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Last night at our daily kitchen table strategy session, Zeke and I decided that the only birds left to go for were the Cackling Goose and Pink-footed Goose in Middletown, Rhode Island. This morning Zeke came downstairs with 4 more. As my Big Year Director of Field Operations – New Hampshire Division, his word carries great weight. First, he will accompany me to Manchester to shoot again for the Barrow’s Goldeneye. Then I will try for Lesser Black-backed Gull, Iceland Gull, and Glaucus Gull in Leominster, then on to Rhode Island for the geese. Six possible new ones instead of two.

At the Merrimack River in Manchester, Zeke skillfully plucked the goldeneye out and served it up (560). In Leominster I found one of the three gulls, Iceland (561):

As I passed over the Rhode Island state line, I entered the 26th state of this year. Some searching finally yielded the large flock of Canada Geese that would hold the two suspects. As I raised my scope into position, the worst possible thing happened: an idiot and his dog walked right into the flock, scattering them in all directions. It was like a kick in the stomach, truly sickening and a low point for the year for sure. One of the geese in flight appeared to be smaller than the rest, likely a Cackling, but that was the end of the goose chase for the day. I tried one more time for gulls in Leominster but all I got was an hour of stalled traffic instead. A long day, lots of effort, but only 2 more. But, it puts me at 9 for the trip. I’m on the threshold. Tomorrow we set out for the cold waters of the North Atlantic for what I hope will be 3 more new ones, leaving me with 12 for the trip – a complete success.

Today Zeke had to take care of domestic duties so I sped down to Gloucester to search for a few new ones. First I went directly to Fort Stage Park, I think it’s called that, where Snow Buntings have been reported recently and a sore miss from yesterday could be rectified. The park has ball fields and lots of open space. Within two minutes a small flock of Snow Buntings (559) crossed the road and fed close by.

It’s a huge thrill to get a bird you missed before, especially this one since I need every species. From there I went straight up to Andrew’s Point, hoping my new-found invincibility would lead me straight to a King Eider. Recent reports gave me hope but it was not to be. The conditions were brutal with a howling wind and teen temperatures. The seas were a tempest. From there I thrashed around the docks in town but I could find no white-winged gulls, nor at Niles Pond.

I had a good lead for Barrow’s Goldeneye in Newbury on the Merrimack River but all I could find were Commons. Ditto for the millyard in Manchester. By then it was going on 4 pm which means the end of the day. So I made up the one point deficit from yesterday, putting me up 7 for the trip. They say I can get 3 on the boat trip Saturday so I have to add one tomorrow. I have a good lead on one but it’s distant. But they say I must travel any distance, climb any mountain, ford any river to reach my destiny. And so I shall.

Now for some bad news. It’s pretty dire. I have been splurging and spending blindly all year and now after almost twelve months, my Big Year Meals, Drink, and Dining appropriations is nearly depleted. I’m busted flat. The days of steak and lobster are over. I should have planned better. Restraint should have been exercised. Why did I live so frivolously? Starting tonight, I’m paying the price. Here’s what I get:

If it was good enough for Kenn Kaufman during his Big Year it surely is good enough for me.

Just as I was promised, first thing this morning at the feeders I added American Tree Sparrow (553). Once again I find myself in the lap of luxury here in this snowy wonderland in Bow, New Hampshire. This morning’s low was upper 20’s; tomorrow’s high will be lower 20’s.

Flush with victory, we made our way to the coast. The first bird we found was Great Cormorant (554) perched high on a navigation marker on the Hampton Beach jetty. Up the coast at Rye Harbor State Park we searched for Purple Sandpiper but we just couldn’t find one. While mulling our options, then taking one step to leave, along came a flock of 8 shorebirds. Dunlin? They landed! On the jetty! Could they be? I dropped my scope and ran across the top of the jetty for point-blank looks at Purple Sandpiper (555)! Good one! No need to go up the coast so we went straight to Salisbury, where we still could not find Snow Bunting.

