Just a short drive north of Quito, Pululahua Geobotanical Reserve lies within one of the largest volcanic craters in the Americas. At 6km in diameter, the massive crater surrounds an impressive resurgent cone in its center, and the steep inner walls are richly draped in temperate woodland and scrub, including huge swaths of chusquea bamboo. As the most recent eruption was well over two millennia ago, the fertile bottom of the crater is now farmed extensively and inhabited by a small community of approximately fifty people, including our amiable hosts last weekend, Renato and Paola, the owners of Pululahua Hostal. Designed with an ecological conscience, this comfortable hostal boasts both wind and solar power as well as offering excellent birding, hiking, and horseback riding excursions.
Hardcore listers will no doubt be familiar with the site for harboring one of only two populations of the Rusty-Breasted Antpitta, a diminutive skulker that was found in Ecuador so recently that it's not even included in the field guide. The site deserves attention from more casual birders, though, for the number of difficult temperate forest birds that lurk in the dense vegetation below the crater rim, including the Undulated, Chestnut-Crowned, Chestnut-Naped, and Rufous Antpittas; Ocellated, Ash-Colored and Unicolored Tapaculos, Stripe-Headed Brush-Finch; White-Browed Spinetail; and Plain-Tailed Wren. Although you won't find mature montane forest here like at the nearby Yanacocha Reserve, you'll have a greater chance of locating these hallowed skulkers, especially with the help of local knowledge. While I had birded the crater by myself on several occasions previously, I was delighted by the facility with which Renato and I located the Rusty-Breasted Antpitta, Ocellated Tapaculo, and Undulated Antpitta, all lifers for me.
Our first target was the Rusty-Breasted Antpitta, and late Saturday afternoon Renato and Paola took Aimee and me to one of their stakeouts not far from the hostal. With a touch of playback and a lot of luck, I soon had the beautiful antpitta in sight, its white lores and deep rusty breast stunning against the browns and greens of the bamboo. An early start the following morning found us along a trail near the crater rim, where our second target, the Undulated Antpitta, was spotted several times out in front of us, hopping daringly out in the open in search of worms. This very large antpitta looks quite similar to the Giant Antpitta, which is now a commonly seen and photographed bird thanks to the extraordinary efforts of Angel Paz; the Undulated Antpitta, however, is more deeply scalloped on its underparts and has a white throat and dark malar stripe, features which are barely visible in the photograph above. Aside from the elevation at which we saw this scarcely-seen bird, there was no doubt in its identification when we first encountered it on the trail as it stood facing us several meters ahead, its unique underparts clearly visible.
Despite all the antpitta action, the bird of the trip was undoubtedly the magnificent Ocellated Tapaculo, one of the finest skulkers of the upper slopes of the Andes. When Renato had asked me earlier if there were any birds in the crater that I hadn't seen before, he was surprised when I told him that the tapaculo was missing from my list. The bird is quite common in certain locations within the crater, he explained, and promised we would have a good chance at seeing it the following morning. Although we had three birds loudly calling in close proximity at his stakeout, we didn't lay our eyes on one until later on the trail where we had our close encounter with the Undulated Antpitta. While the Ocellated Tapaculo typically remains in incredibly deep cover as it forages and piercingly claims its territory, this individual bird was relatively visible as it moved in the undergrowth at eye level just off the trail. In fact, at one point the bird was only a meter in front of me, oddly unaware of my camera shutter clattering away several times per second.
Notable birds seen: Andean Guan, Squirrel Cuckoo, Collared Inca, Black-Tailed Trainbearer, Sapphire-Vented Puffleg, Turquoise Jay, White-Browed Spinetail, Rusty-Breasted Antpitta, Undulated Antpitta, Ocellated Tapaculo, Unicolored Tapaculo, White-Tailed Tyrannulet, Smoke-Colored Pewee, Tufted Tit-Tyrant, Yellow-Bellied Chat-Tyrant, Red-Crested Cotinga, Russet-Crowned Warbler, Rusty Flowerpiercer, Fawn-Breasted Tanager, Buff-Breasted Mountain-Tanager, Rufous-Chested Tanager, Band-Tailed Seedeater, Stripe-Headed Brush-Finch, White-Winged Brush-Finch.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Friday, December 11, 2009
Quito Botanical Garden: December 11, 2009
The Quito Botanical Garden in Parque Carolina continues to yield unusual boreal migrants, offering temporary refuge to birds on their way to the eastern slope and lowlands. Last year, a Great Crested Flycatcher spent the entire winter in the garden; more recently this week a Northern Waterthrush was recorded by Roger Ahlman, who's been visiting the garden regularly and making some surprising observations. I stopped by for a few hours one morning to try for the Northern Waterthrush, and while I missed it, I still noted a handful of migrants myself, including the Yellow Warbler, Swainson's Thrush, Summer Tanager, and perhaps Alder or Willow Flycatcher. Activity was particularly high in the wooded area just behind the pond at the entrance to the park.
Notable birds seen: Black-Tailed Trainbearer, Southern Beardless Tyrannulet, Yellow Warbler, Swainson's Thrush, Black Flowerpiercer, Masked Flowerpiercer, Rusty Flowerpiercer, Cinerous Conebill, Scrub Tanager, Summer Tanager, Southern Yellow Grosbeak.
Notable birds seen: Black-Tailed Trainbearer, Southern Beardless Tyrannulet, Yellow Warbler, Swainson's Thrush, Black Flowerpiercer, Masked Flowerpiercer, Rusty Flowerpiercer, Cinerous Conebill, Scrub Tanager, Summer Tanager, Southern Yellow Grosbeak.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Bosque Protector Jerusalem: December 4, 2009
It's the Fiestas de Quito this weekend, and life in the capital city has been noisy and wild. There are outdoor public concerts on seemingly every block, and open air buses with brass bands playing on the roof drive around the city aimlessly. Despite being sick for the last week, I simply had to escape the din for a few hours, heading off to Bosque Protector Jerusalem for some late afternoon birding and early evening owling. Although it doesn't boast a big bird list compared to most other sites in Ecuador, the reserve is only an hour away and supposedly contains a few gems I have yet to see, such as the Buff-Fronted Owl.
The Casa de Aves Trail yielded some typical interandean species, such as the Scrub Tanager, Streaked Saltator, and Common Ground-Dove, and down by the reservoir I spotted two male Blue-and-Yellow Tanagers and a pair of Golden-Rumped Euphonias. The Giant Hummingbird is also quite common here, and they could be heard calling throughout the afternoon. The real mystery of the visit had to be the elaenia I observed feeding in the shrubs along the water. The species of this genus of tyrant flycatchers are almost impossible to identify on sight alone, and birders typically distinguish them based on their distributions in the field guide, as some species even have remarkably similar vocalizations. I'm going way out on a limb, then, when I claim it was a Sierran Elaenia even though this bird seemed very large and impressively yellow; it just as easily might have been a fresh-plumaged White-Crested Elaenia or even a Lesser Elaenia, for all I know.
As dusk fell I walked through the camping area under a row of massive eucalyptus trees. Meanwhile, high above an adult Harris's Hawk wasn't comfortable with my presence and moved ahead of me from tree to tree as I passed underneath. Despite putting in over an hour after nightfall, I only heard one owl call once, which didn't give me much to follow up on. I also tried trolling briefly for the Buff-Fronted Owl in a few shallow ravines but no luck. Quito was still a mess when I got back, but at least I had successfully distanced myself from the mayhem, if only for an afternoon.
Notable birds seen: Harris's Hawk, American Kestrel, Common Ground-Dove, Black-Tailed Trainbearer, Giant Hummingbird, Azara's Spinetail, Sierran Elaenia, Southern Beardless Tyrannulet, Vermilion Flycatcher, Golden-Rumped Euphonia, Blue-and-Yellow Tanager, Scrub Tanager, Streaked Saltator, Hooded Siskin.
The Casa de Aves Trail yielded some typical interandean species, such as the Scrub Tanager, Streaked Saltator, and Common Ground-Dove, and down by the reservoir I spotted two male Blue-and-Yellow Tanagers and a pair of Golden-Rumped Euphonias. The Giant Hummingbird is also quite common here, and they could be heard calling throughout the afternoon. The real mystery of the visit had to be the elaenia I observed feeding in the shrubs along the water. The species of this genus of tyrant flycatchers are almost impossible to identify on sight alone, and birders typically distinguish them based on their distributions in the field guide, as some species even have remarkably similar vocalizations. I'm going way out on a limb, then, when I claim it was a Sierran Elaenia even though this bird seemed very large and impressively yellow; it just as easily might have been a fresh-plumaged White-Crested Elaenia or even a Lesser Elaenia, for all I know.
As dusk fell I walked through the camping area under a row of massive eucalyptus trees. Meanwhile, high above an adult Harris's Hawk wasn't comfortable with my presence and moved ahead of me from tree to tree as I passed underneath. Despite putting in over an hour after nightfall, I only heard one owl call once, which didn't give me much to follow up on. I also tried trolling briefly for the Buff-Fronted Owl in a few shallow ravines but no luck. Quito was still a mess when I got back, but at least I had successfully distanced myself from the mayhem, if only for an afternoon.
Notable birds seen: Harris's Hawk, American Kestrel, Common Ground-Dove, Black-Tailed Trainbearer, Giant Hummingbird, Azara's Spinetail, Sierran Elaenia, Southern Beardless Tyrannulet, Vermilion Flycatcher, Golden-Rumped Euphonia, Blue-and-Yellow Tanager, Scrub Tanager, Streaked Saltator, Hooded Siskin.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
My Top Ten Birds Missed
When I leave Ecuador in a few months, I'll have not seen hundreds of bird species, although that's to be expected as many birds on the country list are rare, unusual migrants, or highly local to remote regions (my goal is to see at least 1000 species, which leaves over 600 unseen). Missing a bird, then, is not seeing one when I had a good opportunity, and these types of misses hurt the worst.
The Harpy Eagle is the most magnificent bird of prey in the neotropics and perhaps the world. Every time I'm in the eastern or western lowlands I always ask guides and other birders whether they know of a recent sighting, and I have heard the most outrageous stories in return. The easiest way to see a Harpy Eagle is to visit a known nest, of course, but it's also spotted on occasion from canopy towers in the eastern lowlands; in fact, a group of biology students from my school was visiting Tiputini Research Station in Yasuni National Park a few years ago and they saw one for a few minutes from the tower there. I missed a great opportunity to see the Harpy Eagle myself, when I failed to visit Gareno Lodge outside Tena where a nest was active a few years ago; the tree it was located in recently fell to the ground.
