Showing posts with label Eastern Lowlands. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eastern Lowlands. Show all posts

Monday, July 5, 2010

Yasuni National Park: June 29-July 2, 2010

Yasuni National Park is arguably the most biodiverse place in the world, although its approximately 10,000 square kilometers of humid forest are severely threatened by oil production, illegal logging, and colonization. While avian diversity here is spectacular with close to 600 species present in the park, tree, amphibian, and bat diversity is even more impressive, especially on a small scale, where in just one hectare of forest there are more tree, shrub, and liana species than anywhere else in the world. Interestingly enough, the park is also home to several indigenous groups, namely the Huaorani, including small groups of uncontacted people. Visiting the edges of the park is relatively easy from a base at one of the many jungle lodges along the lower Napo River; exploring the park at length is considerably more complicated as access is limited to a handful of research stations and villages located within the park boundaries.

Given its size, the Napo River functions as a barrier for some birds, with certain species only found to the north and others only to the south of the huge river, such as the Chestnut-Belted and Ash-Throated Gnateaters. In addition, much of the forest along the southern side of the Napo is terra firma, while the forest on the northern side where most of the lodges are located is varzea forest, or forest that is seasonally flooded. This creates an even stronger impression of there being different avifauna on either side of the river. Although I had visited the southern side of the river several times, birding excellent terra firma forest for several days, most of the birds I was hoping to encounter on my trip to the eastern lowlands were more likely to be found here within the park boundaries, especially along the trails behind the park's famous parrot and parakeet clay licks. Both Sacha and Sani Lodges include full-day excursions to the park in their birding programs, so on four separate days my guides and I took a motorized canoe and box lunches to see what we could find.

On our first day here, Oscar and I briefly stopped at one of the river's many islands on our way to the trails behind the parakeet clay lick. Here we found many island specialists that I was still missing from my country list, including the Lesser Wagtail Tyrant, Fuscous Flycatcher, and White-Bellied Spinetail. We also encountered a Small-Billed Elaenia, an uncommon austral migrant, in the tall grasses along the edge of the island. In the park itself, it was disappointingly quiet, and it took us less than ten minutes to walk a stretch of trail that had taken us two hours to walk several years ago on a previous visit as there had been so much bird activity. Again, there was no response from either the Great Jacamar, Collared Puffbird, Rufous-Capped Antthrush, or Striped Manakin at their many territories along the trails, and we didn't find any army antswarms either. Nevertheless, we pushed on deeper into the park searching for the Ochre-Striped Antpitta in the hilly terrain, finding the Yellow-Billed Jacamar, White-Eyed Tody-Tyrant, Banded Antbird, and Black-Bellied Cuckoo along the way. Perhaps the best bird seen on the day was a group of Gray-Winged Trumpeters that were headed towards us along the trail, the iridescent feathers on the chest of one individual clearly visible as it paused in front of us before dashing into the forest on its powerful legs.

Our itinerary was more or less the same on our second day in the park, and we stopped again at the same river island, this time to connect with the diminutive Gray-Breasted Crake, which we successfully spotted in dense ground cover. Along the same trails in the park, we first located a silent Brown Nunlet waiting motionless for its prey to pass by. Then, we had nice views in the scope of another birding group that had lined up a calling Sapphire Quail-Dove. The thrill of the morning, though, was certainly discovering a huge group of army ants, forming a swarm that wasn't well-attended by birds but was definitely exciting. Several scorpions were chased out of their cover in the roots of a tree as ants attacked them, and a variety of unusual birds came by to capture insects fleeing from the swarm, including the Yellow-Billed Nunbird, Wire-Tailed Manakin, and Rufous-Tailed Foliage-Gleaner. We also noted several antbirds in the area, although they were very wary of our presence, including the Sooty, Bicolored, and White-Plumed Antbirds. Although this wasn't a classic antswarm, we were heartened by our luck in at least finding ants, and perhaps our positive attitude yielded one final good bird before the rain started for the day, a pair of massive Great Jacamars responding nicely to playback.

