The Lammergeier. An Epic Twitch 11th July 2020

c Adrian Webb

July is not a month to see rare or unusual birds in Britain but this year has bucked the trend. Having only just returned from Portland Bill in Dorset where I went to see a Yelkouan Shearwater two days earlier, Mark called to tell me about a Lammergeier or Bearded Vulture, to give it its other name, present on the border of Derbyshire and Yorkshire. This is only the second time one has been seen in Britain, the first was on Dartmoor and Bodmin Moor, in the southwest of England in 2016 but it was only present for two weeks and seen by just a very few lucky people, before disappearing forever. If this second individual could be pinned down to a reasonably small geographical area and remained for a while it would undoubtedly provoke a major twitch.

Lammergeiers are vultures that are normally found in southern Europe, Africa, the Indian sub continent and Tibet and usually live in mountains at above 1000 metres. Some have even been found at 24,000 feet on Mount Everest. In Europe they are found in the Pyrenees and have now been successfully re-introduced to The Alps where this immature bird is thought to have come from, although there is no conclusive proof. The presence of this bird in Britain is contentious in that the BOURC (British Ornithologist's Union Records Committee) have deemed it as coming from a population that is not 'in their opinion', so far self sustaining  despite the birds in The Alps now breeding freely in the wild. They are also presuming the bird is from The Alps but do not know for sure as the bird is unringed and has no wing tags. This decision has not gone down well with many birders who sensibly accept the vulture  for what it is, a magnificent bird, free flying and living a normal existence in the wild without human aid or artificial feeding. 

In Europe there are between 600-1000 pairs of Lammergeiers, ranging from Spain, the French and Swiss Alps, Turkey, the Balkans and Russia. It is the rarest vulture in Europe, is listed as endangered and the BOURC have come to their arbitrary decison about its provenance based on the fact there is an ongoing re-introduction scheme of captive bred birds being released back into the wild to support populations in the French and Swiss Alps that have either become extinct or fallen to low numbers due to human pressures and loss of habitat.

Lammergeiers do not breed until around eight years old and immature Lammergeiers normally wander over vast areas of hundreds of square kilometres in their first years of life. Occasionally birds such as this one reach areas far beyond their normal range. Furthermore this bird's presence in Britain is particularly unusual in that it has managed to cross the English Channel as Lammergeiers normally avoid crossing large stretches of water. Presumably, if it survives it will eventually try to find a way of returning to its home range but this will involve re-crossing the English Channel and then navigating all the hazards, both natural and un-natural that it will encounter on the way back to the mountains of southern Europe.

I was well aware of this bird as it had been first reported in late May from Alderney in The Channel Islands and subsequently from Belgium, where it remained until the 26th June. Many British birders secretly harboured faint hopes it might turn up in Britain and to everyone's surprise and delight it did, several days later, when it was seen in England, in the Midlands and then moved further north to the Peak District of Derbyshire. 

We had discussed trying to go and see it but decided that the best course of action would be to wait and see if it could be found roosting. If and when that occured we could, with reasonable confidence see it, by getting to the roost site, if accessible, before dawn the following day and waiting until it left its roost.

That day arrived on Friday 10th July when the vulture was seen going to roost on a rock face in a clough (a ravine) in the Upper Derwent Valley which lies in The Peak District National Park, just within Derbyshire. We agreed to meet at a place called Strine's Bridge at 3am on Saturday morning and from there we would walk for well over an hour up into the wilds of Howden Moors to where the vulture was roosting.The finder of its roost had supplied a map of where to go on social media and it looked relatively simple to follow.

We met Adrian in a pub car park just up the road from Strine's Bridge and along with a number of others set off  down the road to the bridge where we turned off the road, passed through a gate and commenced walking up a very steep hill, following a tarmac track rising towards a gamekeeper's house. 

We had only just passed through the gate when a Nightjar flew across the track above us calling qewick qewick in alarm. Its distinctive silhouette was illuminated against the lightening sky to our right and as I looked up at the sky I was delighted to notice some rare noctilucent clouds, strung like lines on a page across the heavens. 

A Noctilucent Sky

A little further on a roding Woodcock flew over us, making its peculiar pswick pswick call, then another or maybe the same one passed above us a few minutes later. It was still almost dark and our figures were no more than vague shapes as we slowly moved up the steep hill.

