5:30 AM:
Lower deck Tandayapa Lodge. Photo by Lori Fujimoto We start out at dawn, without breakfast, following the trail silently down to the Lodge's antbird blind. The small wooden building holds all twenty of us, and we slip inside and take seats on the floor or lean against the wall. Facing us, the entire side of the building is open, and the only thing that separates us from the outside is a wire screen. A short distance away from the screen and sitting outside on the bare ground is a plastic light box, maybe four feet long and two feet high. The light box has been on all night and by dawn, the omnipresent electrical glow has attracted a huge assortment of insects, particularly moths. Nearly immediately after arriving at the blind, we are alerted to the presence of the first Immaculate Antbird hopping around the light box. Being so close to them yet having the screen between us gives me an odd feeling like I'm watching these birds at a zoo. I assure myself, however, that with the solid wooden walls around us, we are the only ones "caged" in.
Blue-winged Mountain-Tanager. Photo by Morgan Tingley As we wait, several more antbirds appear, and they take turns gorging themselves at the light box. With smoky black plumage and a blue skin patch around its eye, we get unparalleled looks at this species as one plucks moths off of the wire screen mere inches from our faces. Soon after, a Chestnut-capped Brush-Finch appears and takes advantage of the buffet. We're all hoping an antpitta will show up too, but as the sun rises and our stomachs begin to grumble, we decide to head back for breakfast.
7:30 AM:
After breakfast the group splits in two – half with Mark and half with José. I side with the José contingent, and as we start out on the Potoo trail, we immediately come across a Rufous-breasted Antthrush walking along the trail. Antthrushes are notoriously difficult to see well and we're delighted at our luck to have one right on the trail. We each take turns running to the front of the line, watching the Antthrush, and then ducking back to let the next person go. Our elaborate game of leapfrog pays off and everyone in the group gets great glimpses of the bird.
Scaled Fruiteater. Photo by Mark Gurney José takes us hiking higher and higher up in the hills, hoping for the possibility of a very rare White-faced Nunbird that was seen recently on the trails. We don't find a nunbird, but we do get to watch two male Golden-winged Manakins lekking and a few of us catch a fleeting glimpse of a Crimson-rumped Toucanet sitting quietly at waist-height along the side of the path. On our way back down, we come across our first real feeding flock of the day. A cooperative Scaled Fruiteater is the highlight of the frenzy, but a Strong-billed Woodcreeper and several new Furnariids are around too, such as Rusty-winged Barbtail, Scaly-throated Foliage-gleaner, and Streak-capped Treehunter. As we watch the flock, Mark's group arrives to pick up our leftovers and we swap sightings for the morning. They're excited about our toucanet, but they've scored a coup by finding a pair of Chestnut-breasted Chlorophonias foraging along the forest edge on the other side of the valley. When we finally get there, the chlorophonias are gone, but we find a Tropical Parula and a small group of four toucanets.
Orchid. Photo by Morgan Tingley 2 PM:
After lunch back at the lodge, everyone heads back out for more birds. Iain leads a group hike along the access road, but I opt for the group going back on the trails led by both Mark and José. The sun has made the forest quiet, but occasionally we get lucky. Spotted Barbtail and a Wedge-billed Hummingbird are found calling along the trail. Mark and José continually try to call in birds for us to see, and while we decide the Andean Solitaire is a hopeless case, we do find a responsive Bronze-Olive Pygmy-Tyrant.
We keep hiking for a while, but as the forest becomes silent, our hopes for finding a rarity begin to drain away. When we come to a fork in the path – one way leading back to the lodge and one way leading onward – Scott decides he wants to go back and heads off alone. The rest of us are tired, but realize that luck has as much to do with it as anything. We hike on, and after a few minutes we stop as Mark tries again to call in a singing solitaire. As we wait patiently on the path, Scott reappears grinning: "There's a Moustached Antpitta five minutes down the trail – I think it might still be there!"
Tandayapa scoping. Photo by Patrick del Pizzo Adrenaline now pulsing through our bodies we practically run down the trail back toward the lodge. Scott leads the front, with Mark and José (just as eager) on his heels, ready to confirm the identification. Finally, they turn a corner and stop. The trail is narrow and full of twists, and only the two people at the very front can see the path ahead. The antpitta is still there, though, and not more than twenty feet from the leaders. Having practiced leapfrogging previously with the antthrush, we're now all experts. Two people tiptoe at the front until they've achieved full views of this globally threatened and endangered species. Once done, they duck out and let the next two people go ahead. The antpitta is amazingly cooperative. When the frontrunners get too close, it takes four or five hops forward, but it never leaves the path. After one full cycle of viewing, we're still all eager for more, and we continue to swap turns at the front, following the antpitta for at least fifteen minutes. Finally, it hops silently up a hillside and disappears in an instant.
When we get back to the lodge, we're faced with the difficult position of wanting to express our excitement without torturing the others who were not there. Everyone has missed at least one great bird already on the trip though, so no one is too distraught. While it may be frustrating, it's part of the allure and mystery of birding in the tropics – a bird can appear for just a few fleeting moments, and then vanish and not be seen or heard of again.
Prologue – Day One – Day Two – Day Three – Day Four – Day Five – Day Six – Epilogue |