On our third day in the park, Oscar and I headed to a different network of trails, located significantly upriver from the clay licks and called Providencia. We found a few good birds along the way as we wound through flooded forest in our motorized canoe, including the Olive-Faced Flatbill and Cinnamon-Throated Woodcreeper. Once on the trails, bird activity seemed low yet again, until a Rufous-Capped Antthrush finally responded to Oscar's repeated trolling. Calling aggressively as it perched in the open at several locations around us, the bird yielded superb looks and even some photographs, although a digiscope would have captured the moment better. Buoyed by this sighting, we then encountered another antswarm, getting exquisite views of the White-Plumed Antbird as it surveyed the scene intently. Amazingly, a male Striped Manakin was heard calling nearby, which we located with a bit of effort and watched feeding on berries in the understory as it hopped up from below. Now that we had established some momentum, the birds seemed to just keep coming, and I picked up several new antwrens in quick succession with Oscar's help, Dugand's and Long-Winged Antwrens.

Our attention was then drawn to a pair of calling birds in some dense ground cover that turned about to be the impressive Undulated Antshrike, a massive and beautifully patterned bird. Both the male and female were seen out in the open as they pumped their tails and called in irritation while responding to Oscar's deft use of his recording equipment. This encounter was certainly one of the big surprises of the trip, as the antshrike is described as being rare and local in the field guide. Next, while tracking down a group of male Blue-Backed Manakins, we heard an Ochre-Striped Antpitta calling in the distance. This large and strikingly colored antpitta was the only antpitta species I had yet to see or hear in Ecuador (I have now seen them all except for the Bicolored Antpitta, which was heard-only along the La Bonita Road), and so we set off to find it immediately after hearing its call. Oscar and I had discussed the challenges of actually seeing this bird at great length already, as it runs along the forest floor without pause making it extremely difficult to spot. As it turns out, a pair of birds were calling and responding well to Oscar's recordings, indeed covering a lot of ground between calls. We set up low on a hill where the undergrowth wasn't too dense and waited for the antpitta to run by, which it did, pausing uncharacteristically on a fallen tree trunk to look around. Then, it absconded into dense ground cover, where I amazingly found it after scanning for a few minutes through my binoculars. I watched it call for a while, admiring its rich orange chest and black-striped belly, while Oscar marveled over a group of White-Bellied Spider Monkeys that were causing a commotion in the canopy above us.

Buzzing from this much sought-after encounter, I had little time to reflect as Oscar directed my attention towards a pair of Lunulated Antbirds that were calling nearby. These antbirds are rarely found away from antswarms but responded aggressively to playback, and I had great looks at a male calling at close range. At this point it was well past midday, and I was in danger of missing my ride to Sani lodge, so we hustled back to the river along the trail that had yielded so many terrific birds in just a few hours. Indeed, it had been one of my best mornings ever birding in Ecuador and easily made up for an entire week of relatively low bird activity. While there had been no sign of the Hairy-Crested Antbird, Collared Puffbird, or Reddish-Winged Bare-Eye, we had witnessed many of the avian treasures of Yasuni National Park, where I would still spend yet another day with Domingo, my guide at Sani Lodge.

Notable birds seen: Yellow-Headed Caracara, Black Caracara, Spix's Guan, Gray-Winged Trumpeter, Gray-Breasted Crake, Rufous-Sided Crake, Collared Plover, Sapphire Quail-Dove, Blue-and-Yellow Macaw, Scarlet-Shouldered Parrotlet, Black-Bellied Cuckoo, Ladder-Tailed Nightjar, Great-Billed Hermit, Straight-Billed Hermit, Gould's Jewelfront, Yellow-Billed Jacamar, Great Jacamar, Brown Nunlet, Yellow-Billed Nunbird, Golden-Collared Toucanet, Cinnamon-Throated Woodcreeper, Rufous-Tailed Foliage-Gleaner, Black-Tailed Leaftosser, Undulated Antshrike, Plain-Throated Antwren, Ornate Antwren, Long-Winged Antwren, Dugand's Antwren, Banded Antbird, Spot-Winged Antbird, Warbling Antbird, Sooty Antbird, White-Plumed Antbird, Lunulated Antbird, Bicolored Antbird, Scale-Backed Antbird, Rufous-Capped Antthrush, Ochre-Striped Antpitta, Ash-Throated Gnateater, Golden-Headed Manakin, Blue-Backed Manakin, Striped Manakin, Wire-Tailed Manakin, Amazonian Umbrellabird, Small-Billed Elaenia, Lesser Wagtail-Tyrant, White-Eyed Tody-Tyrant, Olive-Faced Flatbill, Fuscous Flycatcher, Drab Water-Tyrant, Musician Wren, Long-Billed Gnatwren, Slate-Colored Grosbeak.