At this point I feel the need to express a note of concern about where we found ourselves. Howden Moors are located in an area notorious for raptor persecution and probably one of the worst in Britain despite this being land owned by The National Trust. A grouse moor was to our right, after passing the gamekeeper's house and it is on grouse moors that most of the illegal killing of raptors goes on. I just hope the Lammergeier is not going to be poisoned or shot but it would not surprise me if that were its fate if it hangs around here for too long, as there seems little hope in curbing the disgraceful illegal killing of birds of prey that continues unabated and is undoubtedly sanctioned by the owners of the grouse moors. Over the past eight years more than twenty cases of bird of prey persecution have been recorded across the Peak District involving Peregrines, Common Buzzards and Hen Harriers.  Hopefully the continued presence of birders coming to see the vulture will deter any illegal activity for now but with the grouse shooting season commencing on the 12th August it does not bode well. Derbyshire Wildlife Trust have issued a warning that any illegal attempt to kill the iconic vulture would result in an international outcry. Let's hope that it does not come to that.

Anyway back to my tale.

Once past the gamekeeper's house we headed onwards and upwards while others took another lower track. Eventually we discovered we had gone the wrong way but carried on uphill before detouring to struggle through knee high heather and jump a ditch to regain the correct track. It was then an ever ascending walk uphill, on a stone strewn, uneven track heading for the highest point on the moor which is Back Tor.  Red Grouse were all around us and one showed itself as it sped rapidly downhill calling in alarm at our presence. I could see a flashlight away up on the top of Derwent Edge where a birder had already gained Back Tor. It looked infinitesimaly distant. By now the dawn had properly broken and we could see all too clearly how far we still had to go. Other birders passed us, hurrying along in their anxiety, but I reasoned we had plenty of time as surely no raptor would fly so early in the morning. I was to be proved comprehensively wrong on that score.

Onwards we marched, now following an uneven 'pavement' of limestone flagstones across the moor heading up and along Derwent Edge towards Back Tor. 

We reached the tor and after some indecision about which fork in the track to follow, took the right hand one heading around the tor, as the sun rose above the moor. We were now on a plateau and all around stretched a vast expanse of desolate moorland with just the feeble alarm calls of Meadow Pipits coming to us and the white heads of cotton grass nodding in the wind. Far away and below in the distance lay the city of Sheffield. We were now approximately 530 metres above sea level.

Over an hour had passed since we had first commenced walking. My legs ached but there was no way I was about to give any intimation of my discomfort to my colleagues. The location of the roosting vulture was away to our left but we were making a wide and wearisome detour along Cartledge Stones Ridge to avoid disturbing the vulture at its roost. The quickest route would have been to take the left fork at Back Tor but this had the likely prospect of flushing the vulture from its roost which would defeat the whole reason for us being here.

Back Tor

Some twenty of us walked in single file at a steady but fast pace, following the track as it wound up and down across the moor until eventually we had to leave the track and head off left into uncharted territory, by which I mean trackless moorland, much of it waterlogged and treacherous, my feet slipping into wet holes and my walking boots soon becoming filled with water. It was a physical nightmare but we persisted, forcing ourselves onwards, to descend a steep bank, leap across a small burn at the bottom and then clamber up another muscle taxing slope and continue our route march, stumbling on the uneven terrain, trying to avoid stepping into the wetter parts of the moor. 

Finally we gained a rise and in the distance could see a group of around thirty birders looking from a sunlit slope across a narrow and deep valley to a rock face in the clough opposite.They had to be looking at the roosting Lammergeier!

I needed no further incentive and focused mind and body on getting there as quickly as possible.

The Lammergeier was roosting in the clough opposite, just below the second buttress of rock

It took another thirty minutes of walking hell to reach them, forever lurching into hidden wet holes, tripping over clumps of moss and heather in my haste, trying to find a sheep track through the mire which would give some even footing. Somehow we made it and joined the others. A fellow birder invited me to look through his scope and there and then I saw my first ever Lammergeier, in classic pose, perched on a narrow rock ledge in the clough. A huge, pale, creamy brown coloured bird with a cowl of black feathers over its head and neck. I now knew why so many birders speak in awe of Lammergeiers. 

I took a few brief seconds to take in its black head, pale eye and huge bill and then expressed grateful thanks to my fellow birder for the use of his scope and set about joining everyone else in taking photos of this enormous vulture, possibly the largest bird ever seen in the wild in Britain. 

