2020 owling

I live in Portland, Oregon with my wife Tui, two sons, Charlie (aged 8) and George (aged 5) and pitbull mix Maile. This post is about the local owls I found in 2020.

Jan 1st. Charlie, Maile and I walked a circuit around Oaks Bottom today. It was a surprisingly warm and sunny morning. We missed the screech owl that's often in a cavity but looked out on a lovely barred owl roosting low in a Doug fir.

Jan 5th. The whole family went to Cottonwood Canyon. We stayed at the cabins, which are perfect in the cold winter weather. I set my alarm for 3am and drove out to the Fossil area in search of owls. I found a pair of screech owls in mature juniper woods. I was struck by the song of the male screech owl, it began with a slightly hoarse pair of notes before the bouncing trill. I will have to listen to examples on Xeno-canto, but to me it sounded quite different to the birds I hear in Portland. I heard a third bird singing, and a possible 4th bird (just a short contact note.

I also heard a barn owl over horse pastures and what could have been duetting long-eared owls, but they were so distant and faint that I decided not to count them.

It was a cold and breezy night.

Jan 11th. After a tedious and rainy morning the who family took off for late afternoon walk/scooter ride at Scappoose. We found four short-eared owls hunting at the South end of the little airport (and many harriers, a few redtails plus a kestrel and a merlin).

Jan 12. I tool Maile out for a walk at sunset along Oaks Bottom. It was a cold evening with snow in the forecast. I found a barred owl resting in the usual stand of doug firs. Back at the broken ash I watched the roosting screech wake, then climb out of it's cavity, peer for ages, then swoop down into a thicket. It was followed by it's mate a minute later. They preened silently for a few minutes, then I left.

Jan 19th. I walked out to the overlook at Oaks Bottom. After a week of rain and snow it was sunny bright day. The screech owl was tucked in it's usual cavity in the broken ash tree.

Late in the afternoon I drove out to Seghers Road in Washington county where short-eared owls had been reported. I pulled up to a small group of birders and photographers enjoying the owls and a rough-legged hawk. There were at least three short-eared owls hunting over rough pastures. Several times the owls would squabble with Northern harriers.

Jan 20th. After dinner I drove out to Sauvie's Island in search of owls. I was surprised to find no large owls, but heard one and saw a second saw-whet owl.

Jan 25th. George and I drove out to Sauvie's island on a mild afternoon. We searched for barn and great-horned owls along Oak Island Road, but found neither. Undeterred we drove out to Scappoose Bottoms. I saw two distant short-eared owls and three great-horned owls. I also heard a fourth great-horned.

Jan 26th. Charlie and I visited Whiticker Pond and found a roosting great-horned owl in the usual fir tree. We also ran into Chris Strickland with whom we shared owl news. Later we also visited Portland Children's arboretum but failed to find any owls there.

At dusk I hiked through Reed Canyon with Maile. I hadn't found barred owls at Reed for about a month. Fortunately a scolding hermit thrush indicated a barred owl. Moment's later it flew high into a fir tree and made several "Hoo-haaw" calls. 

Jan 31st-Feb 2nd. Late on Friday I left Portland for Agate Lake in Jackson County where a burrowing owl was overwintering. I drove through the night stopping a couple of times at charging stations to top up the car.

Charging at Sutherlin

I arrived at Agate Lake at 430am and dozed on and off until 630am. I hiked out to the dam where the owl had been reported. I heard a distant great-horned owl at first light. Despite having a  good idea of where the owl had been seen I failed to find it. After a couple of hours of searching I decided to take a break. I drove in to Medford to charge up the car. After lunch I returned to the dam. I was walking around searching for the burrowing owl, when it flew out from a partially flooded burrow. The owl perched up on the dam and I was able to enjoy watching it from a distance through a scope. 

It was a long drive back up to Portland.

Feb 8th. Chris Strickland had told me about some nice owls he had found near Vancouver Lake. George and I drove across the river and found an area of flooded fields that Chris had described. We did quite a bit of hiking and were rewarded with one short-eared owl perched on a fence and later on we heard a great-horned owl.

Feb 9th. Tui and I walked along Oaks bottom and found the screech owl in it's usual cavity in an ash tree. Later, Charlie and I walked to Reed College and up through the Canyon. We were able to find both barred owls, one at either end of the canyon. We also walked past a small conifer splatted with whitewash. We were thrilled to find an anxious-looking screech owl perched low in the tree.

After dark I headed out into the West Hills to look for saw-whet owls with Andy Frank.  We didn't find any small owls, but did hear three barred and one great-horned owl plus a whole bunch of coyotes.

Feb 16-17th. I took George, Charlie and Maile to Alfalfa, Deschutes county where short eared owls had been reported. We arrived late in the afternoon and it was cold and windy. We waited until after sunset but didn't see any owls. We then tried driving slowly along the farm roads, scanning the fence posts for owls. We did find a great-horned owl, but no short-eareds. We camped just above Skull Hollow campground where we heard a pair of screech and a pair of great-horned owls singing from the tent. It was 26 degrees, but we stayed pretty warm thanks to our sleeping bags, the dog and a comforter.

Feb 22nd. I went birding at Sauvie Island with John Fitchen. It was a beautiful sunny day and we saw lot of good birds. At Coon Point we found a great-horned owl on the same nest it used two years ago.

Feb 23rd. In a sun break between squally showers I hiked through Reed Canyon and found one barred owl roosting at the upper end of the canyon.

Feb 29th. Charlie, Maile and I walked Broughton Beach in search of short eared owls at dusk but found none. We then drove out to Vanport to check up on the great-horned owls that have nested there for years. We saw a pair of owls perched in cottonwood trees by the slough, but could not find a nest.

March 1st. The whole family hiked through Reed Canyon. The boys flushed a barred owl and we got to see it hunting above the creek.

Later Charlie and I checked on the Oaks Screech owls. I saw two birds, one in a new cavity one tree over from the regular ash tree. Later Charlie, Maile and I hiked around Wapato on Sauvie's island. We heard a singing great-horned owl, but could not find it. On the drive home we passed a great-horned owl perched on a utility pole near Sauvie Island Market.

March 6th-8th I took Charlie and my Dad (who is visiting from England) out to Central Oregon. We stayed at a yurt in Tumalo State Park. On Friday night we heard a pair of singing great-horned owls. It was warm and sunny on Saturday afternoon, and we heard one owl calling. I was soon able to track down an owl in a Ponderosa. Across the river we found it's mate on a stick nest in a small cavity on a riverside cliff. 
On Saturday night I drove up some snowy forest roads in the Ochoco mountains. It was a cold, beautiful night with a bright moon. I heard a singing saw-whet. Later in a snowy meadow I heard a great-gray owl. On the way down I stopped and listened for owls and saw one and heard seven great-horned owls.

March 13-15th. I took Dad, Maile and the boys to Umpqua Lighthouse state park. It was unseasonably cold, with a little snow. Fortunately that didn't deter the owls. I went owling east of Lakeside in Coos county. I heard a screech owl, then three saw-whet owls in quick succession. Later I found a screech owl in the car headlamps and a pair of mating barred owls in an alder tree.

Back home Tui and I took a walk after dark through Reed Canyon, and we found a silent barred owl perched at head height just ten feet away.

March 20-22nd. Despite the corona virus the whole family ventured out to Grass Valley in central Oregon. On the first night we heard a pair of singing great-horned owls from the rental house. I tried to find them, but by the time I had gotten my boots on they had fallen silent. On Saturday we found a great-horned owl on a nest near Monkland. that night we drove a long loop via Clarno in search of long eared owls. Unfortunately we found none. That night I heard the great-horneds again. I rushed out without my boots, and saw one bird in flight.

March 22nd. I walked out to Oaks Bottom and found the pair of screech owls in the usual ash tree. I waited until dark and was able to watch them leave the tree and sing. Further to the south I heard a  second pair, and was eventually able to see one bird flying overhead.

March 25th. despite the corona virus out break George and I took a night hike around Tryon. Probably the safest place to be as we didn't meet a soul. We were accompanied by a pair of duetting barred owls that were just overhead. They were caterwauling so loudly that I had to reassure George that they eat mice and rats not boys.

March 28th. Despite the rain, I took the boys and Maile out to escape the monotony of shelter in place. We found a pair of screech owls in the usual ash tree. Surprisingly one was sat out in the open and sang briefly in the middle of the afternoon.

We ran into Ezra Cohen, who told us where to find an American bittern , which we got to enjoy from the trail.

On the way back up the hill, I found a third screech owl in an oak cavity. I hadn't seen one in this tree for a couple of years. That night I returned at dusk to the oak. The owl was still there, and eventually flew out and sang briefly. Unfortunately I was unable to see of hear it's mate.

March 29th. Brodie Cass Talbott had shared with me the location of the Vanport great-horned owl nest. The whole family escaped the confinement of home and drove out there. We soon found an adult owl and two large youngsters, one of which had climbed out of the nest.

A coworker had told me about a great-horned owl nest at Dawson creek in Hillsboro. I drove out there in the evening with the boys. As soon as we walked into the park we found an adult bird watching a large juvenile. We checked out he surrounding area, hoping for more owls, but never found any others.

April 1st. After a long day working from home I took Charlie and Maile out to Oaks Bottoms. We found three singing screech owls, including a third territory at the Northern end of the park. We also heard a singing great-horned owl, which Charlie saw in flight but I was never able to see.

April 2nd. I took a walk at dusk to Oaks Bottoms in search of the great-horned owl that Charlie saw yesterday. I didn't hear any great-horned owls, but did hear a screech owl in the NW corner of the reserve.

April 3rd. I took the boys and Maile Newton Road in Forest Park, where we quickly found a singing pygmy owl in the same place I saw it last year. We then headed out to the Metro property off McNamee Road. The old growth trail there is really beautiful, but we didn't find any owls there. Finally we drove around Sauvie's Island. The boys stayed in the car, while I checked various barns for barn owls, and stick nests for great-horned owls. I found two great-horned nests, each with an adult and a juvenile in them.

At dusk I headed out to Mount tabor in search of a pair of barred owls that had been photographed there. I didn't have more specific directions, but eventually heard them in some tall Doug firs. Despite my best efforts I was unable to catch sight of them. I did find a singing great-horned owl next to the Harvey Scott Statue at the summit.

April 5th. I took the boys out to look for barn owls in North Portland but found nothing other than pellets and a few feathers. We then drove up to Mt Tabor, which was hopping despite the corona virus shelter in place order. We quickly heard a singing barred owl and after a short and very steep hike where able to enjoy two beautiful barred owls at their nest site.

April 6th. A coworker, Lindi, had told me about a pair of loud owls along Condor Woodland trail in Gresham. I took the boys after work and we quickly found a pair of silent barred owls near Kelly Creek.