Sani Lodge: June 2-5, 2010

To be honest, after five days of strenuous birding with Oscar Tapuy at Sacha Lodge, as well as having just completed one of the best mornings of birding I've ever had in Ecuador, I was ready to return to Quito. Still, I had made arrangements to stay three more days down river at Sani Lodge, and I wondered if perhaps my luck was turning on this trip. Another day in Amazonia is another chance to see a Harpy Eagle, I also figured, and I certainly wasn't going to see much of interest back in the capital city. When the covered canoe picked me up from the Sacha boat house, though, and I saw Domingo's welcoming smile, I felt rejuvenated as if I had just arrived in the eastern lowlands. Domingo is a freelance bird guide who works primarily for Sani Lodge, and although he doesn't carry a Leica scope or even an iPod, I've seen better birds with him than with any guide I've worked with, as he prefers to discover birds in the forest instead of attracting them. The oxbow lake at Sani is of the most beautiful and timeless landscapes, too, and would make the perfect place for my final reflections on living, and birding, in Ecuador.

Before heading out that afternoon, Domingo and I shaped the itinerary for the next couple of days, discussing the birds I was looking for and his recent observations in the area. Remarkably, he told me about a trail on the south side of the Napo that led to a Black-Necked Red-Cotinga lek, passing through good territories for the Point-Tailed Palm-Creeper and Wing-Banded Antbird, where he had also seen the Rufous-Vented Ground-Cuckoo and Amazonian Royal Flycatcher on several occasions. This sounded too good to be true but definitely worth a morning's visit. Then, we discussed the canopy tower, where he had seen a Harpy Eagle three months ago, perched in a tree only fifty meters away. While Harpy and Crested Eagles are sometimes surprised on the forest floor as they're eating prey that's too heavy to carry back up to the canopy, towers and walkways give birders the best chance to see these extremely rare raptors, unless there is a known nest in the area. Domingo said there was also a territory for the Varzea Mourner nearby, and we could paddle through varzea and bird the Coto Trail in the afternoon. In the meantime, we could search for the Collared Puffbird and Black Bushbird in several spots behind the lodge, as well as visit another river island for Barred Antshrike and Plain-Crowned Spinetail and search for owls, such as the Black-Banded Owl, after dinner. Even if I only saw a few of the birds we mentioned, it would be an amazing stay.

As it turns out, Domingo had never seen the cotingas displaying at the site himself, as his cousin had told him about the lek, having passed it many times on his way to hunt and fish in the forest south of the Napo River. We tried to get there as early as we could, but it still took us several hours as we had to first travel from the lodge to the river, then cross the river to his cousin's property, and finally hike an hour along the trail. Sadly, there was no sign of the cotinga, which is one of Ecuador's most spectacular birds from what I've read and heard. Happily, a pair of Wing-Banded Antbirds responded immediately to playback, offering good but quick looks at one of the more difficult antbirds in the country. In addition, a pair of Ochre-Striped Antpittas were calling along the trail throughout the morning, undoubtedly running through the forest with no chance of being seen. We made a half-hearted attempt to chase one down and succeeded in trapping it in an impossible dense patch of ground cover without managing the slightest glimpse of the bird. Several displaying male Blue-Backed Manakins was a noteworthy observation, but the bird of the morning was almost certainly a male Gould's Jewelfront bathing in the dew-coated moss covering the bark of a small tree. Domingo and I watched flabbergasted as this glorious hummingbird preened just a few meters in front of us, its brilliant plumage changing color with each movement. We missed the other megabirds sometimes found along the trail, but I told Domingo that if the lek is a sure thing, then birders will definitely visit Sani more often, as the only other lek I've heard of in Ecuador is a significant trek from the pricey Napo Wildlife Center.

