An Arkansas Big Year

My only preparation for an Arkansas Big Year (ABY) was to make sure my quest had Pat's full support. Though we had only a rough idea of what the enterprise would entail, we both knew I would approach it as I have every other challenge in our 41 years together - an all-out, 100%, obsessive compulsive, damn-the-torpedoes-full-speed-ahead effort, beginning to end! That was my only plan. At first.

It soon became apparent that Skip's separation anxiety and aversion to car travel meant that Pat would seldom be able to accompany me. My quest would be a solo affair. Or would it? I realized pretty quickly that if I was to have a successful Big Year I would need a lot of help. Fortunately, Kenny Nichols and Dick Baxter stepped forward to help with overall strategy, tactics, and metrics for measuring my progress. Also, I decided that I would "go public" with my ABY. By setting a specific target of 300 species and giving a blow-by-blow account on the ARBIRD-L listserv I hoped to recruit the help of the Arkansas birding community at large by involving them in my chase for 300. There was a second reason I chose to announce a specific numerical target. I find nothing more motivating than fear of public failure. Without a specific goal you cannot fail.

Most of the year I wasn't too worried about making 300, because I thought I had little chance. As the year progressed my estimates of the likely final total trended upward, but it wasn't until September that I began to think I could make it. That's when I hit the biggest speed-bump of the year. My 48-day year-bird drought in June and July was definitely frustrating, but not too surprising. I had already found almost all of the permanent residents. The real heartbreak was administered by a little Red-necked Phalarope. It was found by Jeff Wilson and seen by an entire group of ASCA field-trippers. While en route I spoke to an ecstatic Dan Scheiman who, along with the others, was still soaking-in the rarity. But when I arrived, the phalarope was gone, flushed by a passing Peregrine Falcon. All year long I had tried to maintain a certain emotional detachment. I would chase a lot of birds. I would get some and miss some. But the Red-necked Phalarope got to me. By the time I got home, two hours late for my 60th birthday party, I had a call from Karen Holliday saying the phalarope had returned and Jeff thought it was settling in for the night. At first light the next morning I once again stood alone on the side of the road searching in vain for the departed phalarope. That really hurt. It was far and away the most discouraging moment of my entire ABY.

I experienced many memorable highs during my 2007 ABY - relocating Mike Mlodinow's 1st state record Northern Shrike (the new curator assures me it's a lock), observing the 2nd state record Cave Swallow with Charles Mills and Max and Helen Parker, having the 6th state record Calliope Hummingbird show up at our backyard feeder, and experiencing a near-fallout of warblers with Dick and Sarah Baxter at Craighead Forest Park. These were all memorable. But the most exhilarating moment came near the end of the year when Joe Neal, Mike Mlodinow, Dan Scheiman, and I found a large falcon near Chesney Prairie. And promptly lost it! Then chased and found it again. And lost it. And finally found it yet again to confirm our tentative ID - a very rare Prairie Falcon. Being part of a team of intellectually and emotionally engaged birders bringing all of their birding skills to bear on a single purpose, and succeeding, was truly exhilarating.

Yellow-headed Blackbird, Spotted Towhee, Veery, Black-billed Cuckoo, White-winged Dove, and Common Tern are all birds that are seen in Arkansas every year, or nearly so. I tried hard for all of them, spending many days and driving thousands of miles in the search. I missed them all. In some ways my most unexpected find was Townsend's Solitaire. Don Simons found this bird at Mount Magazine. I wasn't able to reach Don for precise directions. I knew the solitaire was west of the Rufous-crowned Sparrows, which wasn't much help since I didn't know where they were either. As I random-walked the southwestern part of the mountain, pretty much lost, the Townsend's Solitaire found me. Twice. Sweet!

I birded almost every day for a year. I drove over 40,000 miles. Counting depreciation of the Prius, gasoline and oil, a set of tires, a $150 speeding ticket trying to get to St. Francis National Forest for the dawn chorus, about a dozen pairs of lost, broken, or scratched glasses, and a pair of walking shoes (I also walked 800-1000 miles), my ABY cost about $10,000. The real cost was the time away from Pat and Skip. I left Skip behind so many times that whenever I said bye to him, he growled. Pat never actually growled. There were times I knew my selfish quest was taking its toll on her as well, but I'm proud to say she finished the year strong. As did I. I found bird 300, Cackling Goose, on November 17 and ended my ABY with 307 species. The last bird was Northern Shrike.

Should you try to become the 4th member of the Arkansas 300 Club? Sure, but it won't be easy. Do you have to do it the way I did? Of course not. However, if you want to crack 300, you must chase every rare bird found anywhere in the state, immediately. Time is the enemy. Every passing second decreases exponentially the probability of relocating a bird. I refused to make medical or dental appointments or otherwise obligate myself to be anywhere that I could not leave instantly, for the whole year. It is the really rare birds you tally that will make the difference between a good year and a 300 year. And some of your best birds will literally fall out of the sky. You just have to be at the right place at the right time. That means you've got to spend a lot of time in the field.

Most importantly, make sure those closest to you are on board. Without their unreserved support you will fail. Few are fortunate enough to have partners that share their passion for birding. I have two. Fewer still are those whose partners love them enough to part with them for much of a Big Year. I'm a lucky man.

Dennis Braddy
Little Rock, Arkansas