The Orange-Throated Tanager is a large, spectacular arboreal tanager that lives in the remote Cordillera del Condor in extreme southeastern Ecuador and northeastern Peru. While touring the Zamora region a few summers ago, we decided to drive way out to Cabanas Yankuam for a few nights to visit the Shuar territory up the Nangaritza River and have a try for the bird. Sadly, the forest around Shaime is heavily degraded and we trekked for many hours along a deep, muddy trail in pouring rain before arriving at the site where the birds are normally seen. Our Shuar guide wasn't very attuned to our search and spent most of the time talking about which birds in the field guide were good to eat, but he did locate a group of Orange-Throated Tanagers briefly way overhead. I never lined them up properly in my binoculars, though, and the birds dispersed in the dense, towering canopy not to be located again.
Update: Returning to Cabanas Yankuam over Semana Santa, Aimee and I observed two different groups of Orange-Throated Tanagers with relative ease.
The Agami Heron is rare and inconspicuous along varzea streams and oxbow lakes in the eastern lowlands. It is extremely elegant with a long, narrow bill, and it hunts solitary and motionless in dense vegetation. Every time we visit a lodge in the eastern lowlands, we travel through what I imagine is perfect Agami Heron habitat by dugout canoe while I peer expectantly into the darkness hoping to pick out this richly-colored heron perched on an exposed branch. I've never seen it, though. To make matters worse, our guide at Sani Lodge this summer, Domingo, told me about an acquaintance of his who found a colony of thousands of nesting Agami Herons on a little-visited tributary of the Tiputini River; the guy explained that there were birds everywhere out in the open as far as you could see.
Update: I finally observed this species during my last trip to Amazonia, once before dawn with Oscar Tepuy at a regular site at Sacha Lodge, and another time with Domingo at Sani Lodge. The latter occasion was at such close range, I didn't need binoculars.
The Golden-Chested Tanager is found in the far northwestern lower foothills. It's a plain navy blue bird with a gold patch on its chest, but it's been driving me crazy as I've visited a well-known site twice now and barely missed it both times. To have a chance for the tanager, you must drive six hours from Quito to Jocotoco Foundation's Rio Canande Reserve, where expensive reservations are required, and then walk four hours up a steep ridge, where it's sometimes found rather high in the dense, bromelia-laden canopy with mixed flocks. I spent hours looking for it on my last visit right after my iPod stopped working due to the humidity (supposedly the bird responds well to recordings of its buzzy call). While pouring over a monospecific flock of Tawny-Crested Tanagers, I heard our guide Galo come up behind me and spot it before it moved down the ridge. There simply must be an easier site for this bird.
The Rufous-Crowned Antpitta is so rare and difficult that I actually didn't mind just missing it on our last visit to the Jocotoco Foundation's Rio Canande Reserve in the northwestern lowlands. Aimee, Galo, and I were just getting started on a long day's journey up to the Black-Tipped Cotinga Viewpoint when we heard the mythical antpitta calling in the undergrowth near the Red-Capped Manakin Trail turnoff. Despite calling quite close by, the two birds could have been anywhere around us due to the acoustical affect of being on a ridge. I knew as soon as we heard them that we didn't have a chance of seeing one, but we gave it an honest effort for fifteen minutes until the pair stopped calling and went their separate ways on either side of the ridge. Considering no one ever sees this bird, I felt pretty good about our near miss until Dusan Brinkhuizen from Aves Ecuador let me know what a shame it was that we let it get away.
Update: Amazingly, I saw the Rufous-Crowned Antpitta in January at Mangaloma Reserve, obtaining decent photographs as well.
The Gray-Headed Antbird is an attractive, rather long-tailed antbird like the Blackish Antbird but much more elegantly patterned. It's highly localized, though, and if you're interested in seeing it in Ecuador, then you'll need to travel all the way down south to the Jocotoco Foundation's Utuana Reserve. Actually the bird is found most regularly in some bamboo stands along the road from Sozoronga as you approach the reserve, but you get the idea. If you're traveling down here, it's most likely you're a birder, and as you want to see as many species as possible on your trip, then this bird is important to you, much more important than if it were widespread. Birds like the Gray-Headed Antbird take us to remote, forgotten places that wouldn't interest anyone else; they are what make us unique as travelers, so missing them erodes our identity and sense of purpose.
The Black-Spotted Bare-Eye is a gorgeously patterned antbird found in varzea forest in the eastern lowlands. While it generally attends antswarms, the bird is occasionally found on its own, always extremely shy. Amazingly a colleague of mine saw one at an antswarm at Sani Lodge a few years ago and even photographed it despite not being a birder himself. This isn't a bird I ever expected to see myself, but on my last visit to Sani we heard one calling not far from Domingo's reliable White-Lored Antpitta site. At the same time, though, we heard the rare and local Rufous-Headed Woodpecker calling from above. At this point, Domingo had to make a decision as a guide: do we chase an obscure and skiddish antbird that's difficult to see with playback, or do we try to locate one of the most prized woodpeckers in the neotropics? Although I had seen the woodpecker before, I agreed with his decision to abandon the Black-Spotted Bare-Eye.
Update: Another long-desired bird that I finally tracked down on my last trip to Amazonia. We heard small groups of them every day, but had to be very patient and persistent to line them up properly in our binoculars.
The Spectacled Owl is a large, almost comical-looking owl that is widely distributed in Central and Southern America. Missing this owl in Ecuador isn't going to kill me, but the manner in which I've missed it will. Nothing is worse than taking a lot of time to visit a bird's roosting site and have it not be where it's supposed to be. On my most recent visit to Sani Lodge, our guide Domingo took us an hour by boat up the Napo and half an hour on foot onto his father's property to see a pair of roosting Spectacled Owls. Just like the Crested Owls we had missed the same morning, they were nowhere to be found. Who knows what other birds we were missing somewhere nearby while we were purposefully pursuing this one? (As it turns out we missed a Yellow-Fronted Nunbird calling near the riverbank.)
Update: Domingo and I finally found the pair of owls at their roosting site, just as we had planned last year.
The Yellow-Throated Spadebill is the type of bird that I miss because I don't spend a lot of time birding with guides, in part because the services of a very good one are expensive. The spadebill is rare and local in subtropical forest on the eastern slope, but there's a particular trail at Wild Sumaco Lodge where the bird is found somewhat regularly. After much research and study of its call I tried for it early one morning while staying at the lodge, which is a big investment of money in itself. While checking out a territorial male Chestnut-Crowned Gnateater, I recognized the call of the spadebill coming from down the trail. Scrambling to set up my iPod and keep up with the birds, which were speeding down the trail for some reason, I couldn't seem to located them as they moved from perch to perch presumably right in front of me. Another set of eyes surely would have helped, but how many other difficult birds have I missed because I didn't know their call?
The Black-Breasted Puffleg is a very rare and endangered hummingbird that I should have seen by now. Seriously, I've been to its habitat on the northwestern slope of Pichincha at least ten times during the months of April to August when it annually appears, missing it each time while plenty of other birders have seen it visiting the feeders at Yanacocha Reserve, for example. Although this site is less than an hour's drive from Quito, I admit that it's difficult to find a rare and obscure hummingbird, considering that you're basically forced to wait at the hummingbird feeders until one shows up. Still, the bird has appeared briefly but regularly at other sites downslope, including Verdecocha Reserve, and it's my own fault that I didn't go after it when I heard the news. I have one more season left to see this Ecuadorian endemic, though, and I'm really going to go for it.
Honorable mention: Collared Puffbird, Black-Necked Red Cotinga, Elegant Crescentchest, Beautiful Jay, Golden-Eyed Flowerpiercer, Sharp-Tailed Streamcreeper.
The Harpy Eagle is the most magnificent bird of prey in the neotropics and perhaps the world. Every time I'm in the eastern or western lowlands I always ask guides and other birders whether they know of a recent sighting, and I have heard the most outrageous stories in return. The easiest way to see a Harpy Eagle is to visit a known nest, of course, but it's also spotted on occasion from canopy towers in the eastern lowlands; in fact, a group of biology students from my school was visiting Tiputini Research Station in Yasuni National Park a few years ago and they saw one for a few minutes from the tower there. I missed a great opportunity to see the Harpy Eagle myself, when I failed to visit Gareno Lodge outside Tena where a nest was active a few years ago; the tree it was located in recently fell to the ground.
The Orange-Throated Tanager is a large, spectacular arboreal tanager that lives in the remote Cordillera del Condor in extreme southeastern Ecuador and northeastern Peru. While touring the Zamora region a few summers ago, we decided to drive way out to Cabanas Yankuam for a few nights to visit the Shuar territory up the Nangaritza River and have a try for the bird. Sadly, the forest around Shaime is heavily degraded and we trekked for many hours along a deep, muddy trail in pouring rain before arriving at the site where the birds are normally seen. Our Shuar guide wasn't very attuned to our search and spent most of the time talking about which birds in the field guide were good to eat, but he did locate a group of Orange-Throated Tanagers briefly way overhead. I never lined them up properly in my binoculars, though, and the birds dispersed in the dense, towering canopy not to be located again.
Update: Returning to Cabanas Yankuam over Semana Santa, Aimee and I observed two different groups of Orange-Throated Tanagers with relative ease.
The Agami Heron is rare and inconspicuous along varzea streams and oxbow lakes in the eastern lowlands. It is extremely elegant with a long, narrow bill, and it hunts solitary and motionless in dense vegetation. Every time we visit a lodge in the eastern lowlands, we travel through what I imagine is perfect Agami Heron habitat by dugout canoe while I peer expectantly into the darkness hoping to pick out this richly-colored heron perched on an exposed branch. I've never seen it, though. To make matters worse, our guide at Sani Lodge this summer, Domingo, told me about an acquaintance of his who found a colony of thousands of nesting Agami Herons on a little-visited tributary of the Tiputini River; the guy explained that there were birds everywhere out in the open as far as you could see.
Update: I finally observed this species during my last trip to Amazonia, once before dawn with Oscar Tepuy at a regular site at Sacha Lodge, and another time with Domingo at Sani Lodge. The latter occasion was at such close range, I didn't need binoculars.