To round out the morning, we returned to his father's property on the north side of the Napo to check for a pair of roosting Spectacled Owls that my dad and I had missed in August of last year. As we walked by his father's home, we heard a group of Black-Spotted Bare-Eyes calling and gave chase as they moved quickly deeper into the forest. Although we didn't get good looks at any of the birds, we did find a huge swarm of army ants and decided to return to the site more cautiously after searching for the owls, which were finally where they were supposed to be. Roosting owls, especially the flighty Spectacled Owl, are never a given observation but generally a worthwhile one for attempting, even if it makes for a long hike, you'll definitely see some good birds on the way. When we returned to the swarm, Domingo spotted the antbirds again, and this time we watched one perch for a good twenty seconds before dashing away. The Black-Spotted Bare-Eye is ornately patterned and strangely graced with a red eye patch instead of the more typical blue one; I can say that it's definitely worth chasing for days until you finally get good looks at one. The sun was blazing in the sky when we pulled up at the river island, which was devoid of activity except for a pair of dandy Lesser Wagtails and the ubiquitous White-Bellied Spinetail. We must have disturbed a dozen roosting Ladder-Tailed Nightjars, too, before giving up our search for the Barred Antshrike and returning to the lodge for lunch.

After coming up empty on yet another attempt for the Collared Puffbird, we hit a site along the entrance canal to the lodge for the Long-Tailed Potoo. Domingo assured me that he had a failsafe stakeout for the bird, which would respond to playback at dusk by perching out in the open above the canal. Of course, we missed it, but we did see three Amazonian Umbrellabirds in the late afternoon, returning back over the Napo River for the night with a group of Russet-Backed Oropendolas. On the following morning, our visit to the tower got off to a good start with a sighting of a scarce austral migrant, Swainson's Flycatcher, in the canopy of the same tree as the tower. Pied Puffbird, Yellow-Browed Tody-Flycatcher, and Black-Bellied Thorntail were other good observations, but then it started to rain, continuing for the next three hours as we waited it out in our ponchos in the company of a pair of Eastern Sirystes that were feeding on mosquitoes, it appeared. Finally, the weather cleared and we descended to the canoe, paddling towards the Coto Trail for my final afternoon birding in Ecuador.

When it rains in the morning and then clears up at midday, there is often a noticeable boost in bird activity in the afternoon, and I kept my fingers crossed as we got started, soon after encountering a group of trogons at the dock, including Amazonian Violaceous, Amazonian White-Tailed, and Black-Tailed Trogons. Our luck held, as over the next few hours we found the Gray-Winged Trumpeter, Undulated Antshrike, Brownish Twistwing, Chestnut-Winged Foliage-Gleaner, Blue-Black Grosbeak, White-Chested Puffbird, Lanceolated Monklet, Black-Faced Antthrush, Black-Tailed Flycatcher, and Rufous-Breasted Piculet. The monklet in particular was a terrific sighting as we approached it slowly to within two meters as it perched motionlessly while waiting for its prey; this was likely the same bird that my dad and I observed in August along the same trail and in the very same spot. The low-hanging sun seemed to penetrate through the forest more than usual as we returned to the canoe late in the afternoon, having missed some great birds like Salvin's Curassow but having seen many others, as well as a troop of Common Wooly Monkeys.

Domingo paddled us back to the lodge slowly but methodically, a journey that took over an hour in the fading light. I sat back in my chair as outraged Hoatzins flew back and forth over the narrow canals while pairs of Black-Capped Donacobius flicked their tails in annoyance at our passing. A group of Rufescent Tiger-Herons flushed up as we paddled by, and a near-adult Agami Heron did the same a few meters later as we drifted by almost at arm's length, certainly too close for my telephoto lens to capture. Once we reached Challuacocha, the famed oxbow lake that the lodge borders, the sun had already set, and a group of Capped Herons were roosting already in a cecropia tree along the shore. Aimee and I had visited Sani Lodge six years ago on our first trip to the eastern lowlands, well before I had any serious interest in birds, and I found it remarkable how much further I could peer through the forest than before. Back then, the dark lake under the setting sun was all I could see, a fabulous curtain behind which great knowledge and truth and especially mystery must lie. Since then, I had seen and learned so much about birds and the forest beyond, and the many sudden evening sounds and subtle flickers of movement had eventually become familiar. Still, I found it strange how the mysterious unseen and unheard beckons even more strongly now.

