Walking the Catwalk!

Among the tiny handful of birding events that I do every year is The New River Birding & Nature Festival in Fayette County, West Virginia. There are plenty-plenty reasons why I love this annual spring birding bacchanalia: it's run by good buddies of mine, the birding is truly incredible, Swainson's and cerulean warblers, the landscape is breathtaking, it's a small and intimate gathering of the tribe, they let me play music, there are hottubs in the cabins, and it's only a three-hour drive from the Bill of the Birds man cave. Now, there's another reason. The catwalk!

In the photo above you see a view of The New River Gorge Bridge which carries WV Route 19 across the vast, rocky, gaping maw of the New River Gorge. Do you see the horizontal line of brown steel girders running below the roadway? That's where the bridge's catwalk is located. Come along little kitty-cats and take a stroll with me. If you are acrophobic, you might want to stop reading now. I suggest you google the phrase "Rick-rolling" as an alternative way to soothe yourself.

Here is the understructure of the gorge bridge, stretching off into infinity, toward the south and the Fayetteville end of the bridge. We're climbing out onto the catwalk on the north end.


The company that owns the rights to take people on the catwalk (they market it as "BridgeWalk") has figured things out quite nicely. You are fit with a rather all-encompassing harness—the same kind that mountain climbers or bridge maintenance workers use. You are instructed to bring only items that can be lashed onto your body (see my binocs in the photo above). If you drop your precious iPhone over the edge, it's gone, dude.

The harnesses are attached to a lead which is latched via caribiner to a turnbuckle device that rolls along the safety cable. But that cable is attached to the bridge structure in about 50 places along its length. This is where the ingenious turnbuckle comes in: it ratchets through the attachment brackets, like a mini paddlewheel, while keeping you safely attached at all times. A few gentle tugs gets your line and harness past each attachment point. It's a very clever solution and much safer and more convenient than having to unhook and re-hook each bridge-walker's harness.

We walked the catwalk with six other people, plus a guide. Geoff Heeter, one of the New River Birding & Nature Festival founders and the fellow who invited me on this little adventure, wisely suggested we bring up the rear of the group. This was a very good call as we were able, after the first few sections, to lag behind a bit to take photos and do a bit of birding.

Here's our group, lined up for a photo, taken by our BridgeWalk guide Jim Smith.

And here's Geoff all harnessed up and grooving on the view. And speaking of the view: it is spectacular. I've been to the New River many times in the past 20 years, but being out over the gorge like this was a new and thrilling experience.

As you move out over the gorge, there is only the metal grate of the catwalk below your feet and two steel bands plus a top rail guarding you on the the sides. I'm not afraid of heights, but my knees did wobble a bit for the first 10 minutes or so. Once you get used to it, the thrill takes over for the chill and the experience becomes utterly enjoyable.


That's the New River way down yonder! But there are other fabbo things to see, too!

We saw at least four peregrine falcons on the bridge. These birds are from a population that was hacked on a local cliff face as part of a reintroduction program. We noted bands on the legs of two of them. And the birds seemed utterly unimpressed with the humans clanging along the catwalk—probably because there is a constant roar of traffic on the bridge just feet above, and because there is a steady stream of bridge maintenance workers, and now bridge tourists, coming along the catwalk each day.
The structure of the bridge has numerous holes, ledges, and perches perfect for peregrines. They have nested on the bridge for the past couple of years. Perhaps the birds we were seeing were adults with this year's young?

The BridgeWalk experience is going to be offered at the 10th annual New River Birding & Nature Festival next April 30 through May 5. The festival fills up really fast, so if you've been thinking about attending, don't wait! This final photo shows how close we got on our BridgeWalk to one of the peregrines—my closest look ever at a perched p-bird!

Hope to see you next spring in West Virginia, on the catwalk or elsewhere!

One Day of Birding in Singapore

I was recently invited to be part of a birding familiarization trip to Papua New Guinea (PNG) sponsored by The PNG Tourism Board. I had turned down the original invitation (with a great deal of disappointment) because I had a few prior commitments during the three weeks of the fam trip. However, when most of these scheduling conflicts magically evaporated, I crossed my fingers and inquired about space. Glory be! I got back on the trip and began immediate preparations for it.

