Misty Mountain, Tai Mo Shan, Hong Kong.

I had arranged to meet with Bell Wong this morning. Tai Mo Shan was covered in cloud. If I had been asked for a literal translation of the name of the mountain, I might have suggested, “high land of unhelpful taxi-driver,” as ours had refused to drive us up the slope because he felt that the thick mist was too dangerous on a steep windy road. I shouldn’t have been surprised to find from Bell that its Chinese name actually means, “Big Foggy Mountain.”

It is a vertical rise of 230m from the car park at the bottom of Tai Mo Shan Road to the control barrier at almost 700m above sea-level. It doesn’t sound like too much of a hardship until the heat and humidity are factored in. Bell looked worried. He had already expressed surprise at how tightly my birding silks fitted, even with the elasticated waistband, now he made enquiries about my blood pressure and heart. At least I was sober today.

Visibility only improved as we were leaving the mountain

There was very little to see, but we climbed in the hope that the wind and the sun would combine to drive the cloud away and allow us to look for some red crayon birds. I had missed some on my last trip that I wanted to have another look for. The mist veiled our sight and although the bird sounds were subdued, we were able to recognise a few. A Chinese, or Light-vented Bulbul was our constant companion somewhere out to the right and Bell reminded me that the song I had been hearing all of the previous day, a teasing refrain to the tempo of  “you’ve got a hangover,” was from the Yellow-bellied Prinia.

A rising note with an emphatic finish, reminiscent of a stuttering, Australian, Eastern Whipbird, caught my interest. I had heard it last time but dipped on actually seeing the bird which I had suspected at the time to be the Brownish-flanked(Mountain) Bush Warbler. It remained elusive for the moment. A few gaps were appearing in the mist as we heard the call of the Chinese Francolin, “come to the Peak, ha ha!” We slowly stalked further up the road and rounded a bush as a clear patch revealed a male bird crowing from a boulder. I snatched a quick shot before he darted down into the brush of the mountainside. He kept calling however and drew responses from at least two other birds in the vicinity.

 Just before the first of the big switchbacks, a stepped path leads off to the right, south. The end of this path would have afforded us a tremendous view of the city in other circumstances, but we were distracted by another calling francolin. This one was hidden by the mist, but after a short while, the fog cleared enough to reveal another male singing proudly from a rock. We listened to this one for a while and I must say that the interpretation of its call is a very locally convenient one. Anywhere that does not have a tourist attraction called Victoria Peak would probably have stuck with a very farmyard-like “cock-a-doodle-doo.”

We climbed a little further up, but the bird was easily spooked. As the other francolin had returned to his rock as soon as we left, we hoped that if we sat quietly, this one would do the same. We gave it plenty of room, but it did not come back. A thrush (?) sat out on a rock, possibly hoping to get a view over the city, but was probably as frustrated as we were in not being able to identify him.

The bush warbler was still calling as we began our descent. One was very near to the road and its call is very loud as if from a large bird. A Black-throated Laughing Thrush appeared from the same bush as the warbler and I thought that I may have misdiagnosed the call. But the warbler was still in the roadside bush and I eventually resorted to playing back his own song from my digital recorder. The warbler flew out, over our heads and into the trees on the other side of the road. He continued singing and gave a couple of passes before I ticked him and left him to his huge song.

There had been no sign of the Upland Pipit which had been the third target bird for the day. Still, two out of three ain’t bad. But wait, what’s this? A long slim bird with a streaming tail flew down from above us and disappeared into the fog. It was a Blue Magpie and softened the blow of dipping on the pipit again.

Tai Mo Shan gave one last surprise in the form of an eagle soaring past a gap in the cloud. I wasn’t able to get any detail before it disappeared into the mist again but if my arm was twisted, I might guess at an Imperial Eagle.

Thank you to Bell for his company, his concern and for remembering to bring the water. There is a toilet block at the car park  by the entrance and a small kiosk that has a limited selection of drinks and snacks. Beyond this, there are no facilities on the mountain. If you want it, bring it.

Species seen; 11

Chinese Francolin 2, House Swift 4, Red-whiskered Bulbul 10, Light-vented Bulbul 25, Oriental Magpie Robin 1, Brownish-flanked Bush Warbler 1, Black-throated Laughing Thrush 1, Japanese White-eye 1, Blue Magpie 1, Large-billed Crow 2.