Notable birds seen: Rufescent Tiger-Heron, Agami Heron, Capped Heron, Cocoi Heron, Snail Kite, Double-Toothed Kite, Yellow-Headed Caracara, Speckled Chachalaca, Common Piping-Guan, Marbled Wood-Quail, Sungrebe, Limpkin, Gray-Winged Trumpeter, Wattled Jacana, Yellow-Billed Tern, Black Skimmer, Ruddy Quail-Dove, Black-Headed Parrot, Hoatzin, Ferruginous Pygmy-Owl, Spectacled Owl, Ladder-Tailed Nightjar, Short-Tailed Swift, Neotropical Palm-Swift, Straight-Billed Hermit, White-Necked Jacobin, Black-Bellied Thorntail, Gould's Jewelfront, Golden-Tailed Sapphire, Black-Tailed Trogon, Amazonian Violaceous Trogon, Ringed Kingfisher, Amazon Kingfisher, Green Kingfisher, Green-and-Rufous Kingfisher, White-Chinned Jacamar, Pied Puffbird, White-Chested Puffbird, Lanceolated Monklet, Black-Fronted Nunbird, Yellow-Billed Nunbird, Swallow-Winged Puffbird, Chestnut-Eared Aracari, Channel-Billed Toucan, White-Throated Toucan, Rufous-Breasted Piculet, Chestnut Woodpecker, White-Bellied Spinetail, Chestnut-Winged Hookbill, Chestnut-Winged Foliage-Gleaner, Black-Tailed Leaftosser, Spot-Winged Antshrike, Banded Antbird, Silvered Antbird, Black-Spotted Bare-Eye, Wing-Banded Antbird, Black-Faced Antthrush, Ash-Throated Gnateater, Slender-Footed Tyrannulet, Lesser Wagtail-Tyrant, Yellow-Browed Tody-Flycatcher, Brownish Twistwing, Gray-Crowned Flatbill, Black-Tailed Flycatcher, Swainson's Flycatcher, Cinnamon Attila, Eastern Sirystes, White-Browed Purpletuft, Plum-Throated Cotinga, Amazonian Umbrellabird, Wire-Tailed Manakin, Blue-Crowned Manakin, Blue-Backed Manakin, Black-Capped Donacobius, White-Breasted Wood-Wren, Rufous-Bellied Euphonia, White-Lored Euphonia, Opal-Rumped Tanager, Opal-Crowned Tanager, Masked-Crimson Tanager, Slate-Colored Grosbeak, Red-Capped Cardinal, Blue-Black Grosbeak, Lesser Seed-Finch.

Sacha Lodge: June 28-July 2, 2010

My final birding trip in Ecuador, at least for the time being, was to the eastern lowlands, where I have spent comparatively little time birding during my six years living in the country, as it's easily the most expensive and difficult region to bird. For the independent birder, the options in the eastern lowlands are few, as sites are remote and require several types of transport, including plane and boat, to reach. Plus, birding in Amazonia is as challenging as it gets, with approximately 600 species present and almost all bird detection and identification done by ear. Sure, you could learn the birds here by yourself, but it would take many months and plentiful access to a variety of unique habitats, including varzea forest and river islands, not to mention terra firma forest canopy, one of the more inaccessible bird habitats in the world. The shortcut is to select from a range of jungle lodges located along the lower Napo River, the finest of which certainly must be Sacha Lodge. These lodges provide expert bird guides and diverse itineraries designed so that visiting birders can experience many of the different ecosystems of far western Amazonia.

Coordinating with both Sacha and Sani Lodges, I set up a week-long itinerary with two of the best guides in the region focusing on terra firma forest on the southern side of the Napo, where I hoped to expand my country list and track down a few rare species. My targets for the trip were mostly spectacular and little-seen birds, such as the Harpy Eagle, Agami Heron, Rufous-Vented Ground-Cuckoo, Ochre-Striped Antpitta, and Black-Necked Red-Cotinga, all species that would be on any visiting birder's lists. But there were a few other classic eastern lowlands birds that I hadn't seen yet, including the Collared Puffbird, Long-Billed Woodcreeper, Black-Spotted Bare-Eye, and Striped Manakin. I figured a week should be enough time to sweep up these glaring omissions on my country list and give me a final chance to find a megabird or two. And if the trip ever felt extravagant, I would simply rationalize it as my last hurrah, a well-deserved reward for years of hard work driving myself to remote locations in Ecuador and slowly learning birds on my own.

