17 January 2019: The Emotional Roller Coaster of Twitching a Mega

It started in Wakkerstroom. Just a niggle, then a bit of a wiggle. It then developed into a full-blown itch – this twitch that would not go away…

The reason for my itch was a Golden Pipit found at Mavela Lodge in Mkuze; a very seldom seen vagrant to South Africa.

So I told myself to focus. That I will see many Golden Pipits in East & Central Africa during the year. I tried to convince myself that finding a Ground Woodpecker in Wakkerstroom is much more important than a Golden Pipit in Mkuze. But an inner voice argued that I am the Vagrant Twitcher, and that this is an absolute mega vagrant for any Southern Africa list. So I capitulated. I failed to focus. I scratched the itch. I am weak. Three ‘o clock that afternoon I dipped the Ground Woodpecker and raced to Mkuze. It has become a craving - this itch to twitch!

Arrived at Mavela Lodge just as the sun touched the acacias, and had to pay a conservation fee of R150 at the gate of the conservancy, worth about 30 minutes of daylight. Theo, the local guide, told me the bird had last been seen about three hours ago. Then the wind came up, and a light drizzle. Pipits don’t like wind. Twitchers don’t like rain. So I dipped. Again…

The Baobab Bar, about halfway to Hluhluwe, was as good a place as any to drown my sorrows and celebrate my inability to twitch a mega. Charles Glass reminded me of all the other birds I should have twitched. I ended up sleeping in the parking lot, next to a generator that didn’t bother me at all.

But twitchers are made of sterner stuff. Woke up in the rain, packed up my camper and headed back to Mavela Lodge, the small hammer in my head spelling d-i-p-p-e-r with every corrugation on the road. Another R150 later I again started searching, praying, getting wet, cursing. Some other birders arrived so we had more eyes on the ground, and in the trees. But my itch turned into a rash from all the scratching. After about four hours I realised that there was no gold to be found it that bush, so with a heavy heart I left to marvel at mossies in St Lucia.

About 10 km later my cell rang and Theo, the guide, informed me that he had just found the pipit. A sharp U-turn followed, some low flying was initiated, and soon I was greeted by the other birders with smiles that were only stopped by their bino straps at the back of their necks. But the Golden Pipit had flown – into the bush – with the very, very last of my hopes and dreams. Theo took pity on me and off we headed into Big Five country, on foot, armed with hope, binos, and long lenses.

So it turned midday, still a slight drizzle, I swear I saw some mad dogs and Englishmen, but no Golden Pipit. Rejected by the avian gods we returned to the lodge. Birds have wings- will fly – I reminded myself. It did not make me feel any better.

Then, just before the lodge, in some ankle-high grass, there was a sudden yellow flutter, and what looked like the most beautiful bird in the world flew out into a nearby tree. The Golden Pipit in all its magnificent, golden glory! This turned out to be a golden day in Africa, after all.

Golden Pipit, Mavela Lodge, Mkuze