April 9-12. The boys, Maile and I escaped Portland for a long weekend and headed to Summer Lake. After work on Thursday we drove past Mt Hood. I had hoped to reach Little Crater Lake and do some owling in the open marsh, but Skyline road was blocked with snow. We made do with a sno park, parking lot. We took a night hike along Skyline road. I didn't hear any owls, but the boys delighted in playing in the snow. After we built a fire, and I enjoyed a beer and the boys had cocoa.

After a cold night in the snow we drove to Summer Lake. It was a slow drive, with a couple of stops to charge up the car, and another to cook dinner by a fire.

 We cooked dinner here, just above Summer Lake

Summer lake was wild and beautiful.

 Summer Lake

We hiked around and flushed out a long-eared owl and a couple of great-horneds from some thickets.  As it got late we found three short-eared owls hunting over the sage. We drove over to a big barn, hoping for a barn owl, but instead found another great-horned. Back at the community of Summer Lake, I checked the city park for screech owls, and found a pair of duetting great-horned owls. It was now dark and a little windy. I drove back towards Silver Lake, stopping at the pass to search for screech owls in the juniper forest. I was unable to find any, but did hear a saw-whet owl singing and had a close encounter with a long-eared owl which flew close by. In the distance another great-horned owl sang. I decided to drive through the farmland around Christmas Valley and onto Cabin Lake hoping to catch sight of a barn owl in my headlights. Unfortunately it was a windy night and I was unable to find any. Cabin lake was windy too, so I just put up the tent without owling there.

The wind woke me at daybreak. We spent the day loafing around. I was hoping that the wind would die down so I could search for pygmy owls, but it didn't. We did check out some caves, which were cold and icey. After dark we drove into Klamath County and did a little owling there. I soon heard a singing saw-whet owl. I headed back to Lake county and drove out to hole in the ground, again, searching for screech owl. Instead I heard a couple of long-eared owls in the open Ponderosa and one great-horned owl.

It was a really cold night (20degress), but remarkably the boys slept well.

 Our very cold camping spot near Hole in the Ground

After a hot breakfast we hiked and drove a little in search of pygmy owls, but found non.

April 14th. The boys and  I took Maile out to Oaks Bottom at Sunset. We heard one singing screech owl while it was still quite light and found another in the usual ash tree.

April 23-26. I took the boys and Maile out for a camping trip to the Blue Mountains. I had worked Sunday, so only had to work until midday on Thursday, then we left. The fast charger was broken at Arlington, so we had to drive further East to Hermiston than we had planned to pick up a charge. We had another long charge at Heppner, where we ignored the "park closed" signs and barbecued our dinner. We took a long beautiful evening walk around Heppner before leaving at dusk for the Blue Mountains North of Monument. It was a great night drive; we saw skunk, bob cat and a couple of elk. A thousand frogs sang from the pond by our campsite. I was woken a couple of times by a pair of singing great-horned owls. I got out and searched for them briefly, but they moved further away.

After a hot breakfast we descended from the plateau, stopping along the way at stand of taller firs, where I was able to find a singing pygmy owl. I tried but failed to find short-eared owls west of Monument. Our next stop was Prairie City, where last year barn owls nested in an old stone building. It was a beautiful drive along the John day River to Prairie City, the Strawberry Mountains to the South were still covered in lot of snow. I was a little disappointed that the hole the owls had used had been boarded up. Still the historic Hotel kindly let me use their car charger. We loafed around town waiting for sunset. George threw sticks into the stream, the boys wrestled in playing field and George waved at every pick up driver who passed us. At dusk we searched for barn owls, but found none. I tried a couple of spots just West of town, and had an barn owl come in close. We camped near the summit of the highway South of Fox. At night we could hear a couple of distant great-horned owls singing.

While cooking breakfast Maile wandered off. Usually she is good about checking in every few minutes. Despite our best efforts at shouting for us she didn't respond. An hour later we had wrapped up breakfast and were feeling despondent when she walked into camp, hungry but unharmed. I was immensely relieved. We drove up to Ukiah and then West along the Blue Mountain Scenic Byway, stoping at the same meadow George and I had visited last year. After a great hot lunch and a couple of beers we tried for pygmy owls but found none. Later we moved over to a nearby area at dinner time and set up camp by a little creek. After dark we heard a saw whet owl, some singing coyotes, a pair of great-horned owls and a great gray (singing from the back of an aspen grove).

We had a light frost, but the boys woke warm. After another hot breakfast we set of in search of pygmy owls but found none. Snow thwarted our attempt to travel down to Heppner. Fortunately the car had enough charge to make it to Hermiston, where we charged up and then headed home.

April 29th. George, Maile and I took a damp evening walk around Laurelhurst Park. I was surprised to hear a loud screech owl song from the far side of the park. It was still light and we were easily able to find the owl under a dense tree.

May 2nd. After being cooped up by the rain for most of the day, Charlie, Maile and I went out to Tryon in the early evening. It was beautiful and sunny as we walked the damp forest. Along Maple Ridge we heard a singing pygmy owl which we soon found perched high on a tall Doug fir. 

May 9th. I hiked around Oaks after dark and found 3 screech owls. two at the south end of the park and one by the broken ash tree.

May 10th. Charlie, Maile and I visited Tryon after late in the evening. I forgot Maile's leash, so had to fashion one from a backpack strap. We found a singing adult barred owl and two begging juveniles near last year's nest. We also heard one or two other owls calling in the distance. Near the car we heard a singing pygmy owl, but were unable to see it in the poor light.

May 14-17th. Charlie, George, Maile and I took a trip around central Oregon. We didn't arrive at Glass Butte (named for it's obsidian deposits) until 130am. It was a little below freezing, but that didn't deter the meadow larks and vesper sparrows from their night songs. I was hoping for a screech owl, but instead heard a long-eared and a pair of great-horned. We almost got stuck in the mud, and had the back down the road for aways before turning around. By 230am I was really tired and set up camp, carrying both boys into their sleeping bags.

While collecting firewood for a breakfast fire, I flushed a long-eared owl from a juniper tree. Later the boys and I found pellets and a feather from the owl.  We didn't arrive into Burns until noon. I was mighty relived when the Charge Point car charger worked as we were about 100miles from the nearest charger. After charging up we drove North on 395, stopping along the way to look for pygmy owls. We found a singing pygmy owl in a riparian area just south of Idelwild Campground. We spent the afternoon at the campground, taking a couple of short walks and building a good fire to cook dinner. Once it was dark we searched for flammulated owls, but found none. Nearby on road 31, we heard about 3 flammulated owls, and I was able to get really nice views of this enigmatic little owl in a Ponderosa. While the kids slept I drove North into Grant County. I parked up near a meadow and heard 4-5 flammulated owls and a great-gray owl.

Once we had cooked breakfast we explored the meadow in search of a great-gray, but found only mosquitos. Later we visited another meadow complex and hiked around in search of great-gray. We spent the whole day in the area cooking food, relaxing and looking for owls. That evening we drove West to Paulina and stopped by Tyler Groo's place. Tyler had seen long-eared owls on his property, and had kindly agreed to help me find them. The boys waited in the car while we explored the juniper trees. We found a poorwill perched on a fence post and heard a couple of packs of coyotes, but no owls. After dark we drove to Prineville reservoir, where we found a long-eared owl and were able to camp.

We woke to steady rain, so decided to pack and head back to Portland, stopping only in Madras to charge the Bolt.

May 22-25. The whole family went down to Southern Oregon for a short holiday trip with some owling. We stayed at a cabin at Crater Lake resort in Fort Klamath, arriving late Friday. Once we had eaten we took a walk by the pastures.

Fort Klamath

After dark we headed to some thick spruce and fir forest where I quickly found a flammulated owl. Then I droped Tui and the boys off at the cabin, I headed out to Chiloquin ridge in search of long eared owls. It was cold and fairly windy on the ridge and the owls were silent. After gassing up in Klamath Falls, I headed a little further south and found a barn owl nesting in a large new barn. I didn't get back to the cabin until 1am.

After canoeing on the creek by the cabin with Charlie, the whole family headed out to Jackson Kimball State Park. The spring waters were vivid.

Kimball Jackson State Park

We found a territorial pygmy owl singing high in a Ponderosa Pine. After more canoeing we headed out to Klamath Marsh in search of short-eared owls. It was a beautiful evening with stark views of the Cascades to the west.

Klamath National Wildlife Refuge

A myriad of waterbirds sang while elk waded into the marsh to feed. Unfortunately if the owls were breeding this spring we could not find them.

After more time canoeing with the boys on the creek we set off for Summer Lake. We stayed at The Lodge at Summer Lake, a small motel by the side of the highway. It was hot during the early afternoon, so we lazed around and waited for the light to get better. Late in the afternoon we drove out to the refuge and found three great-horned owls. Barn owls had nested at the headquarters last year but we were unable to find them. After dinner we drove up to the bluff high above town, heading towards Fremont Point. We searched for pygmy owls, but found none.

There has to be a pygmy owl here somewhere

On the way down we tried for screech owls on the juniper-covered rocky slopes but only found poorwills. I dropped everyone off, then continued around the refuge in search of barn and screech owls. A North wind had picked up and I was feeling tired, so I decided to sleep a little and try later.

I got up at three and set off back towards Silver Lake. Almost immediately I saw both a barn and great-horned owl in the headlights. I also heard some begging baby owls in a tight old juniper, but could not see them. From Silver Lake I headed south along Silver Creek Road. I stopped along the way checking for screech owl, then higher up around Sycan Marsh for great-gray. I found neither but heard many birds including great-horned owl, sandhill crane and snipe. I watched the day break at Thompson Reservoir than headed back towards Silver Lake, stopping along the way to search for pygmy owl.

Day break at Thompson Reservoir

After many roadside stops and just before I left the forest for the sagebrush steppe I eventually found a pygmy owl singing along a small creek side. The store was closed at Silver Creek, so I struggled a bit with the lonely drive back to Summer Lake without a coffee. After breakfast Charlie and I checked out the tight, knotted juniper tree where I had heard a young owl last night and we found an adult great horned, who stared us down from his perch. Returning back to Portland we all stopped at Fort Rock. I checked the cliffs for nesting barn or great-horned owls but found neither.

May 28-29. George, Maile and I took off for a one night camping trip on the far side of Mount Hood. We arrived at Little Crater Lake just before sunset. We walked along the Pacific Crest trail for a ways, returning in the dark. I was hoping for a great-gray or long-eared owl, but we only heard Wilson's snipe and nighthawks. 