For previous, posts about Tai Mo Shan and the surrounding area, directions there and for other trip reports for Hong Kong, consult the dedicated Asia Page which also includes Bangkok and Singapore.

Tai Mo Shan, Hong Kong,

Dipping in Hong Kong

At the top of Tai Mo Shan mountain, approximately 3000 feet above sea-level, are 2 football-like receiving/transmitting installations. The spheres (for they are shaped like proper footballs) are visible from most places in Hong Kong as they are sited at the highest point of the former British colony.

Habitat on the mountain includes grazed grass along the roadside, longer grass on the steeper slopes and stunted, thickly growing bamboo. Scrub on the lower and mid levels thins out to a boulder strewn hillside as the summit is reached, but clings on in damp gullies.

The view from the summit included Deep Bay to the north with Lantau Island to the west. South was Hong Kong Island and Victoria Peak.

I was here to look for Upland Pipits and other species that prefer higher ground. The pipits in particular like to be above 500m. The turn in to Tai Mo Shan Road at the Country Park is at about 450m asl. I took the lazy option today and the taxi dropped me at the control gate at approx 650m asl.

The first birds I saw were pipits, but these did not have the strongly streaked back and chestnut wings that would distinguish them as Uplands. These had subtle dorsal markings which left me with no alternative but to start my day list with Olive-backed Pipit.

Calls from the thick scrub indicated Mountain Warbler that would have been a tick if any had shown themselves. Similarly obstinate was the Chinese Babax whose “hoot, hoot, hoot” was the only indication that it was present.

The babax are said to be gone from the mountain, but the call was very like the description in the field guide. I looked it up when I got home and could not find a better alternative.

It goes without saying that Black-eared Kites and Large-billed Crows had made it onto the list, but precious little else had. After 2 hours, I made it to the installation at the summit with a grand total of only 5 species which sadly did not include the Upland Pipit. The descent barely doubled my tally with a hovering Kestrel and a Plain Prinia. The best bird was a Blue Rock Thrush conspicuously perched on a boulder. I was hoping that it might be a red tick, but suspected that I had seen it before. Indeed my only other sighting was in Oman in 2000. The blue race in Hong Kong is Monticola solitarius pandoo.

At about 800m asl a path led down to a saddle between the summit and a lesser peak with extensive areas of short grass; good pipit territory I thought. A Black-faced Bunting and an as yet unidentified bird flushed from the scrub. This is what passed for a “hot-spot” today. I want to say Plumbeous Redstart for the mystery bird, but the habitat seemed an unlikely spot for a bird that prefers fast rocky streams.

The MacLehose Trail runs up from the main road (Route Twisk) and meets up with Tai Mo Shan Road at the control gate to complete the climb to the summit together. Be warned that the steps on the trail are steep, uneven and seemingly endless. It is classed as a difficult section of trail and it certainly makes birding tricky if you have to concentrate on where to put your feet. The steps head straight up the mountain without making any attempt to lessen the gradient by using switchbacks. The road is quiet and much more leg-friendly.

While the birding was slow today (end of February), I feel that in a month or so when the birds thoughts turn to finding mates, it will pick up.

To reach Tai Mo Shan, take the MTR to Tsuen Wan at the end of the Red Line. From here, KMB bus no. 51 goes up Route Twisk towards Shek Kong and will stop at the Country Park (Google Earth ref; 22 24' 20"N, 114 06' 19"E). . Tai Mo Shan Road and the MacLehose Trail lead seperately up the mountain from here until they meet at the control gate. While the trail takes a macho, straight up approach, the road uses the contours of the mountain for a much gentler gradient. Make life easy on yourself and take a taxi from the MTR station and double tip the driver to stop him "tutting."
Green minibus no. 80 only goes as far as Cheun Lung.

Species seen; 11

Black-eared Kite 10, Common Kestrel 1, Spotted Dove 3, Olive-backed Pipit 2, Red-whiskered Bulbul 4, Light-vented Bulbul 6, Blue Rock-thrush 1, Plain Prinia 1, Japanese White-eye 4, Large-billed Crow 8, Black-faced Bunting 1.