Season 3, Episode 6: On the Road, Again

It was the perfect way to begin The Big Year Podcast On the Road, Again, with discovery of a very rare bird, right here in my backyard, near Cambridge, Ontario.  A young birder by the name of Nathan Hood found a Spotted Redshank, a rare visitor lost on its way back from Eurasia.  Almost every birder I know in Ontario, from within 2 to 3 hours drive, has shown up to see this amazing rarity. 

It’s September 1, 2025 and I t's hard to believe summer's nearly over and that fall migration is really underway.  It certainly got started in a big way with this Spotted Redshank.  While I was there, I talked to a couple of birders, including Nathan Hood, who found the bird and a local Waterloo birder who lives close by.  He told me he’s not a chaser but couldn't pass up seeing an incredible rarity, so close to home.  This is only the third or forth sighting of this bird in Ontario.  It was also a big deal for those birders doing doing Big years, including Ellen and Jerry Horak doing their Canada Big Year and Jude Szabo, on his Ontario Big Year.  They were there early in the morning, long before I arrived. 

I was glad to have made it by late morning and get to see, photograph, record videos, and talk about this amazing bird with many of my birder friends. 

But, before we head back out on the road, just a quick update on me.  And no, it’s not about the bloody Wilson’s Warbler.  I finally saw a juvenile at the Long Point Field Station on August 29, so we can finally put that one to rest.  However, about a week ago I was set upon by an angry, vicious mob of… Yellowjacket Wasps. These wasps are a predatory social species of wasps, recognized by their small size and black and yellow striped abdomen and painful venomous sting.

The morning began, innocently enough.  Our neighbors were replacing their fence and Sue asked me to remove a birdhouse before the workers tore it down.  I trotted out with a screwdriver bit on my drill and proceeded to take the retched old bird house off the fence.  As I removed the second screw, the birdhouse fell to the ground.  What I didn’t know was that instead of birds nesting in the house, it had become a Yellowjacket home.  They were not happy.  When I reached down to pick up the old bird house the enraged wasps attacked me.  I began yelping for help as my hands were repeatedly stung.  Wasps, unlike bees do not leave their barbed stinger in your skin, so they can sting you multiple times.  Once the first wasp stings you it releases a pheromone, alerting other wasps to engage in the attack. 

I tried to run away from them, screaming, “Why are they after me?” as Sue tried to calm me, but I was, as the old saying goes, “running around like a chicken with its head cut off.”  Now the wasps were stinging my ankles through my socks as I was desperately trying to swat them off.  I probably got a bonus sting on my hand from that maneuver.  Finally, the wasps had made their point and went back to regroup with the others and find a new base of operations from which to strike.  I quickly took two Benadryl, and lay down, hoping that would work and I’d be better in a few hours.  No such luck.  Fifteen  years ago, I was bit by an ant in Florida and went into anaphylactic shock.  When returned home my doctor prescribed an EpiPen.  I’ve had to carry it with me at all times since then, getting a new one every 18 months or so.  And I had never needed to use it.  

Many people, over time, forget to get fresh EpiPens or just figure if they haven’t needed it in a decade, why bother with the expense.  My wasp attack is why.  Around 15 minutes after the battle ended, I started to feel swelling in my mouth.  Not good!  My throat felt like I had just eaten a big spoonful of peanut butter.  I reported my condition to Sue and she rightly said, “That’s not good.”  It was time.  

I was getting pretty agitated, as was the case first time this happened.  I warned Sue I was going to be a bit crazy.  Well, relative to how crazy I normally am.  I sent Sue to grab my EpiPen and she handed it to me.  I held it near my leg and froze.  I gently as possible told Sue she had better do it.  She did it.  After a sharp sting, no worse than anything the wasps did to me, the magical elixir began pumping through my veins and Sue went off to call the ambulance, with me chattering at her, impatiently from the other room.

The fire department arrived first, followed by the paramedics.  They shot me full of Benadryl and off we went to Brantford General Hospital. After a brief assessment, I was brought quickly into a treatment room, since they would rather I not suffocate in their triage department in front of multiple witnesses.  I was taken care of by a very nice nurse, whom I assume worked their way through college waiting tables at Red Lobster, since every time I answered a question, they responded with “perfect,” as though I had picked the chef’s favorite dish from the menu.  After a do