We continued East; seeing a couple of elk crossing the highway. We camped in Wasco county. During the middle of the night I heard a distant owl. The structure of the song was similar to a spotted owl, but it lacked that species halting quality and the notes were delivered with a pitch and force more like a barred owl. At first light, I was awoken by the same owl. This time it was near our tent. By the time I had scrambled out of the tent the bird had fallen silent. I assume this was a spotted x barred owl hybrid, known as a "sparred" owl. (I have detected both species in the area). 

May 30th. George, Charlie, Mailie and I walked around Oaks and checked on the screech owls. We found two big juvenile owlets peering out of the nest hole around 630pm. Curfew be damned, I returned at dusk and ran into a local documentary film maker, Stephani, who was photographing the screech owls. In about 20 minutes, the adult birds returned three times to the nest, once with a vole and twice with earthworms. Both adult and juvenile owls were silent.

June 4-5th. George, Maile and I drove out to Olallie lake in search of barred and spotted owls. The road was much rougher than last time I had driven it. About a mile and a quarter before the lake I got the Rav4 stuck in an old snow bank. I tried diff lock, but it didn't help. 

Rav4 stuck in the snow

After some unsuccessful digging we decided to follow the tracks of a big truck that headed up the hill. Unfortunately there was no big truck up at the lake. We yelled,  "hello" like in some movie, but only the frogs replied. Back at the car, we lit a fire and we worked on digging the car out. By 11, we were tired and we set up the tent and went to sleep.

I woke up at 5 and set about boiling water, and using it to melt the ice that had formed in the tire ruts. After 4 hours of boiling water and pouring it on the ice, I was able to create two clear tracks. I waited 'till George woke, before attempting to drive out. Amazingly the car drove straight out. We hiked a few miles through the snowy county around Olallie lake late in the morning but found no owls.

Olallie Lake

When we were ready to leave the car was completely dead. Not even the lights on the dash would turn on. I know almost nothing about fixing cars, but did know to check the battery. Amazingly the terminal was loose, and I was able to hammer a multi tool into the loose terminal with a big rock. Now the car started. George was thrilled.

My battery terminal hack

May 6th. Charlie, Maile and I took an evening walk around Oaks Bottom. We stopped at the screech-owl nest site in the broken ash tree, but there were no signs of owls. We walked to the north end of the reserve. Back at the ash tree, we could hear scolding song sparrows and Berwick's wrens . Checking out the ruckus, I flushed a screech owl. We followed it down the trail, and heard it calling, then singing and finally found it perched low in a cedar tree. We watched it sing for a couple of minutes, and were able to show it to a passing hiker. 

June 9th. My friend Andy Frank had alerted me to a family of barred owls along Lief Erickson trail. George and I hiked up the trail on a rainy evening. We immediately found two adults hunting worms along the road. One bird was so take that we could walk up to four feet from it without it flushing. Around the corner we could hear three noisy juveniles begging for food. Within a couple of minutes we found 3 large juveniles. George called the five owl family a "finger family". 

 Juvenile barred owl taken by Andy Frank the next day

June 10th. George, Maile and I took an evening walk around Reed Canyon. A couple of scolding robins gave away a barred owl perched low in a thicket. I returned with Charlie and we found a begging juvenile being fed a vole by an adult bird.

June 16th. Charlie, Maile and I hiked around Powell Butte Nature Park in search of a reported barred owl family. We didn't find any barred owls, but a mob of scolding robins led us to a great-horned owl. It rained for a lot of the walk, but by the time we reached the top of the hill the weather had cleared and the sky was beautiful.

View from the top of Powell Butte

June 20th. Like most birthdays, this one was sort of frustrating and something that I just needed to get through. The day did end well. Chris Strickland had alerted me to a barn owl that was hunting at the south end of Oaks Bottom. I hiked around the meadow at dusk a couple of times with the boys and Maile. We had a really high flying barn owl pass over. The owl clicked once, which alerted us so we were able to enjoy it. George and I were able to find a singing screech owl low in a thicket of young cottonwood trees. (Charlie was leery of venturing into the thicket after dark).

June 26th/ George, Maile and I went owling in Eastern Marion County. I drove through some old growth forest after dark and listened for spotted owls. Alas I heard none. We camped in a nice stand of old forest and around first light I was awoken by a singing barred owl.

June 29th. George and I took a bike ride through Eastmoreland neighborhood. We stopped for a cookie break and heard a group of scolding robins. After a quick search we were able to find a harassed barred owl.

June 30th. Charlie and I returned to Eastmoreland to look for the barred owl. While poking around some brush between a mansion and a camp used by unhoused people we found a young barred owl.

July 10th. Andy Frank had alerted me to a barred owl that he had seen along Balch Creek in forest park. George and I hiked along the creek and soon found two noisy juvenile birds. We lingered for a while but could not see any attendant parents.

July 15th. We drove out to Skyline Elementary to look for the comet Neowise. While waiting for the sky to grow dark a great-horned owl sung to the North. Eventually I saw it briefly in a Doug fir.

July 17th. Charlie and I decided to head out to Balch creak to follow up on a family of barred owls that Andy Frank had been monitoring. Charlie had up until today never found an owl that he had gotten to show me. (He'd found a couple of owls at the exact same time as I did). Well today he found an adult and begging juvenile barred owl. I found a second juvenile. We were about to bushwack a little to track down a third when a volunteer ranger told us to stay on trail.

July 19th. The whole family and cousins went to the beach at Sauvie Island. We returned at dark, and while crossing the old dunes we flush a couple of great-horned owls from the sand. 

July 24th. I woke at 250am. I couldn't go back to sleep, and finally relented and left the house around 4am to walk around Oaks Bottom with Maile. Ah the fucking Covid life. I heard two screech owls, and was able to hack the light on my phone to spotlight one of the screech owls low in a maple.

July 25th. The whole family drove up to Tacoma to visit with Tui's mom and the kid's cousins. I took off around 5pm to Mt Rainier in search of Boreal owl. This is a hard species to find in the summer. Sunrise was super busy with people who were stargazing. In the evening I hiked down to Shadow Lake. I found a hooting sooty grouse in a stunted spruce tree.

Mount Rainier from the Shadow Lake trail

A couple of hikers told me about a bear that I had missed. I jogged back down the trail and found a beautiful black bear feeding at the lake side meadow. I repeated the same hike after dark, listening for Boreal owls, but heard none. I also tried the meadows near the entrance road to Sunrise, but again drew a blank. I did find a handsome fox that trotted across the road. On the way home, I did see a handsome barred owl flying in front of the car.

Aug 5th. Charlie and I walked to Reed College Parkway to a BLM memorial. We heard a singing screech owl, but could not find it with our crappy phone flash light. We returned the next day with a real flashlight, but didn't hear anything.

Aug 18th. I ventured out to the North end of Sauvie before dawn and found three great-horned owls along roadside power-lines. At the end of the road I could hear a pair of duetting great-horned owls from the tall cottonwoods on the Washington side of the Columbia.  

Aug 22nd. I woke early and drove out to the East side of Mount Tabor. Failing to find any owls in the tall conifers, I dove over to the West side of Powell Butte. Returning along the trail a male great-horned owl sang softly. After a couple of minutes of searching it was found perched sideways on a stout branch, high in a Doug fir.

Aug 23rd. George, Maile and I were camping in the dunes at Bayocean Spit. I'd drunk too much coffee and way lying awake in the tent. I got up around 1am to pee and heard a barn owl scream. I have camped here 50-100 nights over the last 19 years and this is the first time I have heard a barn owl.

Aug 30th. Charlie, my friend Mark and I were returning from a camping trip in Jefferson Park. Just before Ripplebrook Ranger Station we had a barred owl fly in front of the car late in the afternoon. I stopped and could hear scolding Stellar's Jays, but was unable to locate the owl. 

Sep 14th. In an effort to escape the choking smoke of the forest fires Charlie, Maile and I went camping along the Deschutes River near the Dalles. We were disappointed but undeterred by the smoky conditions we found at Deschutes. We hiked about 3 miles up to a riverside copse of walnut trees. Charlie was most excellent company. The next morning we disturbed two roosting barn owls and a great-horned owl from the thicket. The barn owls were exquisitely pale and delicate. The great-horned, pale and grayish, quite unlike the dark chocolate-colored birds I see in Portland.  

Sep 16th. Charlie and I took a evening walk in our neighborhood and we heard a pair of screech owls duetting near the overlook at Oaks Bottom. We were able to see both birds in silhouette as they sang.

Sep 19th. Charlie and I camping on the beach near the lighthouse at Sauvie Island. We didn't arrive until about 9pm, and were immediately greeted by the sound of barn owls screeching. I found one owl flying low over the sand, and a second, presumably juvenile bird screeching loudly from high in a cottonwood tree. 

Nov 21. I took Maile and the boys to Wapato on Sauvie. As we were leaving the parking lot I was explaining to the boys that if they could find an owl, they could win a prize. At that very moment I glanced up and saw a barred owl perched along the trail-side.

Nov 22nd. The boys and I walked around the East side of Oaks bottom. I found the screech owl in it's usual roost. Later we heard a big mob (murder) of angry crows. Charlie was first to spot the source of their ire, a beautiful barred owl, perched low in an Oak tree. We were able to show off our prized sighting to several people. 

Nov 26th. Thanksgiving Day. George and I walked around Oaks Bottom. We found the screech owl in the usual cavity in a broken ash tree.

Nov 27th. A beautiful sunny day. At lunch I returned to Oaks and was able to glimpse the screech owl, crammed into the usual cavity in the broken ash tree.

Nov 28th. George and I walked around Scappose airport. We saw at least 4 short-eared owls (there may have been several more). We also found a snow bunting. On the walk back we were lucky to glimpse a pale barn owl flying through some tall Doug Firs.

Dec 2nd. George and I took a night bike ride around Oak's Bottom. We heard a great-horned owl calling softly alongside the Willamette River.

Dec 4th. I saw a great-horned owl in the usual roost site at Whitaker Ponds.

Dec 5th. I took the boys out to Scappoose, where we found 2 or 3 short-eared owls hunting at dusk near the airport. 

Dec 7th George and I were doing a night bike ride through Tideman Johnson Park, when we heard a barn owl calling repeatedly. 

December 12th. I hiked through the Stark Street Cemetery, Laurelhurst Park and then up to tabor on a cold winter's afternoon. As it grew dark on Tabor I began to hear a pair of duetting great-horned owls. I tried for ages to glimpse them, but they remained hidden high in a stand of Doug firs. 

December 13th. I took a bike ride along the South West Waterfront. About a half mile south of OHSU's lower campus I heard a couple of scrub jays and a kinglet scolding. I hiked down the steep, bramble-covered river bank and flushed a small owl. The owl flew up into an impenetrable tangle of ivy and I was not able to relocate it. Raked in scratches and bleeding all over myself I left. At dusk I had walked back and planned to watch the owl as it emerged from it's hidden roost site. Sure enough the small owl emerged and I saw it briefly as it flew between branches of the cottonwood tree. Based on it's small size, especially that it appeared small in flight, I believe it was a saw-whet owl, but it's possible that it was (the larger) screech owl.