The only catch was that the participants had to get themselves to Singapore's Changi Airport for the start of the trip. Not only was this logistically hard, it was a tad expensive and a major time eater. (Am I whining now? Please tell me if I start to whine). In order to be at Changi for the 9:30 pm flight on September 23 from Singapore to Port Moresby, PNG (on Air Niugini—note cool spelling), I had to leave Ohio on the afternoon of September 21. It was a long haul, but I made it (thanks in no small part to an entire season of "The Office" which I watched on my iPad, laughing so heartily that I got shushed by a flight attendant).

I arrived in Singapore at 3 am on September 23, slept a few hours, showered, and decided to see about doing some birding since I had a whole day to wait. I'd made previous plans to meet two of the other guys on the trip for a few hours of Singapore birding, but the logistics 'debbils' worked against us and we missed connections. I left my hotel in a taxi, bound for the Jurong Bird Park on the other end of town.

I can hear you asking: Why a bird park? Aren't all the birds in cages at a bird park?

Why yes, many birds ARE in cages in a bird park. But good habitat in places like parks and zoos often also attracts wild birds, and this was my hope. Furthermore, there would be captive examples of birds I hoped to see in PNG, so I could view them as a living field guide of sorts.

Aside: I should mention here that I undertook this trip to PNG without access to a field guide to the birds of PNG. The current PNG field guide has been out of print for so long that used copies are selling on Amazon for many hundreds of dollars. Thus, the bird park was going to have to serve as my preparation for the birds I might see.

Stepping out of the cool taxi into the close, humid air of the bird park, I could hear wild bird calls mixing with the cries of bird park captives. I paid my entry fee and walked into the park. Scores of tourists thronged around the entrance and food court, paying to have their photos taken with captive scarlet macaws. Many of the park visitors turned to look at me. I initially thought it was because I was at least a foot taller than anyone else. Now I realize it may have been due to the fact that I was chewing on a piece of chewing gum—which, apparently, is against the law in Singapore.

Blissfully ignorant of the local mastication laws, I walked into a dark building and added the first two species to my Singapore bird list: snowy owl and great gray owl.
Wait, what?

Yes, these were the first two species I actually saw well enough to identify in Singapore. I also felt really sorry for them, being so far from home.

Finding my way outside the "Owls of the World" exhibit, I began to encounter actual wild birds. Tiny flitting sprites danced through the treetops. I had binoculars but no field guide, so I took notes of the field marks hoping for later access to an identification resource. I recognized a bulbul, two mynas, a ladder-backed, brownish woodpecker, a small dark heron, a night-heron of some kind, a fork-tailed dark swallow, some large white storks, a common sandpiper, a dark-brown teal-like duck, a wood rail of some kind... and then I saw my first HOLY MACKEREL (though my wording may have been slightly different) bird of the trip: a huge lemon-yellow bird with a coral bill and a black mask.

I snapped a photo of the bird with my Canon G11 digital camera. I thought it had to be a kookaburra or kingfisher of some kind. Whatever it was it was HUGE and bright. It felt like the birding portion of the trip had finally begun.

I moved on through the park, seeking out captive representatives of some of the bird species I hoped to see in Papua New Guinea.
The Victoria crowned pigeon was one of the endemic PNG species targeted for our trip. Big as a turkey but a million times more beautiful these birds caused me to stop and stare outside their enclosure. The wonders of evolution...

Next I sought out the birds of paradise. If there is one family of birds that is identified with Papua New Guinea it's the birds of paradise. Most of the 40 species (divided into 12 genera) of BOP are found in PNG. Our trip would be focusing on seeing as many BOPs as possible, so I wanted to drop an eyeball on a few of these creatures to get a sense of their size, shape, and color. The only ones showing well were a gang of lesser birds-of-paradise. I watched a male dance across a feeding tray, trying to impress two rather bored-looking females.

