Travel Travails
This trip to Southern Ecuador grew out of our need to expend a credit with tour provider Tropical Birding, created when a 2020 trip to Oaxaca was cancelled. TB was not particularly generous and I probably would not have used them were it not for the credit. And given the ongoing COVID uncertainty, I would have waited longer were it not for the credit deadline.
As travel restrictions and requirements became more stringent, planning got more complicated. It’s now necessary to get PT-PCR tested no more than 72 hours before departure and, of course, test results can take up to 72 hours. Hope for the best or pay $150 for a rapid test. Realizing it’s even possible to test positive, I increased the travel insurance to cover some of the tour costs, as well as medical emergency coverage. But I coughed up the $150 and got a negative result (that's the good one).
The next hurdle is air travel, snarled by COVID and weather but "On Time" as of this writing. American Airlines did its best to ensure that our travel schedule was as inconvenient as possible, thoughtfully changing flight details 2 or 3 times to get us to places between 11 PM and 2 AM, and allowing us to leave places at 4:30 AM. But at least I’ll be meeting up with friends from Arizona, who are also connecting through Miami.
My priorities are hummingbirds, of which 90 or more species are possible, including a few that only occur in the area we are traveling. And one that was only discovered a few years ago. I’ll continue to ponder the evolutionary influences that resulted in some 350 hummingbird species of almost unimaginable variety in plumage and habits. My infatuation with hummingbirds came late, a late-life regret right up there with having sold my 1957 Ducati motorcycle in 1967.
Overall, the trip could find over 750 species of birds, a remarkable 7.5% of all the birds in the world.
Ayampe Adventure
We decided to get in to Ecuador a couple days before the tour and try to get a few Pacific coast specialties before joining up. Also a little insurance against air delays. Which amazingly did not happen, although American Airlines did its best to try. And arrival was refreshingly efficient, zoomed through health screening, passport, and customs in about the amount of time it takes in Miami to be directed to the right desk.
Off in a too small car (see below) to Ayampe on the Pacific coast, where surf is king and birds are friendly.
Hoped for ONE OF THE RAREST BIRDS IN THE WORLD - the Esmeralda’s Woodstar hummingbird, but doinked on that one. Compensation was a few roadside bonus birds including Pearl Kite and Chilean Flamingo species, spotted by sharp-eyed Jay Hand, a one-time Connecticut birder now in Arizona. An afternoon and morning yielded around 70 species, many of which were new to one or another of us or offered stunning views previously unseen.
A walk along a famous surfer beach didn’t yield much in the way of birds, but a first communion with the Pacific Ocean south of the Equator was one opportunity to ponder the wonder of nature at her macro level.
Back in Guayaquil in time to avoid the overtime penalty on the rental and get ready for 5:30 departure tomorrow.
Off to Buenaventura and Umbrellabird Lodge
After our trip to Ayampe we joined the main tour, which had atrophied to only 2 more birders, plus the guide from Tropical Birding and a driver. Several hours of driving south brought us to Umbrellabird Lodge, where we are to look for two famous endemics - the Long-wattled Umbrellabird and the El Oro Parakeet. Found both, the first after a mud climb and the second after a mile climb until the trucks finally arrived. But worth it and bonus was great hummingbird photo ops.
Wow, what a place. This lodge is located in the Buenaventura Reserve of the Fundación de Conservación Jocotoco, an Ecuadorian non-governmental organization (NGO), to protect areas of critical importance for the conservation of threatened species in Ecuador. Hummingbirds everywhere. Mosquitoes also; it took me an hour while writing this to finally feed all of them that snuck into the Lodge.
Warning: bird porn, may not be suitable for all audiences.
Copulating El Oro Parakeets, a species found only in the El Oro District of Ecuador
Off tomorrow for the Peru border and hopefully some more unique hummers.
Endemics, Not Pandemics
Our terrific guide, Sam (“call me the endemic whisperer”) Woods (no relation, we think) was indeed superb at getting us on endemics, for which southern Ecuador is famous among those who obsess about such species. (In the pantheon of birder lunacy, endemic chasing ranks rather high.)
Endemics are defined somewhat subjectively, if not arbitrarily, to encompass a specified area. For instance, hummingbirds are endemic to the Western Hemisphere, while humans are endemic to earth, as related to the Universe. But we narrow it down for the purposes of bird chasing, and here we are after endemics (not pandemics or epidemics mind you) found in the Tumbesian region of southern Equador and northwest Peru. We don’t go into Peru, but we can see it from near our lodge, which I suppose qualifies us to run for Vice-President.
