Sani Lodge: An Introduction

Sani Lodge is the best option for hardcore birders on a tight budget to visit the lower Napo River in the eastern lowlands of Ecuador. Compared with Sacha, La Selva, and Napo Wildlife Center, Sani offers a similarly all-inclusive, but less luxurious, package for a little more than half of the price. In fact, many guests choose to camp instead of staying in the cabins, which brings the total cost down to $100 per day (all the camping equipment is provided, and the experience is safer and more comfortable than one might imagine). Of course, the actual birding here is as good as anywhere in the region, and the lodge offers excellent access to all six major habitats found in the Ecuadorian Amazon, as well as a handful of rare birds you probably won't find anywhere else, including the Rufous Potoo and the endemic Cocha Antshrike.

Sani Lodge is entirely owned and operated by the Sani community, one of the indigenous groups found along the lower Napo River, and the reserve boasts 37,000 hectares of pristine humid forest that serve as a corridor between the Cuyabeno and Yasuní National Parks. The thatched-roof facilities are set on the shores of a beautiful oxbow lake, and guests typically enjoy spectacular sunsets from the open-air bar, from which the birding is also quite good. There are two canopy towers, each structured around different ceiba trees, rising above the forest to 30m in height, and a diverse network of trails, several of which describe huge loops through terra firme forest. As with the other lodges, birders will also spend plenty of time on the oxbow lake and in swamps and varzea forest as they travel from the lodge to the Napo or various trailheads by dugout canoe. As a bonus, the lodge also maintains several trails through habitat on an island in the Napo River, which gives birders a chance to pick up a significant number of specialties found nowhere else in Ecuador.

Perhaps the biggest draw for birders, even those who aren't on a tight budget, is the lodge's expert birding guide, Domingo Gualinga. Coming at no additional cost, except for a substantial tip I should hope, Domingo should make even the most anxious twitcher feel at ease. Although he doesn't speak much English, he knows all the birds' English common names and their various calls, as well as many territories of individual birds. While he doesn't have the experience or the equipment of Oscar Tepuy, whom Aimee and I birded with while staying at Sacha Lodge last April, Domingo is definitely of the same caliber, offering an equal degree of dedication and professionalism and probably a bit more enthusiasm and appreciation for the birds themselves. In addition, he was supremely focused on helping me locate birds I've yet to witness in Ecuador, but he was also patient in pointing out and identifying more common birds to my father, who is a novice birder. To put it simply, Domingo is the Man.

Our visit to the lodge was billed as five days and four nights, which amounts to three extremely full days of birding and two half days of travel on the Napo River. Despite our proximity to Yasuní National Park, which is located on the southern side of the Napo River, we spent all of our time birding on Sani territory or on the Napo itself, in terra firme forest, varzea forest, and oxbow lake habitat. Although I had seen well over two hundred species during our stay at Sacha Lodge, I still added over forty to my Ecuador list, including such rarities as the Lanceolated Monklet, Cocha Antshrike, Ornate Hawk-Eagle, Gray-Winged Trumpeter, White-Lored Antpitta, Brown Jacamar, and Rufous Potoo. I also barely missed the White-Plumed Antbird at an ant swarm, which would have bookended my summer in spectacular fashion, having seen the Ocellated Antbird at Rio Canande Reserve soon after school ended in June.

My only reservation about the trip was that I never felt secure that Domingo was exclusively our guide. As Sani Lodge doesn't charge extra for his guiding services, other birders present can be added on to birding groups as the on-site manager sees fit. While my father and I were fortunate that only one other hardcore birder was present during our stay, a young Frenchman with a fine eye, we frequently suffered other guests' attempts to win Domingo away as a generalist guide. I guess birders always seem to get the most out of experiences such as this, and their boundless enthusiasm, relentless activity, and resulting fatigue create a sense of jealousy in the regular tourist who desires a more meaningful and authentic experience in the rainforest.

Sani Lodge, Day 1: August 10, 2009

Even after taking the short flight from Quito to Coca, travel to the lower Napo River is never quick and easy. The river itself is a winding, treacherous affair, and boat drivers must dodge sandbars and trees lying just under the surface in the constantly changing conditions. Fortunately, the birding is generally decent from the boat, as there are many opportunities to scan river islands for shorebirds, swallows, and raptors, among others. After passing the docking compounds for Sacha and La Selva Lodges, we spotted a number of fine birds on several different islands, including the Roseate Spoonbill, Large-Billed Tern, and Black Skimmer. Passing from the Napo to the oxbow lake that Sani is situated on, we also came across several species of kingfisher; in fact, within the first few hours of my stay, I has seen all five species of kingfisher normally encountered in Ecuador: Ringed, Amazon, Green, Green-and-Rufous, and American Pygmy Kingfishers, the latter being the most difficult.

While the other guests were getting settled in their cabins, I was busy patrolling the grounds familiarizing myself with some of the more common birds. The Yellow-Crowned Tyrannulet was calling persistently in the mid-afternoon sun, and the Short-Crested Flycatcher, Silver-Beaked Tanager, and Great and Lesser Kiskadees were readily apparent. Most exciting though was a group of White-Eared Jacamars that noisily shifted position in tall trees surrounding the cleared grounds of the lodge. I followed them from perch to perch with my scope while my father marveled at their cool appearance and boisterous behavior. Shortly thereafter we would be appreciating another jacamar, the White-Chinned Jacamar, viciously snapping up insects from a perch over the water in the quebrada, or passage between the Napo and Challuacocha.