The Golden-Chested Tanager is found in the far northwestern lower foothills. It's a plain navy blue bird with a gold patch on its chest, but it's been driving me crazy as I've visited a well-known site twice now and barely missed it both times. To have a chance for the tanager, you must drive six hours from Quito to Jocotoco Foundation's Rio Canande Reserve, where expensive reservations are required, and then walk four hours up a steep ridge, where it's sometimes found rather high in the dense, bromelia-laden canopy with mixed flocks. I spent hours looking for it on my last visit right after my iPod stopped working due to the humidity (supposedly the bird responds well to recordings of its buzzy call). While pouring over a monospecific flock of Tawny-Crested Tanagers, I heard our guide Galo come up behind me and spot it before it moved down the ridge. There simply must be an easier site for this bird.
The Rufous-Crowned Antpitta is so rare and difficult that I actually didn't mind just missing it on our last visit to the Jocotoco Foundation's Rio Canande Reserve in the northwestern lowlands. Aimee, Galo, and I were just getting started on a long day's journey up to the Black-Tipped Cotinga Viewpoint when we heard the mythical antpitta calling in the undergrowth near the Red-Capped Manakin Trail turnoff. Despite calling quite close by, the two birds could have been anywhere around us due to the acoustical affect of being on a ridge. I knew as soon as we heard them that we didn't have a chance of seeing one, but we gave it an honest effort for fifteen minutes until the pair stopped calling and went their separate ways on either side of the ridge. Considering no one ever sees this bird, I felt pretty good about our near miss until Dusan Brinkhuizen from Aves Ecuador let me know what a shame it was that we let it get away.
Update: Amazingly, I saw the Rufous-Crowned Antpitta in January at Mangaloma Reserve, obtaining decent photographs as well.
The Gray-Headed Antbird is an attractive, rather long-tailed antbird like the Blackish Antbird but much more elegantly patterned. It's highly localized, though, and if you're interested in seeing it in Ecuador, then you'll need to travel all the way down south to the Jocotoco Foundation's Utuana Reserve. Actually the bird is found most regularly in some bamboo stands along the road from Sozoronga as you approach the reserve, but you get the idea. If you're traveling down here, it's most likely you're a birder, and as you want to see as many species as possible on your trip, then this bird is important to you, much more important than if it were widespread. Birds like the Gray-Headed Antbird take us to remote, forgotten places that wouldn't interest anyone else; they are what make us unique as travelers, so missing them erodes our identity and sense of purpose.
The Black-Spotted Bare-Eye is a gorgeously patterned antbird found in varzea forest in the eastern lowlands. While it generally attends antswarms, the bird is occasionally found on its own, always extremely shy. Amazingly a colleague of mine saw one at an antswarm at Sani Lodge a few years ago and even photographed it despite not being a birder himself. This isn't a bird I ever expected to see myself, but on my last visit to Sani we heard one calling not far from Domingo's reliable White-Lored Antpitta site. At the same time, though, we heard the rare and local Rufous-Headed Woodpecker calling from above. At this point, Domingo had to make a decision as a guide: do we chase an obscure and skiddish antbird that's difficult to see with playback, or do we try to locate one of the most prized woodpeckers in the neotropics? Although I had seen the woodpecker before, I agreed with his decision to abandon the Black-Spotted Bare-Eye.
Update: Another long-desired bird that I finally tracked down on my last trip to Amazonia. We heard small groups of them every day, but had to be very patient and persistent to line them up properly in our binoculars.
The Spectacled Owl is a large, almost comical-looking owl that is widely distributed in Central and Southern America. Missing this owl in Ecuador isn't going to kill me, but the manner in which I've missed it will. Nothing is worse than taking a lot of time to visit a bird's roosting site and have it not be where it's supposed to be. On my most recent visit to Sani Lodge, our guide Domingo took us an hour by boat up the Napo and half an hour on foot onto his father's property to see a pair of roosting Spectacled Owls. Just like the Crested Owls we had missed the same morning, they were nowhere to be found. Who knows what other birds we were missing somewhere nearby while we were purposefully pursuing this one? (As it turns out we missed a Yellow-Fronted Nunbird calling near the riverbank.)
Update: Domingo and I finally found the pair of owls at their roosting site, just as we had planned last year.
The Yellow-Throated Spadebill is the type of bird that I miss because I don't spend a lot of time birding with guides, in part because the services of a very good one are expensive. The spadebill is rare and local in subtropical forest on the eastern slope, but there's a particular trail at Wild Sumaco Lodge where the bird is found somewhat regularly. After much research and study of its call I tried for it early one morning while staying at the lodge, which is a big investment of money in itself. While checking out a territorial male Chestnut-Crowned Gnateater, I recognized the call of the spadebill coming from down the trail. Scrambling to set up my iPod and keep up with the birds, which were speeding down the trail for some reason, I couldn't seem to located them as they moved from perch to perch presumably right in front of me. Another set of eyes surely would have helped, but how many other difficult birds have I missed because I didn't know their call?
The Black-Breasted Puffleg is a very rare and endangered hummingbird that I should have seen by now. Seriously, I've been to its habitat on the northwestern slope of Pichincha at least ten times during the months of April to August when it annually appears, missing it each time while plenty of other birders have seen it visiting the feeders at Yanacocha Reserve, for example. Although this site is less than an hour's drive from Quito, I admit that it's difficult to find a rare and obscure hummingbird, considering that you're basically forced to wait at the hummingbird feeders until one shows up. Still, the bird has appeared briefly but regularly at other sites downslope, including Verdecocha Reserve, and it's my own fault that I didn't go after it when I heard the news. I have one more season left to see this Ecuadorian endemic, though, and I'm really going to go for it.
Honorable mention: Collared Puffbird, Black-Necked Red Cotinga, Elegant Crescentchest, Beautiful Jay, Golden-Eyed Flowerpiercer, Sharp-Tailed Streamcreeper.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
My Top Ten Birds Seen
With already 963 bird species seen and only half a year remaining in Ecuador, I've been thinking more about the highlights of my time birding here. While the following ten birds aren't necessarily the rarest or most charismatic that I've seen in this country, they were certainly the most memorable for one reason or another.
The Zigzag Heron is a legendary nocturnal heron of Amazonia that is difficult but not impossible to see; indeed, a number of jungle lodges in the Ecuadorian Amazon have found territories along various oxbow lakes, including Sacha and La Selva Lodges, where playback and patience sometimes yield views of the bird. On the final evening of our memorable stay at Sacha this year, our birding guide Oscar Tepuy took us deep into the varzea forest, where we played recordings of the heron for half an hour as it responded with its powerful croaking call. Just before we gave up, the heron flew out of deep cover and landed in the open with its short tail flicking nervously back and forth right in front of us. I remember Oscar was almost bitter when he told us it was his best sighting in over twenty years of birding in the region.
The Pacific Royal-Flycatcher is endangered and not destined to exist much longer on our planet due to habitat destruction. While flycatchers aren't renowned for their beauty, this rufous-colored one has a great red fanned crest, which it normally wears tucked along its head like a collapsed hand-held fan. Although I have made several visits to its habitat on the western coast and in the southwest, I definitely didn't deserve to find this bird so easily. As it was, Aimee and I were hiking up a steep trail in Manglares-Churute National Park, fiercely hounded by mosquitoes all the way. I was so distraught, in fact, that I wanted to turn around and get the hell out of there despite wearing my rain coat and tons of repellent on my face and hands. Aimee encouraged me to relax and keep going, though, as we were getting some much needed exercise on what was to be a long day of driving. I had already passed by a number of calling birds without looking for them as the insects were insupportable, when we stumbled on a single Pacific Royal-Flycatcher just off the trail. The experience radically altered my state of mind as if the mosquitoes suddenly all just buzzed off.
The Andean Condor is the iconic bird of Ecuador as it's displayed prominently on the national emblem, but the population of condors is dwindling fast: sadly, the 2009 condor census yielded approximately 40 individuals, and predictions are that the species will be extirpated within the decade. Amazingly, I've seen Andean Condors on over fifteen occasions while birding or hiking in the eastern cordillera reserves of Cayambe-Coca, Antisana, and Cotopaxi. By far my best sighting was just recently on a mountaineering adventure in Antisana Reserve, when two adults and a juvenile passed repeatedly by the cliff I was resting on while one member of our party was splayed out on the ground exhausted far below.
The White-Faced Nunbird was the bird that began this blogging adventure for me. I had been birding the Tandayapa Valley for a few months every weekend, learning how to bird through trial and error and making my way painstakingly through the sites and sounds of subtropical and temperate forest on the northwestern slope. My low-budget weekend routine had been to camp well above the cabins at Bellavista Lodge and bird the trails and the road all day. Late one morning I was returning to the camp site via the Ridge Trail, and I flushed a bird that had been perched nearby. As it landed, it startled a pair of Toucan Barbets that had been feeding quietly, and when the birds quarreled the intruder flew up and landed just above my head. I admired the beautiful nunbird for ten minutes before it flew off and I've never seen it again on either slope. Instead of telling the guides at the lodge about seeing such a rare bird, which felt like an extremely bold claim coming from such a novice birder, I started this blog.
The Jocotoco Antpitta is the most famous and beautiful of the antpittas in Ecuador, and though it's also one of the largest it was only discovered ten years ago, just as the field guide to the country was being completed. Another extremely rare and local bird species, it's only found in the Jocotoco Foundation's Tapichalaca Reserve in southern Ecuador, where one of the park guards is now feeding several birds worms every morning. Aimee and I visited a few summers ago when she was researching the region for Lonely Planet, and it was a strange and unsettling experience for me, as it was pouring rain and I hadn't slept the night before in expectation. I had worked hard to see a half dozen antpitta species on my own at that point, and I was shocked when one came hopping up the path withing two meters of me in response to the guard's call.
The sexually dimorphic Torrent Duck must be the most charismatic duck in the world, as it lives in rushing Andean streams that thrill-seeking kayakers would hesitate to brave. The beautiful male is streaked black and white with a bright orange bill while the female is a subtler ochre and teal, but both birds possess a powerful spiked tail with which they can navigate class-four white water rapids. Until we finally tracked a pair down on the Rio Cosanga, Aimee and I used to drive around the eastern and western slopes on duck duty: at every bridge we would break into song and slowly roll across as we scanned each boulder and shore for the Torrent Duck. Since then, I have found them pretty regularly on the Rio Papallacta at Guango Lodge.