On to Plum Island where Zeke astutely found a photographer focused intently on something. Snowy Owl? We went down to Lot 2 and a photographer on the way out confirmed the presence of an owl in the dunes. We went down to the next boardwalk and walked north along the beach until I saw a large white bird fly towards me. It landed in some bushes on the highest dune: Snowy Owl (556)!

Then bad news. The road was closed past Hell Cat. There goes Northern Shrike! We moped around Hell Cat for a few minutes and got in the car. Then it happened – a Christmas miracle struck. Better than the one on 34th Street. Suddenly the gate was open – wide open! I thought aloud that now we will probably find a shrike within 100 yards. We did! There it was perched up in a tree not far off the road: Northern Shrike (557). Since the road was open we continued to Sandy Point in hopes of Snow Bunting. Instead we got a perfect Black Scoter (558) in the scope, clearing up a soso Black seen earlier. That makes 6 out of the 7 I needed. We worked our way back up the NH coast, finishing in the fading light at Odiorne but unable to find any buntings.

Coming up one short only accentuates the drama. Somehow I need to overcome this one point deficit. There are some other possibilities out there. Tomorrow I have some targets lined up but it will take good luck and good navigating. I think I can do it.

The flight left Tucson almost on time and arrived in Chicago on time. Good, I’m better than half way. But departure from Midway was delayed so we could unload some freight to lighten the load so our landing on a slick runway in Manchester would be easier. Never seen that before but I was all in favor. We got into Manchester at 5:45 pm instead of 5:20. On the drive up to Bow in my Kia Rio (I used to own one of these and actually used to drive in snow with it) the drizzle changed to steady snow at the Hooksett toll booth. It all came back to me – this is why I moved three years ago. I made it to Bow at 7 pm where Zeke Cornell has been kind enough to put me up (put up with me?) for the duration of the week. He promises me American Tree Sparrow at his feeder at first light tomorrow morning. That’s one.

Then we head out for an all-out coastal blitz for the next 6 so-called easy ones. If we can get out on the fishing boat Friday for 3 more I will just need one more – Barrow’s Goldeneye in Manchester – to reach 11. It looks like the Pink-footed Goose in Dighton is gone as is the Barnacle Goose that was in Boston. I may not need these but it sure would help. Can I endure the cold, bleak, snowy landscape for 4 days? Will I overcome the elements, and, with shear determination, find what I came all this way to see? It’s a big Big Year.

One last shot at the gold. The whole year comes down to these final two weeks. Tonight I rest comfortably in a Tucson Airport hotel so I don’t have to scramble around early tomorrow. Then I take off for New Hampshire with a stop at Midway. Chicago weather looks clear and calm, then it’s on to Manchester where I can expect light snow and brisk conditions the rest of the week. I must get 11 new species in New Hampshire and Massachusetts, then 7 more in San Diego/Salton Sea, totaling 570. The 3 rosy finches at Sandia Crest will give me the win.

Meanwhile, it’s time for only what all the world has been waiting for – sadly likely for the last time – Fan Mail! Once again I will blindly reach into the one of the many sacks marked “US Mail.” I’m feeling around. But not checking for any contents. I think I have one. Here it is. I’m tearing open the envelope. Inside is a letter. I’m opening it – and I’m just as surprised as you are – it’s from a woman from overseas. But not just any lady – it’s from the Queen of England! Or, to be exact, “Elizabeth the Second, by the Grace of God, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and of Her other Realms and Territories Queen, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith.” Can I just call her “Your Highness”? True to form, the envelope includes the verifying photograph:

“Robert, your Big Year Blog is really rather astonishing!”, she gushes. “Your international renown is quite extraordinary if not somewhat inexplicable,” she continues. “I’m not quite prepared to knight you,” she explains, “but rather some say I should crown you.” Thank you, your majesty, I would be honored.

Yesterday I got a solid lead from Theresa Lawson on a goshawk in Ramsey Canyon. She said it was reported the day before too. I had pretty much given up on goshawk for the year at this point. But as I’ll point out in a minute, I’m desperate for a new species right now. So I defied the weather (rain) and climbed the Hamburg Trail up Ramsey Canyon as far as the Pat Scott trail and took a seat on a log. This is the exact spot I had two immature goshawks on 7 August, 2017. After an hour I got up to see what Red-breasted and White-breasted Nuthatches were fussing about. I was hoping they were mobbing a raptor but it was a false alarm.