Several weeks in advance I forwarded my desired bird list to Oscar Tapuy, who I had worked with on my previous visit to Sacha Lodge and who is the most renowned and experienced native guide in the eastern lowlands. We discussed our plan for the next four days during the two-hour boat ride from Coca to the lodge, deciding that we would spend two and a half days on the south side of the Napo in search of antswarms and obligate antswarm followers as well as terra firma forest birds that are more territorial. We would also spend some time walking the trails behind the lodge itself as well as pass one morning on the canopy walkway. Making short visits to varzea forest and river island habitat would round out my program, which I hoped wouldn't be adversely affected by weather. (While Ecuador's weather cycles are diverse and complex, the eastern lowlands can be quite wet still in June and July, only really drying out in August.)

Considering all the time that I spent in protected forest on the south side of the Napo River during the week, I've decided to describe my experiences there in a separate post about Yasuni National Park. I'll use the following paragraphs to relay my experiences on the north side of the Napo, within the 2000 hectare grounds of the lodge itself. Access to the lodge from the Napo involves a twenty-minute walk along a boardwalk that passes through varzea forest. Although this path, called El Anden, is heavily trafficked by arriving and departing guests as well as by workers bringing in food and supplies, during the early morning and late evening hours it is excellent for birding, offering more mobility than a canoe ride through the several varzea canals branching off from Pilchicocha, the oxbow lake that the lodge borders. Considering the number of trips we made off the lodge property, Oscar and I passed through El Anden many times, the highlight of which was one afternoon when we got clear but quick looks at both Gray-Necked Wood-Rail and Cinereous Tinamou, coaxing out a Hauxwell's Thrush, a scarce austral migrant, as well. Several times along this path we also encountered fast-moving groups of Black-Spotted Bare-Eyes, perhaps the most spectacular antbird in the Ecuadorian Amazon, but failed to see them clearly as they stayed lowed to the ground and didn't respond to playback. Before dawn on one morning we heard the rare Buckley's Forest-Falcon calling in the distance, although it wasn't responsive to playback either.

With Jaime, one of the lodge's native guides, paddling us around in a narrow canoe, we made several late-afternoon excursions into La Orquidea, a narrow canal that passes through dense and tangled varzea forest. This is certainly the least strenuous and most magical birding experience I've ever had as birders float silently through flooded forest, acutely aware of every sudden sound and motion around them. On both occasions, we trolled for Long-Billed and Striped Woodcreepers, hoping to surprise a feeding Agami Heron along the way. Finally, a pair of Long-Billed Woodcreepers responded to playback, coming in close and putting on quite a show as they flipped their strangely-shaped heads about and responded with their powerful and haunting calls. While we never encountered an Agami Heron in this fashion, we did surprise a juvenile one morning in pre-dawn darkness at the beginning of the Anaconda canal, where Oscar has frequently found them. The bird jumped up onto a fallen palm trunk, frozen in the spotlight for a moment, while I assessed its rapier-like bill and dark-colored plumage. Although it didn't present quite the same image as in the field guide, it was good enough to tick.

Our morning on the canopy walkway, which is one of its kind in Ecuador, was graced with good weather but short on birds. In fact, we spent less than two hours scanning the treetops before Oscar pronounced that we would be better spending our time walking the trails down below. Generously, he first played a recording of the Ferruginous Pygmy-Owl for a few minutes, attracting a swarm of colorful tanagers and allies in the crown of a nearby tree. I clicked away happily on my camera as Gold-and-Green and Masked Tanagers, Purple and Green Honeycreepers, Black-Faced and Blue Dacnis, and Orange-Bellied and Rufous-Bellied Euphonias searched about for the intruder to mob. The commotion even attracted a Zimmer's Flatbill, which was a first for me. The only other noteworthy sighting for me was finding a Dwarf Tyrant-Manakin perched on a treetop, although I would have been content spending the rest of the morning observing familiar birds, considering how unique and privileged is the viewpoint from the walkway.