The Swallow-Tailed Nightjar is one of the more spectacular nightjars in the world as the male has incredibly long tail streamers that extend two to three times the length of the bird's body. Rare and local in Ecuador, it's difficult to find without the help of a guide who knows a roosting site. On our eight-day excursion up Sumaco, an active 3800m volcano that rises up out of the eastern lowlands and is draped with primary foothill, subtropical, and temperate forest, we had the good fortune of finding one feeding at night. We had already gone to bed in the refuge next to a beautiful parasitic crater lake located about halfway up the volcano. Our bird guide, Borris Herrera, was already in the habit of waking us up in the middle of the night to track down calling Collared Forest-Falcons, Wattled Guans, and various owls, so we weren't surprised when he shouted for us a few hours later. From the back porch of the refuge with clear views out over the eastern lowlands we spotlighted a male Swallow-Tailed Nightjar swooping back and forth in the clearing, tail streamers rattling like a kite.
The Gray-Breasted Mountain-Toucan, like all of the mountain-toucans, has a powerful hold over me. Gorgeously patterned, it moves stealthily and is always surprising to find even at its well-known sites on the eastern slope. I've only encountered the bird three times, at Tapichalaca Reserve, the Cajanuma Entrance to Podocarpus National Park, and at Guango Lodge, but each encounter was rich and prolonged as I was able to follow the birds through the forest, watch them in the scope, or photograph them. I'll always treasure first finding a pair far below the access road to Cajanuma and then chasing after a bus that was leaving the park carrying Paul Greenfield, artist of the Birds of Ecuador, and his birding tour group; every member of his group shook my hand in gratitude!
The Ocellated Antbird is fairly widespread in Central and Southern America, but it's the most impressive of the obligate antswarm followers that I've seen, or at least had a good look at (I've only caught the White-Plumed Antbird out of the corner of my eye without binoculars). There's nothing more subtle but spectacular in the rainforest than the sight of a half-dozen species of antbirds gathered around a swarm of army ants with their dark eyes gleaming and tails pumping in expectation of an arthopod dashing out from the leaf litter. It's an incredibly fragile scene, though, as the slightest sound or movement scatters the birds deep into the understory, where they'll remain much longer than you'll care to wait. Amazingly at Jocotoco's Rio Canandé Reserve I found a family of Ocellated Antbirds foraging away from a swarm, their huge blue ocular patches and ornate orange and black mantles captivating in the low light. I watched them for over an hour as they cautiously moved about and still wasn't satisfied.
The Waved Albatross is basically pelagic but famously breeds on the Galápagos Islands, where it engages in elaborate courtship rituals with its heavy long yellow bill. Like all albatrosses, the bird is magnificent in flight as it soars for hours on stiff outstretched wings that span over two meters. A few mating pairs also breed on Isla de la Plata, a small island a few hours' boat ride off the western coast, where Aimee and I saw one incubating an egg that had been laid directly on the ground. The ride out to the island was spectacular as we passed several migrating humpback whales on the way, the males in full display as they breached and slapped the surface of the ocean with their tail and fins. Once on the island, to reach the nesting albatross we had to hike for several hours passing nesting Blue-Footed and Nazca Boobies and spotting other good birds along the way, including Short-Tailed Woodstar, Gray-and-White Tyrannulet, and Red-Billed Tropicbird.
Honorable mention: Black-and-Chestnut Eagle, Ocellated Tapaculo, Club-Winged Manakin, Rufous-Bellied Seedsnipe, Rufous-Headed Woodpecker, Peruvian Antpitta, Orange-Breasted Fruiteater, Masked Mountain-Tanager, Long-Wattled Umbrellabird, Ecuadorian Hillstar, Blue-Whiskered Tanager, Gray-Winged Trumpeter, Pinnated Bittern, Gray Tinamou, Ornate Hawk-Eagle, Noble Snipe, White-Tipped Sicklebill, Striated Antthrush, Barred Antthrush, Andean Cock-of-the-Rock, Scarlet-Breasted Dacnis, White-Capped Tanager, Bicolored Antvireo, Tanager Finch, Golden-Plumed Parakeet, Giant Conebill, Chestnut-Breasted Wren, Purple-Throated Cotinga, White-Capped Dippe, Moss-Backed Tanager, Black-Crested Tit-Tyrant, Scarlet-and-White Tanager.
The Zigzag Heron is a legendary nocturnal heron of Amazonia that is difficult but not impossible to see; indeed, a number of jungle lodges in the Ecuadorian Amazon have found territories along various oxbow lakes, including Sacha and La Selva Lodges, where playback and patience sometimes yield views of the bird. On the final evening of our memorable stay at Sacha this year, our birding guide Oscar Tepuy took us deep into the varzea forest, where we played recordings of the heron for half an hour as it responded with its powerful croaking call. Just before we gave up, the heron flew out of deep cover and landed in the open with its short tail flicking nervously back and forth right in front of us. I remember Oscar was almost bitter when he told us it was his best sighting in over twenty years of birding in the region.
The Pacific Royal-Flycatcher is endangered and not destined to exist much longer on our planet due to habitat destruction. While flycatchers aren't renowned for their beauty, this rufous-colored one has a great red fanned crest, which it normally wears tucked along its head like a collapsed hand-held fan. Although I have made several visits to its habitat on the western coast and in the southwest, I definitely didn't deserve to find this bird so easily. As it was, Aimee and I were hiking up a steep trail in Manglares-Churute National Park, fiercely hounded by mosquitoes all the way. I was so distraught, in fact, that I wanted to turn around and get the hell out of there despite wearing my rain coat and tons of repellent on my face and hands. Aimee encouraged me to relax and keep going, though, as we were getting some much needed exercise on what was to be a long day of driving. I had already passed by a number of calling birds without looking for them as the insects were insupportable, when we stumbled on a single Pacific Royal-Flycatcher just off the trail. The experience radically altered my state of mind as if the mosquitoes suddenly all just buzzed off.
The Andean Condor is the iconic bird of Ecuador as it's displayed prominently on the national emblem, but the population of condors is dwindling fast: sadly, the 2009 condor census yielded approximately 40 individuals, and predictions are that the species will be extirpated within the decade. Amazingly, I've seen Andean Condors on over fifteen occasions while birding or hiking in the eastern cordillera reserves of Cayambe-Coca, Antisana, and Cotopaxi. By far my best sighting was just recently on a mountaineering adventure in Antisana Reserve, when two adults and a juvenile passed repeatedly by the cliff I was resting on while one member of our party was splayed out on the ground exhausted far below.
The White-Faced Nunbird was the bird that began this blogging adventure for me. I had been birding the Tandayapa Valley for a few months every weekend, learning how to bird through trial and error and making my way painstakingly through the sites and sounds of subtropical and temperate forest on the northwestern slope. My low-budget weekend routine had been to camp well above the cabins at Bellavista Lodge and bird the trails and the road all day. Late one morning I was returning to the camp site via the Ridge Trail, and I flushed a bird that had been perched nearby. As it landed, it startled a pair of Toucan Barbets that had been feeding quietly, and when the birds quarreled the intruder flew up and landed just above my head. I admired the beautiful nunbird for ten minutes before it flew off and I've never seen it again on either slope. Instead of telling the guides at the lodge about seeing such a rare bird, which felt like an extremely bold claim coming from such a novice birder, I started this blog.
The Jocotoco Antpitta is the most famous and beautiful of the antpittas in Ecuador, and though it's also one of the largest it was only discovered ten years ago, just as the field guide to the country was being completed. Another extremely rare and local bird species, it's only found in the Jocotoco Foundation's Tapichalaca Reserve in southern Ecuador, where one of the park guards is now feeding several birds worms every morning. Aimee and I visited a few summers ago when she was researching the region for Lonely Planet, and it was a strange and unsettling experience for me, as it was pouring rain and I hadn't slept the night before in expectation. I had worked hard to see a half dozen antpitta species on my own at that point, and I was shocked when one came hopping up the path withing two meters of me in response to the guard's call.
The sexually dimorphic Torrent Duck must be the most charismatic duck in the world, as it lives in rushing Andean streams that thrill-seeking kayakers would hesitate to brave. The beautiful male is streaked black and white with a bright orange bill while the female is a subtler ochre and teal, but both birds possess a powerful spiked tail with which they can navigate class-four white water rapids. Until we finally tracked a pair down on the Rio Cosanga, Aimee and I used to drive around the eastern and western slopes on duck duty: at every bridge we would break into song and slowly roll across as we scanned each boulder and shore for the Torrent Duck. Since then, I have found them pretty regularly on the Rio Papallacta at Guango Lodge.
The Swallow-Tailed Nightjar is one of the more spectacular nightjars in the world as the male has incredibly long tail streamers that extend two to three times the length of the bird's body. Rare and local in Ecuador, it's difficult to find without the help of a guide who knows a roosting site. On our eight-day excursion up Sumaco, an active 3800m volcano that rises up out of the eastern lowlands and is draped with primary foothill, subtropical, and temperate forest, we had the good fortune of finding one feeding at night. We had already gone to bed in the refuge next to a beautiful parasitic crater lake located about halfway up the volcano. Our bird guide, Borris Herrera, was already in the habit of waking us up in the middle of the night to track down calling Collared Forest-Falcons, Wattled Guans, and various owls, so we weren't surprised when he shouted for us a few hours later. From the back porch of the refuge with clear views out over the eastern lowlands we spotlighted a male Swallow-Tailed Nightjar swooping back and forth in the clearing, tail streamers rattling like a kite.
The Gray-Breasted Mountain-Toucan, like all of the mountain-toucans, has a powerful hold over me. Gorgeously patterned, it moves stealthily and is always surprising to find even at its well-known sites on the eastern slope. I've only encountered the bird three times, at Tapichalaca Reserve, the Cajanuma Entrance to Podocarpus National Park, and at Guango Lodge, but each encounter was rich and prolonged as I was able to follow the birds through the forest, watch them in the scope, or photograph them. I'll always treasure first finding a pair far below the access road to Cajanuma and then chasing after a bus that was leaving the park carrying Paul Greenfield, artist of the Birds of Ecuador, and his birding tour group; every member of his group shook my hand in gratitude!