Birding from a dugout canoe is indeed one of the true pleasures in life, and my father warmed to it immediately that evening as we cruised the borders of the lake finding the Hoatzin, Common Potoo, and Black-Capped Donacobius, all of which we would see every day of our stay at Sani. Streams of parrots passed overhead as Domingo and I discussed the chances of seeing the Long-Billed Woodcreeper and Agami Heron, just a few of the varzea specialties I had yet to encounter in Ecuador. Feeling optimistic about the following three days, I didn't bother following up on several species of owls calling later that night, but I did hear what sounded like the Zigzag Heron barking gruffly before I fell asleep.

Notable birds seen: Roseate Spoonbill, Yellow-Headed Caracara, Large-Billed Tern, Black Skimmer, Black-Headed Parrot, Hoatzin, Common Potoo, Green-and-Rufous Kingfisher, American Pygmy Kingfisher, White-Eared Jacamar, White-Chinned Jacamar, Many-Banded Aracari, Channel-Billed Toucan, Yellow-Crowned Tyrannulet, Ochre-Bellied Flycatcher, Gray-Capped Flycatcher, Black-Capped Donacobius.

Sani Lodge, Day 3: August 12, 2009

Back in the dugout at 6am, our first excursion today was to the new canopy tower constructed on the far side of Challuacocha. According to Domingo, the old tower, whose wooden stairs are dangerously decrepit, offers significantly better birding as it provides clearer access to the canopy and is somehow more consistently in the path of moving mixed flocks. Given all the recent rain, though, he insisted that we visit the new tower, which is constructed mostly out of steel and should prove more durable and less harmful to the ceiba tree it incorporates. The ride across the lake was typically dreamy with the Capped Heron and Slender-Billed Kite both crossing our path overhead in the gray dawn.

Given the circumstances, which could keep any birder up all night in expectation, I felt pretty relaxed on the short walk to the base of the tower, stopping to admire a male Black-Faced Antbird singing just in front of us. At this point, I've spent enough time in canopy towers in the eastern lowlands to be familiar with most birds, and the handful of species that I'm missing don't require much more than vigilance and a lot of luck to see. Mostly, I was just excited to take some good photographs with my new telephoto lens, and I was also hoping that my father would have a fulfilling experience, especially having promised him some good raptors to observe.

Already in the canopy of the ceiba tree itself were a number of decent birds, including the Yellow-Browed Tody-Flycatcher, White-Browed Purpletuft, Cobalt-Winged Parakeet, Gray-Crowned Flatbill, Masked Tityra, and White-Lored Euphonia. Unfortunately that was about the peak of bird activity in the tree this morning, and the rest of the time we scrambled to located perched birds in the far distance, which was difficult given the density of the crown we were standing in. Stationing ourselves in different corners of the tower, we managed to add a few good birds to our list before it started to rain again, including Spangled Cotinga, Common Piping Guan, Red-Stained Woodpecker, and Masked Tanager. There's nothing worse than having the prime birding hours in the day being rained out, and we stood around grimly for an hour until the weather cleared.

As the sun came out, bird activity sprang to life again, and a variety of raptors were spotted perching on exposed tree branches to dry out. In the scope we line up the Double-Toothed Kite, Crane Hawk, and Slate-Colored Hawk in succession, and then I found a pair of stunning Blue-and-Yellow Macaws preening in a dead tree. Although no tanager flocks passed within sight, we enjoyed watching a group of Yellow-Tufted Woodpeckers scare off a Buff-Throated Woodcreeper from a hollow in a cecropia tree. My father was absorbed in a group of calling White-Throated Toucans for a while, as Domingo and I looked at each other and raised our eyebrows in lamenting the general lack of uncommon birds this morning. Hopefully, we would have better luck as we returned to the dugout and passed deeper into the varzea at the western end of Challuacocha.

My jaw dropped when I learned that the target bird of our next excursion was one of Ecuador's few endemic bird species, the Cocha Antshrike; in fact, Domingo claimed it was certain that we'd find it as long as we had playback available (guides rarely make this claim because it doesn't offer their clients much of anything except for the occasional extreme disappointment). He took us in the dugout canoe directly to the spot, where after a few minutes of tape, we had a female Cocha Antshrike out in the open several meters away. The male stayed deep within cover but hung around long enough for me to take my camera out and rip off a few shots. Both sexes of this recently discovered antshrike look remarkably similar to the rather common White-Shouldered Antbird, with only voice being dramatically different. Domingo explained that his uncle was part of the original group that found the bird, although he didn't receive any credit for it. Happily, the bird is one of the few South American species to incorporate a Quechua word in its English common name (cocha is a versatile word generally meaning body of water, I believe).

Returning to the lodge for lunch under a blazing sun, we stumbled upon some terrific birds, including the Cocoi Heron, Anhinga, and Least Bittern. We flushed the latter while discussing the breeding Agami Herons that Domingo had seen on the Yasuni River; last winter a boatman had taken him to a small tributary in which thousands of Agami Herons were nesting out in the open. No doubt it was my exclamation that startled the bittern, but instead of flushing away out of site, it remained in the grass on the edge of the lake, raising its head querulously on its long neck until we passed by. Although the Cocha Antshrike was certainly the best bird of the morning, this encounter was the most memorable.