December 20th. I visited Fort Stevens State Park near Astoria in search of short-eared owls. At dusk a short-eared owl emerged from it's wet grassy roost and perched in a small snag. It surveyed the marsh for about twenty minutes before taking off just before dark. 

December 24th. It was a beautiful cool afternoon, so Maile and I took a walk to Oaks. We scrambled down the bluff and got to watch one screech owl emerge and eventually fly from it's roost in the broken ash tree. Nearby a second bird sang from a hidden perch. 

Dec 31st. George, Maile and I took a walk around Oak's Bottoms, where we found a screech owl roosting in the usual ash tree.


113

2019 Comoros, Mayotte, Seychelles (and Kenya)

The Comoros Archipelago (including Mayotte, which is part of Metropolitan France) and the Seychelles are home to five species of endemic scops owl. Each is very range restricted, and vulnerable to loss of forest due to rapid human population growth. I have been thinking about these endangered owls for several years. In October 2019 I finally made the trip. I flew Kenya Airways, which is one of the better airlines in the region, and this gave me the opportunity to briefly visit Kenya and chase a couple of great owls.

October 3rd.  This is a regular work day for me until 3pm. I change into my olive birding gear in the crappy work bathroom. Tui picks me up and runs me to the airport. I begin my journey with the same Delta flight to Heathrow that I took in June with the family and for the whole night I have a sense of deja vu.
October 4th. I arrive in Heathrow around noon and wait a few hours for my Kenya Airways flight that leaves at dusk for Nairobi.
October 5th. I arrive at Nairobi at 430am. I have slept just a couple of hours and am feeling tired. Fortunately I have hired Sammy Mugo smugo07@yahoo.com , a Kenyan birding guide to meet me at the airport and take me to the tablelands between Mount Kenya and the Aberdare Mountains. Our goal is to find the Cape eagle-owl. The local sub species is more rufus than the birds in Southern Africa, and may represent a unique species (Mackinder's Eagle owl). For this reason it's one of my most wanted Kenyan owls. My flight's early and I clear immigration in a minute, so I beat Sammy to our meet up point. It's a beautiful cool morning and still dark outside. A few local guys come talk with me. They figure me for an outdoors person, with my boots and olive clothes and ask me if they can set me up with a trip to Mount Kenya. Sammy soon arrives. He's a warm guy with a big smile. He runs birding trips all over Kenya. He is clearly an organized and knowledgeable person. He's hired a driver, Peter. We load into Peter's silver Toyota wagon and set off for the market town of Nyeri. Sammy tells me that he had been looking for African grass owl to show me. Unfortunately there is a family of lions where the grass owls live. The only way to find the owls, is to walk the tall grass, something that Sammy won't do around the lions. This is too bad as I would love to look for this rare Kenyan owl. It's a pretty quick and painless drive to Nyeri, home town for Sammy and Peter, both Kikuyu people. (The Kikuyu are Kenya's dominant tribe and their homeland is the central highlands). At Nyeri we stop for breakfast, which despite being a local place, has a very English menu of bacon, eggs and the like. Sammy has set up to meet with an owl biologist, Paul, beyond Nyeri. A faded roadside sign of a Mackinder's eagle owl tips me off. We pull up next to an old quarry and meet Paul, who is enthusiastic to show me the owl and explain about his conservation work. He is teaching farmers that eagle-owls are beneficial (by killing rodents) and gives them two beehives in return for their commitment not to hurt the owls. We soon find a roosting Mackinder's high on a cliff. Apparently Mackinder's are dependent on cliffs for roosting and nesting. The light on this bird isn't that great, so we drive to a second location. Paul goes out of his way at each site to check in with the local farmers. We don't find any owls here. We drive to a third site, and hike down a rocky trail and through a thicket of stinging nettles and thorny bushes to a small cliff where Paul points out another Mackinder's. The view is great. This bird has long ear tufts that stand proud, fierce orange eyes, pale cheeks and a powerful gray bill. The breast is densely blotched blackish against a beautiful rust-color, the belly is rust with darker bars, and the tail is similarly barred. Much of the back and coverts are chocolate-colored with just a couple of lighter feathers. It's a really imposing owl.  Under the strong midday sun, it's a hot walk back up the hill to the car.

We drop off Paul and Sammy in quick succession near their homes, then Peter drive me back to Nairobi so I can catch an evening flight. We stop at the same eatery, and this time I am able to order Indian food, which is a distinct improvement on breakfast.

The rest of the drive to Nairobi is pretty unpleasant. I am dehydrated, and a blazing sun shines through the windshield. I sleep fitfully, waking with a start when we brake or turn sharply. I thank Peter as he drops me off. I still have a few hours to wait until my 10pm flight to the Seychelles. When we finally take off it's my third night on a plane. All I want to do is sleep, but I have a long night ahead, and need to stay awake at least until I get the meal.

October 6th. When I arrive at Mahe airport in the Seychelles I am greeted by a health officer who asks for my yellow fever card. I hadn't realize this was a requirement coming from Kenya. Fortunately he's a cool guy and lets me pass as I was just in Kenya for the day. Once I clear customs and immigration I walk to the front of the taxi stand and negotiate a cab to take me to the Mission at Morne Seychelles National Park.  The Mission is a ruin near the high point along the road that crosses Mahe. The rare Seychelles scops owl occurs in the nearby forest. The driver stops for a piss, and detours to the port to buy gas. Eventually we leave town (Victoria) and climb a very steep road to the Mission. Four times my driver tells me to not go. "No one is there", "it's too dangerous". I ask what is dangerous out there, and he offers that there could be robbers. He drops me at the Mission and I thank him. This place seems far too deserted to have robbers, but who knows? The first living thing I see there is a large rat in a tangle of vines. I set off taping for the scops owl. It will be dawn in two hours, so I don't have long. After a few minutes I hear the distinct croak of an answering scops owl! The owl is high above me and a little off the road. It responds well, but isn't coming closer. Eventually I climb up a very steep bank of granite rocks to get under the owl. I think I am close, and try the spotlight. The trees are high and thick. All I see are leaves and branches. The owl stops responding. I try a little more playback, but get nothing. I wait. It will be light soon, so I decide to look for another owl. I walk down the road for three kilometers away from Victoria. Just to be safe, when I hear a car, I duck out the way and hide in the forest. I hear two more scops owls. One quite near, but it only called once, and one far below that also only called once. Now it's getting light. I walk back up the hill towards Victoria. It's been a long night, it's hot, I am sweating and really dehydrated. I decide to take a short cut along a nature trail to the right that leads through abandoned tea plantations. This turns out to be a long, and arduous hilly walk of about 6km back down to the bus line in Victoria. Huge fruit bats and tropic birds patrol the skies. I get a bus to the terminal, and another to Quincy, where I have booked a hotel. (I never book accommodation, but it is a requirement for entry at the airport (and they did check). I get off at Quincy, and it's a short, but very steep hike up to Chez Lorna, my guesthouse. The sun's really blazing, and I am now really parched.

A friendly Dutch host greets me at Chez Lorna and offers me water and WiFi. He tells me because it's Sunday my best bet for food is to walk to the corner store. I hike back down the hill and buy some bread and chips, then return to Chez Lorna. I decide to call Steve Agricole, a local birding guide Stevebirdingecotours@gmail.com and ask him to help me with the scops owl tonight. Steve agrees to pick me up at 515pm. It's about 930am, and I fall asleep, waking to Steve's voice outside my room. I fumble around trying to get everything ready while Steve patiently waits. Steve is a friendly local guy, who got started into birding after working with endangered Seychelles Magpie robins. We drive back up into the National Park. It's dusk, and a beautiful warm evening. We hike a short distance up a trail, then Steve plays the call of the scops owl. We sit quietly. In the distance we hear a croaking response. Steve whispers to stay put, and unlike last night's owls, this one soon flies in and actively calls and flies around us. We get a really nice view of a reddish brown Seychelles scops owl. It's a smallish scops, with a very short tail, and long bare legs. It has no visible ear tufts and yellow eyes. Steve was wary about illuminating the owl excessively, so it's hard to make out a lot of details of the plumage. Mostly we just watch it in silhouette as it flies from branch to branch croaking at us. This is a very rare bird with about 50 pairs remaining.

Relieved and happy we descend the trail back to Steve's car. He runs me back to Chez Lorna, where I have time to wash my sweaty clothes, then, despite my 7 hour nap today I sleep the whole night.

October 7th. I still have one more night in Seychelles, and I am keen to find a scops owl without the assistance of a guide. This gives me the whole day without much of an agenda. I sit outside my room and watch the day grow light. Flying foxes squabble in banana trees. Later I chat with Lorna, who owns the guesthouse. She tells me about the Seychelles heroin crisis. (I keep my eye out after this conversation and notice some discarded needles around town, and some remarkably undernourished Seychellois).

I didn't really eat yesterday apart from some white bread rolls and chips, so today I walk along the busy road into Victoria and find a nice place, Dolce Vita. I eat a huge omelette and drink black strong coffee. Outside torrential rain pours. By the time I settle the bill, the rain has stopped, leaving only a blanket of grubby puddles.

