After our unexpected discovery of Hirundo rustica gutturalis west of Chita, we said a sad fairwell to Yulia and put her on a train (she apparently had to work). Then Georgy, Liz, and I headed south to the border with Mongolia. We hoped to find the southern edge of the tytleri range, hoping that pure gutturalis could be found somewhere north of Mongolia. (Reminder: tytleri are dark with long tail feathers called streamers and gutturalis are small and pale, with short streamers) In fact, we found white birds, dark birds, and even a female who was very pale, with long streamers and a full collar, which was clearly a rustica. (This was DEFINITELY unexpected, based on range maps!) We spent 2 days sampling in this area, and on our way back, we managed to catch 29 swallows. Over half of these were at a site we named “Big Show,” where an old man and about 8 of his children (and/or grandchildren?) followed us around, transfixed on our every move, giggling mysteriously or spouting random words and numbers in English. (See this video)
Anyway, once again the delightful unpredictability of Nature has defied our expectations. So, after returning from our two day sojourn to the Mongolian border, we again headed East, past our legendary site "PC," where we caught 42 swallows in one day. We continued on for another 200km, intending to stop and assess phenotypes at about that interval for the remainder of our transect. At about 196km out, we found a molybdenum mining town and the beginnings of a weather system which would stalk us for several days. As might be expected, given our knowledge of barn swallow affinities for molybdenum, we did not find or catch any birds in that town, although the general feel of it made us a bit wary of zombies. Leaving that gray, inexplicable creepiness behind, we began to see fewer and fewer villages, and none of them looking promising in the way of barn swallows. As the rain intensified we also became aware of a certain gauge inching toward a certain capital E and a disturbingly small number of filling stations in the area. Just in time, we found a service station with a combined cafe and hotel. What luck! The cafe turned out to be surprisingly nice inside, with all the gold curtains one could possibly hope for, with some decent pelminis (meat dumplings), although the splintered bone in the pilaf suggested some sort of sheep land-mine salvage. Our room, though smelling strongly of some sort of urethane glue, was more than adequate given the circumstances. The gas station, however, was for the foreseeable future, just a station. The proprietor suggested we try the next one 60km further east.
You've been in Siberia too long when this is normal So the next morning, when the rain let up around 11am, we headed out in search of fuel. Passing through steep, rolling forest land, which occasionally pitched into a leaden blanket of cloudcover, we felt that each hill climb might leave the car sputtering to a stop. Just when we felt sure the car would not make another hill, we happened upon an antiquated pump connected to a huge above-ground reservoir, and coasted up to it on the merest wafting remnants of our empty tank. Whew.
The rest of that day would be spent exploring the 100km or so between the molybdenum/zombie town and the hotel, battling intermittent rain and the feeling that there actually weren't any swallows here. As was often the case in this and other parts of Russia, there seemed to be a low correspondence between the NAVTEQ map on Georgy’s tablet and, say, reality that you could see. With your eyes. For example, at intersections approximately 5km apart, estimates of the distance to Khabarovsk could be 1,984km and 1,642km. Moreover, some villages appearing on the map did not present themselves to our searching eyes. In one case, we drove the 7km distance a road sign indicated to arrive in the area of a village, only to find a thick pine forest showing no clues of human construction apart from the road itself. Pushing on another 2km afforded us a glimpse of what can only be described as more pine trees and a road going through them, ostensibly to nowhere, or possibly a prison. In one other case, we found a turnoff sign, suggesting a town. We followed a nicely paved embankment and approximately 100m of road to the edge of a 2m drop-off to a fallow field. Apparently, they haven’t gotten around to building the town or the rest of the road leading to it yet. Perhaps they got a good deal on signs and decided to work ahead by about 10 years. As a biologist, the only question worth asking, “Why?” has absolutely no business in most aspects of Russian road constructions, hotel management, or cutlery provisions (why is it so bloody hard to get a knife to cut all the meat you Russians eat?!)