Later that afternoon, we set off into the forest behind the lodge, exploring a confusing network of overgrown trails that had us all feeling lost and overwhelmed, except for Domingo. The birding was typically slow but spectacular, as we started out with the Golden-Headed Manakin, moved onto a Screaming Piha lek, happened upon two Golden-Collared Toucanets passing through the forest, and found the resident juvenile Ornate Hawk-Eagle perched on a branch beside its nest. Despite its young age, the hawk-eagle peered down at us impressively from above, one of its already massive yellow talons visible from below. Domingo told us that the bird had just left the nest recently and would remain in this territory for another year and a half before leaving to establish its own, as adult eagles reproduce only once every two years. At mid-morning on the following day we would hear one of the adults calling insistently and eventually find it perched in the distance before it took flight for the rest of the day.

Pushing deeper into the forest, Domingo heard some obligate antswarm followers calling up ahead. This was the moment I had been waiting for, and I turned excitedly to my father and Adrien, the young Frenchman who accompanied us, to explain what was happening. Plunging into the undergrowth in pursuit of Domingo, I barely caught site of a Bicolored Antbird before the monospecific flock moved on in search of an antswarm, I guess, as there were no ants present. This rather unfulfilling experience was quickly followed by one of those mysterious sightings that make birding so wonderful and addictive. Domingo asked me to play the call of the Brownish Twistwing again in the growing darkness, but the bird that responded and darted about overhead was noticeably slighter and slightly different in behavior from what he expected. Was it the ultra-rare Amazonian Royal-Flycatcher, which has a similar call and habitat? It was too dark to tell, and the bird moved off quickly before we could investigate it further. (For the record, Domingo has seen the Amazonian Royal-Flycatcher only twice before, and I'm familiar with the western slope version, the Pacific Royal-Flycatcher).

Notable birds seen: Anhinga, Least Bittern, Cocoi Heron, Capped Heron, Swallow-Tailed Kite, Slender-Billed Kite, Double-Toothed Kite, Crane Hawk, Slate-Colored Hawk, Ornate Hawk-Eagle, Speckled Chachalaca, Common Piping-Guan, White-Tipped Dove, Blue-and-Yellow Macaw, Chestnut-Fronted Macaw, Great Potoo, Common Potoo, American Pygmy Kingfisher, White-Eared Jacamar, White-Chinned Jacamar, White-Fronted Nunbird, Golden-Collared Toucanet, Red-Stained Woodpecker, Chestnut-Winged Hookbill, Cocha Antshrike, Black-Faced Antbird, Bicolored Antbird, Black-Faced Antthrush, Yellow-Browed Tody-Flycatcher, Gray-Crowned Flatbill, Cinnamon Atilla, Dusky-Capped Flycatcher, Crowned Slaty Flycatcher, Masked Tityra, White-Browed Purpletuft, Screaming Piha, Spangled Cotinga, Bare-Necked Fruitcrow, Purple-Throated Fruitcrow, Golden-Headed Manakin, Masked Tanager, Red-Capped Cardinal.

Sani Lodge, Day 2: August 11, 2009

On the morning of our first day, we motored out to the Napo River island to sweep up the specialists. As every well-researched birder is aware, these large neotropical rivers make for exceptionally dynamic environments: new sediment deposits from Andean runoff quickly turns into sandbars and then islands, which soon become overgrown by grasses pioneer plants that eventually provide enough cover for cecropia trees, all finally being replaced by more diverse vegetation that requires greater shade and nutrients. Of course, a whole range of bird species have adapted to these transitional, initially scrubby habitats, making up a substantial chunk of the eastern lowlands bird list.

Domingo has the island wired and knew exactly where to find some of the more difficult birds, including the Castlelnau's Antshrike and all four spinetail species: Dark-Breasted, Plain-Crowned, Parker's, and White-Bellied Spinetails. But before diving into the densely vegetated island, we spent some time patrolling the open sandy areas, picking up the Least Sandpiper, Lesser Yellowlegs, Collared Plover, Mottle-Backed Elaenia, Mouse-Colored Tyrannulet, and Chestnut-Bellied Seedeater. We also stumbled upon a Ladder-Tailed Nightjar, which made a rather big production of flushing out of our way, giving us great looks at its bold white wing patches before it found another roost.

Stalking through the tall cane grass, we realized quickly how challenging it would be for everyone in our party to see each bird for themselves. It took several minutes for everyone to locate the Olive-Spotted Hummingbird and Little Woodpecker moving rapidly about over our heads, and only Domingo and I had a brief look at a male Castlenau's Antshrike before it darted away. Fortunately, no one cared as much as I did about seeing each and every island specialist, so I shadowed Domingo closely, spotting the Orange-Headed Tanager, Spotted Tody-Flycatcher, and Lesser Hornero without having a chance to point them out to my father. These subtle birds aren't exactly what visiting birders have in mind when they visit the eastern lowlands; fortunately, we also ran into the showy Oriole Blackbird, Chestnut-Eared Aracari, and Orange-Backed Troupial in this unimpressive habitat.