Another male joined in. Like many caged animals, these birds looked slightly ragged and their behavior seemed overly repetitive. I quickly moved away, saying a quiet incantation that I'd get to see the real thing in a few days.

Next came a stupendous creature: a cassowary. Huge and weird are the first two words that leap to mind when viewing a cassowary. The bird park had several captive cassowaries roaming around inside a large, open air enclosure. Everywhere you look on a cassowary, there is something amazing to see from the horn on top of the head, to the bluish skin on the neck, the huge eyes, the neck pouch, the hairlike feathers on the body, and the large and powerful legs with clawed feet.

I stood and admired the cassowary, again, hoping I'd see one in the wild soon.

I wandered back to the park's entrance and stopped in a gift shop to purchase a laminated guide to common city and garden birds of Singapore. Using this handy guide, I ID'd many of my mystery birds from my visual memory and my scribbled notes. Here are some of the species I was able to nail down: yellow-vented bulbul, spotted dove, Pacific swallow, Sunda pygmy woodpecker, white-fronted wood rail, black-naped oriole (my holy mackerel bird!), yellow-billed stork (see top of this page), Javan myna, common myna, Asian glossy starling, yellow-rumped flycatcher, and Eurasian tree sparrow. Plus my old familiars: black-crowned night-heron and cattle egret. There were a bunch of small, olive-drab birds that went unidentified.

And then it was time to head back to the airport hotel to prepare for the flight to Port Moresby, PNG. On my way out of the bird park, a sign caused me to do a double take. Can you see what's wrong with this picture?



Back at the Changi Airport I met up with our entire group—some of whom were old friends—and we settled in to wait for the flight, which would be overnight, with a stop in Malaysia. Sadly it was the middle of the night when we stopped there, otherwise I might have added snowy owl and great gray owl to my Malaysia bird list, too!

Zipline Birding in West Virginia

Our group was put through our paces in ground school before we took the first zipline.

What IS a zipline? A zipline, typically, is a set of metal cables stretched between two platforms, one higher, one lower along which a person rolls on pulleys, suspended from a set of safety harnesses. Many bird watchers have encountered ziplines in the tropics, where canopy walkways and towers often have this extra feature for those inclined to thrill seeking.

There's a new zipline near Fayetteville, West Virginia, on property owned by Class VI, a New River rafting and adventure company. A handful of the trip leaders from the New River Birding & Nature Festival were invited to sample the new zipline one afternoon during the festival. Called TreeTops Canopy Tours, the zipline operated by Class VI is an amazing experience. Our primary guide was none other than Tiny Elliott, former rafting guide and regular birding guide for the New River Birding & Nature Festival for many years.

We arrived at the patio of Smokey's on the Gorge, the main restaurant of Class VI, and were geared up in our harnesses by Tiny and Shaun, another TreeTops guide. From there we vanned over to the start of the canopy tour course for ground school. In ground school the guides instructed us in everything we'd need to know and do to have an enjoyable and safe zipline experience. Our harness pulleys were hooked up to the twin zipline cables and we took a short run between two tree stumps, just a few feet off the ground. We learned how to speed up and slow down while moving along the cables. We learned how to stop ourselves. And we learned how to self-rescue in case we got stranded in the middle of a zipline run. Self-rescuing was reasonably easy—you just lean back and pull yourself, hand over hand to the nearest zipline platform. We were required to demonstrate all of these capabilities and skills before we were allowed onto the main part of the course.

Perhaps most importantly, we were instructed how to minimize discomfort in our harnesses, which, when holding up our bodies, put large amounts of pressure in certain unusual places. The guides told everyone—males and females—to try to "keep all of your furniture in the same room" for reasons of comfort and health. Believe me, if some of your furniture sneaked into another room before you "zipped" you knew it and wanted to get it moved back right away.

Jim McCormac in safety gear.

The first zip was a short one and not very fast—down the hill into the river valley. When my turn came, I stepped onto the stump next to the lines to be hooked up. My heart was pounding and I admit to having some butterflies. After the initial moment of adrenaline, I was quickly overtaken by the feeling of how incredibly cool it was to be "flying" through the forest. I'd seen three of my large fellow "zippers" go down the line ahead of me, so I knew the lines would not break. Still, it's a bit disconcerting to have nothing below your feet but blurry hemlocks and oaks.