Should we be worried about that? The rest of that day would be spent exploring the 100km or so between the molybdenum/zombie town and the hotel, battling intermittent rain and the feeling that there actually weren't any swallows here. As was often the case in this and other parts of Russia, there seemed to be a low correspondence between the NAVTEQ map on Georgy’s tablet and, say, reality that you could see. With your eyes. For example, at intersections approximately 5km apart, estimates of the distance to Khabarovsk could be 1,984km and 1,642km. Moreover, some villages appearing on the map did not present themselves to our searching eyes. In one case, we drove the 7km distance a road sign indicated to arrive in the area of a village, only to find a thick pine forest showing no clues of human construction apart from the road itself. Pushing on another 2km afforded us a glimpse of what can only be described as more pine trees and a road going through them, ostensibly to nowhere, or possibly a prison. In one other case, we found a turnoff sign, suggesting a town. We followed a nicely paved embankment and approximately 100m of road to the edge of a 2m drop-off to a fallow field. Apparently, they haven’t gotten around to building the town or the rest of the road leading to it yet. Perhaps they got a good deal on signs and decided to work ahead by about 10 years. As a biologist, the only question worth asking, “Why?” has absolutely no business in most aspects of Russian road constructions, hotel management, or cutlery provisions (why is it so bloody hard to get a knife to cut all the meat you Russians eat?!)
For one day’s work we were rewarded with fleeting glimpses of only 6-8 adult barn swallows and at least as many fledglings, flying high over fields and being entirely uncatchable. And on top of that they were all rather pale, suggesting that we missed the easternmost edge of the contact zone with tytleri and are now into the are of only tiny, pale, short-streamered gutturalis. Though we would like to go back and sample the zone between our “42” site and the Walking Dead Town, we still had at least 3,000km to go to Vladivostok. Yet, to our surprise, 222km from our hotel, in the village of Mogocha, we found a garage with an interesting population of birds. Of the 8 we caught, most were rather pale or intermediate, and all were very small (~15g, versus 17-25g seen among other populations). And one individual was totally dark like a typical tytleri, but again, very small, with short streamers like gutturalis. The mysteries of these subspecies distributions continue to elude us. But when we sequence thousands of segments of DNA for each of these individuals to look at how related the sequences are, many of the mysteries will be revealed.
Breakfast of champions UPDATE (before prior WiFi):
7/20/13
Well, we made it to Khabarovsk! That's another 2,100km, or 1,300mi from Chita along the bumpy roads of Eastern Siberia. We think we're now solidly into H. r. gutturalis territory and hope for no more surprises for the remaining 763 km to our final destination at Vladivostok. We hope to sample some birds once around Khabarovsk, once about 400km from here and have one final sampling site around Vladivostok. On the 25th I'll need to get on a plane 9hrs back to Moscow and catch another plane the next day to get back to Colorado for the Animal Behavior Society Conference at our home institution at CU Boulder starting the 28th. Liz and Georgy will finish some logistics in my absence, put Georgy's car on a truck back to Krasnoyarsk, and take their own departure flights a couple days later. For such a long season, these last days are going to be jam packed and we can only hope good weather allows us to do what we need to do. Unfortunately it's typhoon season here and we're expecting more of the rain that has been following us for the last 400km. Cross your fingers for us!
Cheerio,
Matt
7/20/13
Well, we made it to Khabarovsk! That's another 2,100km, or 1,300mi from Chita along the bumpy roads of Eastern Siberia. We think we're now solidly into H. r. gutturalis territory and hope for no more surprises for the remaining 763 km to our final destination at Vladivostok. We hope to sample some birds once around Khabarovsk, once about 400km from here and have one final sampling site around Vladivostok. On the 25th I'll need to get on a plane 9hrs back to Moscow and catch another plane the next day to get back to Colorado for the Animal Behavior Society Conference at our home institution at CU Boulder starting the 28th. Liz and Georgy will finish some logistics in my absence, put Georgy's car on a truck back to Krasnoyarsk, and take their own departure flights a couple days later. For such a long season, these last days are going to be jam packed and we can only hope good weather allows us to do what we need to do. Unfortunately it's typhoon season here and we're expecting more of the rain that has been following us for the last 400km. Cross your fingers for us!
Cheerio,
Matt