Biking birder I February 16th 2010 Blashford Lakes and the Famous Green Birder - Simon Woolley

 

16th February 

Brief Encounter Theme                                                  Sergei Rachmaninoff

Up and at them early on a cool morning, I cycled north. Once at Blashford Lakes Hampshire Wildlife Trust Reserve, I soon found some Bramblings [137], about fifty of them, mostly remarkably close to an octagonal hide, called the Woodland Hide. 

Also on view were remarkably close Siskins and Lesser Redpolls massed on the many feeders here. Now with so many finches in such close proximity to each other and being so close to the reflective glass windows of the hide, any perceived threat caused mass panic and occasionally there was a thump as a bird in its panic crashed into a window. Whilst I watched this did cause the sad death of one of the Siskins.

Later, whilst talking to a couple about what I was doing and why, I was approached by a young man with his girlfriend. “Are you Gary Prescott?” Obviously, the answer was yes. 

This turned out to have been asked by none other than Simon Woolley, an amazing cycling birder whom I have mentioned already and whose exploits back in 2005 had been so inspirational to my Green Birding dreams.

Now meeting Simon and thinking of the dynamic duo, Chris Mills and Simon, I looked up where they had both been, bird number-wise, on the same date back in 2005. Simon had been on 105 birds on this date. Meanwhile Chris had surged ahead on 139 having seen Hen Harriers, Whooper Swans, Waxwings and a Glaucous Gull. It seemed unbelievable to me that I was only two birds behind Chris' total. “Plenty of time to get ahead,” I thought casually. As for Simon, Hampshire was always going to be a tough county in which to compete against Norfolk. In the hide we chatted about Green birding. It was fabulous to meet him and say thank you to him in person.

              Away from this fine area of prime birding habitat near to the excellent visitor's centre, other gravel pits offered up new birds for the year. These included Green Sandpipers [138] with one on Ivy Lake and another seen on the Ibsley meadows with twelve Bewick Swans. On one of the gravel pits a Common Scoter [139] was quite a surprise bird being a sea duck.
              A Great White Egret [140] had been seen in various parts of the valley and I found it half a mile or so north of Harbridge. I knew of a back road to Fordingbridge and of some flooded meadows along it. I went down a grassy track accessing the area and there it was with two Little Egrets and a Grey Heron. Soon the GWE took off in the direction of Blashford Lakes. I phoned it in to Birdguides.

 

20.38 miles

410 feet elevation up   273 feet down                                                                  

Biking Birder I February 15th 2010 New Forest Shrike

 

15^th February

Stop the Pigeon Theme 

Paul Winchell

 

After leaving the confines of the Blue Bed & Breakfast and after cycling to Homesley Paddock, it took me four hours to find the reported Great Grey Shrike [135]. Now this was a bird I was determined to see and by constantly going up and down a disused railway track affording views of the surrounding heath, I eventually found the bird perched on a small hawthorn, far away from the area it had been seen in for a few days previously. Whilst searching for the shrike I also had Dartford Warbler [136], initially giving a buzzing call then seen briefly in the tall gorse.

Exploring the New Forest whilst moving ever closer to Ringwood, I enjoyed various titmice and finches, as well as the commoner woodpeckers and Jay.  

18.73 miles

655 feet elevation up    668 feet down                          

Biking Birder I February 14th 2010

 

A bird ringer's garden

14^th February  2010

The Red Flag

 

A long ride along the southern coastal road gave me splendid views of the coast. From St Catherine's Head, I cycled down to Blackgang Chine, reviving memories of family holidays there. It is amazing how what one perceives to be a huge injustice as a child stays with you. During one such family holiday, at the theme park sort of place here at Blackgang Chine, Mum and Dad had photographed my brother, Paul with my sister, Donna. They did not photograph me! As a ten year old with large ears that stuck out perpendicular to my head, I think they were worried about the camera. The fact that they had put both my siblings in the medieval stocks when taking the photograph was not lost on me. I sulked.

The straight road went from here towards Freshwater Bay and a car park overlooking same area had parts that had been washed away by coastal erosion. Chalk cliffs are always on the move.

Into the village itself to meet Daphne, Mike and Caroline for a day's birding. We walked along an old, disused railway line that had been converted into a lovely bridleway. Caroline was a bundle of birding energy, constantly disappearing to search every hedgerow, every muddy creek and every shallow pool. Birds were found; waders such as Black-tailed Godwits, Redshank and Curlew with a Kingfisher seen well near a small bridge. 

On reaching Yarmouth Harbour we said our goodbyes and I caught the ferry over to Lymington. By now the evening light was dimming and drizzle was replacing what had been quite a sunny day.

No room at the inn, I went into the only place that advertised vacancies, the Conservative Club! Now I have been an enthusiastic member of a different political party since I was eighteen. Back in the early 1970s I had been going with a group of lads in a clapped out Vauxhall Viva to Aston Villa away matches and seeing the conditions of the slum areas around Millwall Football Club had got me thinking about class privilege, Comrade. The camaraderie of those long gone days when four of us, and occasionally five, crammed into the small car and travelled to exotic football locations like Carlisle, Grimsby and Bradford, was fabulous. Humour, banter and singing no matter what the result, though obviously more ecstatic on those occasions when we, Aston Villa, did win. 

Villa vs Bournemouth 1972

Listen to the crowd between the two Villa goals!

Villa! Villa! Villa!

The Villa did win most matches back then as we were in what was then called the Third Division. Different days now in so many ways.

On this miserable, wet evening in Lymington I was unwilling to sleep rough and swallowing my socialist principles, I entered the club and was shown to a wonderfully comfortable room.

 Downstairs a lovely group of older people were playing bingo and being game for a laugh I went and joined in. Blow me down if I did not win the first game! I did not pay tax on the £5 winnings.

 

20.94  miles

1270 feet elevation up  1481 feet down