In a recent physical and mental challenge, Peter combined his love of trail running and bird watching to create the Birdarathon – a 42km trail run featuring binoculars and ample stops for bird spotting.

 

Years ago, I was into bird watching. Really into it. I had all the field guides, several pairs of binoculars, wore brown and khaki clothes, and even had the complete CD collection of Australian Bird Sounds. Weekends were spent in the bush at dawn, often with some very knowledgeable birding seniors whose homemade mid-morning lamingtons and Thermos tea had as much appeal as the birds.

Read more: Bird Nerd Checklist: Are You One of Us?

Then something unforeseen happened; something that took me away from birds. In the spring of 2017, I took up trail running.

My Scarpa boots were replaced by Salomon Speedcross trail shoes; and my waistline thinned as the beloved lamingtons fell from my diet.

Birds became background noise to weekend mornings tearing up the trails.

Recently though, I’ve re-discovered life at a slower pace. I still really enjoy running, after all, it’s a great way to move through the bush quickly and explore remote places efficiently. But I’ve become more meditative about my time outdoors. My binoculars have come down off the shelf and I’ve started looking at birds again.

One day an idea struck me – why not blend bird watching and trail running? I’d been getting a bit bored with running anyway, and usually when that happens I like to increase the fun factor. Birdwatching would be a great way of gamifying a long run and adding a bit of playfulness to it.

And with that, the Birdarathon was born.

 

 

The night before my self-scheduled Birdarathon, I scrolled Google Earth. I wanted somewhere with good native bush, likely to have plenty of birds, but I also needed some runnable sections. I settled on a long Travelling Stock Route (TSR) with intact native woodland and a relatively open understory.

I plotted a 42km-ish course through the TSR and onto a dirt road through farmland, then turned out the light, excited for the 4am alarm.

Honey, Wake Up! It’s Time to Watch Birds While Running a Marathon

My shoes kicked up pale dust, which caught the angled sunbeams streaking through the ironbarks. I started running just after dawn – binoculars in one hand, pen and paper in the other. Birdsong filled the air.

‘Peep peep, peep peep.’ A raucous ‘ya-kyow, ya-kyow’, then a descending ‘k-cht-k-cht-k-cht’. Everything was happening all at once. I stopped to write down the birds: Peewee, Noisy friarbird, Willie Wagtail. The Birdarathon had begun!

Read more: Why Birdwatching Will Improve Your Next Adventure & How To Get Started

Birds flitted across the road, some too high and fast for an ID, others betraying themselves with their characteristic loping flight or distinctive silhouette. Many I could identify by their song. Others I had to stop for, raising the binoculars and hoping for a clear view. Honeyeaters seldom stay still for long when the eucalypts are flowering, and I missed one while I fumbled with the focus and tried to calm my breathing. A small flock of Musk lorikeets screeched as they sped through the sky towards a large ironbark.

 

 

Five minutes later, a flash of red flew across the road and landed on a log. My Novablasts skidded to a halt and I raised the binos. Fantastic! Two Diamond firetails. White spots on black sides, like diamonds in the sky (to paraphrase the song), and bright red rump above the tail.

Overseas visitors marvel at our wonderful collection of parrots, but Australian finches are among the most beautiful in the world! I concentrated my gaze through the lenses at one of my favourite birds.

If mindfulness is a heightened state of awareness in the present moment, then these few seconds were it for me. Attention completely focussed, like sunbeams through a magnifying glass, on a special pair of finches.

Too quickly, they were gone. Better things to do than entertain this bozo, I suppose.

The road turned into a track, then veered left and disappeared just before crossing a beautiful stretch of the Gwydir River. Sand-bars spanned the glowing shin-deep water, and bars of bedrock rose out of the shallows.

 

 

I picked up Grey teal and Pacific black duck downstream against the edge. I’d hoped for a few more common species. Coot, Wood duck, Swamphen, Moorhen? But none of those appeared so I scrambled up the bank and moved on, scoring a magnificent dollarbird looping between the grey limbs of a long-dead eucalypt. Without a clear track, I resorted to kangaroo trails for the next few kilometres.

Birds v Kilometres

A Birdarathon isn’t really a run. It’s more like, jog for a few minutes, stop to look at birds, run a bit, stop, spend a few minutes stalking a rustle in some high leaves, run a bit, backtrack to find your dropped bird list, then keep going. Lots of stopping and starting. This can be a good way to break up a marathon if you’re a bit out of condition, but with all the stopping, 42km was going to take all day! Perhaps I could get a few owls on my list?

The first three hours were a bliss of birdsong and colour, but I’d only covered 17km. Bird activity generally slows as the day warms, so I saw fewer new species once the sun was a bit higher. The next part was along a gravel road, meaning I could pick up the pace a bit. The road was lined with a narrow ribbon of bushland – a corridor between cattle paddocks. It wasn’t the best bird habitat, but better than none. With those changes, I shifted my priority from birds to kilometres and moved steadily along the road.

Two hours later, with only a few more species on the list, I hit bitumen. 10km to go. There’d been no new birds for a while, and the only birds I was expecting would be big and obvious. I stowed the binoculars in my running vest, relieved now to have at least one empty hand.

Beside the road, black cattle crowded into the sparse shade of scattered paddock trees. Two large red-green parrots flew slowly between the trees. Red-winged parrots! Even relatively unforested habitats can yield spectacular birds. I admired them while on the move, not wanting to stop. The heat had brought out the flies and a growing cloud followed me, landing on my face and arms if I ceased moving for more than ten seconds.

 

 

Finally, after nearly 6.5 hours, and with only a few drops of water left, I made it back to the car. I’d passed a small dam a few kilometres back, and added Little black cormorant, White-necked heron, and Fairy martin. Then, just before the last turn-off, I heard a whir of wings to my right and looked up to see a Crested pigeon land on a branch. The last bird.

I finished the run with 44km on the legs and 57 species on my now-grubby piece of paper.

Not bad, but I couldn’t help feeling disappointed at not seeing more. It’d been such a great start! There were a few I missed because I was slow at getting the binoculars up, and because some of the calls were just on the edge of memory. But overall, it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience.

 

Here’s Cheers to Combining Two Passions

Even though the Birdarathon was one of my slowest marathons ever, it was one of my most enjoyable.

The slower pace, the heightened awareness, the focussed attention to sight and sound, and the joy at spotting a new species, provided the little thrills that combine for an unforgettable run.

If you’re already a bird watcher, running between bird rich areas can be a way of fast-forwarding the boring bits. Give yourself a stopping time, say five minutes, and if you don’t see any new birds, get running.

 

 

To anyone interested in giving it a try, you don’t need much to start – just a pen, some paper, and a bird app on your phone. Good bird apps for Australia include Morcombe and Stewart ($30), Pizzey and Knight ($50), and Birdly (free, though a subscription is needed for calls and other info).

Binoculars help, but aren’t essential and you need to work out whether it’s worth carrying them for the duration of the run. Make sure they’re light, robust, and at least 8×42.

Read more: Best Birdwatching Binoculars in Australia

Who knows? If this Birdarathon thing takes off, maybe the good people at Gu or Maurten will invent a lamington and tea flavoured gel!

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