Anyway, Sam has this endemic thing down pat, with what I like to call the 3-2-1-1 formula: drive 3 hours, hike 2 miles, stand 1 hour, see 1 bird. Not always of course, sometimes we see things along the way that soften the disappointment if the final “1” of the above formula turns into “0”.
Endemics come in all shapes and sizes, bird-wise that is. Some are small but stunning:
Speaking of tits (no, really), we had noticed that Sam’s introductory bio blurb included this tidbit of info: “Sam’s unhealthy obsession for birds began with a pair of tits in a London park at age 11.” (I am not making this up.) We presume he also enjoyed the birds flying around the park. But this is clarified for the “average American”, by which I mean everyone, with the information behind the Beatles song “And Your Bird Can Sing” which refers not to one of the chickadee-like parus species (i.e. “tits”) but to Mick Jagger’s girlfriend. In Britain, hot girlfriends are called “birds”. Oh, and Sam is British.
And some birds may be valued for endemism but not looks:
But some of the endemic hummingbirds on this trip are more like common perceptions of hummers (a bird-cognoscenti term):
This guy was among a small swarm (another technical birder term) of squabbling hummers living up to the reputation given them by the Aztecs, who believed brave warriors who died in battle were resurrected as hummingbirds. Let’s hope that was true.
One of the fancier hummers, this territorialist (I’ll explain that later) species guards his food supply against all comers.
As promised, hummingbirds will be a focus of future posts, and I take comfort in hearing about 10 inches of snow and 4 degree weather at my house in Connecticut knowing that I’ll have several thousand photos to cull for the best hummer shots during the cold winter days.
And thanks to my travel mates Jay Hand, Sue Carnahan, and Curtis Smith for brainstorming blog ideas. Ciao for know.
Bird Photo of the Day
White-necked Parakeets, endemic (recall your earlier class on endemics) to Southern Ecuador and a small piece of northern Peru, gleaning minerals to assist their digestion. In Podocarpus National Park in Zamora-Chinchipe, on the eastern slopes of the Andes. This species is endangered due to deforestation of its preferred habitat and collection for the pet trade. There may be only 2,000 - 3,000 of this bird remaining and they are only found at four locations, three in Ecuador and one in Peru
Two Andean Mountain ranges split Ecuador with eastern and western cordilleras. From the southern edge of Ecuador we drove into the eastern range to Casa Simpson, the first of the Jocotoco Foundation lodges. The Foundation was created to protect vital ecological resources in Ecuador, including the relatively recently discovered Jocotoco Antpitta (a species of bird, not some sort of pit-digging ant trapper).
We started after some target rarities at high elevations on Cerro Toledo, where the wind is strong and the birds are few. Above tree line at about 10,000 feet AMSL, it’s not a setting that portends a high BPH (another technical birding term meaning Bird species Per Hour). But with persistence we (by which I mean our guide Sam) find one of the most sought-after hummingbird species, the Neblina Metaltail. You might wonder how a hummingbird could fly with a metal tail, but that’s just a euphemism referring to the gunmetal color of the tail on several hummingbird species.
According to the bird list Sue compiled of this outing (one of about 65 she has done so far, requiring meticulous attention to detail while at the same time having the sharpest get-on-the-bird-eyes in the group) we had a BPH of about 2, but this one was worth the trekking up and down the mountain-side - well, mostly up. Seems every time we headed down, we had to turn around and go back up.
Off this mountain we make our way to Casa Simpson, where hummingbird feeders quickly provide me with three more new hummer species. After a failed night slog to see a Screech Owl we set out early the next morning on what to become a rainy, bird-filled, 6 hour, 3 1/2 mile trek. A pretty good workout for our group of approaching-maturity adults. Jay points out that if 60 is the new 40, 80 is the new geezer.
A stop at a shelter included a relatively new trick to birding, attracting and feeding Antpittas (a rather specialized group of birds) with worms. This was the famous Jocotoco Antpitta (read about them here: https://www.worldlandtrust.org/species/birds/jocotoco-antpitta/) - pronounced “hokotoko” - a family of which has become so accustomed to being fed, that they appeared to be waiting for us “litrilly stamping their feet” in the words of our British guide. This I am making up, but they were clearly hungry and expecting a handout.
Travel around Ecuador can be tricky since landslides (“derrumbes” in Spanish or “YIKES!” in English), are commonplace and pretty much ignored by both the Highway Department and the trucks, cars, motorcycles, cows, and pedestrians that use the roads. But our excellent driver, Antonio, maneuvers our van expertly around these inconveniences that border on catastrophic rolls down vertiginous slopes.