The rest of the morning I listen to music and plan my night visit back to the mountains in search of "my own" scops owl. In the heat of the afternoon, I walk to Victoria bus station, stopping at a creole take-out joint popular with cabbies. The food looks amazing, but turns out to be a plate of the finest gristle and bone fragments, served luke warm. I sit in the bus terminal and endure. A slender man sits next to me and starts yelling for me to give him my plate. I am ambivalent about the food, and am considering his request, but then he starts to really yell. I wolf down my plate, dump into a trash can and board an old blue Tata bus crammed full of people. The bus grinds up the mountain. I get off a couple of kilometers below the col and check out the forest. Just past the col I take the same nature trail through the abandoned tea plantations that I hiked yesterday morning. At the end of the trail is a spur, leading to a summit crowned with a radio tower. It's a hot afternoon, and it takes me a couple of hours to do the hike. From the summit I can see both coasts of Mahe far below. It's a dramatic perch with steep forests and granite cliffs below. White-tailed tropicbirds soar over the forest. I have quite a while to wait and eventually I fall asleep on my little rocky perch. I awaken to rain. There is a crawl space under a small building that's part of the radio tower, emboldened by the lack of venomous snakes, I crawl in and crouch under the sharp concrete floor and watch the rain. A little after sunset the rain eases. I get my owling gear out and start to down the trail. Then the heavens open. The rain is torrential, and it's a little overwhelming packing my gear in plastic zip-locks and getting a rain coat on. It's soon completely dark. The effect of my head-torch in the heavy rain is disorientating, like driving through dense fog with bright heads lights. All I can see is a wall of rain. The sky lights up with lightening again and again. Thunder booms. I have to get off here. I stumble along the trail looking for shelter.  I step out onto a granite slab, and then in front of me catch sight of an abyss below. Fuck, I nearly stepped right off the mountain. I know that I am not on the trail I came in on, because I didn't pass this cliff on the way up. Soaked and disorientated I walk around a flattish area of the summit searching for the trail. I am soaked and lost. There's a maze of trails, but they all peter out. Eventually I find a huge boulder the size of a house. I crawl under the boulder and squat on my hunkers, sheltered from the rain, except for the toes of my boats, which I can't make to fit. It smells warm and loamy here. I am comforted by the closeness of my hideout. I hunker this way for a long time as sheets of rain fall. Eventually I get tired and wedged between the soft black dirt under me and sharp granite pressed on my wet shoulders I drift in and out of sleep. I wake. It's not raining and only the trees drip. I crawl out of my shelter and make my way down a small trail. I come to a creek and a field of huge granite boulders. This isn't the way I hiked up here, and the trail goes no further. Fuck this. I hike quickly back up to the radio tower. From there I do my best to retrace my steps. I recall the last part of the trail was through open small trees, and I had picked my way through the trees towards the summit, rather than having followed a real trail. I curse myself for not having left when it was still light. I scour the stunted forest and eventually find a marker on a tree next to a faint trail. I follow, apprehensive at first, and then with flushing confidence as I recognize a wooden bridge over a rocky section of granite. I am confident I am getting out of here tonight, and am going to make my morning flight. I start owling as I walk off the mountain, but get no response. When I reach the nature trail it starts to rain. I owl a little more, but the rain picks up, and I decide to descend into Victoria. It's a steep decent into town, and by the time I reach the upper suburbs the rain has stopped. I consider hiking back up the hill, but the sky is starless and the mountains are wrapped in clouds. I check out a rustle at the side of the road and find a great tenrec, a sort of hedgehog. After a long walk I find an open convenience store where I buy a coke from a small man hunched over by scoliosis. A little refreshed I walk back to Chez Lorna, a walk that takes a couple of hours. Victoria is eerily quiet. Dehydrated and beat I drink a couple of liters of water and then fall asleep.

October 8th. I wake before dawn. I wash my clothes in the sink and pack for my flight. I catch the bus into Victoria. At the bus station, I buy a questionable English breakfast in a box which I eat while waiting for a bus to the airport. I have plenty of time at the terminal before my midday flight so I lay out my wet boots in the hot sun to dry.

I was booked on Kenya Airways direct to Nairobi (and then on to Mayotte), but the schedule had changed by 16 hours which no longer worked for the leg to Mayotte. I had to purchase a replacement flight via Mauritius to Nairobi. This is a the long, wrong way to get to Nairobi. The journey was made slightly more interesting by a 35 minute lay over in Mauritius, where I have to run through the surprising large airport to make my connection. In contrast I have 13 hours to wait in Nairobi. The international terminal of Jomo Kenyetta isn't a terrible place to be. I'm able to stretch out and sleep a few hours. And I finally get to thoroughly dry out my bloody boots so they don't stink up the plane.

October 9th. I catch the morning flight from Nairobi to Mayotte. Mayotte is one of four major islands in the Comoros Archipelago. These island lie in the Mozambique Channel between Africa and Madagascar. Each island has it's own endemic sops owl. Mayotte is unique because it's politically French despite it's geography and population (Comoran people). The airport is on a little island next to Mayotte itself, so after clearing EU immigration, I take a taxi brousse to a ferry terminal. It's just short ferry ride to the big island. Despite my horrific command of French, a really nice taxi brousse driver patiently listens to my request then spends a few minutes hunting down the right van to take me to the mountains. I cram into a really beat up Ford Transit and we drive for about 10km into the hills in the center of Mayotte where I am dropped off at a col. I walk a couple more kilometers down a red dusty road to Le Relais Forestier, https://www.giteamayotte.com/ a forest lodge in the hills. I am met by a nervous but kind Frenchman who explains that he did CPR on a coworker's daughter for 20 minutes this morning. Remarkably she is in the hospital and alive.

It's France. so the food is brilliant. After lunch I catch up on some sleep. My alarm wakes me at 430pm. I am so groggy tired and confused that it takes ages for me to be able to get myself ready and out into the forest. I walk the entrance road, listening for Mayotte scops owl, which apparent will call during the day. I don't hear any owls, but I do see the endemic drongo, white eye and sunbird. A France's sparrowhawk calls noisily from a tree. There are also plenty of lemurs, which seem charming until they start shitting from high overhead. The sun sets, and almost immediately the scops owls commence singing. I knew these owls though very restricted in range where common in the remaining forest. Still I am amazed, an owl sings, another starts up, then another, soon five, then more. I play a tape, but they don't seem to respond, probably they are used to other owls singing very close by. At my fourth attempt I do get a bird to hunker down in a thicket and sing strongly. I clamber through a viney tangle and over some big boulders and there low on a horizontal vine is a singing Mayotte scops owl. The song is a steady deliberate series of hoots that sounds more like a Strix owl than an Otus. It's a medium sized scops owl. Ear tufts are short, eyes are bright yellow, bill smallish and gray and cheeks both indistinctly marked and outlined. The breast and belly feathers have dark shafts, crossed with dark vermiculations. The flanks are washed tawny and the rest of the underparts are pale gray-brown. Toes are gray and unfeathered. Claws are gray and small. The upper-parts are gray-brown with few light feathers in the scapulars. The crown has both white spots and dark markings. Tail is short.

I walk on down the road and spotlight another singing owl high in a tree, and another flying. I come to an overlook and sit down so I can listen to the owls. Far below I hear the Adhan from a mosque.

Dinner is served communally, and is brilliant. By the time I have eaten it's 9pm, and after last night at the airport I am in need of sleep.

October 10th. I wake around 4am. I step out onto the veranda and listen to a pair of duetting scops owls. Eventually the night sky fades. It's time to leave. I see one last scops owl in flight as I walk through the grounds of the lodge. I walk back along the dusty entrance road to the main road.

Predawn walk from Le Relais Forestier

The first vehicle that passes me is the same old Ford Transit that picked me up yesterday. Unfortunately a couple of minutes down the hill the van gets caught in traffic. After about a half an hour of barely moving, I set off on foot, passing a couple of kilometers of cars as they wait their turn at a round-about. I gather with some local people at the round-about waiting for another van. A Peugeot car pulls up, and I hop in with a young couple who were waiting. Only when I get to the ferry terminal do I realize this wasn't an unmarked cab, just a nice guy offering us a ride in rush-hour traffic. I grab a quick breakfast at the docks, then hop a ferry to the airport.

Ferry to the airport

I arriv at the airport at 8am, expecting a 10am flight with AB aviation. AB had confusingly updated their schedule and my flight ends up leaving at 1245pm.  I loaf around the hot airport all morning and am  mightily relieved when AB aviation's rather old propeller plane shows up. I squeeze on board and stare pessimistically at the plane's wing scared by crude repairs and small dents.

The flight to Anjouan (part of Comoros) is uneventful. Ouani airport at Anjouan comprises of a tiny runway that leads from the beach, quite steeply up into the hills. Several planes, and an old fire truck decompose under a tangle of vines next to a tiny concert terminal. Although only a dozen passengers disembark it's completely chaotic clearing immigration. I meet Patrice ( patricekeldi@yahoo.fr ) here, a fixer that Ross Gallardy had recommended. Somehow Patrice is able to convince the custom's guy not to search my bag, on the down side we manage to slip through immigration without picking up a visa.

Patrice is a fun, if slightly roguish slight man. He runs a store, and has a side line in assisting tourists in Anjouan. Ouani is a small place without any obvious trappings (restaurants, ATMs etc) of a tourist destination. It's hot and dusty as we walk to Patrice's well worn Toyota 4wd. We stop for a warm egg and mayonnaise sandwich and then head out to Moya forest at the other side of Anjouan. Although only 20km away as the crow flies, we have to cross the island's mountainous back bone twice and the drive takes over two hours. Along the way we drive through groves of cloves and ylang ylang. In places the road is good, and in others it's completely destroyed and we lurch over rocks and broken asphalt. Climbing the mountains the second time we pass a huge baobab tree overlooking the Indian Ocean. "Symbol of Africa" gushes Patrice. Elephant-like, and enduring it's a good likeness for the physicality of Africa. Descending from the mountains again, after many, many switchbacks, Patrice pulls over. He asks me to take my backpack as his Toyota was broken into when he parked here before.

We hike up through mango and banana groves, mixed with gullies of original forest. After climbing for a kilometer or so, we reach an area with a few larger native trees. It's only 4pm, so we wait. Small flocks of song birds pass, and I see the endemic fody, drongo, sunbird, brush-warbler and white-eye. Vasa parrots call noisily from a snag, while blue pigeons flirt with the late afternoon sun. Huge fruit-bats fly high overhead. Eventually I doze off. Mosquitoes wake me at sunset. I douse myself in Deet, as malaria is common here and wait for the owls. While it's still light we hear our first Anjouan scops owl. It's a lovely modulated whistle, not completely different from a bay owl song. Patrice enthusiastically tells me to use playback, and soon a scops owl flies in and perches on a open bough. It's medium sized, with ear-tufts. Soon it flies much closer, and I can see just what a strange and amazing owl it is. Almost black, with just the finest white bars across the breast. Eyes are yellow, bill dark gray. When it sings it extends it's neck dramatically and opens it's bill wide. This is a very rare bird, with about 50 pairs remaining. We leave soon, so we don't disturb them excessively.

The walk back to the car after seeing Anjouan Scops owl

Patrice is keen to get to his Toyota, and despite wearing dress shoes he jogs down the trail. I follow after, clomping along with my big brown boots. No one broke into his car. It's a lovely drive back with the windows down. We stop where ladies hawk baguettes outside the bakery gates, and I buy a couple of small loafs for us to eat. Later on Patrice stops at a water bottling plant to pick up half a ton a bottled water for his store. I think I hear a barn owl at this place, but can't be sure. The drive back over the mountains is slow with the extra weight of the water.

Around 9pm we pull into the Al Amal hotel, a big shore-front hotel in suburban Mutsamudu (the main city of Anjouan). The hotel is a mass of concrete, with two sky blue swimming pools that are as empty as their rooms. The hotel staff are really nice, and although the kitchen is closed, they rustle me up Octopus cooked in hot sauce with rice. Despite being a Muslim country, they serve beer here, and I treat myself to a cold Heineken. By 10pm, I am in bed, exhausted.