The Ocellated Antbird is fairly widespread in Central and Southern America, but it's the most impressive of the obligate antswarm followers that I've seen, or at least had a good look at (I've only caught the White-Plumed Antbird out of the corner of my eye without binoculars). There's nothing more subtle but spectacular in the rainforest than the sight of a half-dozen species of antbirds gathered around a swarm of army ants with their dark eyes gleaming and tails pumping in expectation of an arthopod dashing out from the leaf litter. It's an incredibly fragile scene, though, as the slightest sound or movement scatters the birds deep into the understory, where they'll remain much longer than you'll care to wait. Amazingly at Jocotoco's Rio Canandé Reserve I found a family of Ocellated Antbirds foraging away from a swarm, their huge blue ocular patches and ornate orange and black mantles captivating in the low light. I watched them for over an hour as they cautiously moved about and still wasn't satisfied.
The Waved Albatross is basically pelagic but famously breeds on the Galápagos Islands, where it engages in elaborate courtship rituals with its heavy long yellow bill. Like all albatrosses, the bird is magnificent in flight as it soars for hours on stiff outstretched wings that span over two meters. A few mating pairs also breed on Isla de la Plata, a small island a few hours' boat ride off the western coast, where Aimee and I saw one incubating an egg that had been laid directly on the ground. The ride out to the island was spectacular as we passed several migrating humpback whales on the way, the males in full display as they breached and slapped the surface of the ocean with their tail and fins. Once on the island, to reach the nesting albatross we had to hike for several hours passing nesting Blue-Footed and Nazca Boobies and spotting other good birds along the way, including Short-Tailed Woodstar, Gray-and-White Tyrannulet, and Red-Billed Tropicbird.
Honorable mention: Black-and-Chestnut Eagle, Ocellated Tapaculo, Club-Winged Manakin, Rufous-Bellied Seedsnipe, Rufous-Headed Woodpecker, Peruvian Antpitta, Orange-Breasted Fruiteater, Masked Mountain-Tanager, Long-Wattled Umbrellabird, Ecuadorian Hillstar, Blue-Whiskered Tanager, Gray-Winged Trumpeter, Pinnated Bittern, Gray Tinamou, Ornate Hawk-Eagle, Noble Snipe, White-Tipped Sicklebill, Striated Antthrush, Barred Antthrush, Andean Cock-of-the-Rock, Scarlet-Breasted Dacnis, White-Capped Tanager, Bicolored Antvireo, Tanager Finch, Golden-Plumed Parakeet, Giant Conebill, Chestnut-Breasted Wren, Purple-Throated Cotinga, White-Capped Dippe, Moss-Backed Tanager, Black-Crested Tit-Tyrant, Scarlet-and-White Tanager.
Mashpi Reserve: November 27, 2009
The endemic birds species of the northwestern foothills are fast becoming my favorite in Ecuador, but it's not easy to find good habitat that supports them. The huge Mindo-Nambillo and Maquipacuna Reserves are mostly subtropical forest; Milpe Bird Sanctuary, while at the appropriate altitude, doesn't have much flat forest habitat; and the sites along the Ibarra-San Lorenzo road are fast becoming either obsolete due to illegal logging or unsafe due to the influx of refugees from Colombia. Rio Canande Reserve and the Botrosa Road are excellent sites for lower foothill species, but classic northwestern foothills birding is growing harder to come by each year. The Pacto Road, which leads out to the new Mashpi Reserve, is now almost entirely deforested, and only one modest hilltop remains, uniquely swathed in rich mossy forest.
Although colonists are moving into the area and rapidly cutting timber and clearing land, the birding continues to be outstanding. Aimee and I visited this site a few months ago as I had received word that the rare and local Indigo Flowerpiercer was being seen regularly at a certain road cut that was covered with dense flowering shrubs. On that morning we found the flowerpiercer without any trouble but were more impressed with the prevalence of the Moss-Backed Tanager, Black-Chinned Mountain-Tanager, and Glistening-Green Tanager, all Choco endemics. Still short a few northwestern foothill species on my life list, I returned the day after Thanksgiving arriving in the late morning and birding in heavy fog until the early evening.
True to the site's reputation, the endemics were omnipresent in the roadside forest despite the late hour and the recent low precipitation levels. At several different stops I totaled an impressive number of endemics including, Orange-Breasted Fruiteater, Brown Inca, Toucan Barbet, Moss-Backed Tanager, Glistening-Green Tanager, Pacific Tuftedcheek, Yellow-Collared Chlorophonia, Club-Winged Manakin, Choco Warbler, and Violet-Tailed Sylph; another pair of birders reported they had Indigo Flowerpiercer as well, although I didn't look for it again. To find all these species at single unprotected site is simply remarkable; should it eventually be cleared, then hopefully Mashpi Reserve will carry the fire of northwestern foothill birding.
Notable birds seen: White-Whiskered Hermit, Brown Inca, Violet-Tailed Sylph, Golden-Headed Quetzal, Toucan Barbet, Smoky Brown Woodpecker, Pacific Tuftedcheek, Spotted Barbtail, Scaly-Throated Foliage-Gleaner, Spotted Woodcreeper, Slaty Antwren, Slaty-Capped Flycatcher, Fulvous-Breasted Flatbill, One-Colored Becard, Orange-Breasted Fruiteater, White-Bearded Manakin, Club-Winged Manakin, Black-Billed Peppershrike, Sepia-Brown Wren, Gray-Breasted Wood-Wren, Choco Warbler, Three-Striped Warbler, Yellow-Collared Chlorophonia, Glistening-Green Tanager, Flame-Faced Tanager, Moss-Backed Tanager, Summer Tanager, Tricolored Brush-Finch.
Although colonists are moving into the area and rapidly cutting timber and clearing land, the birding continues to be outstanding. Aimee and I visited this site a few months ago as I had received word that the rare and local Indigo Flowerpiercer was being seen regularly at a certain road cut that was covered with dense flowering shrubs. On that morning we found the flowerpiercer without any trouble but were more impressed with the prevalence of the Moss-Backed Tanager, Black-Chinned Mountain-Tanager, and Glistening-Green Tanager, all Choco endemics. Still short a few northwestern foothill species on my life list, I returned the day after Thanksgiving arriving in the late morning and birding in heavy fog until the early evening.
True to the site's reputation, the endemics were omnipresent in the roadside forest despite the late hour and the recent low precipitation levels. At several different stops I totaled an impressive number of endemics including, Orange-Breasted Fruiteater, Brown Inca, Toucan Barbet, Moss-Backed Tanager, Glistening-Green Tanager, Pacific Tuftedcheek, Yellow-Collared Chlorophonia, Club-Winged Manakin, Choco Warbler, and Violet-Tailed Sylph; another pair of birders reported they had Indigo Flowerpiercer as well, although I didn't look for it again. To find all these species at single unprotected site is simply remarkable; should it eventually be cleared, then hopefully Mashpi Reserve will carry the fire of northwestern foothill birding.
Notable birds seen: White-Whiskered Hermit, Brown Inca, Violet-Tailed Sylph, Golden-Headed Quetzal, Toucan Barbet, Smoky Brown Woodpecker, Pacific Tuftedcheek, Spotted Barbtail, Scaly-Throated Foliage-Gleaner, Spotted Woodcreeper, Slaty Antwren, Slaty-Capped Flycatcher, Fulvous-Breasted Flatbill, One-Colored Becard, Orange-Breasted Fruiteater, White-Bearded Manakin, Club-Winged Manakin, Black-Billed Peppershrike, Sepia-Brown Wren, Gray-Breasted Wood-Wren, Choco Warbler, Three-Striped Warbler, Yellow-Collared Chlorophonia, Glistening-Green Tanager, Flame-Faced Tanager, Moss-Backed Tanager, Summer Tanager, Tricolored Brush-Finch.
Cumbayá Reservoir: November 22, 2009
Cumbayá Reservoir is another migrant trap, located in a suburban community in the interandean valley east of Quito. I used to live very near here actually, but never bothered to check around the reservoir for birds as there is little native vegetation except for a few bushes and trees. Checking the observation database at Aves Ecuador, though, I noticed some recent good finds, including Yellow-Green Vireo, White-Cheeked Pintail, and Sand Martin. Last Sunday afternoon, I found Blue-Winged Teal on the water, Spotted Sandpiper patrolling the shore, Barn Swallow feeding over the water, and Sand Martin perched on some wires overhead. Other interesting sightings here during the last few months include Tropical Mockingbird and Saffron Finch; the latter is normally restricted to Loja Province, but Aimee and I found a pair in September on the nearby Ciclovia just behind Colegio Menor.
Notable birds seen: Blue-Winged Teal, Spotted Sandpiper, Vermilion Flycatcher, Sand Martin, Barn Swallow, Hooded Siskin.
Notable birds seen: Blue-Winged Teal, Spotted Sandpiper, Vermilion Flycatcher, Sand Martin, Barn Swallow, Hooded Siskin.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Antisana Reserve: November 14-15, 2009
The months of September through December are usually cold and wet in the highlands, but this year the weather has been shockingly clear and sunny. Day after day the storm clouds fail to appear in the afternoon, and the sun blazes on as the air pollution in Quito builds to insupportable levels. The paucity of precipitation has created an energy crisis in Ecuador, which runs primarily on hydroelectric power and purchases electricity from neighboring Peru and Colombia. Economically and politically, then, these are challenging times for this modest Andean country. For the intrepid adventurer, though, the extended summer has allowed for extensive exploration in the highlands, where the paramo is unseasonably dry and navigable.
My friend Mark Thurber, author of Climbing and Hiking in Ecuador, recently proposed a weekend trip into Antisana Reserve, where we were to trek in to the base of a little-climbed peak called Plaza de Armas, camp, summit the following morning, and then hike back to El Tambo, a hamlet off the road near Papallacta Pass. Normally, this would be a disastrous time for such a trip, but this year it made perfect sense as Antisana has been visible from Quito throughout the day these last few weeks. The reserve is, of course, the last refuge of the Andean Condor in Ecuador, and our party had the most awesome condor sighting imaginable an hour short of our campsite. Spread wide along a steep ridge, we watched dumbstruck as a juvenile and two adult Andean Condors made pass after pass in the air just over our heads. Indeed, Ron Mustain, the senior member of our group, claimed he was close enough to jump on the back of one as it soared by right underneath where he was standing.