Unfortunately, the hours we spent walking the trails behind the lodge were decidedly unfruitful, as activity was very low. Only the most common birds were calling, and even then only occasionally, and there were hardly any mixed understory flocks. Oscar was repeatedly dejected as he came away empty after trolling for my target birds, commenting on how quiet and calm the forest was and how it must be the unseasonably wet weather that was reducing bird activity. Granted I was a little frustrated too, if only to have to suffer through listening to the same recording of a Collard Puffbird every five minutes (we never did find one). Thankfully, there were a few surprises to be found along these trails, including this magnificent Lined Forest-Falcon that we flushed from the understory but perched again in some cover nearby. Other notable birds seen or heard here were White-Chested Puffbird, Black-Spotted Bare-Eye, and Black-Banded Owl, the latter heard only.

Ultimately, my visit to the eastern lowlands coincided with a period of low bird activity, but Oscar is probably the best guide to work with in such situations, as he has a wealth of stakeouts to try for skulkers and territorial birds, and he is relentless in his use of playback to draw out shy or quiet birds. Although we didn't have too much to show for three consecutive fourteen-hour days of birding, our final morning on the southern side of the Napo River, to be covered in the next post, made it all worthwhile. From there I would head to Sani Lodge for another two full days of birding terra firma forest, finally concluding my six years of birding Ecuador.

Notable birds seen: Cinereous Tinamou, Cocoi Heron, Agami Heron, Rufescent Tiger-Heron, Greater Yellow-Headed Vulture, Slender-Billed Kite, Double-Toothed Kite, Black Caracara, Lined Forest-Falcon, Laughing Falcon, Spix's Guan, Gray-Necked Wood-Rail, Red-Bellied Macaw, Hoatzin, Pauraque, Short-Tailed Swift, Lesser Swallow-Tailed Swift, White-Necked Jacobin, Gould's Jewelfront, Long-Billed Starthroat, White-Chested Puffbird, Swallow-Winged Puffbird, Scarlet-Crowned Barbet, Chestnut-Eared Aracari, Ivory-Billed Aracari, Golden-Collared Toucanet, Cream-Colored Woodpecker, Long-Billed Woodcreeper, Cinnamon-Throated Woodcreeper, Short-Billed Leaftosser, Black-Tailed Leaftosser, Black-Spotted Bare-Eye, Wire-Tailed Manakin, Dwarf Tyrant-Manakin, Spangled Cotinga, Plum-Throated Cotinga, Amazonian Umbrellabird, Bare-Necked Fruitcrow, Zimmer's Flatbill, Olive-Faced Flatbill, Musician Wren, Rufous-Bellied Euphonia, Opal-Crowned Tanager, Paradise Tanager, Green-and-Gold Tanager, Masked Tanager, Red-Capped Cardinal, Slate-Colored Grosbeak.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

San Martin de el Para Reserve: January 23, 2010

San Martin de el Para is a privately owned 600 hectare reserve in the foothills of the eastern slope of the Andes. Located about 15 km east of the town of Archidona, the reserve is usually birded from a base at Hosteria Paraiso de Orquideas, which is situated along the road to Tena just 2km on the right before Archidona. Although this obscure reserve rarely graces birding trip itineraries, with an exception being those of Andean Birding, it is especially noteworthy for containing forested bamboo habitat, which is difficult to find in eastern Ecuador. Here you'll encounter scarce and local bird specialists such as the Large-Headed Flatbill, Striated Antbird, and Bamboo Foliage-Gleaner, among a general but impressive mixture of eastern lowlands and foothills birds.

Now that the highway is almost entirely paved from Quito to Tena, getting to the eastern foothills is relatively painless, and I made the approximately 200km drive on Friday afternoon after work. After arranging for a guide to accompany me to the reserve the following morning, I bedded down comfortably at the hosteria, which is something of an adventure in itself with a host of animals, both caged and free, inhabiting the premises, including a pair of Spix's Guans just oustide my cabin. While independent visits to the reserve aren't allowed, I was relaxed the following morning in my guide Umberto's company, who didn't know much about birds but was happy to carry my scope around and answer general questions I had about the area. My half-day visit cost $30, which seemed expensive just for access and a trail guide but well worth it considering the excellent birds I observed.

