A white SUV ground to a stop near a sliver of New Jersey marshland, tires snarling against the gravel and sand access road. Three men – Christopher Takacs, David Bernstein, and Michael Wolfe – bounded out. Brine lingered in the moist air as they rushed forward on foot, traveling below an overpass. Reeds lined the lane, which was somewhere along the Hackensack River. Midges and ticks lurked in the dark as the trio waited for midnight. Takacs’ phone alarm chirped. It was finally midnight. As if on cue, something trilled in the near distance.

“There’s a shorebird calling!” one of the men said.

“And there’s his friend calling!” another said.

The trio swiftly matched this semi-squeak to a species. It was a spotted sandpiper. After they identified the brown-and-white bird, they moved on to the next one. Bernstein whistled, ooh-eeh-ooh. Takacs clapped his hands. It was likely too dark to make visual IDs, so they needed birds to call back – and fast. Because the clock was ticking: they only had another 23 hours and 50 minutes to log as many bird species as possible.

Takacs, Bernstein, and Wolfe, who form the Meadowlands Marsh Hawks team, were competing in the World Series of Birding. Every year, hundreds of birders from across the United States flock to New Jersey for what organizers call the “country’s largest and most prestigious birding competition.” (A note on avian language in this article: while some ornithophiles don’t believe there’s a significant distinction between “bird watching” and “birding,” others do. Writer Julia Zarankin says “the two verbs, ‘birdwatching and birding’ refer to vastly different experiences and states of mind. Birdwatching is a passive pursuit. Birders, on the other hand, are slightly more obsessed versions of birdwatchers. The birder is actively, sometimes even compulsively, pursuing birds; they are in it for the chase ... In a sense, birding is about our human impulse to hunt, but without the blood.”)

Participants had 24 hours from midnight on Saturday 11 May to see and hear as many bird species as possible. The annual contest, put on by New Jersey Audubon, started 36 years ago in response to regional birdwatching enthusiasts expressing interest in tallying as many species as possible in a single day during spring migration. Pete Dunne, who recently retired from New Jersey Audubon, thought that a competition could get them into gear. The rest is history.

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The 2019 competition came amid what could be a pivotal point in birding. While birders have long used web-based platforms to tally sightings and compete, a mandarin duck’s appearance in Central Park last fall inadvertently introduced tens of thousands to birdwatching. “Our Twitter site grew tremendously in followers. Initially, I’m sure that many of those followers came for the mandarin duck,” says David Barrett, whose Manhattan Bird Alert Twitter account helped turn the “hot duck” into a viral sensation. “They wanted to be part of that, and see the photos we were posting every day … you would see hundreds of people come on weekend days to see the mandarin duck. It got people realizing that it’s fun to go out and look at birds.”

Indeed, J Drew Lanham, a professor of wildlife ecology at Clemson University and author of The Home Place: Memoirs of a Colored Man’s Love Affair with Nature, believes birding is attracting younger fans. “Birding is having much more than a moment. It’s a movement. It has transcended the old and quirky and moved into the realm of young and cool,” Lanham told the Guardian in an email.

There are regional and statewide competitions in the World Series, and the Meadowlands Marsh Hawks were competing in the former. Because the number of bird species differs from county to county, competitions are scored on a “par” system rather than overall numbers, says Lillian Armstrong, special events director for New Jersey Audubon, which has used the World Series as a fundraising vehicle that has generated almost $9m for bird conservation efforts since its inception.

This year drew 400 participants and 59 teams, including one bicycle-based group that came to the Garden State from Guatemala for the competition. Experts determine what species are in a region in a given season. The goal for teams in the regional competition is to get as many of these par birds as possible – “all the getable species for this time of year in that county,” Armstrong explains.

Teams submit their sightings throughout the day via a phone app. Two brothers, themselves birders, developed the app specifically for the World Series. Competitors don’t need evidence: it is an honor system. There is a write-in category for birds that don’t belong in the region, so organizers can decide later whether to count them towards a team’s total.

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Keeping watch over a New Jersey lake. Photograph: Victoria Bekiempis

The Guardian rode along with the Meadowlands Marsh Hawks to get a sense of this marathon. Sometime after their initial pass through marshlands, the men decided they needed to move. The inactivity was weighing upon them.

“We could really use some night birds,” Bernstein said.

Wolfe was behind the wheel and Takacs rode shotgun, scanning a weather radar app on his phone. Bernstein was in the backseat. They were now headed to a camp usually used by boy scouts. Wolfe stopped the car in a wooded area. The team exited and Wolfe hooted a barred owl call, which he had perfected in the shower. They waited a few beats for a response. Nothing. After several tries in other thickets, they gave the owl search a final go. Whoo-whoo-whoo-whoo, whoo-whoo-whoo-whew, Wolfe called. Something big stirred in the branches, answering Wolfe’s call with its own whoo-whoo-whoo-whoo, whoo-whoo-whoo-whew.

“Finally!” Takacs exclaimed, elated they had finally got their owl.

The team would wind up racing between meadowlands, lakeshores, preserves, parks, hills and cliffs. After arriving at a location, they would rush out of the car, scour the treetops and sky for birds, note their findings, return to the car, and then zoom off, ready to repeat the process at the next location.

“We’ve put in years, getting this together and modifying it ... paying attention to how and when birds are moving and where there more likely to be” Takacs explained. “There’s never any guarantee. You have to make modifications as you go along.”

They had the energy of tornado chasers, dedicating every last bit of adrenaline to checking birds off the list. Takacs occasionally sipped on an energy drink, and Bernstein apologetically asked for coffee about 12 hours in. The Meadowlands Marsh Hawks’ endurance was impressive. While they were in various stages of middle age, only the 31-year-old reporter wound up napping. Nerves started to fray as the day went on, however, when the returns weren’t looking as good as they had hoped.

And there were injuries too. At one point, when Takacs was in a hurry to arrange a boot, one of his fingers bent back at a terrifying angle. Takacs surmised that he “dislocated or broke” his finger.

“I sent my wife a text,” Takacs told the group. “No migration. Dislocated finger. Worst day ever. Still having a good time.”

He added: “She wants to know if she can see me.”

“We don’t have time for that,” Wolfe replied, and it wasn’t entirely clear if he was joking (as it happened, Takacs’ wife did show up. She wrapped several of his fingers together and then disappeared after a few minutes.)

Around 5pm, the team was tired. They had driven 187 miles and trekked 14 more on foot. They decided to stop at a 7-11 for drinks.

“We did a shit job,” Takacs said.

“No, don’t say that,” Bernstein said.

“We put in a lot of effort,” Takacs conceded.

“We hit everywhere we were supposed to be,” Wolfe said.

“There are some people who had birds at 8.30 and at 8.30, we were somewhere else,” Takacs said. “You can’t be on both sides of the county at the same time.”

The Meadowlands Marsh Hawks would ultimately tabulate 130 bird species, good enough for third in the regional competition. Takacs admits that “we were disappointed a little bit ... we know we could have done better.” He remains optimistic for 2020, however: “We will be back. We’re already formulating a game plan for next year.”