I also earned my place at the front of the line because I was the only one present with audio equipment. Reeling in the Castlelnau's Antshrike, Parker's Spinetail, and Black-and-White Antbird, all for incredibly good looks, secured my place at Domingo's side (it didn't hurt that I was the only one who spoke Spanish either). Just as we were building some momentum, though, it started to rain, and we passed the next few hours standing miserably on the beach in our ponchos. You don't want to flee excellent habitat when it rains, especially considering that shelter is often so far away, but there's not much birding to be done in these situations. Ultimately, the rain drove us back to the docking compound on the shore of the Napo, where we looked around fruitlessly for the Amazonian Umbrellabird before the unseasonably wet weather finally cleared up.

Our next excursion would be up a trail along the nothern shore of the Napo, through good riparian habitat to a stakeout for the White-Lored Antpitta, which I had missed at Sacha. Within a short stretch of 100m we spotted the Crimson-Crested Woodpecker, Orange-Backed Troupial, White-Shouldered Antbird, and Rufous-Headed Woodpecker, the latter being stellar enough for us to abandon a calling Black-Spotted Bare-Eye nearby. After this amazing run, we then irked an aggressive White-Lored Antpitta out of impossibly deep cover, where everyone had terrific looks of the bird calling forcefully from the cane grass. Domingo explained that he's been visiting this site for several years and that the individual bird never fails to respond to playback by approaching the source. With lunch already being served back at the lodge, Domingo promised me we would give the island another go on one of the following afternoons, where I still lacked three spinetails, the Barred Antshrike, and a variety of flycatchers, including the tricky Fuscous Flycatcher, which only he had seen early that morning.

I never like to stop birding on an expensive trip such as this, and so I spent the normally quiet hour after lunch stomping around with my scope in search of more birds. Aside from the common Black-Fronted Nunbird and Violaceous Jay, I didn't see much and probably would have benefited more from a short nap. Regardless, we were soon back in the dugout and on our way to the Rufous Potoo Trail, passing both the Common and Great Potoos on our way. At this point in the trip my father was starting to annoy me by pointing out every Russet-Backed Oropendola and Pale-Vented Pigeon he saw, thinking they were of course some great and special bird and butchering their names when we pointed out otherwise. On the other hand, I had to give him a lot of credit for his remarkable stamina and enthusiasm; it's not like we had spent the morning in one of the canopy towers surrounded by gorgeous tanagers, cotingas, and toucans.

Before you see the Rufous Potoo you'll no doubt be bombarded by images of it, as the lodge promotes the rare bird on its website, postcards, and t-shirts. Seeing the bird in person, though, made me appreciate just how special it is, even among potoos, those well-camouflaged but brazen nocturnal birds. Staring through the scope at the Rufous Potoo, watching it sway almost imperceptibly, I finally realized why it was so unique. Adapted to look like a brown cluster of dead leaves, the bird roosts on horizontal lianas in the understory, its feathers flecked delicately with white in imitation of decaying organic matter. Even more remarkably, the potoo rocks gently on its perch when it detects a threat in its immediate environment, mimicking the subtle movements of leaves blowing in the wind. Before we moved on, Domingo explained the circumstances in which he first discovered the bird and pointed out its different perches in the vicinity.

While the Rufous Potoo definitely made the entire excursion worthwhile, there was still time to search out more birds along the trail through terra firme forest. Although the bird activity was pretty low, we surprised a giant Two-Toed Sloth slowly climbing a tree directly above the trail, marveling at its size and deliberate movements. Next, we wore out a Ruddy Spinetail as we used playback over and over in attempts to get my father a good look. As Domingo was without his laser pointer, he would have to settle for only seeing the bird with his naked eye, still being new to the routine of finding birds in his binoculars. We also gained a difficult perspective on the Wing-Barred Piprites, which looked down on us from high above without giving us a glimpse of its wings. After a Brownish Twistwing proved unresponsive to playback we returned to the dugout, stopping in the near darkness to spotlight a group of roosting Marbled Wood-Quail, their red ocular patches clearly visible, and somewhat angry looking given the circumstances.

Relieved to be out in the open again after the shadowy confines of terra fime forest, we enjoyed a final few birds from the dugout before calling it a day. The lake is busy with birdlife even at night as Parauques and night-herons could be seen and heard while we searched for a Black Caiman along the shore. We finally stumbled across a giant individual getting within a few meters before it thrashed away into the marsh. The experience nicely capped off my father's first day in the Amazon, as he liked to call it.

Notable birds seen: Black-Crowned Night-Heron, Marbled Wood-Quail, Least Sandpiper, Black Skimmer, Rufous Potoo, Pauraque, Ladder-Tailed Nightjar, Rufous-Breasted Hermit, Straight-Billed Hermit, Black-Throated Hermit, Olive-Spotted Hummingbird, Chestnut-Eared Aracari, Chestnut Woodpecker, Rufous-Headed Woodpecker, Little Woodpecker, Crimson-Crested Woodpecker, Lesser Hornero, Ruddy Spinetail, Parker's Spinetail, Castlelnau's Antshrike, Black-and-White Antbird, White-Shouldered Antbird, White-Lored Antpitta, Mottle-Backed Elaenia, Spotted Tody-Flycatcher, Wing-Barred Piprites, Orange-Headed Tanager, Grayish Saltator, Chestnut-Belied Seedeater, Crested Oropendola, Orange-Backed Troupial, Oriole Blackbird.