Umberto and I made the drive to the reserve before dawn, passing along a packed dirt and rock road through several Quichua communities and finally over a seriously dilapidated bridge spanning the Rio Hollin, a beautiful tributary of the Rio Napo. As the sun rose, I spent a few hours birding the cleared area at the entrance to the reserve which contained several large fruiting trees and plenty of dense ground cover. Canopy flocks bombarded the area, including Paradise, Green-and-Gold, and Yellow-Bellied Tanagers, the latter being a difficult distinction from the Spotted Tanager unless you see it feeding upside down. After coaxing a pair of White-Browed Antbirds from some dense shrubbery next to the car, I walked backed towards the road, finding a pair of excitable and stunning Golden-Winged Tody-Flycatchers in an overgrown drainage ditch. After combing through another flock for the Lemon-Throated Barbet, which I would miss today, and finding the unique Orange-Fronted Plushcrown instead, I decided it was time to enter the forest too see what I had come for, the bamboo specialists.

Although I had read some negative reports about the quality of the trail, I had no trouble taking the lead from Umberto and setting my own pace as we wound through good secondary and primary forest for the next few hours. Initially, the antbirds dominated the morning, as I first encountered Black-Faced, then Warbling, and finally Spot-Backed Antbirds, all singing from surreptitious positions and difficult to find. Later, I nearly walked right onto a Thrush-Like Antpitta, which was calling from just a few meters away but still nearly impossible to see. A few understory mixed flocks passed us by containing the usual antwrens, woodcreepers, and foliage-gleaners, and I didn't note anything out of the ordinary. After just glimpsing a magnificent pair of calling Scale-Breasted Woodpeckers, we finally reached a large patch of bamboo-dominated forest. Here, I successfully called in a pair of Large-Headed Flatbills with my iPod, and then scored great looks at a female White-Shouldered Antshrike in the undergrowth, all richly colored rufous with its tail pumping cautiously as it emitted a single-note call at uniquely long intervals. Aside from the flocks, I'm not sure whether Umberto saw a single bird that I did while we were on the trail, given that most of them were difficult skulkers. Usually, the guides are the ones seeing all the birds.

Emerging from the forest all of a sudden, having looped back around to the parking area, I realized that I hadn't tried for the Striated Antbird, which I figured I would hear calling at some point, like the similar-looking Long-Tailed Antbird usually does in subtropical forest. Walking back a few hundred meters along the trail, I tried calling it in several places. Within a few minutes I had a response and a delicately-patterned but angry-looking antbird in the bamboo several meters overhead. Rarely can you simply call birds in despite being in the right habitat, but there it was, answering right on call. Elated by my success, I spent the final hour of my visit on a cleared slope high above the parking area, watching mixed flocks pass through the area and periodically checking on a pair of Yellow-Billed Nunbirds that were hanging out in some cecropia trees nearby. A pair of Opal-Crowned Tanagers capped off a terrific and productive day of birding that almost ended badly on the return drive over the bridge, which had fallen into even further disrepair since that morning.

Notable birds seen: Speckled Chachalaca, White-Bearded Hermit, Amazonian White-Tailed Trogon, White-Fronted Nunbird, Yellow-Billed Nunbird, Gilded Barbet, Scale-Breasted Woodpecker, Little Woodpecker, Orange-Fronted Plushcrown, Rufous-Rumped Foliage-Gleaner, Buff-Throated Woodcreeper, White-Shouldered Antshrike, Plain-Winged Antshrike, Short-Billed Antwren, Striated Antbird, White-Browed Antbird, Black-Faced Antbird, Spot-Backed Antbird, Gray Elaenia, Olive-Sided Flycatcher, Golden-Winged Tody-Flycatcher, Large-Headed Flatbill, Chestnut-Crowned Becard, Gray-Capped Flycatcher, Olivaceous Greenlet, Red-Eyed Vireo, Black-Faced Dacnis, Paradise Tanager, Green-and-Gold Tanager, Opal-Crowned Tanager, Scarlet Tanager, Bay-Headed Tanager, Slate-Colored Grosbeak, Crested Oropendola.

Saturday, August 15, 2009

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.