Before I took my seat again I looked up and saw a large bird soaring, causing me to think it was either a Red-tailed Hawk or raven, not Cooper’s Hawk. I put my binoculars up and I could see it was not a Red-tailed and not a raven either. It was big and buteo-like but Short-tailed Hawk, the only other possible buteo realistically, isn’t recorded in the winter. It wasn’t a flying cross like a Cooper’s, leaving only goshawk, an immature Northern Goshawk (552)!

This is big, very big. Before today I needed 19 new species in New Hampshire and San Diego/Salton Sea. I have a list and I’m checking it twice, and I only see about 7 that I can get I can get in California, leaving 12 in New Hampshire. That’s a lot. But now with the Goshawk, I “only” need the 7 in California and 11 in New Hampshire. That’s a big difference. There are 8 seconds left in the game, it’s third down, I’m on the 20 yard line, and a touchdown wins the game. I really would like one more species here before I leave next week, just to get closer to the end zone. I play in an outdoor stadium and the weather could determine the outcome. It’s a real cliffhanger.

The end is near! (I can hear the cheering.) The Big Year is down to its final days. Two weeks from Tuesday, the 17th, I make my final push and arrive in New Hampshire to search for species on the list below. Then it’s on to San Diego and Salton Sea, finishing in New Mexico. My goal, you will remember, is to top Roger Tory Peterson’s record-setting Big Year of 1953 with 572. Currently I have 551. I need at least 10 new ones in New Hampshire, 11 would be good, that’s 562. Eight in California gives me 570, then three more in New Mexico gives me 573. I’ll need every one I can get – no misses. It’s doable if all goes well.

Last week’s Puzzler was about calculating which sack contains the fools gold. There are several sacks, one is all fools gold the others have real gold. Fools gold weighs one pound one ounce and regular gold weighs one pound each. You only have a penny scale and one penny. Weighing the whole sack doesn’t work for a lot of reasons. So instead … you take one piece from sack one, two pieces from sack 2, and three pieces from sack 3. You have 6 pieces on the scale. Put the penny in. If the total is 6 pounds, 1 ounce, the fake gold is in sack 1. If it weighs 6 pounds and 2 ounces, the fake gold is in sack 2. If it weighs 6 pounds, 3 ounces, the fake gold is in sack 3, etc, etc, etc. Do we have a winner? Yes! The winner is JP Gotrocks of Greenwich, Connecticut. JP is a retired Wall Street investment banker who knows his gold. He made his fortune the old fashioned way – by trading default credit swaps, collateralized debt obligations, and over-the-counter derivatives. If you are wondering where your house, your job, your health insurance, and your pension went over the past 10 years, you are looking at some of it, here’s JP’s “summer cottage” on Lake Winnepesaukee:

New Hampshire and Massachusetts birders should be on the look out for some of the following:

See you in two weeks!

Today, driven in part by boredom, I drove the half hour up the highway to the Benson Sewage Ponds to look for a Red-breasted Merganser, listed as rare as a migrant and wintering visitor in this area. I’m sure I could get this one in New Hampshire next month but it’s been over two weeks since I added a new species to the Big Year list. Besides, once this is out of the way, I don’t have to think about it later.

Within minutes of arriving at the ponds I found a long, low duck way out. When it brought its bill around, I could see it was red, long, and thin – Red-breasted Merganser (551). This is my 35th species of waterfowl for the year with a few more to come and it was new to my state life list. But it was easy to find and I’ll likely see many more later this year. I leave for my Winter East Coast Tour three weeks from today.