October 11th. The heat and the light from the big ocean front window wake me at 6am. At breakfast I ask around about obtaining a visa. The staff tell me to speak to Patrice, who sure enough is waiting in the lobby. He agrees to help me get a visa, some Comoronian Francs and a ferry ticket. Today is Friday and most everything closes at 11am so I appreciate his help. Patrice knows everyone at the immigration building. Both Patrice and the administrator are stunned that I don't have Euros. Patrice kindly loans me the Francs to pay for my visa. Later I exchange dollars at the bank. At the ferry office I am asked for a bribe to get on tomorrow's "sold out" boat. Reluctantly I pay it.

I don't really have anything else set for the day. Patrice offers to show me around old town Matsamudu. I take him up on this, and we walk around a labyrinth of very narrow alleys. Above tall old buildings lean precariously towards each other. There is a lot of crumbling architecture. It's both charming and and slightly claustrophobic. I am surprised that Patrice flirts with so many of the women he meets on the street.

Patrice

After our tour we return to the Al Amal and I pay Patrice. I consider trying to get to the mountains tonight for another look at the scops owl. It's clear that this is going to involve a lot of night hiking, and in the end I decide to skip it. In the evening I take another walk into town. Matsamudu really is a remarkable town, both ramshackle and vigorous.

Matsamudu

Matsamudu

I eat a brilliant fish curry for dinner and watch the fruit bats in the palms from my balcony.

October 12th. After a light breakfast I shower and pack, then head out for the docks. It's a hot dusty walk and by the time I arrive at the SMT ferry terminal it's pandemonium. I stand in line for about an hour in the hot sun to get my bag weighed. It's a constant jostle not to lose my place as fellow passengers jockey for position. SMT staff yell a lot at the passengers, and the place it just unbelievably noisy. We are eventually led into very hot waiting room. There is a lot more yelling by the staff then after another hour and a half we are lead onto the boat. My ticket has a picture of a fast looking aerodynamic boat, but we board a modern enough looking, but very slow ferry. The journey to Moroni (the main island of the Comoros) takes over 6 hours. Along the way I see a couple of Bulwer' petrels, as the boat lumbers through the blue swell under the relentless afternoon sun.

We arrive just after dark in Moroni. Right away I am concerned that it's been raining heavily and Mt Karthala, the huge volcano high above town is wrapped in thick cloud. Hopefully it's not raining up there. It's intimidating to have to get up to the volcano with my handful of French words in the dark, but after a couple of short cab rides I arrive in Mvouni, the small town at the trailhead. I get dropped off at a hotel where I hope to get directions to the trailhead. Alas the hotel is closed. I walk around, and find a guy selling chicken cooked on charcoal. I haven't eaten since breakfast, so I buy some, along with a fanta and grilled manioc. Another customer shows up, and I ask him the way to Mt Karthala. He kindly takes me to the unmarked trailhead at the head of the village. It's 8pm, and the owls inhabit the forest at least two hours up the trail. I thank him and set off up a narrow rocky path that climbs through fields of bananas. It's really overgrown and the wet vegetation soaks me. Not wanting to stop and eat, I open up my bagged dinner and suck the meat of the bones as I hike. I gulp down the manioc, but it's so dry and starchy it gets stuck in my throat. I panic as a struggle to swallow. I fumble for the canned fanta and eventually crack the can and gulp enough down to be able swallow. I eat the rest of the manioc very warily.

After an hour of hiking the stony trail it veers off to the left and begins to descend.  Ah fuck. It's not the trail up the mountain. I hurry back down to Mvouni, soaked through with sweat, my hands covered in chicken grease. I am a fool. Back at the trailhead I take a diagonal track and start hiking until I reach a gravel road, and then a gate. The road leads straight up and I follow it as fast as I can manage. I consider dumping my pack, but it's nice to have as it carries my bivy tent and sleeping bag. It's a long climb into better forest. Along the way I pass small stands of intact forest and tape for Grande Comore scops owl. A couple of times I get a (African) barn owl to fly in and investigate. It's a dark mantled bird compared to the barn owls I see in Oregon. After two hours of hiking up the correct track I come to fairly decent mountain forest. After taping a a couple of times I get a response. I lie down on the stony track, and stare at the vast black sky. A scops owl flies into the canopy. It takes a while, but I eventually get a good view. The song of this scops owl is a short repeated toot, similar to a Northern Pygmy owl but delivered rapidly. I can's see it's tiny ear tufts. The eyes are yellow. The plumage is really dark with fine light bars on the underparts. The belly and flanks have some rufous tones. The upperparts are dark, with a couple of pale feathers in the scapulars. It's a small scops owl. I'm just thrilled. It's midnight and I have hiked miles. I was worried that the rain and wind that Mt Karthala is well known for would ruin the owling. I grab my wet sweaty backpack and walk happily down the track for a few minutes, until I find a grass spot on the side of the track where I pitch my bivy. Despite the coffin-like dimensions of the bivy I fall into a deep sleep.

October 13th. I sleep until dawn. I pack my dew-soaked camping gear. I have no food or water, so it's a long, parched walk off the volcano on an empty stomach down to Mvouni. The forest is full of birds, and I see fodies, white-eyes, sunbirds, both vasa parrots, Comoros olive pigeon and the thrush. Quite a lot of friendly guys pass me going up the mountain, mostly farmers and a group of guys who are hunting.

In Mvouni I grab a coke, I'm completely parched and it tastes brilliant. Then settle in for a long wait for a share taxi to Moroni. A man suffering from compulsions known only to him paces into the road, checks for rain with an open palm and then ducks dramatically back under an awning again and again, dozens then hundreds of times.
Six of us squeeze into an old diesel Renault and ride down the steep hill to Moroni. Outside the taxi stand is a remarkably cosmopolitan-looking cafe. The sign declares "brunch buffet". I demolish a huge plate of delicious French breakfast items and real coffee. I am fortified again. Using their WiFi I track down a hotel. I walk to the Hotel Arcades, which is sort of shitty and expensive. Still it's a safe place to dry out my gear and hang out. It rains for most of the day and I don't do much. A couple of times when the rains ease up, I walk down to the docks. There is a big market and it's good entertainment. Moroni is the biggest town in the Comoros, but it's still small enough to feel safe wandering around, even after dark.

October 14th. My alarm beeps at 445am. I pack and head out. A beautiful moon sets over the ocean. I search the quiet streets for a taxi. I find one and the driver does not speak French, so he takes me up the street to his friend who translates. It's a long drive north out of town through naked sharp lava flows to the airport. I'm first person to arrive. It's fun to watch the airport staff arrive. There is obvious warmth between people.

The flight to Moheli (the last major island in the Comoros) on AB aviation is fine. There is a tiny store outside the terminal, I squeeze inside, and am delighted to find a lady who both serves coffee and speaks English. After a couple of cups, she points me in the direction of Auberge des Abou, a coastal hotel just up the road. After a short sweaty walk I arrive at the hotel. The non A/C rooms are cheep and the staff are really helpful. I order up a real coffee and plan my owling. I have a very useful trip report by Markus Lagerquist. He found Moheli scops owl within walking distance of this hotel, in remnant forest that crown the hills in the center of the island. I decide to scope out the area in the day time. It's a really hot walk west along the coast road, then inland and steeply uphill. Utility wires run next to the road, from which a half dozen fruit bats have been electrocuted. Their unfortunate corpses hang from the wires, baking in the relentless sun. Eventually the road peters out into a path, which leads through some fields and then into some degraded forest. This seems to be the place that Markus described in his report.

I spend the rest of the day at the hotel waiting for dark. A noisy group of Peace Corp teachers descends on the hotel and I retreat under my headphones for some peace from the corp. Late in the afternoon I hike back up to the owl site on the hill. Despite the setting sun I am soaked with sweat when I reach the end of the road. A steady stream of local people pass me, returning from their fields. I find a log to sit on and wait for darkness. In a thicket below me a paradise flycatcher scolds noisily. Has the flycatcher has discovered an owl? Piqued, I scramble down the steep hill into the thicket. The paradise flycatcher falls silent. The thicket looks just perfect for a scops owl so I hunker down and wait. A moment later a long winged creature passes. My first impression is that it's a bat, based on it's erratic flight. I follow it into the thicket and find it perched on a large branch. Scops owl! It drops onto the leaf litter and then flies up into the tree again. It's larger than Grande Comore scops owl, with only slight ear tufts. In the flashlight it's eyes shine back and I can't make out color. The cheeks are chestnut and the lower edge of the facial disk is black. The legs are sparsely feathered, and legs and feet are pale gray. The tail is brown, darkly barred. The upper-parts are fairly uniform dark brown with reddish tones, like mahogany wood. The scapulars are lighter. Then it starts calling, two loud explosive scream-like growls. Amazing. This owl was just discovered 20 years ago. It's wonderful to just stumble upon this bird without playback. There are estimated to be just 400 pairs of Moheli scops owl.

I hike further along the trail in search of more owls. I hear another five owls across the valley and far away. Mostly the trail just crosses cleared land. Huge fruit bats fly by. Eventually I turn around and walk happily back to coast road as the yellow big moon rises over the Indian Ocean.

I eat chicken curry for dinner, sharing the meat with a slender cat that stalks the restaurant.

October 15th. I don't really have anything planned for today. After breakfast I set out to see if I can find a taxi brousse to cross the island. I end up giving up as I am short of Francs and I am wary of inadvertently chartering a vehicle and getting stuck with a large bill. Instead I walk the coast road. everyone is very friendly and apart from the relentless sun it's a nice way to while away the morning.

Baobab Tree "symbol of Africa"

Later I walk to the pier and check out the rusting boats.

Dead boat, Moroni

Late in the afternoon I pack and set out into the hills again. I try and cross the valley I visited last night to get situated in the better forest where I heard multiple scops owls calling from. After crossing a lot of banana fields I get to small gorge. It's not possible to clamber down the cliffs. It's nearly dark, so I decide to just wait here for it to get dark. I am surprised to see a Malagasy harrier quartering over the scrubby hillside. Despite drenching myself in Deet the mosquitoes are out with an appetite tonight. Malaria is common here, so I do my best to swat them away until a surprise owl flushes from the gorge and flies into a tree. It screeches hoarsely; much lower pitched than an American barn owl. Moments later it flies by and I see it's an African barn owl. I hear three scops owls, but all are on the far side of the gorge. It's a beautiful walk back to the hotel. Everyone greets me with either "bon soiree" or "As-salamu alaykum".

The thin elegant cat is waiting for me at the restaurant, and we share another chicken dinner.