Sani Lodge, Day 4: August 13, 2009

After some discussion about our main excursion on our final full day, we decided on a combination of varzea and terra firme birding, involving both a long ride in the dugout and some substantial hiking. Another option would have been to visit the parrot and parakeet clay licks on the other side of the Napo River, but after I explained to my father how many tourists clutter up the viewing conditions there, we opted for a more unpredictable but rewarding experience on part of the Coto Trail, where we hoped to find two roosting Crested Owls at the principle destination.

The long dugout ride was peaceful but relatively unproductive in terms of seeing new birds. Fortunately, Adrien was in top form at the back of the canoe, spotting the Chestnut-Capped Puffbird perched motionless in the dense varzea forest. Domingo also pointed out a Speckled Chachalaca, and we had quick but clear looks at a surprised Sungrebe as it dove into cover. After noting the Amazonian White-Tailed Trogon, Gilded Barbet, and Green-and-Gold Tanager, we reached the dock at the far western end of Challuacocha and were ready to begin the Coto Trail.

Just a few minutes later Domingo was producing some deep booming calls from inside his chest, imitating the Salvin's Curassow, I believe. Suddenly, he turned to me and said, "Gray-Winged Trumpeter!" The race was on as we chased them doggedly down the trail back towards the dock, every once in a while catching a quick glimpse of their loose gray flight feathers in the dark greens of the understory. After literally running several hundred meters, we finally caught up with them as they flushed from the ground into the trees above the dock, getting good looks at them before they crossed to the other side of the water. Truly, the Sani community must make a concerted effort not to over hunt their land, as these terrestrial birds have become increasingly rare in Ecuador.

This invigorating experience was a joyful way to begin our hike, and we greeted our next two birds with more than the usual excitement and enthusiasm. First, we discovered the Chestnut-Belted Gnateater, a gorgeous male, bounding about territorially in response to playback, and then we finally caught a male Wire-Tailed Manakin on the lek. The manakin elicited quite a response from Adrien who gasped in amazement at its coloration, although we couldn't make out its tail from a distance. I've heard these manakins have the most incredible display routine, rotating 360 degrees in unison about a bare branch, but as every other lek I've visited has been empty, I was happy just to finally see the bird.

After encountering an understory mixed flock with the Fulvous Shrike-Tanager, Cinereous Antshrike, Black-Banded Woodcreeper, and Chestnut-Wing Hookbill, we heard a noisy racket in the canopy on the other side of the trail. A large group of Ivory-Billed and Lettered Aracaris were following a troop of Common Woolly Monkeys as they crashed through the trees. Adrien then pointed out a White Hawk that was perched impressively in a palm off to the side of the commotion, a great spot from deep inside the forest. As there was a lot to look at, we spent the next half an hour gaping about and taking photographs of the scene while Domingo chirped at the monkeys until they approached us for a closer look.

I have been fixated on antswarms and antbirds for a long time now, so it's difficult for me to talk about what happened next. Suffice it to say that we soon came across an antswarm with at least four antbirds in attendance, all of which I saw clearly except for the White-Plumed Antbird, which for some reason I could never lock onto despite Domingo frantically pointing three of them out with his laser and subsequently scaring them off. This bird has become my top target bird in Ecuador and ultimately shouldn't be that difficult to encounter providing I take a few more trips to the eastern lowlands. Still, I became increasingly more disappointed as the morning drew on, slowly realizing that I had missed an excellent chance to observe this shy but spectacular denizen of terra firme forest.

As we pushed on towards the Crested Owl roost, I found an unabashed Lanceolated Monklet just off the trail and later a Solitary Cacique gleaning insects in the subcanopy above a small stream, both birds being no small consolation. While the owls weren't where they were supposed to be, we did encounter the Purplish Jacamar on the way back to where the swarm had been. Sadly, the ants had moved deeper into a dense marshy area, and the antbirds were impossibly out of reach. I tried to keep my spirits up as we gradually made our way back to the lodge, first spotting an adult Ornate Hawk-Eagle in the distance and then finding two Tropical Screech-Owls roosting in some short palms near the lake. After lunch I even found an active Ferruginous Pygmy-Owl in the swamp behind our cabin, giving chase to a Straight-Billed Woodcreeper. It had been a wonderful morning with some surprising and spectacular birds, but I couldn't help thinking how I would have traded the multiple Bicolored, Scale-Backed, and Sooty Antbirds I had seen at the swarm for just a single glimpse of the White-Plumed Antbird.

As my iPod had become disabled that morning due to the intense humidity, we were left without playback in the afternoon, limiting our birding options somewhat (much to Adrien's dismay this also cost us a good chance at seeing both the Striated Antthrush and Thrush-Like Antpitta that had been calling off the Coto Trail). We agreed to visit another owl roost on Domingo's father's property a half an hour up the Napo and then to hit the river island again for a final shot at the spinetails. After a long but beautiful trip in the afternoon sun, we arrived at the roosting site, where yet again the Spectacled Owls were missing. We also heard a Yellow-Billed Nunbird calling nearby but were helpless to see it without playback, Domingo explained. Amazingly, the Brown Jacamar responded to Domingo's whistling imitation of its call, perching high in a cecropia tree right on the northern bank of the Napo, where I looked for it last time with Oscar Tepuy.