Heeding the chorus of cries for a new Puzzler, I herewith submit one to you. This is what they call a “minimum information problem” that drives some thinkers nuts but is fair game for Mensa members. You may need paper and pencil. Let’s say you have several sacks of gold, I don’t know how many. Inside each sack are many pieces of gold, I don’t know how many. One sack- and only one sack – contains “fools gold”, all the pieces are fake gold. The rest of the sacks have all true gold pieces. All the pieces of real gold weigh one pound each while each of the pieces of fools gold weighs one pound and one ounce. You have a scale but it’s a penny scale, you put a penny in the slot and it spits out a card displaying the weight of the object on the scale. You have only one penny. Determine which sack is the fools gold using only the scale and the one penny. Good Luck.

Meanwhile, here is the list, updated through Texas:

Two weeks ago I counted a Ruddy Ground-Dove in Tucson but I didn’t get a great look and certainly not a photograph. I was eager to find one closer to home. This morning I followed up on some recent reports of a Ruddy Ground-Dove just down the road at the San Pedro House. After an hour of searching, I found two under the water tower and got some pictures:

Much to my surprise, out of the thousands and thousands of letters and postcards from my readers, followers, and hangers-on, I didn’t receive any correct answers to last week’s Puzzler. To refresh your recollection, the question was: what is the connection between birding and 007. Here’s the answer. The James Bond novels were written by Ian Fleming, who was British and of course a birder. He wrote these books in Jamaica. In creating his protagonist, he wanted a character that was thrilling, daring, and death defying. By way of contrast, he wanted his name to be dull and ordinary. While thinking of a name, he looked around his office and there on his desk was his copy of “Birds of the West Indies”, written by – who else? – Bond … James Bond.

Tenuous though it may be, there you have the connection between birding and 007. To take the story one step further, in 2011 I went on Gary Markowski’s annual bird tour of Cuba. On the first day our first stop was at the home of Orlando Garrido, an old-style naturalist and dean of Cuban ornithology, best known for his co-authorship of the “Field Guide to the Birds of Cuba”. He was well into his eighties then and I believe he has since passed.

His study was filled with skins and mounts and specimens of birds, reptiles, insects, everything. He was that rare scientist who was also a good athlete – he played Wimbledon 6 times, he and his brother are the only two Cubans ever to have played there. After he discussed some of the birds of Cuba he asked if we had any questions. My hand shot up. I asked him if he knew any of the old-time ornithologists back when like Skutch, Wetmore, or Bond. He said he went birding in Minnesota with Roger Tory Peterson and corresponded with Alexander Wetmore. And Bond? He reached in the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a picture of him with James Bond. So there I was, hanging out with someone who used to hang out with the real James Bond, who, like a good ornithologist, probably got up early in the morning, didn’t meet glamorous women around the world, and probably didn’t drink martinis, shaken or stirred.

In January 1998, the big Big Year, reigning champ Sandy Komito flew from Newark to Phoenix, then drove to the Boyce Thompson Arboretum to search for one bird, Rufous-backed Robin, a rare stray from Mexico. Three hours later he found the bird. The next day he went back, presumably to get a better picture; after all, he came all this way. Here’s what he says happened next. “I return to the arboretum and meet two birders, Mark Phillips and Dana Green. With the three of us as a group, my hope is to be able to get a few good photographs but all we see are a couple of American Robins.” Yes, Arizona birders, that is the Mark Phillips you are thinking of, bird guide, raconteur, and keeper of the faith at the San Pedro House. Although he did not get featured in the Big Year movie, he did get mentioned in Komito’s Big Year book, yet somehow he manages to maintain a level head about it all. Mark we wish you well, you and your new knee.

Today was my turn to visit the Boyce Thompson Arboretum to search for a Rufous-backed Robin, first reported here on Wednesday. Despite a four hour search by me and several other birders, we couldn’t find it. Rumors swirled and hearsay abounded as to whether it was seen today and where. I searched for four hours and I’m satisfied it wasn’t present while I was there. Those are the breaks. You have to be like a good athlete and have a short memory about the losses and start clean tomorrow.

And now I have for you what you have endured without for far too long: a new Puzzler. This one is both ornithological and historical in nature, a good combination of two good subjects. Ready? Describe, with detail and particularity, the connection between birding and 007 (the British spy). I’ll have the answer very soon.