Eventually we arrived at one the main reasons for the trip (other than a few weeks away from COVID and political news in the US), a private garden hosting the spectacular Spangled Coquette. Of course, as with the rare Jocotoco Antbird trek, this was also a chance to wash our shoes in the pouring rain as we climbed to the verbena garden and jostled among 15 or so people for views of not-the-Spangled Coquette. Until, miraculously, the rain stops and suddenly I hear alert and sharp-eyed Sue say “there!” And indeed “there” is a full-blown male SPCO (birder shorthand) and by some species of legerdemain I get a few decent photos.
Back to the Peru border tomorrow, over which a not-so-committed war was fought back in the 1990s.
Paramo Birds and Birding Interruptus
Well, in spite of all the vaccines, boosters, masks, and rum we came down with COVID - except Jay for some inexplicable reason. Too many insalubrious interactions with lodge staffs, other birders, and probably each other in the end.
Initially, only one of us tested after feeling ill (HIPAA prohibits identifying her as Sue), so the rest of us leave for a date with the most recently discovered species of Trochillid, the Blue-throated Hillstar.
This Hillstar is a paramo specialist, of which there are several bird species, and we find ourselves after a mountainous drive clambering over a windswept grassy hillside at 11,500 feet altitude in the Andes. The Hillstar does not take long to appear, and the photogs all jockey for position to get a frontal shot, to limited success.
Hummingbirds often appear as if they were teleported, not there one second and there the next. Something to do with their speed of flight and our slowness of eye, I suspect, but it makes for excitement when it occurs on a bush that a group watches in anticipation.
A few more paramo specialists sweeten our visit, including a rare hummer, the Viridian Metaltail.
But our celebration of the Hillstar sighting and the wonder of Andean peaks is dampened when Sam relays the news that most of us tested positive for COVID. So we have to speed back to Guayaquil to isolate in a hotel and await a negative test.
After almost three weeks in the wilds and mountains of southern Equador, being limited to a 20 x 12 room is somewhat confining. Perhaps presciently I am reading A Gentleman in Moscow, about a political enemy of the Russian Revolution who is internally exiled to a single hotel. And I start to relate to his fears that “it would not take long for the ceiling to edge downward, the walls to edge inward, and the floor to edge upward, until the entire hotel had been collapsed into the size of a biscuit tin.”
A view of the paramo and Blue-throated Hillstar habitat at about 12,000 feet.
I have little or no symptoms, so I go through the so-called five stages of grief: Angry, Dopey, Sleepy, Grumpy, and Resigned (thankfully, no Sneezy). Fortunately I have several thousand photos to go through and I have Lightroom on my iPad to play with, and the 100 or more eBird checklists that Sue prepared to go through and reminisce about happier days.
But after seeing and hearing over 570 species of birds the last three weeks, a diet of one Turkey Vulture, one Ecuadorian Thrush, a flock of Southern Rough-winged Swallows, a few Scrub Blackbirds, two Tropical Kingbirds, several pigeons, and - painfully - numerous airplanes, is less than satisfying.
Next up, I hope: weird birds of the trip.
Owls and Odd Birds
Less easy to photograph, even in daylight, was this Ferruginous Pygmy-Owl across a river.
Ferruginous Pygmy-Owl
But some owls required an after-dinner cardiac test up trails through the forest and precarious perching along steep trails listening to recorded owl calls at volumes approaching chain saw.
And one owl, perhaps the rarest of all owls in Ecuador, required several hours of jogging up and down a dark road as the owl called from various locations, culminating in a plunge into the dark forest on a barely discernable path. Amazingly, Sam spotted the Buff-fronted Owl not 20 feet away and in open view.
One other owl spotting added a unique flavor to birding Ecuador: a Koepcke’s Screech Owl, normally endemic to only Peru, was roosting in a palm tree growing up in the atrium of a home in a suburban residential neighborhood. The homeowner welcomed birders and although we were able to view the bird from the street, Sam and Jay could not resist the owner’s offer to climb up to the roof for closer views.
As Sam might say, a rather dodgy ladder and scaffold apparatus led to the Koepcke’s Screech Owl. I’ll pass.
As I mentioned, my primary interest was in the many and varied hummingbirds of Southern Ecuador, several of which are considered to be among the most beautiful of birds. But Ecuador, and the neotropics generally, is home to an amazing variety of birds that, like hummingbirds, demonstrate the wonder of evolution. And some of these are more in the “face only a mother could love” category. Here’s some that we saw.
Comb Duck – One question for Mother Nature: Why?
Hoatzin – One of the most primitive-looking birds and the closest thing to Archaeopteryx existing today.
Bearded Guan – An apparently tasty chicken-like bird.
Long-wattled Umbrellabird – With an inflatable wattle that booms an eerie foghorn moan.
Amazonian Umbrellabird – With a Kookie Burns hairdo.
There are, of course, many spectacular and colorful birds besides hummingbirds.