We disembarked from our motorized boat at the opposite end of the island from which we explored previously. The wild screams of Black Caracaras rang out from the cecropia trees as we searched the scrub for signs of the spinetails. This was sort of a lost cause without playback, so we turned our attention to a pair of Spot-Breasted Woodpeckers perched in a nearby tree. After appreciating an Oriole Blackbird that flew into the tree dramatically, we returned the boat to seek out the Amazonian Umbrellabird that can often be seen crossing the Napo River in the late afternoon.

Domingo purposely ran the boat aground on a sandbar that was barely exposed above the surface, allowing us to turn off the motor and taken in the beautiful evening. On the south side of the river a dark thunderstorm was booming, but the sun was shining brilliantly to the north, creating a gorgeous full rainbow that was so close that I couldn't fit but a small part of it in my telephoto lens. We marveled at the Chestnut-Eared Aracari, Blue-Winged Parrotlet, and Plum-Throated Cotinga in the rich light until we finally spotted the Amazonian Umbrellabird crossing downriver, notably larger and less steady in flight than the common Russet-Backed Oropendolas that were streaming overhead. After hearing several more call cow-like from either side of the river, we broke the spell with the motor and returned triumphantly to the lodge.

Notable birds seen: Capped Heron, King Vulture, White Hawk, Ornate Hawk-Eagle, Black Caracara, Speckled Chachalaca, Sungrebe, Gray-Winged Trumpeter, Blue-Winged Parrotlet, Blue-Headed Parrotlet, Tropical Screech-Owl, Ferruginous Pygmy-Owl, Black-Throated Hermit, White-Necked Jacobin, Olive-Spotted Hummingbird, Glittering-Throated Emerald, Brown Jacamar, Purplish Jacamar, Chestnut-Capped Puffbird, Lanceolated Monklet, Swallow-Winged Puffbird, Gilded Barbet, Chestnut-Eared Aracari, Ivory-Billed Aracari, Lettered Aracari, Spot-Breasted Woodpecker, Chestnut-Winged Hookbill, Black-Banded Woodcreeper, Fasciated Antshrike, Cinereous Antshrike, Scale-Backed Antbird, Sooty Antbird, Bicolored Antbird, Chestnut-Belted Gnateater, Southern Beardless-Tyrannulet, Streaked Flycatcher, Plum-Throated Cotinga, Bare-Necked Fruitcrow, Amazonian Umbrellabird, Wire-Tailed Manakin, Blue-Crowned Manakin, Lawrence's Thrush, White-Breasted Wood-Wren, Musician Wren, Green-and-Gold Tanager, Fulvous Shrike-Tanager, Solitary Cacique, Oriole Blackbird.

Sani Lodge, Day 5: August 14, 2009

Unless you're interested in looking for forest falcons at 4am, there's little opportunity to bird on the last day of a trip to a lodge on the lower Napo River. As flights from Coca to Quito generally leave midday, guests are shuttled out of the lodge before 7am so they have ample time to make the return trip up the Napo. I still had time to bird the grounds for a bit, picking up the Rufescent Tiger-Heron, Chestnut-Fronted Macaw, and Many-Banded Aracari, but before I knew it we were in the boat and jamming up river, quickly passing by Black Skimmers, Great Egrets, and Yellow-Headed Caracaras, where before we had lingered to watch.

I had a long chat with Domingo about my birding prospects in the eastern lowlands. Clearly, it is time for me to branch out more and explore different regions on a smaller budget. He recommended a few spots near Tena to try for antbirds, including the Hairy-Crested Antbird, and offered to accompany me on a trip apart from Sani Lodge. He also advised that should I ever return to Sani it would be wise to forward him my target bird list a month or so in advance so he could make note of where certain birds had been appearing. Perhaps next time, we'll make a dent on my revised list: Agami Heron, Salvin's Curassow, Collared Puffbird, Long-Billed Woodcreeper, White-Plumed Antbird, and Wing-Banded Wren.

Notable birds seen: Rufescent Tiger-Heron, Capped Heron, Large-Billed Tern, Black Skimmer, Bat Falcon, Many-Banded Aracari, Red-Capped Cardinal.

Cotopaxi National Park: August 9, 2009

The weekend crowds at Cotopaxi National Park have been growing steadily over the past few years, but the birding remains outstanding. My father and I had plans to climb Ruminahui today, but we made sure to scan the various highlands habitats we passed through for interesting bird activity. No sooner had we stepped out of the car at Limpiopungo, the park's principal wetlands, then we spotted an Andean Condor soaring close overhead. I raced to set up my camera while my dad tracked its progress with his binoculars, remarking on the bird's striking white colar and splendidly splayed primaries. Amazingly, we would later encounter a group of four Andean Condors near the summit cruising along the ridge almost at eye level.

