a caption for certain birds...Northern Rough-winged Swallow is one species that presents such a challenge.  They are adherent to the Economy of Style.  They don't make remarkable noises.  Unless you are someplace where Southern Rough-winged Swallow also occurs, they are easy to identify, and there is probably not a soul in the world whose favorite bird is this bird. It's nice to see them perched on something other than a power line though. Lake Elizabeth, Fremont, CA.

Stll, no one can deny that NRWS is a pleasant bird...it's just so mellow.  And hardy...they are one of the very first spring migrants to arrive in the spring, though the last few years a bird doesn't exactly have to be hardy to spend a winter around here.

Phainopepla, the bird in the shining robe.  Many birders associate Phainopeplas with desolate, arid landscapes, but they can are equally at home in oak woodlands.  You show me mistletoe and I will show you Phainopepla. Del Valle Regional Park, CA.

I wonder how male Phainopeplas became black. They sit in conspicuous places within often bleak landscapes, and frequently live in areas with triple digit temperatures...yet somehow manage to avoid predators and don't overheat. They got dressed by the same force that dressed Bronzed Cowbirds, ostensibly...they both even have red eyes.

Last fall and this winter was an INVASION YEAR for Varied Thrushes in much of California, with more than one bird making it all the way to Imperial County, where there is absolutely no Varied Thrush habitat to speak of...the one I saw was foraging in palm trees. This bird was in Golden Gate Park, San Francisco, CA.

One of the big birding perks of living in northern California is being able to see Varied Thrushes regularly, and getting to listen to their wondrous and soothing songs. No other bird commands your attention as much in a redwood dawn chorus.

They are fabulously constructed birds, even their undertail coverts are interesting to look at.

A Red-tailed Hawk sits above Highway 101 gridlock and ponders the idiots below. San Francisco, CA.

Still Ablaze

The internet is still ablaze after reading Cass' Ode a couple days ago. If you haven't done so yet, scroll down and read the screed that everyone is talking about. Indeed, things may never be the same...particularly how you feel about gymnosperms.

As for me, I'm exhausted, and my normally razor-sharp wit has been worn and weathered into a spongy and entirely uninteresting substance. That said, I do still have some bird photos that I think are worth tossing your direction. All photos today are from Agua Caliente Park.

Ash-throated Flycatchers are common in many habitats throughout the southwest. Although they are the drabbest (ashiest?) of the North American Myiarchus, you cannot help but want to be friends with them. 

California Quail have a plump and delicious air about them.

I really like the plume that sticks out of the foreheads of both Gambel's and California Quail. It is the jauntiest thing imaginable.

I don't know what kind of cholla this is, but I really like it. Such an inviting blossom attached to such brutality. If you haven't seen cholla, imagine what a porcupine would look like if it could assume plant form.

MacGillivray's Warblers are the brightly-colored treat that may or may not be lurking in the center of every shrub this time of year. Like it's cousins from Connecticut and it's other cousins in Mourning, they are adept at not being seen.  

I've been keeping eyes and ears fully popped and open for my first Swainson's Thrush of the year, but it has yet to materialize. Here is its commoner cousin, a Hermit Thrush. UPDATE: Right when this post was finished, I heard a distinctive, water-drop "Whit!" come from my backyard...looking out the door of my cabin, there was a Swainson's Thrush, perched upon the old Olympic racing boat that resides next to my cabin.

Phainopepla female. She's hot.

This male Phainopepla is a featureless black hole. Don't get too close, or you will be sucked in and spat out into some other universe...where Phainopeplas govern the laws of physics.

Bigelow's Monkeyflower may only be a few inches tall, but they bring the desert floor to life.

Dusky Flycatcher. I used to be hella good at telling Hammond's and Dusky apart, in the blink of an eye. Now, more often than not, trying to weave together the proper identification feels more like wiping my ass with stinging nettle. I don't hold it against the birds or anything though.

Well....it almost was a good picture. Black-tailed Gnatcatcher.

Compared to chollas, Barrel Cactus appear friendly and hospitable. It's spines are much more springy compared to the spines of other cactus. Sometimes I want to hug them, but sobriety prevents me from doing so.

Crazy-looking Mexican

You know you're in San Diego when some crazy-looking Mexican thing pops up in front of you and you go brain-dead for about 10 seconds because you cannot reconcile where you are with what you are looking at. That's what happened when I "slung glass" at this White-collared Seedeater. Needless to say, it is a "plastic" bird,  and you'd have to be a real "stringer" to "tick" it. Dairy Mart Ponds, Tijuana River Valley, CA.

I'm really not used to this business of working in places that actually have people and culture. It's an alien concept to me. I'm even going to a punk show this week....the last time I did that outside of northern California was in San Antonio, Texas, in 2009 (Dead To Me/Banner Pilot!). Of course, living on the east side of the city, I'm awfully close to El Cajon, Lakeside, and several other towns whose denizens make you question what humanity really has to offer...right "bro"? Sick. But I know some good people who crawled their way out of there, so I can only talk so much shit.

I've been birding a lot and working almost as much since I've arrived here. The year birds have been coming at a steady rate, although I've been hampered by being a little stale with my ear-birding. Spring has certainly sprung for a lot of species already, but the vast bulk of migrants will be arriving and moving through over the course of this month. The one bird I really have my eye on is Gray Vireo, who nest about an hour away. This would be life bird....

By the way, is there any lingo out there synonomous with "life bird"? I mean, that's one of the most significant things in birding...is that all the slang there is? Referring to something as "new" or a "first" doesn't count, its just a basic boring description. We need to get creative, people.

Look at this thing! What a stubby bill. I can't believe it's called a "seedeater", what a bloody nondescript name. If you ever bird down here, be warned that a few do lurk in the area.

Meet my first Great-tailed Grackle of the year. Many more will follow...I even ran into a pair on the beach today, pretending they were Snowy Plovers. Kumeyaay Lake, CA.

White-throated Swifts are not hard to come by in much of southern California, but even a passing picture is reason to rejoice. Apologies for the "noise" by the way, I think some settings in my camera got reset after it went for a swim....damn you high ISO!

And here is one of my first Rufous Hummingbirds of the year. Not a diagnostic picture, I know, you'll just have to take my word for it. Tijuana Slough National Wildlife Refuge, CA.

For most of the state, Anna's Hummingbird is the only hummingbird species that hangs out year-round. I've never heard anyone spouting accolades about their vocal abilities, but Anna's are one of the few North American hummingbirds who actually sing.

Here you go, the first Phainopepla I have ever photographed. Hopefully the next one will be on a more photogenic perch, in better light, and substantially closer. Mission Trails Park, CA.

Whenever you are having a bad day, just be grateful you do not suffer from some terrible face disease that causes one of your eyes to swell shut. Then you would be easy pickins (pickens?) for a Sharp-shinned Hawk. This not-stoked House Finch and his concerned/repulsed lady-friend were at Tijuana Slough National Wildlife Refuge, CA...and yes, we have orange House Finches.

I'm not sure where this fits in with the "Bourbon, Bastards and Birds" theme, but when I was a little kid I was STOKED to find lizards, whether they were common Western Fence Lizards like this one, or rarer stuff like leopard lizards and desert iguanas. An interest in herpetology more often than not is just another avenue to becoming a birdwatcher (how embarrassing), I can assure you.

Song Sparrow. The zoo, without a doubt, has the tamest Song Sparrows I've ever seen. They are so happy to be there, they actually sneak into cages. San Diego Zoo (wild bird).