The Elk and The Quail - Discovering Wildlife in Point Reyes

The Quail - colorful, quirky and quintessentially Californian. My personal favorite bird and mascot of Birding About The Bay has captivated me since moving to the West Coast. Though I never intentionally set out to find them, I always hope for a chance encounter when out and about. Usually these are fleeting or distance - two ovals cluck and whizz through the undergrowth, a lone quail a silhouette on a pole miles away. These brief, infrequent glimpses add to the mystique and allure I feel towards them.

Jump forward to a trip to Point Reyes. I journeyed in hopes of seeing an Elk for the first time. Having watched countless videos of giant males with big racks, bugling away, but never having lived in an area with them nearby, I was particularly excited to see a bull. I was braced for disappointment. Whenever I've set out to intentionally find a bird I end up empty handed. This pre-experience of deflation was short lived. The drive in through the winding roads to Tule Point provided ample ground and fences for hawks to perch up and pose on the roadside. At least if I struck out on mammals I have a few bird sightings to fall back on.

Rolling onwards towards the North of the point, a mass of brown shapes swept across the farm land, one large male caroling a group of cows. A photographer, already wise to the animals, stood in the middle of the road, locked in to the scene. The herd swept down the hill to intersect the road. One by one, they emerged in the brush in front of me and dove across single file all of 10ft away. I scrambled to take some shots, but my camera (or I - let's not play the blame game) missed focus, producing a glorious blur of rack and mane before they moved on. Perhaps with enough confidence I could pass this off as intentionally artsy? Even if I could I was mighty disappointed, and presumed this would be the closest I would get. In an eyeore like cloud of melancholy I continued on dismayed about my close encounter.

The long drive through the winding roads eventually culminated in an old dairy yard with ocean flanking both sides of the Point Reyes spit. The trail led out toward one of these flanks and back along the finger of the Point, mirroring the Sonoma coastline that roared and gurgled at the bottom of the wind swept rugged slopes. A hanging fog shrouded the far distance, leading to a sense of anticipation as to what wildlife would reveal itself next from this cloudy curtain. Away from the trail head the mass of wash and brush presented the perfect ground for numerous coyotes to roam through - bouncing merrily as they sifted through the grasses for something to chew on.

After a couple of miles I reached a valley section, where at the crest of the next hill were the silhouettes of three motionless Elk. Presumably cut-outs for an informational exhibit showing there scale and appearance. I imagined the real thing would have no reason to stand idly by in a place so close to the trail. I continued across the valley. So confident was I that they were fake I stopped to observe another lone coyote cruising about the scrubland. The pseudo Elk remained where they were, as they should for inanimate objects. I crested the hill. Got closer. And they turned out to be the real thing! Three cows hanging out licking themselves. Amazing! In retrospect, it seems obvious that an educational exhibit wouldn't be 2.5miles into a one way trail, at the top of a hill away from any roads. At the time that seemed more likely than real living and breathing Elk calmly sat waiting for me. A couple of cows lumped lazily on the grass, enjoying the time in the sea breeze, whilst another stood on much too thin legs for her frame and stared wistfully out to sea. They were so non-plused by me that I had time to get low, pay attention to those backgrounds, and generally ass about with camera settings. The light was not so great, but the spectacle certainly was - I felt relieved that my previous focus situation was partially made up for. All that was missing was that bull.

I couldn't help notice a steady stream of people glide past after not more than a cursory glance at the cows. I suspected they knew something I didn't...so wandered on along the trail in the direction they were headed. At the bottom of another valley a little further on was where the action was really at. A group of 20 or so bull elk, huddled about a watering pond. As I excitedly steamed down to meet them, a large shape, like a 500lb sack of potatoes, crashed about 15ft from the trail. The dense scrub mostly obscure any details, but his enormous head piece that peeked up above the shrubbery was the give away. A whiff of concern crossed my mind - how many other large mammals could be obscured so close to the trail? No time to waste, there are 20 in plain view at the bottom. Down in the thick of it, I sat in the bushes to observe. Spoilt for choice, I observed the males doing Elk things, lazily resting on the grass, drinking from the pond and occasionally butting heads after being irritated by their neighbor. There huge antlers certainly did not disappoint in person, especially when my frame of reference are the white-tailed deer of the East cost. One even contributed to maintaining the local Californian ecosystem by munching on invasive radish!

Having taken in the scene enough and depleted my Elk battery, I began to head back as more and more people came to the pond. As I started, I saw a lady peer intently at a bush before moving on. I looked and there sat a round, plump form with a top knot…or two…a Quail! It was time for action stations, as I pulled out my camera, and began to weigh up the situation before he decided to disappear. Edging ever closer to his perch, I eventually ended up partially in a bush to get a good angle. This little Quail seemed perfectly happy to pose and sit where he was, as his brood occasionally clucked beneath the brush. This allowed another opportunity to play with the angles, and even frame an Elk in the background! Other hikers poured past, seemingly much more interested in the deer action than a little Quail in a bush. That being said a herd of 20 Elk was certainly enough to excite me!

I couldn't help notice the contrast between these two encounters on my way drive out of Point Reyes. The Elk, where I sought and found them with deliberate intent, and did first time, and the Quail, a pleasant surprise who is always hoped for but never actively pursued. I suppose there is a "its about the process not the result" message convolved in here somewhere, though I would be lying if I said I didn't very much enjoy finding the Elk and having my expectations met the first time of asking. On this occasion at least, I got to have the best of both experiences.