That's me, Bill of the Birds, in my Devo-approved safety helmet.

Tiny Elliott, our lead guide, was our ground school drillmaster. Hey Tiny: "Ta-Daaa!"

Geoff Heeter, not Bob the Builder. Leather gloves are needed for speed management while zipping. And for coolness.

After the second and third zips, we all got much more comfortable and started video-taping the runs of others from the platforms. We also noticed that we were high in the hemlocks, getting a true bird's-eye view of the landscape. I was amazed at the diversity of plantlife living on the top sides of the hemlock branches. No wonder these woods were so full of birds! This was not something I had ever noticed from the ground, looking up at warblers in these mountain forests.

Trusting my safety gear, high above the forest floor.

The course had been designed very sensitively to minimize impact on the forest, especially the native eastern hemlocks, which are being decimated by a non-native pest, the hemlock woolly adelgid. One of the goals of the owners and designers of this canopy tour zipline course is to keep the surrounding forest healthy. Thus, ziplines were plotted so as to minimize the removal of trees and branches. Platforms are built with minimum bolts or screws drilled into trees. Cables around trees are supported by block-stabilizers to protect the bark and trunk. An arborist will make regular inspections of the entire course to monitor the health of the trees being used. I was impressed at how much of the forest seemed untouched considering that the course was only just nearing completion.

The foliage was still thin enough on the trees that we could see several platforms on the course at once.

People on the ziplines are encouraged to have fun but discouraged from making lots of noise. Nothing will clear out the forest creatures faster, or diminish the natural beauty faster than a bunch of screaming thrill-seekers. Time will tell if this course will settle in as a feature of the landscape, or will become more like a ski-lift, with an alley of nature-free clearance for its riders.

Bird's-eye view of Mill Creek far below us. A Swainson's warbler was singing as I took this photo.

I felt a few screams of joy well up in my chest as I rode the zips. And on the platforms we encountered close-up songbirds, poking their ways through the tree tops. A female Blackburnian warbler passed within eight feet of us at one point, gathering nesting material. I was sorry that I was not allowed to bring binoculars along on this initial run. I missed easy looks at Swainson's warbler and northern parula from two different platforms. Tiny thinks compact binocs may be OK if they can be secured by a harness strap. Before we started this adventure we were encouraged to leave ALL valuables behind. Finding anything that fell off the zipline would be impossible.

Sky bridge across Mill Creek.

In the middle of the zipline course there are several rope and board bridges that we walked across to get to the next zip. They were surprisingly stable and gave us a chance to soak in the beauty of the forest and the plants and birds around us. We smelled the sweet flowers of a Fraser magnolia and heard the flat chip notes of a Swainson's warbler. It was a literal and spiritual high to be moving, as we were, through the top of the forest, looking down instead of up.

Prepping for the next-to-last zip.

Standing on the tree platform frame with Mill Creek 85 feet below.

As we neared the end of the tour, several of us got more daring, letting our harnesses and safety lines do their work as we leaned out over the edge of the wall-less tree platforms. I should stress again, that at no point during the tour were we not hooked by our safety lines to a secure anchor. It's nearly physically impossible to fall and our guides were particularly focused on keeping our group both safe and relaxed.

At each platform the guides kept us hooked up to the safety lines while we waited our turn to zip.

I could write about this zipline adventure for hours more, but think I'll share a couple of videos instead. These are two of my fellow "zippers", Geoff Heeter (one of the New River Birding & Nature Festival founders and owner of Opossum Creek Retreat where many of the festival events are held) and Jim McCormac of the Ohio Ornithological Society, whom some of you may know as the good-natured target of many of my online and offline jokes.

I understand there are plans to try to incorporate a TreeTops Canopy Birding Tour into next year's New River Birding & Nature Festival. If that happens, I'll be the first in line to gear up and zip it!