Camping out in the paramo is always a risky endeavor as temperatures regularly drop below freezing at night and thunderstorms are not uncommon. Fortunately, the skies continued to be clear as we settled around our campfire and listened to the Andean Snipes calling around us in the growing darkness. The ground was covered in frost the following morning when Mark, Louis, and I set out to ascend the rocky 4500m peak rising from our campsite. Hustling up a long and scenic ridge, we took in great views of Variable Hawks and Carunculated Caracaras as they rode the early morning thermals. Nearing the top, we startled a pair of Rufous-Bellied Seedsnipes that arched magnificently in flight ahead of us, landing just at the base of the summit pyramid. Approaching cautiously, I managed to get close enough to capture their gorgeous plumage in a photograph before they took to the air again, this time diving far below us and calling boisterously all the way.
The hike back to civilization was just as fine as on the way in, if a little less inspiring. Who would want to leave such a spectacular scene with all of Ecuador's famous peaks forming a dramatic background for such hallowed and iconic wildlife? The birds were only part of the spectacle, too, as White-Tailed Deer were sighted on multiple occasions; our guide and horse driver even claimed to have startled a Spectacled Bear as we were admiring the condors on the previous afternoon. Passing by the same ridge on the way back, we spotted a pair of condors again, probably the same birds as before, swooping in for a tight landing on a huge, exposed cliff far across the gorge from us. With the sun high in the sky and the mighty peak of Antisana in the background, we could have watched for hours.
Notable birds seen: Andean Condor, Aplomado Falcon, Black-Chested Buzzard-Eagle, Carunculated Caracara, Variable Caracara, Andean Snipe, Rufous-Bellied Seedsnipe, Ecuadorian Hillstar, Blue-Mantled Thornbill, Glowing Puffleg, Many-Striped Canastero, Stout-Billed Cinclodes, Tawny Antpitta, Paramo Ground-Tyrant, Brown-Backed Chat-Tyrant, Red-Crested Cotinga, Grass Wren, Black-Backed Bush-Tanager.
My friend Mark Thurber, author of Climbing and Hiking in Ecuador, recently proposed a weekend trip into Antisana Reserve, where we were to trek in to the base of a little-climbed peak called Plaza de Armas, camp, summit the following morning, and then hike back to El Tambo, a hamlet off the road near Papallacta Pass. Normally, this would be a disastrous time for such a trip, but this year it made perfect sense as Antisana has been visible from Quito throughout the day these last few weeks. The reserve is, of course, the last refuge of the Andean Condor in Ecuador, and our party had the most awesome condor sighting imaginable an hour short of our campsite. Spread wide along a steep ridge, we watched dumbstruck as a juvenile and two adult Andean Condors made pass after pass in the air just over our heads. Indeed, Ron Mustain, the senior member of our group, claimed he was close enough to jump on the back of one as it soared by right underneath where he was standing.
Camping out in the paramo is always a risky endeavor as temperatures regularly drop below freezing at night and thunderstorms are not uncommon. Fortunately, the skies continued to be clear as we settled around our campfire and listened to the Andean Snipes calling around us in the growing darkness. The ground was covered in frost the following morning when Mark, Louis, and I set out to ascend the rocky 4500m peak rising from our campsite. Hustling up a long and scenic ridge, we took in great views of Variable Hawks and Carunculated Caracaras as they rode the early morning thermals. Nearing the top, we startled a pair of Rufous-Bellied Seedsnipes that arched magnificently in flight ahead of us, landing just at the base of the summit pyramid. Approaching cautiously, I managed to get close enough to capture their gorgeous plumage in a photograph before they took to the air again, this time diving far below us and calling boisterously all the way.
The hike back to civilization was just as fine as on the way in, if a little less inspiring. Who would want to leave such a spectacular scene with all of Ecuador's famous peaks forming a dramatic background for such hallowed and iconic wildlife? The birds were only part of the spectacle, too, as White-Tailed Deer were sighted on multiple occasions; our guide and horse driver even claimed to have startled a Spectacled Bear as we were admiring the condors on the previous afternoon. Passing by the same ridge on the way back, we spotted a pair of condors again, probably the same birds as before, swooping in for a tight landing on a huge, exposed cliff far across the gorge from us. With the sun high in the sky and the mighty peak of Antisana in the background, we could have watched for hours.
Notable birds seen: Andean Condor, Aplomado Falcon, Black-Chested Buzzard-Eagle, Carunculated Caracara, Variable Caracara, Andean Snipe, Rufous-Bellied Seedsnipe, Ecuadorian Hillstar, Blue-Mantled Thornbill, Glowing Puffleg, Many-Striped Canastero, Stout-Billed Cinclodes, Tawny Antpitta, Paramo Ground-Tyrant, Brown-Backed Chat-Tyrant, Red-Crested Cotinga, Grass Wren, Black-Backed Bush-Tanager.
Cayambe-Coca Reserve: November 8, 2009
On this fine Sunday morning I was back behind the Termas de Papallacta yet again in search of the Crescent-Faced Antpitta. With good sound recordings and detailed directions on the exact site where this highly-localized bird was recently found, there was little left but luck needed to finally see this beautiful, diminutive antpitta. Fortunately, Ecuador came through with a few extra obstacles, as I wasn't allowed to drive on the entrance road to the reserve and forced to walk 5km to the site. When I arrived exhausted and expectant, a large birding group was working the road while a mixed flock hung around the area for what seemed like an hour. Finally, it was my turn to work the site, and I first climbed deep within the elfin forest to have a better chance of seeing the bird if it responded to playback. Fifteen minutes later I had two gorgeous Crescent-Faced Antpittas in the tree overhead, their bold streaking and facial patterns simply breathtaking in the low light.
Notable birds seen: Black-Chested Buzzard-Eagle, Crescent-Faced Antpitta, Black-Chested Mountain Tanager.
Notable birds seen: Black-Chested Buzzard-Eagle, Crescent-Faced Antpitta, Black-Chested Mountain Tanager.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Chone Region: November 3, 2009
The modern story of Manabi Province is a sad one. Driving from the city of Santo Domingo out west to the coast, you pass through hundreds of thousands of hectares of deforested land. Only a few decades ago, this region was swathed in humid lowland forest; Harpy Eagles were even found on occasion. But with the introduction of industrial agriculture, most notably the successful production of bananas along the base of the Andes, colonizers rapidly cleared most of the province in hopes of profiting from another fruit or vegetable boom. Unfortunately, the total loss of natural vegetation disrupted the precipitation cycle, much like it's doing in the Brazilian Amazon, and most of the province was rendered parched and unable to support even the most modest forms of agriculture. Now, only thirsty cows roam where over 600 bird species once did, and the people of Manabi have fled to wetter provinces like Esmeraldas.
The southwestern part of Manabi province also forms the conjunction of two important bioregions, the Choco and Tumbes bioregions, and this area has a much different natural climate from the central part of the province and is still home to patches of dry tropical forest. Descending to the town of Chone and continuing to Bahia de Caraquez or further south to Portoviejo, you see brown hills enclosed in leafless, thorny brush with an occasional Ceiba tree standing solitary and bare. These trees look like they are straight out of a Dr. Seuss book with their huge, hollow trunks and sickly green bark that allows for photosynthesis during the dry season when the tree has no leaves. This unique habitat continues southwards, albeit in a much degraded manner, through the southwestern provinces of Ecuador and into northwestern Peru, forming one of the most endemic-rich bird regions in the world.
To really have a chance of seeing the Tumbes endemic bird species you need to visit the region in the rainy season when the deciduous forest springs alive with green leaves, insects, and bird song. It's also best to visit a reserve, such as Machalilla National Park, Cerro Blanco, Manglares-Churute National Park, or Jorupe Reserve, where the forest understory is still relatively intact. The area around Chone isn't on par with these other sites; it's simply a great place for spotting resident and migratory shorebirds and waterfowl, as the Chone River forms a massive wetlands area and estuary.
Segua Marsh is a well-known, if not oft-visited, site for birders in Ecuador, but any roadside pool in the region is potentially good for birding, sometimes providing much closer looks than you would have from the observation area at the marsh proper. Driving back and forth to the coast last holiday weekend, I would pull over every few kilometers at another shallow pool, sometimes finding hundreds of birds compromising over a dozen species. Black-Bellied and Fulvous Whistling-Duck, Great and Snowy Egrets, Black-Necked Stilt, Blue-Winged Teal, and Wattled Jacanas occurred in great quantities. Little Blue Heron, Glossy Ibis, and Least Grebe were also present, although in small numbers. Granted, it's not always the best idea to set up your scope on the side of the road in Manabi Province, but besides a few turned heads I provoked very little reaction from the local Choneros.
Just getting out of the car, though, gives you the chance to pick up a new bird, even if it is a Tumbesian trash bird. Consider this male Black-Lored Yellowthroat that I spotted as it was signing and foraging in some shrubbery alongside a pool. Aimee was also excited about a group of Pacific Parrotlets that landed on the electricity wires above our heads as we scanned another roadside pool. Granted this probably isn't the type of birding you hope to do should you come to Ecuador, but it can be a welcome change to see thousands of birds out in the open instead of only catching glimpses of a few while birding from inside dense cloudforest.
Notable birds seen: Wattled Jacana, Black-Necked Stilt, Great Egret, Snowy Egret, Blue-Winged Teal, Black-Bellied Whistling-Duck, Fulvous Whistling-Duck, Glossy Ibis, Osprey, Savanna Hawk, Long-Tailed Mockingbird, Green Kingfisher, Magnificent Frigatebird, Neotropic Cormorant, Pacific Parrotlet, Vermilion Flycatcher, Masked Water-Tyrant, Black-Lored Yellowthroat.
The southwestern part of Manabi province also forms the conjunction of two important bioregions, the Choco and Tumbes bioregions, and this area has a much different natural climate from the central part of the province and is still home to patches of dry tropical forest. Descending to the town of Chone and continuing to Bahia de Caraquez or further south to Portoviejo, you see brown hills enclosed in leafless, thorny brush with an occasional Ceiba tree standing solitary and bare. These trees look like they are straight out of a Dr. Seuss book with their huge, hollow trunks and sickly green bark that allows for photosynthesis during the dry season when the tree has no leaves. This unique habitat continues southwards, albeit in a much degraded manner, through the southwestern provinces of Ecuador and into northwestern Peru, forming one of the most endemic-rich bird regions in the world.
To really have a chance of seeing the Tumbes endemic bird species you need to visit the region in the rainy season when the deciduous forest springs alive with green leaves, insects, and bird song. It's also best to visit a reserve, such as Machalilla National Park, Cerro Blanco, Manglares-Churute National Park, or Jorupe Reserve, where the forest understory is still relatively intact. The area around Chone isn't on par with these other sites; it's simply a great place for spotting resident and migratory shorebirds and waterfowl, as the Chone River forms a massive wetlands area and estuary.