The bird of the day, or at least the most remarkable to me, was the single Curve-Billed Tinamous that crossed our path through the paramo as we approached the peak. I was busy running my mouth when my father pointed out what he described as a quail out in the open a few meters ahead of us. Indeed, a Curve-Billed Tinamous, its head raised high on its long neck, was cautiously striding about, this making only the second time I had encountered this bird despite being in its habitat well over a hundred times. Our incredible streak of seeing scarce birds on this trip would continue later that evening as we completed the long hike by circling the wetlands: two Aplomado Falcons were busy hawking the area, perching on the ground and then flying low directly overhead in the dying light.

Notable birds seen: Curve-Billed Tinamous, Yellow-Billed Pintail, Andean Condor, Variable Hawk, Aplomado Falcon, Ecuadorian Hillstar, Tawny Antpitta, Paramo Ground-Tyrant.

Cabañas San Isidro: August 7-8, 2009

I've been to Cabañas San Isidro a half-dozen times in the last year, and I could still happily stay for a week exploring the area on my next visit. It's a rich, extremely birdy place with classy accommodations and delicious food. When Rudy Gelis, birder and guide extraordinaire, saw me walk my father into the dining hall on the night of our visit, he remarked that this was the ultimate destination to take your family members for them to understand what makes birding in Ecuador so special. A visit to San Isidro encapsulates it all, he implied. Unsurprisingly, then, my father was immediately impressed on our arrival, especially when a few hours later as we sipped beer on the porch of our cabin a Chestnut-Crowned Antpitta hopped by.

Having taken our fill of the mystery owl that drops by the lodge every evening, we spent the following morning enjoying close looks at the birds that visit the outdoor lights in search of insects. Inca Jay, Masked Trogon, Black-Billed Peppershrike, and Subtropical Cacique presented themselves for careful study, and a Strong-Billed Woodcreeper came in briefly before moving on. Unfortunately, the White-Bellied Antpitta didn't show for its morning feeding, so we hit the trails soon after for some difficult but rewarding forest birding. Two feeding Barred Parakeets were undoubtedly the highlight, but my father was also pleased with the Yellow-Vented Woodpecker, Beryl-Spangled Tanager, and Streaked-Tuftedcheek in a mixed flock. Actually, he was happy to lock onto any bird, as he struggled to find them in his binoculars once he had located their position with his naked eye.

We lounged by the hummingbird feeders as it started to rain mid-morning, enjoying the usual visitors as well as the White-Bellied Woodstar, which rarely appears according to the notes in the lodge's bird list; these bumblebee-like hummingbirds always make a powerful impression upon visiting birders. Next, a busy mixed flock moved through the area, which has dramatically changed in appearance due to a recent tree fall, so we followed it behind the dining hall, where we had incredibly close and prolonged looks at a female Crimson-Mantled Woodpecker drilling into a dead tree. I also found a delightful Rufous-Crowned Tody-Flycatcher, but didn't bother to tell my father, who would never have located this elusive, tiny bird in the bamboo as it flitted about.

I ran into Rudy again before we left, who has spent considerable time at Yanayacu Reserve just up the road, and he kindly asked whether there were any birds still missing from my area list. Having picked up the Barred Parakeet earlier that morning and the Oleaginous Hemispingus in a mixed flock on the previous afternoon, I was feeling pretty good, but I asked him anyway about the Bicolored Antvireo, a rare and local species sometimes seen at the lodge. Having heard and seen it just the day before, Rudy explained carefully the exact site and conditions of the sighting, imitating the bird's call with great aplomb. While I still missed the bird on our final excursion, I was touched by the spirit of generosity that seems to pervade the birding community here in Ecuador.

Notable birds seen: Barred Parakeet, Rufous-Bellied Nighthawk, Tawny-Bellied Hermit, White-Bellied Woodstar, Masked Trogon, Crimson-Mantled Woodpecker, Yellow-Vented Woodpecker, Streaked Tuftedcheek, Strong-Billed Woodcreeper, Olive-Backed Woodcreeper, Long-Tailed Antbird, Chestnut-Crowned Antpitta, Long-Tailed Tapaculo, Rufous-Breasted Flycatcher, Rufous-Crowned Tody-Flycatcher, Flavescent Flycatcher, Black-and-White Becard, Black-Billed Peppershrike, Andean Solitaire, Glossy-Black Thrush, Sepia-Brown Wren, White-Sided Flowerpiercer, Oleaginous Hemispingus, Black-Eared Hemispingus, Yellow-Billed Cacique.

Guacamayos Ridge: August 8, 2009

Although it had been raining on and off all day at Cabanas San Isidro, I decided to swing by the Guacamayos ridge for a half hour before we returned to Quito. We arrived with the skies clearing dramatically to the east, with the Antisana and Sumaco-Galeras Reserves streched out gloriously before us. The scene at the ridge has changed recently with the advent of a new parking lot to accompany the old shrine, and there were almost fifty people hanging out and enjoying the view. All the comotion didn't prevent a nice mixed flock from sweeping through right at the entrance to the ridge trail, including a pair of spectacular Green-and-Black Fruiteaters and an impressively large Tyranine Woodcreeper.

Notable birds seen: Tyranine Woodcreeper, Green-and-Black Fruiteater, Lacrimose Mountain-Tanager, Grass-Green Tanager.