October 16th. I wake early. I have a 2pm flight back to the "big" island of Moroni. I have plenty of time to eat a big breakfast then take a walk into town. Later at the airport I run into an Australian birder called Richard. The flight to Moroni goes well, although I have my usual misgivings about riding in a vintage African propeller plane. We hit turbulence and I curse the old plane. At the airport I dodge the taxis and walk out to the main road. While waiting for a taxi brousse, a couple of Comoran ladies pick me up in a Fiat van, once they realize I don't speak French they pretty much ignore me. Nonetheless I am entertained. They chain smoke and carry themselves with an autonomy I hadn't previously noticed in Comoran women. They kindly drop me at Les Jardin de Paix, which is the fanciest hotel I have stayed in this trip. It's a beautiful evening and I walk down to the docks. The kids are swimming in the harbor, while fruit bats patrol for fruiting trees.

Harbor area Moroni 

I find an Indian restaurant, Carre Four. The waitress is hilarious, refusing to believe I can't speak French, she keeps coming back to me with more questions in French.

Back at Les Jardin de Paix, I am able to order a beer, a rare beverage in the Comoros.

October 17th. After breakfast I take a cab out to the airport. It is a long hot wait, first outside the terminal, then inside before boarding my Kenya Airways flight to Nairobi. At Nairobi I had a three hour layover, then catch a flight down to Mombasa on the coast. At the approach to the runway I see brown standing water. A river has burst its banks. This isn't going to be good.

Mombasa's Moi airport is humid. Monkeys patrol girders in the ceiling. I am due to meet Albert, a bird guide from Sokoke Forest at arrivals. He's not there, and after waiting a while a friendly cabbie lends me his phone. I call Albert and he tells me that after unseasonable rains, traffic is really messed up. I wait around and watch the gray sky turn black. I turn down so many cabbies. After a couple of hours Albert shows up. He apologizes for the delay. We leave the terminal and almost immediately are caught in terrible traffic. For three and a half hours we inch along a muddy road, constantly jockeying a way forward. Huge trucks spin wheels as steam rises and they lurch dangerously into our lane. It's a real shit show. Eventually we come to a roundabout and are able to take a clear street. Then we drive two hours up to the small coastal town of Watuma near Sokoke Forest. Albert drops me off at Mwamba field study center, a Christian-based conservation cooperative that runs a lodge. It's midnight, and I am starving. Thankfully Patrice, the nightwatchman, has saved a plate of curried chicken for me. I say goodnight to Albert, wolf down the chicken and head to bed.

October 18th. I slept restlessly and get up before dawn. Patrice has made breakfast. I am delighted to find real coffee and am ready for the day when Albert shows up at first light. We drive up to Sokoke ranger station. I am excited because I have been thinking about Sokoke since 1991 when Pete Fox, a college friend, told me about this special coastal forest that's home to an endemic owl that occurs no where else in the world. (I later learned the Sokoke scops owl also occurs in a small area of Northeastern Tanzania). Because of it's very restricted range, the owl has a small population and is vulnerable to extinction. I made a fateful trip to Kenya in 1992 and had planned on travelling to Sokoke to look for the owl. I was heartbroken by a recent breakup and then derailed by salmonella and returned home defeated having never reached Sokoke.
At the ranger station Albert pays our admission. We walk around the administrative buildings in search of a resident pair of African wood owls. This was a bird I had heard in Gambia in 1992. I remember walking through tall grass in the darkness without a flashlight and praying for no snakes. I failed to see a wood owl in Gambia. Eventually Albert finds a wood owl roosting fairly high in a tree. It's drying itself off after last night's rain and it's feathers are loose and the wings are held low, consequently it looks bigger than I had expected. Both the wings and tail are dark brown, barred with warm, almost cinnamon bars. The breast and belly are off white with warm, light brown bars. The bill is conspicuously yellow.

We drive south to another gate and enter the reserve. After a long drive along sandy dirt tracks we park up. Albert instructs me to bird from the tracks why he searches for Sokoke scops. African barred owlet also occurs here, so I set off walking along the tracks and taping for the owlet. I don't get any response. After an hour I notice a message scrawled in the sand next to the car "wait here". I am excited that Albert has found the scops owl, however he soon shows up empty handed. We start a new strategy, walking together through the maize of elephant tracks checking out potential scops owl roost sites. We do this for another hour. Then Albert calls a friend. The friend saw a scops owl in the area yesterday. We continue searching for another hour until Albert's friend shows up on a motorcycle. He takes us down an elephant track to a thicket, but the owl isn't there. Albert stubbornly continues the search checking nearby thickets. Suddenly a beautiful big smile spreads across Albert's face. He grabs my shoulder and points. At head high just a few feet away an anxious Sokoke scops owl makes itself as trim as possible. It's a stunning owl. Not much larger than a deck of cards and so vividly orange it shocking to look at. It's eyes are beautiful lemon yellow and the ear tufts proud. The bill is pale. The breast is lightly marked with neat dark spots and the wings barred with light rufous bars, and dark spots along the shaft of the primaries. The owl flies a short distance away and perches. More relaxed now, it's plumage is loose and it looks less diminutive. It's just a gorgeous looking owl and I am thrilled to see it in the day light.

We try a couple of spots for the barred owlet, but this is essentially a nocturnal bird, and it's midday. We take a break and drive back to Mwamba field study center. The place has a really wonderful egalitarian feel, staffed by both local people and volunteers from abroad.

Late in the afternoon we return to the forest in search of African barred owlet.

Albert prowling Sokoke for an owlet

Albert tells me that the owlet will respond to scops owl calls. At dusk, while imitating a scops owl, Albert gets a response from another scops owl. With great skill he locates the owl several hundred meters away in a thicket. Sokoke scops owl occurs in red, brown and gray morphs and this bird is brown. It's a tiny light brown owl with small black dots on it's breast.

Back at the track it's now dark. We try for the owlet and get bush-babies crying like babies and jumping through the canopy of the trees. We also hear five African wood owls singing. Perhaps because of the unseasonable rain, or the calling wood owls we don't hear any owlets. We try another site and only hear wood owls. By now it's 730pm and we have to leave or risk getting locked in the forest at the gate. This would be fine for me, as we would have the whole night to find the owlet. Albert clearly respects the rules of the reserve and we rush to get out through the gate.

Back at the field study center I eat a robust dinner and talk with the volunteers.

October 19th. Albert had originally planned on taking me to Tsavo East National Park to look for roosting African scops and spotted eagle owls. These are both widespread African owls that would be new to me. Unseasonable rains have caused the Tsavo River to burst it's banks and even the robust Toyota landcruisers are unable to pass the flooded section of the road. There is no way we can make it in our modest Peugeot. Instead we decide to stay local. Unfortunately the Peugot is defeated by a small flooded area in the center of town and Albert shows up with a replacement car a little late.

We drive to Gede ruins, which are just out of town. Albert explain the ruins are a slaving town from about a thousand years ago. They are set in tall monsoon forest. African barn, Northern white-faced  and verreaux's eagle owls all occur here. Albert enlists the park guard to help us. It had been pouring last night and we are only able to find the eagle-owl. This is a bird I saw in Kenya back in 1991. It's an absolutely huge owl, with an outsized beak and talons. Most remarkably it has vivid pink eyelids.

Albert then takes me to the northern edge of Sokoke forest. We check some farmland for roosting Northern white-faced owl, but come up short. We also venture into the edge of Sokoke forest and try taping for the owlet but don't get a response.

Given how shitty traffic was in Mombasa we decide to leave early for my 4pm flight to Nairobi. The first couple of hours on the road are uneventful. Then at the northern edge of town we hit gridlock. After half an hour we have only moved a couple of hundred meters. We decide to hire a motorcycle taxi to take me the rest of the way. Albert does the negotiating. We say goodbye and thanks. I introduce myself to the rider, Hassan, and hop on his blue Chinese motorbike. The first ten minutes is like the car chase scene in The French Connection only slower. Hassan expertly pilots the bike through crowds of people on the sidewalk, then in and out of traffic, weaving the bike dramatically in front of roaring trucks and buses who come at us from either side. We slip through the smallest of fast disappearing gaps between unforgiving dusty wheels of huge trucks. We push through deep puddles and choking blue exhaust. Past beggars, hawkers and degenerate tourists prowling gogo bars for Kenyan girls. It's intoxicating. I feel bulletproof for ten minutes. We break free of the congestion and settle into a long hot ride into downtown Mombasa. It's clear that Hassan is out now of his element and does not know this part of town. I convince him to stop and ask directions. We do this about a half dozen times. I am mighty relived when we see a sign for the airport. We get to the security gate before the terminal. Hassan drops me there. I thank him and give him a proper tip.

Hassan (a very talented motorcycle rider)

Almost immediately a couple of Kenyan guys pick me up and drive me to the terminal. They tell me they saw me miles away on the back of Hassan's bike and knew that I was rushing to make a flight. I fly to Nairobi. At the terminal I meet a guy from the Comoros. He is distraught because he was making his way to a better life in Turkey when he was denied boarding on a Turkish Airlines flight. He had been in limbo in the airport for a couple of days. I try and talk to him on Google Translate but his French isn't formal and we get nowhere. He has gotten into a bottle of duty free. He weeps openly. It's hard to see any good way out of his situation. 

October 20th. The rest of the journey is unremarkable. I fly to Paris, then Seattle. The security lines in Seattle are fucked up and I end up running through the terminal making my flight to Portland by a couple of minutes. 

2019 Turkey, Northern Cyprus (and the UK)

"Well the cuckoo is a pretty bird, she warbles as she flies"

Tui, the boys and I had planned on visiting my family in England. My dad was to care for the boys, while Tui and I would visit Turkey and Northern Cyprus to look for two "new" owls. Magnus Rob and the Sound Approach in their excellent book "Undiscovered owls" suggest that scops owls in Cyprus are a separate species from Eurasian scops owl. Much more exciting they suggest that the very rare (and recently rediscovered) fish owls of Southern Turkey are a separate species (Turkish Fish owl) from the far more abundant Brown fish owl in India. Both splits were based on differences in their calls

June 22nd. Dad kindly picked us up from Heathrow and drove us to Fi's (my sister) house in Denton, rural Norfolk. It was great to see Dad, Fi and her family.

June 23rd. The family drove to the beach at Southwold for the day. After everyone had gone to bed, I walked around the flinty corn fields at twilight in search of owls. I had a very close encounter with a tawny owl perched on a five-barred gate. This is the owl of childhood, and to this day I think of Stix owls as the archetypal owls. Perfect in form and design.

June 24th. George slept really badly last night due to jet lag.

June 25th. George had another really difficult night. At breakfast Fi and Dad explained that they just didn't feel able to care for George while Tui and I took a trip to Turkey and Cyprus. Lately George has been a real handful and Tui and I were both concerned about how my family would manage him when he's upset. We spent a lot of the day trying to figure out what to do with the rest of the vacation. By nightfall we had decided that I would go to Turkey and Cyprus while Tui and the boys would stay in an airb&b near Fi's home.