The Lammergeier continued to perch on the ledge as the sun filtered down the clough and illuminated its plumage, turning it almost white. For half an hour it perched there, the wind ruffling its loose body feathers and blowing the feathers on the back of its head into a dark halo. I checked the time and it was approaching five thirty am. Minutes later it took off. So much for my theory that raptors and vultures do not rise early but wait for thermals to aid their flight. Once the Lammergeier was in the air a Merlin and Kestrel immediately mobbed it, appearing in the sky as if from nowhere.

Kestrel mobbing the Lammergeier

A superb sequence by Adrian of a male Merlin mobbing the Lammergeier

The Lammergeier seemingly had no need of thermals as it spread its immensely broad wings and literally sailed past us with no visible effort or movement of a huge three metre wingspan, gliding down the valley and then rising upwards above the skyline. It was difficult to comprehend exactly how momentous an occasion this was as the giant bird circled around on the wind.The tips of its outer primaries were splayed into separate fingers while many  of its inner tail feathers were missing as, disarmingly  for such a bulky looking bird, it floated effortlessly across the sky.

With hardly a wing flap it rose up and up to soar near Back Tor, giving welcome views to those who had remained on the tor rather than take on the challenge of yomping the extra mile to where we stood. 

Slowly it cruised back in our direction only to drop onto a slope opposite and feed on a sheep carcase. After some minutes it took to the air and came closer, again without any apparent effort, then, circling around, it descended into the clough where it had been roosting and landed on a flat topped pillar of rock and here it remained for virtually the rest of the time we watched it. The Kestrel returned to mob it but soon desisted and the Lammergeier was left in solitary peace on its rock.. 

For the most part it just stood or preened on its lofty perch but then regurgitated what looked like bones and flesh onto the rock and commenced to eat them again. Nice! Reading up about Lammergeiers I have learned that eighty percent of their food consists of bones which they swallow and strong acids in their stomach dissolve the bones which release the rich nutrients in the bone marrow. The name Lammergeier is of German origin and roughly translates as 'lamb eater'. This is misleading and unfortunately has led to their misguided persecution, for they only feed on dead animals such as lamb and sheep carcases and in so doing act as a natural cleanser of the environment. 

I turned away from looking at the vulture to find that most of our fellow birders had departed, leaving about a dozen of us to wait on the slope and see what the Lammergeier would do next. Personally I was content to remain here all day as this hard worked for experience was to be enjoyed for as long as possible.

A fell runner, no more than a matchstick man at such a distance, came along the track on the far side of the valley, the same track we could have taken from Back Tor earlier but with the risk of disturbing the Lammergeier and we speculated how the vulture would react. The track ran right above where the vulture was perched. The Lammergeier took off as the runner was still some distance from its rock. So that confirmed we had made the correct decision to take the huge detour on the other track earlier in the morning. The Lammergeier cruised down the valley and rose up to circle in the sky, heading back towards us. Would it come right past us? Sadly no, as it descended and moved away from us and out of view into the valley below and that was the last I saw of it.

Most of my fellow birders ran up the slope to see if they could see it from the top but  by the time they got there it was very distant and reluctantly everyone accepted that the last hour and a half was the best they were going to get of the Lammergeier today. No one could really complain.

A truly magnificent bird in a totally appropriate setting of wild beauty with the sweeping contours of the fells and moors running away into the distance.

It was now approaching 8am although it seemed much later. An hour and a half walk of just under five miles awaited us before we would reach our cars at Strine's Bridge but we would take it slowly and easily. There was no hurry now.

We had seen the Lammergeier unbelievably well, both perched and in flight and that was all that mattered.

My thanks to Adrian and Mark for the use of some of their images to supplement my own, and their pleasant company as always.


Postscript

The Lammergeir is still present today the 10th August and its presence has certainly caught the public's imagination with hundreds of birders and non birders alike making the long trek to get a glimpse of it either at its roost or soaring over the moors. It has been featured on national radio and in most daily newspapers as well as on local and national TV and so far appears settled and unmolested by those who would do it ill.

The Lammergeier left its favoured area in the Peak District of Derbyshire on 18th September and roosted at Lathkill Dale to the south on 19th  and was then seen on 20th further south at Thornton in Leicestershire and finally over Eynsham, Oxfordshire in the late morning of 21st September. It looks like it is heading back to its home in the mountains of France or Spain and everyone can breathe a sigh of relief that it survived its prolonged stay on what is a notorioulsy dangerous area for any raptor.  It had remained in the Peak District for three months but was now presumably heading back to its home in The Alps or Pyreneees

One can only wish it well as it has so unwittingly provided inspiration and delight to so many people during its unprecedented stay here.