Guango Lodge: August 7, 2009

With my novice father in country for an upcoming visit with me to Sani Lodge, located in the eastern lowlands, it made sense to take him on an introductory birding excursion. The upper eastern slope offers a wonderful and diverse package for beginning birders in Ecuador: extreme highlands birding at Papallacta Pass, spectacular hummingbirds and temperate forest birds at Guango Lodge, subtropical forest birding at its best at Cabañas San Isidro, and a little mystery to be had along the Guacamayos ridge. If he didn't fall in love with the activity during these two days, then we would have to take a slightly less rigorous approach in the eastern lowlands than I had hoped.

Happily, he took to birding right away as he marveled at the amazing species on display at the lodge's hummingbird feeders. Sword-Billed Hummingbirds, Long-Tailed Sylphs, and White-Bellied Woodstars darted about, as Tourmaline Sunangels, Chestnut-Breasted Coronets, and Collared Incas held court. On a short walk down to the Rio Papallacta, he impressed me as he spotted our target bird, the Torrent Duck, standing sentry way upstream. After some instruction about how to sift through a mixed flock, we were ready to head down slope, but not before checking in with Mitch Lysinger about his recent trip to endemic-rich northern Peru. Of all the birding guides I've met in Ecuador, Mitch strikes me as the best for his perfect mix of knowledge, enthusiasm, professionalism, and humor. Despite having seen, and heard, all the birds in the region, he always takes the time to engage birders about what they've seen recently.

Notable birds seen: Torrent Duck, Sword-Billed Hummingbird, Tourmaline Sunangel, White-Bellied Woodstar, Turquoise Jay, Mountain Wren, Black-Crested Warbler, Black-Capped Hemispingus, Slaty Brush-Finch, Stripe-Headed Brush-Finch.

Yanacocha Reserve: August 3, 2009

The highlands are rather inhospitable this time of year: the sun blazes all day, scorching the earth brown, and the gusts of wind blow dust around like a sandblaster. The weather doesn't make for very good birding, and the birds themselves seem to struggle as they're buffeted about. Even a pair of enormous Variable Hawks were vanquished from the skies at Yanacocha Reserve this morning, hugging the scrubby hillsides instead of soaring high above. From a considerable distance I thought I saw briefly a resident Peregrine Falcon diving about the rocky cliffs of Pichincha at daybreak, although the white-colored raptor could just as well have been a pale morph of the Variable Hawk getting pummeled by the wind.

Fortunately I still had a few productive hours of birding within the montane forest of the reserve. In the cover mixed flocks moved about quicker than normal, with the Black-Chested Mountain-Tanager being the highlight. Meanwhile Rufous Wrens, Unicolored Tapaculos, and White-Browed Spinetails skulked about the understory, no doubt also noting the change of weather but for different reasons than their canopy counterparts. Indeed, the trails were almost completely dry, with leaves crackling underfoot, which made approaching shy birds particularly difficult. The Andean Guans no doubt heard me coming from many meters away, as they crashed noisily off into deeper cover.

Supposedly, it's the time of year for the rare endemic Black-Chested Puffleg, although I have never had sight nor sound of this hummingbird. Still, I spent a few hours lingering around the hummingbird feeders, playing with my camera in between visits by the Mountain Velvetbreast, another fine hummingbird that seems to be seasonal at the feeders. I hear that the puffleg was regular for a while last year at a private reserve slightly lower down the western slope, called Verdecocha, but somehow I doubt this bird will ever make it onto my list. The elegant Sapphire-Vented Puffleg and smaller Golden-Breasted Puffleg are certainly fine consolation, though.

At midday I walked back to my car for a cup of coffee and encountered a group of lepidopterists loitering about with their nets. Young but committed, they were eagerly erecting tents made of mesh, hoping to capture and study the various butterflies and moths in the reserve. They seemed a bit out of their element, but being around scientists always makes me feel like something of a dilettante, taking the mere act of observing birds so seriously. Regardless of our credentials, I guess we're all out in the field learning about our surroundings, but still I would feel a little more legitimate, and a little less light in the wallet, with a university backing my birding excursions. Anyway, instead of returning home midday, I rode out the afternoon back in the reserve slowly picking up a few good birds, including the Turquoise Jay, Sword-Billed Hummingbird, and Crowned Chat-Tyrant.

As a final note, the reserve is an outstanding, though still difficult, site for antpittas, with five species calling throughout the morning in certain times of the year: the Tawny, Rufous, Chesnut-Naped, Chestnut-Crowned, and Undulated Antpittas. By far the most common, the Rufous Antpitta is still tricky to see, scurrying unpredictably across trails and not responding consistently to playback. On the other hand, I have noted them regularly from the Hummingbird Garden No. 2, at the very beginning of the Polylepis Trail. Here, where a hose with running water has been set up, the antpitta has been found every hour or so moving back and forth across the trail, in search of worms presumably, as this is one of the last antpitta species in Ecuador that still has to find worms for itself!

Notable birds seen: Variable Hawk, Carunculated Caracara, Andean Guan, Mountain Velvetbreast, Sword-Billed Hummingbird, White-Bellied Woodstar, Rufous Antpitta, Smoky Bush-Tyrant, Turquoise Jay, Glossy-Black Thrush, Black-Chested Mountain-Tanager, Stripe-Headed Brush-Finch.