Segua Marsh is a well-known, if not oft-visited, site for birders in Ecuador, but any roadside pool in the region is potentially good for birding, sometimes providing much closer looks than you would have from the observation area at the marsh proper. Driving back and forth to the coast last holiday weekend, I would pull over every few kilometers at another shallow pool, sometimes finding hundreds of birds compromising over a dozen species. Black-Bellied and Fulvous Whistling-Duck, Great and Snowy Egrets, Black-Necked Stilt, Blue-Winged Teal, and Wattled Jacanas occurred in great quantities. Little Blue Heron, Glossy Ibis, and Least Grebe were also present, although in small numbers. Granted, it's not always the best idea to set up your scope on the side of the road in Manabi Province, but besides a few turned heads I provoked very little reaction from the local Choneros.
Just getting out of the car, though, gives you the chance to pick up a new bird, even if it is a Tumbesian trash bird. Consider this male Black-Lored Yellowthroat that I spotted as it was signing and foraging in some shrubbery alongside a pool. Aimee was also excited about a group of Pacific Parrotlets that landed on the electricity wires above our heads as we scanned another roadside pool. Granted this probably isn't the type of birding you hope to do should you come to Ecuador, but it can be a welcome change to see thousands of birds out in the open instead of only catching glimpses of a few while birding from inside dense cloudforest.
Notable birds seen: Wattled Jacana, Black-Necked Stilt, Great Egret, Snowy Egret, Blue-Winged Teal, Black-Bellied Whistling-Duck, Fulvous Whistling-Duck, Glossy Ibis, Osprey, Savanna Hawk, Long-Tailed Mockingbird, Green Kingfisher, Magnificent Frigatebird, Neotropic Cormorant, Pacific Parrotlet, Vermilion Flycatcher, Masked Water-Tyrant, Black-Lored Yellowthroat.
Isla Corazon: November 2, 2009
Isla Corazon is a heart-shaped island located near the mouth of the Chone River estuary. As it is blanketed in mostly mature mangroves, the island is loaded with birds, most notably thousands of nesting Magnificent Frigatebirds. The fishermen of nearby Puerto Portovelo have reforested part of the island and are actively involved in its conservation, maintaining a boardwalk and observation tower on the island itself and conducting boat tours of the mangroves and the frigatebird colony. Two-hour tours are $9 per person and easy to set up, if you're visiting coastal Manabi Province. From the town of San Vincente, which is just across the bay from the city of Bahia de Caraquez, just drive a few kilometers inland towards Chone, where you'll see a sign promoting Isla Corazon. Tours at high tide allow you to pass through channels in the island by boat while tours at low tide circle the island instead. The latter are much better for birding, as herons and shorebirds can be seen out in the open, feeding in the mudflats.
Unfortunately, I didn't figure this out in time for our visit during a recent holiday weekend, mistakenly choosing to come in the afternoon after the tide had been out all morning. While we did see hundreds of nesting Magnificent Frigatebirds, we saw relatively few other birds as they were either hidden deep within the mangroves or feeding along the exposed banks of the estuary. While the local guides were certainly knowledgeable about the ecosystem and its history, they didn't seem mcuh attuned to the interests and needs of birders, although I understand that at least one of the guides is proficient in bird identification. It didn't matter much to me anyway, as I have seen most of the common birds found in the coastal mangroves here in Ecuador, excepting some of the difficult crakes and rails, of course.
The sun was low in the sky as we concluded our tour of the island, during which we had good looks at the Mangrove Warbler, Striated Heron, and Green Kingfisher. Overhead small groups of Tricolored Herons were flying in to roost on the island for the evening, while a large group of adult White Ibis made its way out towards the coast. A few Royal Terns were also fishing the estuary, their deep and graceful wing beats in perfect cadence with the wind chop on the water below. The site is a far cry from the Caroni Bird Sanctuary in Trinidad, for example, but our visit definitely had its moments.
Notable birds seen: Neotropic Cormorant, Tricolored Heron, White Ibis, Magnificent Frigatebird, Royal Tern, Green Kingfisher, Mangrove Warbler.
Unfortunately, I didn't figure this out in time for our visit during a recent holiday weekend, mistakenly choosing to come in the afternoon after the tide had been out all morning. While we did see hundreds of nesting Magnificent Frigatebirds, we saw relatively few other birds as they were either hidden deep within the mangroves or feeding along the exposed banks of the estuary. While the local guides were certainly knowledgeable about the ecosystem and its history, they didn't seem mcuh attuned to the interests and needs of birders, although I understand that at least one of the guides is proficient in bird identification. It didn't matter much to me anyway, as I have seen most of the common birds found in the coastal mangroves here in Ecuador, excepting some of the difficult crakes and rails, of course.
The sun was low in the sky as we concluded our tour of the island, during which we had good looks at the Mangrove Warbler, Striated Heron, and Green Kingfisher. Overhead small groups of Tricolored Herons were flying in to roost on the island for the evening, while a large group of adult White Ibis made its way out towards the coast. A few Royal Terns were also fishing the estuary, their deep and graceful wing beats in perfect cadence with the wind chop on the water below. The site is a far cry from the Caroni Bird Sanctuary in Trinidad, for example, but our visit definitely had its moments.
Notable birds seen: Neotropic Cormorant, Tricolored Heron, White Ibis, Magnificent Frigatebird, Royal Tern, Green Kingfisher, Mangrove Warbler.
Lalo Loor Reserve: November 1, 2009
Managed by the Ceiba Foundation, Lalo Loor Dry Forest Reserve is located in Manabí Province near the coastal town of Jama, just off the Ruta del Sol. While there is a lot of degraded habitat in the area, including many strange and beautiful Ceiba trees, few sites along this stretch of the coast offer the understory vegetation required to support a full range of bird species from the ground to the canopy, as on most private land domestic animals graze freely. In addition, as the reserve is located right between the Chocó and Tumbes bioregions, these modest 200 hectares contain a remarkable amount of plant and bird diversity, with both semi-humid and extremely dry micro-climates found all within the narrow confines of the property. Given that the Pacific Royal Flycatcher is on the reserve's bird list and that I was staying nearby at Canoa, a small but fun fishing village, for the holiday weekend, a half-day visit was definitely in order.
Having arrived in the morning before any of the guards, I made my way onto the trails cautiously, not wanting to overstep my bounds. Within minutes I had forgot that I was essentially trespassing, as a male Great Antshrike was moving through the dense understory. A huge raptor caught my attention next as it flew up from the ground into a mature Ceiba tree, whose green bark allows for photosynthesis even in the dry season when the tree has no leaves. Upon further inspection, the raptor was a male Hook-Billed Kite, its odd but impressive bill distinctly visible at a distance. Before plunging into denser forest, I took a few moments to appreciate a male Peruvian Meadowlark that was displaying and calling vigorously out in the open; these common but attractive birds are as characteristic of the region as the delightful Pacific Hornero and gregarious Pacific Parrotlet.
It wasn't long before I came across a nice understory mixed flock with Buff-Throated Foliage-Gleaner, Plain Antvireo, Western Slaty-Antshrike, and Olivaceous Piculet, the latter a diminutive woodpecker that I had never seen before. Slaty Antwren, Scale-Crested Pygmy-Tyrant, and Black-Tailed Flycatcher seemed to be everywhere I looked, too. A pair of Summer Tanagers moved overhead as I finally directed my gaze upwards, upon which I saw a large primate looking back at me. As it turns out, the reserve is literally crawling with monkeys, and I would be accompanied by a troop of Spider Monkeys for most of my visit. Usually animated to begin with, they appeared to be enjoying the fruits of the Cecropia tree in particular, and I took some good photographs of them really chowing down.
Ultimately, I didn't find many of the Tumbes bird specialists that I was hoping to see, as the more common birds were typical of more humid than dry lowland forest. Indeed, there was neither sight nor sound of the Pale-Browed Tinamou, Gray-Cheeked Parakeet, Baird's Flycatcher, or Pacific Royal Flycatcher. I did, on the other hand, get very close to a noisy group of Rufous-Fronted Wood-Quail, which was surprising given the bird's distribution in the field guide. At any rate, the reserve makes for a productive half-day visit should you happen to be in the area, and it's an interesting place for non-birders as well as many informative signs are posted along the main trails. Hopefully, I'll make a follow-up visit sometime during the rainy season between December and May.
Notable birds seen: Hook-Billed Kite, Ecuadorian Ground-Dove, Croaking Ground-Dove, White-Tipped Dove, Pacific Parrotlet, Ecuadorian Trogon, Blue-Crowned Motmot, Golden-Olive Woodpecker, Olivaceous Piculet, Buff-Throated Foliage-Gleaner, Plain-Brown Woodcreeper, Streak-Headed Woodcreeper, Olivaeous Woodcreeper, Plain Xenops, Plain Antvireo, Dot-Winged Antwren, Great Antshrike, Western Slaty-Antshrike, Black-Tailed Flycatcher, Streaked Flycatcher, Masked Tityra, White-Bearded Manakin, Rufous-Browed Peppershrike, Lesser Greenlet, Ecuadorian Thrush, Tropical Gnatcatcher, Gray-and-Gold Warbler, Thick-Billed Euphonia, Summer Tanager, White-Shouldered Tanager, Yellow-Rumped Cacique, Peruvian Meadowlark.
Having arrived in the morning before any of the guards, I made my way onto the trails cautiously, not wanting to overstep my bounds. Within minutes I had forgot that I was essentially trespassing, as a male Great Antshrike was moving through the dense understory. A huge raptor caught my attention next as it flew up from the ground into a mature Ceiba tree, whose green bark allows for photosynthesis even in the dry season when the tree has no leaves. Upon further inspection, the raptor was a male Hook-Billed Kite, its odd but impressive bill distinctly visible at a distance. Before plunging into denser forest, I took a few moments to appreciate a male Peruvian Meadowlark that was displaying and calling vigorously out in the open; these common but attractive birds are as characteristic of the region as the delightful Pacific Hornero and gregarious Pacific Parrotlet.