June 26th. Dad drove us to the airb&b at Blofield Heath.

June 27th. Dad (the taxi driver of this trip) picked me up early and we drove to Stanstead Airport. As Northern (Turkish) Cyprus isn't recognized by any nation other than Turkey, I had to fly to Turkey (Istanbul), then change planes and fly to Ercan in Northern Cyprus. It was close to midnight when I arrived. I had reserved a car, but it had broken down and they didn't have a replacement. I had to hunt around with several agencies before I could find a car. I ended up with a really crap old black fiesta that rattled a lot.
I drove across the Mesorai Plain of central Cyprus up to the Kyrenia mountains. I took a tiny mountain road off the highway towards Buffavento Castle. At the first stop I got out and heard a Cyprus scops-owl. The bird sounded quite close, but I ended up chasing it down a very steep rocky hillside covered in prickly scrub, back below the noisy main highway and into some dense thickets. Eventually after 90 minutes it stopped calling and I gave up. I tried three more stops, and heard a barn owl. At the fourth stop I heard three Cyprus scops-owls quite close. After ten minutes I saw one in flight between a couple of stunted cyprus trees. Ten minutes later I got a great view of singing scops owl in a small pine tree.
Driving into Girne I saw an owl on a wire. I backed up the road and got good views of a Lillith (little) owl.
Sadly Tui had made a reservation at a really nice hotel in Girne. I didn't have directions, so asked a couple of guys, who very kindly drove there, while I followed through a labyrinth of streets. I stepped into the fantastic looking stone hotel. No one was at reception. A note suggested I call "0", which I did a few times to no avail. Fortunately there were some key cards. I chanced it, and the card opened the door to a vacant room. I felt a little uneasy, but soon settled into a deep sleep.

June 28th. I did my best to sleep in, then spent the middle part of the day avoiding the intense sun. In the afternoon I drove up the lonely Karpaz Peninsular at the far eastern end of Cyprus. This turned out to be an excellent destination, free of condominiums and casinos which blight much of the area around Girne. I parked at the very end of the road, beyond which are a couple of islets, then the Middle East. A few Audouin's gulls flew by, a new bird for me. The peninsular is famous for wild donkeys, and a few came to insect the car. Suspicious that they had an appetite for wiper blades (some where discarded on the ground), I shooed them away.

 Karpaz's wild donkeys

I enjoyed a long evening and beautiful sunset before driving a few miles back down the peninsular. I stopped at the first area of farmland, which had some promising looking larger trees. As soon as I got out the car I could hear a Cyprus scops owl. I hiked up through the fields towards the scops owl. I passed an old dusty tractor and I saw a Lillith owl calling from a fence. Higher up the hillside I found a pair of Cyprus scops owls singing in some small cyprus trees. There was still light in the sky, and the owls were very easy to see. Back at the car I saw a barn owl flying into a grove of eucalyptus trees. What a brilliant evening! I also found a couple of Eurasian nightjars perched on a dirt road by their eye-shine. It was a longish drive back to Girne, I was hoping for more barn owls but didn't see any in the headlights.

June 29th. I decided to go check out both Girne Castle by the town harbor and later Buffavento Castle in the Kyrenia mountains.

 The hike up to Buffavento Castle in the Kyrenia Mountains

The mountains were beautiful, and I did a couple of short hikes before returning the car to Ercan airport.
It was a short flight to Antalya in Southern Turkey. I picked up a rental car and drove east, parallel to the coast to the seaside resort town of Side. I parked the car at the edge of the old town, and walked through dramatic Roman ruins along with many tourists. Tui had reserved a guest house in town, and checking in I was again reminded of how much she would have liked this place. I had an early start tomorrow for fish owls, and it was a long way through the larger city of Manavgat to get to good owl habitat, so I decided to stay in town. I did walk back through the ruins after dusk and found a little owl. It was scolding a couple of people who had gotten to close to a nearby begging juvenile.

June 30th. I woke really early at 4am, nervous about the day. The rediscovery of the fish owl was the genesis for this trip. I arrived early at Side gate, a Roman gate, next to a colosseum, a fabulous place to rendezvous. At 5am, Mehmet, my guide, pulled in in a silver Toyota and purposely waved me over. Mehmet knew a lot about the owls, and was an economics major who worked for Vigo Tours, https://vigotours.com/, the outfit who organized the fish owl tour. I never asked how he got into owls, but suspect it may have been photography, as he carried a big camera. We drove for about 30km to the upper reservoir on the Manavgat River. Despite a warm calm dawn at Side, the reservoir was blasted by a North wind from the Anatolian plains.We boarded a surprisingly large lake boat, while the wind whipped up white caps and blew the plastic chairs across the deck. This didn't look good. "The owls don't like the wind or the sun" Mehmet proclaimed.
Buffeted by the wind we sailed across the lake to the "little canyon". The wind wasn't so bad in the tight canyon, and soon Mehmet had found an adult fish owl. I found a juvenile perched nearby. Wow! These are big wonderful peach-colored owls, with inscrutable pale golden eyes, powerful beaks and feet, and wild rakish ear tufts.

 Oymapinar Barji (Green Canyon) at dawn.

The boatmen skillfully turned the boat around in the narrow Canyon, then sailed back across the lake to the big canyon. We followed this canyon for a couple of miles. Dramatic limestone slopes and cliffs rose out of the water. Determined pines grew out of cracks in the white rock. Eventually we slowed and Mehmet found an owl, moments later I found another. Again an adult and a juvenile. We sailed back out the canyon and across the lake. Mehmet gave me some good tips on finding tawny owl and common scops owl in the mountains beyond the lake.
Late in the afternoon I drove out into the mountains towards Konya. I was amazed at view of huge snow covered mountains that were so close to the hot coastal plain. I turned off the main highway towards the village of Uzumdere and stopped at an abandoned walled graveyard that Mehmet had recommended for tawny owl. By now it was early evening. The graveyard was full of unmarked stone graves, and packed with mature Oak and Cyprus trees. It was a wonderful place, marred only by thousands of tiny flies that swarmed my eyes. I searched diligently for roosting owls, and although I found lots of whitewash, I could not find an owl.
I then drove the rest of the way to Uzumdere. The road followed a beautiful green-river shaded by mature deciduous trees. I was passing a fish farm, where two dogs and some children were playing by the roadside. I drove slowly by, when one of the dogs got up and stepped in front of the car. I heard a thump and then the dog crying. I got out of the car to find a white toothed, slender black and tan pup crying on the porch. A man came to the door and waved me off. I did my best to say that I was sorry. I felt terrible and surprised, having driven by countless roadside dogs without really considered that they may just walk into the car. I was still feeling shaky when I pulled into the mosque parking lot at Uzumdere. It was still well before dusk, so I took a short hike to calm down. On the way back to the car I saw a small owl fly up to a wire. I was surprised to see it was a Common scops owl. A few minutes later I found another bird singing from an utility wire behind the mosque. I had not seen this species since the late eighties.

Uzumdere Mosque

I returned to the walled graveyard passing the fish farm, where I was heartened to see the kids playing on the road. Hopefully their dog was OK. I parked up discreetly and walked around the graveyard. Eventually a tawny owl sang from a tree in the field, then flew into a large oak at the edge of the graveyard.

Almost as soon as I got back onto the highway, I saw a food cart (a converted Iveco bus) by the side of the road. I made a hasty u-turn and parked up. I was very warmly greeted by the patrons and the proprietor. I ordered a meal, which turned out to be a pickled cabbage salad and hot lamb sandwich. I ate it at a tiny wooden table, under a blazing starlit sky. A teenager breastfed her babe in an old green Renault 12. Two Anatolian dogs just loitered. The air was cool and smelled of pine and dust. I don't drink tea, but stayed and had tea, just to linger. 

Back in Side, I parked out of the old town and walked past the Roman ruins. I found four little owls, including a couple of noisy begging juveniles in the ruins.

July 1st. I didn't have a special agenda today. I woke late, walked Side and swam in the warm Mediterranean. In the afternoon I returned to Oymapinar Barji, through a maze of confusing small country roads. 

  Oymapinar Barji (Green Canyon)

Near where the boats dock, Mehmet had pointed out a small cave where tawny owls purportedly nest. It was an exhilarating climb over sharp and lose limestone to the cave. Alas, there were no owls when I peered in.

My next goal was to hike as close as possible to the small canyon and see if I could find a hunting fish owl at dusk. I followed a small gravel road, that lead to a rather mysterious, but delightfully cool, half mile tunnel. After the tunnel the track petered out, and I had to scrabble around to get to the nearest bit of shore to the owls site. (It wasn't feasible to get to the exact roost as they where perched on a true cliff). The lake side was beautiful, and in the solitude I fell asleep on a slab of limestone. I woke well before dusk, and waited some more. Bats appeared. A scops owl flew by. A distant owl hooted once. It sounded more like a long-eared owl, than the recordings I have of a fish owl, but it's hard to be certain. Eventually it became completely park, and no fish owl had emerged. 

Oymapinar Barji (Green Canyon) at dusk

It was tricky to hike back along the steep rocky slope and I was relieved to find the tunnel mouth. Tonight I found only one little owl on my walk from the car park through the ruins to old town Side.

July 2nd. I swam in the Med again and took one last walk around Side and the ruins, then headed back towards Antalya to catch my midday flight.  The freeway to Antalya had traffic lights, which I noticed local people took to be advisory rather than compulsory. Driver tended to run red lights just after they changed, and more bizarrely anticipate a light about to turn green, and run it while still red. Following a Renault, I was surprised when it anticipated a light still green, but was about to turn red and stopped. My surprise turned to horror, when I hit my brakes, but the car barely slowed. I started to skid, and it was clear I didn't have space to stop, I let off the brakes and blew through a complex intersection that was dense with obstacles (concrete utility poles and tangential vehicles).  I made it through the intersection unscathed, with what felt like pints of adrenaline coursing through my veins. But a swift minute passed and a Turkish police car was on my tail. I pulled over against a steel barrier. The officer got out. "I am sorry" I offered sincerely. "You are not sorry. You went through a red right" he replied dryly. We conducted the rest of our conversation with Google translate on his phone. I was freaked out that I would get taken to the police station and miss my flight. This was not the case. I was ticketed and told to pay at a bank or post office at the airport. I felt like a cursed idiot after hitting the dear and destroying my beloved Honda last month, hitting the dog two days ago and then almost getting into a terrible accident today. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Antalya airport confused me. I didn't realize that there was a second terminal. It was that one I flew from. The one without a post office, and with one bank that changes money, but does not allow you pay traffic citations. 

July 3rd-6th. The rest of our stay in England went well. George was doing a lot better and was sleeping. The flight home with the boys was also unremarkable.