It wasn't long before I came across a nice understory mixed flock with Buff-Throated Foliage-Gleaner, Plain Antvireo, Western Slaty-Antshrike, and Olivaceous Piculet, the latter a diminutive woodpecker that I had never seen before. Slaty Antwren, Scale-Crested Pygmy-Tyrant, and Black-Tailed Flycatcher seemed to be everywhere I looked, too. A pair of Summer Tanagers moved overhead as I finally directed my gaze upwards, upon which I saw a large primate looking back at me. As it turns out, the reserve is literally crawling with monkeys, and I would be accompanied by a troop of Spider Monkeys for most of my visit. Usually animated to begin with, they appeared to be enjoying the fruits of the Cecropia tree in particular, and I took some good photographs of them really chowing down.
Ultimately, I didn't find many of the Tumbes bird specialists that I was hoping to see, as the more common birds were typical of more humid than dry lowland forest. Indeed, there was neither sight nor sound of the Pale-Browed Tinamou, Gray-Cheeked Parakeet, Baird's Flycatcher, or Pacific Royal Flycatcher. I did, on the other hand, get very close to a noisy group of Rufous-Fronted Wood-Quail, which was surprising given the bird's distribution in the field guide. At any rate, the reserve makes for a productive half-day visit should you happen to be in the area, and it's an interesting place for non-birders as well as many informative signs are posted along the main trails. Hopefully, I'll make a follow-up visit sometime during the rainy season between December and May.
Notable birds seen: Hook-Billed Kite, Ecuadorian Ground-Dove, Croaking Ground-Dove, White-Tipped Dove, Pacific Parrotlet, Ecuadorian Trogon, Blue-Crowned Motmot, Golden-Olive Woodpecker, Olivaceous Piculet, Buff-Throated Foliage-Gleaner, Plain-Brown Woodcreeper, Streak-Headed Woodcreeper, Olivaeous Woodcreeper, Plain Xenops, Plain Antvireo, Dot-Winged Antwren, Great Antshrike, Western Slaty-Antshrike, Black-Tailed Flycatcher, Streaked Flycatcher, Masked Tityra, White-Bearded Manakin, Rufous-Browed Peppershrike, Lesser Greenlet, Ecuadorian Thrush, Tropical Gnatcatcher, Gray-and-Gold Warbler, Thick-Billed Euphonia, Summer Tanager, White-Shouldered Tanager, Yellow-Rumped Cacique, Peruvian Meadowlark.
Segua Marsh: October 31, 2009
Segua Marsh is an important wetland system in Manabí Province, located just a few minutes southwest of the city of Chone. While the area is intensively farmed for rice and fished for shrimp, there is a remarkable variety of ducks, grebes, shorebirds, and herons to be found here, making it a worthwhile visit for any birder looking to boost his country list. The best viewing point, especially in the dry season, is located on the road from Chone to San Vincente, just a few kilometers past the town of San Antonio, where a large sign indicates the location of an observation tower a few hundred meters off the road towards the marsh (the tower isn't of much use in the dry season, when birders can approach the shoreline much closer on foot). In the rainy season, the birds are considerably less concentrated, and good viewing conditions can be found along various roadside pools, whether on the road to San Vincente or Tosagua.
During a recent holiday weekend, I made my first visit to the marsh while on the way to Canoa, a small coastal village that's becoming increasingly popular with tourists and Ecuadorians. Leaving Quito well before dawn to avoid the traffic, I arrived at the marsh just before 9am with high expectations, having read extensively about the birding potential here, particularly in Roger Ahlman's well-known country report. As usual, the site was devoid of any other birders, and only a few fisherman were working this side of the marsh in their dugout canoes. A little unsure about where to start birding, I parked my car near the tower and set out on foot past a series of shallow pools, where Striated Heron, Wattled Jacana, and Green Kingfisher were common. Looking out towards the marsh, I could see thousands of Great and Snowy Egrets, Blue-Winged Teal, Neotropic Cormorants, and Black-Necked Stilts; undoubtedly, a pass with my scope would reveal many more species, too. Baffled by the presence of so many birds, I finally focused on a huge group of Wood Storks that were flying overhead while emitting a series of deep grunts. Surely, there were hundreds in flight and roosting in some nearby trees, where Black-Crowned Night-Heron was also common.
My attention then turned to the numerous Snail Kites that were perched on posts around the marsh, their slender hooked bills distinct in profile. Throughout the morning they could be heard vocalizing harshly above the shrill calls of the Wattled Jacanas and Black-Necked Stilts. After noting a pair of shy Limpkins stalking around a nearly dry pool, I spotted an odd-looking heron poking its head up out of some verdant cover. Almost immediately I recognized this as the rare and local Pinnated Bittern, as it was behaving exactly like the Least Bittern I had seen at Sani Lodge a few months ago. I watched transfixed for the next half an hour as it slowly stalked through the heavily vegetated pool, pausing on occasion to stretch its neck skyward in alert. Amazingly I would see five individual Pinnated Bitterns this morning, as they were all concentrated in several shallow pools near the observation tower. I imagine they're much more difficult to located in the rainy season.
Walking west along the shore, I finally set up my scope and scanned the marsh, noting multitudes of Black-Bellied and Fulvous Whistling-Ducks, several Cocoi Heron, and a single Osprey. Thoroughly enjoying myself, I looked around in awe at my surroundings, where barren, dry hills encircled this thriving, green center of life. Then, breaking my reverie, I realized that the fisherman I saw earlier were trying to break into my car. Chone is, of course, famous for being a rough and tumble city, mythically populated by beautiful women and threatening men. In fact, one of my Canadian colleagues married a Chonera and had warned me not to take my personal security for granted while traveling through the region. Anyway, after some long-distance shouting and staring down, the fisherman and I settled our differences, and I returned to birding, albeit a little rattled at this point.
Fortunately, the marsh had one more surprise in store for me, as I scanned another large group of Black-Necked Stilts through my scope: a handful of Glossy Ibis were busy feeding with their heads down. While found in many places throughout the world, these subtle but beautiful birds are only casual vagrants to southwestern Ecuador, although they have been recorded before at Segua Marsh. After a while several other small groups of ibises flew in, offering a good opportunity to photograph their distinct silhouettes in flight.
Notable birds seen: Wood Stork, Limpkin, Pinnated Bittern, Wattled Jacana, Black-Necked Stilt, Cocoi Heron, Great Egret, Snowy Egret, Blue-Winged Teal, Black-Bellied Whistling-Duck, Fulvous Whistling-Duck, Glossy Ibis, Black-Crowned Night-Heron, Osprey, Snail Kite, Savanna Hawk, Long-Tailed Mockingbird, Green Kingfisher, Magnificent Frigatebird, Neotropic Cormorant, Pacific Parrotlet, Sooty-Crowned Flycatcher, Vermilion Flycatcher, Masked Water-Tyrant, Tropical Gnatcatcher, Black-Lored Yellowthroat.
During a recent holiday weekend, I made my first visit to the marsh while on the way to Canoa, a small coastal village that's becoming increasingly popular with tourists and Ecuadorians. Leaving Quito well before dawn to avoid the traffic, I arrived at the marsh just before 9am with high expectations, having read extensively about the birding potential here, particularly in Roger Ahlman's well-known country report. As usual, the site was devoid of any other birders, and only a few fisherman were working this side of the marsh in their dugout canoes. A little unsure about where to start birding, I parked my car near the tower and set out on foot past a series of shallow pools, where Striated Heron, Wattled Jacana, and Green Kingfisher were common. Looking out towards the marsh, I could see thousands of Great and Snowy Egrets, Blue-Winged Teal, Neotropic Cormorants, and Black-Necked Stilts; undoubtedly, a pass with my scope would reveal many more species, too. Baffled by the presence of so many birds, I finally focused on a huge group of Wood Storks that were flying overhead while emitting a series of deep grunts. Surely, there were hundreds in flight and roosting in some nearby trees, where Black-Crowned Night-Heron was also common.
My attention then turned to the numerous Snail Kites that were perched on posts around the marsh, their slender hooked bills distinct in profile. Throughout the morning they could be heard vocalizing harshly above the shrill calls of the Wattled Jacanas and Black-Necked Stilts. After noting a pair of shy Limpkins stalking around a nearly dry pool, I spotted an odd-looking heron poking its head up out of some verdant cover. Almost immediately I recognized this as the rare and local Pinnated Bittern, as it was behaving exactly like the Least Bittern I had seen at Sani Lodge a few months ago. I watched transfixed for the next half an hour as it slowly stalked through the heavily vegetated pool, pausing on occasion to stretch its neck skyward in alert. Amazingly I would see five individual Pinnated Bitterns this morning, as they were all concentrated in several shallow pools near the observation tower. I imagine they're much more difficult to located in the rainy season.
Walking west along the shore, I finally set up my scope and scanned the marsh, noting multitudes of Black-Bellied and Fulvous Whistling-Ducks, several Cocoi Heron, and a single Osprey. Thoroughly enjoying myself, I looked around in awe at my surroundings, where barren, dry hills encircled this thriving, green center of life. Then, breaking my reverie, I realized that the fisherman I saw earlier were trying to break into my car. Chone is, of course, famous for being a rough and tumble city, mythically populated by beautiful women and threatening men. In fact, one of my Canadian colleagues married a Chonera and had warned me not to take my personal security for granted while traveling through the region. Anyway, after some long-distance shouting and staring down, the fisherman and I settled our differences, and I returned to birding, albeit a little rattled at this point.
Fortunately, the marsh had one more surprise in store for me, as I scanned another large group of Black-Necked Stilts through my scope: a handful of Glossy Ibis were busy feeding with their heads down. While found in many places throughout the world, these subtle but beautiful birds are only casual vagrants to southwestern Ecuador, although they have been recorded before at Segua Marsh. After a while several other small groups of ibises flew in, offering a good opportunity to photograph their distinct silhouettes in flight.
Notable birds seen: Wood Stork, Limpkin, Pinnated Bittern, Wattled Jacana, Black-Necked Stilt, Cocoi Heron, Great Egret, Snowy Egret, Blue-Winged Teal, Black-Bellied Whistling-Duck, Fulvous Whistling-Duck, Glossy Ibis, Black-Crowned Night-Heron, Osprey, Snail Kite, Savanna Hawk, Long-Tailed Mockingbird, Green Kingfisher, Magnificent Frigatebird, Neotropic Cormorant, Pacific Parrotlet, Sooty-Crowned Flycatcher, Vermilion Flycatcher, Masked Water-Tyrant, Tropical Gnatcatcher, Black-Lored Yellowthroat.
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