Ecuadorian Trogon
Masked Flowerpiercer – note the hook-tipped bill to facilitate, well, flowerpiercing.
Next up: more hummingbirds.
More Hummingbirds
I promised a little more about hummingbirds. We saw 60 different species and although I missed four or five of those I managed 25 or so new species and 28 new species photos.
Studying the incredible variety of colors and plumages of hummingbirds, it’s hard not to ponder the evolutionary advantages that created such a dazzling array of plumages. And why do so many species sport a bright white post ocular spot or line?
Violet-crowned Hummingbird - Note the bright white post-ocular spot
And speaking of hummingbird evolution, while today they are limited to the western hemisphere, apparently fossil records indicate that hummingbirds may have originated in the European region and probably migrated to the Americas via the Bering Sea bridge, probably 10s of millions of years ago. Humans followed only 15,000 or so years ago.
Hummingbird names often reflect the variety and identifying traits of this family of birds: hermit, starfrontlet, sunangel, violetear, sunbeam, brilliant, emerald, woodstar, sapphire, thorntail, and coquette. These categories are usually qualified with colors: violet-crowned, amethyst-throated, violet-tailed, violet-throated, sapphire-vented, rainbow, velvet-purple, purple-bibbed, golden-tailed, and rufous-tailed.
But hummingbirds do range from plain to fancy; here's a sampling.
The Plain and the Fancy: Speckled Hummingbird and Purple-throated Subangel
Pale-tailed Barbthroat
Females are often less colorful, or at least more demure, than the corresponding males, but just as often they are just as lovely in their own right.
Female Violet-tailed Sylph
Male Violet-tailed Sylph
And sometime the sexual dimorphism is dramatic.
Female or immature male White-necked Jacobin
Light angles affect the perceived color of iridescent feathers, which is a result of refraction not pigmentation. So the color often changes from one view to the next.
Little Sunangel - flashing orange and red
Amethyst-throated Sunangel
Purple-throated Sunangel
Sometimes, you need to look closely.
Brown Violetear
Finally, about the most spectacular hummer we saw, the Spangled Coquette. Jon Dunn (The Glitter in the Green) likens its spangled crown to David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust hairdo.
Spangled Coquette
You can view these and many more hummingbird photos from Ecuador on my Flickr website: Ecuador Hummingbirds 2022
Some Miscellaneous Commentary
(note: you can peruse photos from this trip at Ecuador BirdTrek 2022)
Neotropical Birding
Jon Dunn, in his recent book about hummingbirds, The Glitter In the Green, observed that “birders, in the neotropics, suffer for their birds and see them only fleetingly.” This trip exemplified that sentiment.
I noted earlier our “3,2,1,1” formula for many of the trip’s target species: drive three hours, hike two miles, stand for one hour, see one bird. More often than not, the formula was successful, although personally I would have sacrificed a rarity or two for more and better looks at different birds.
But Dunn is correct, even where birds are numerous, such as when you come across a mixed flock of tanagers, sightings are difficult. And photography is always challenging, given dark forests, thick vegetation, and, often, rain. Even at lodge hummingbird feeders.
A Mixed Batch of Hummingbirds
Ecuadorians
Most people, even in the remote villages, stayed masked – the people do not appear to have been politically bullied into resisting intelligent precautions.
In the U.S. a gaggle of birders on a roadside may draw honks of derision or at best looks of bewilderment. Ecuadorians almost always offered a friendly wave or toot of the horn.
Staff at all the lodges were unfailingly pleasant, friendly, and happy; laughter from the kitchen was a constant at every lodge. Maybe they were laughing about the crazy gringo birdwatchers, but I don't think so.
Something you probably won't see in the States: pig butchering takes place in the street (right across from the restaurant where we had lunch).
"Your chops will be ready soon."
Architecture in most towns is a combination of early concrete block façade and unfinished top floors serving as clothes dryers.
And Curtis noticed that it appeared every single house and phone had its own separate wire.
"Phone's out? Good luck!"
Ecuador is big on statues; at most entrances to towns a local or historic hero is proudly honored. And even on a remote bridge near the border with Peru an Incan warrior rides a giant toucan.
Chicken Tragedy
I forgot to mention the Great Chicken Tragedy. While waiting for Chestnut-collared Swallows to return to their nests glued under the eaves of the Sozoranga Police station, our attention was drawn to the spirited volleyball game in the station yard and then to an unfolding tragedy in the back yard. A puppy, having fun catching and throwing around a chicken, went too far and the chicken expired. We, of course, were rooting for the chicken, but were also concerned about the fate of the puppy when the station manager, whose chickens we presume they were, discovered the felony.
Evening volleyball games were common, and often in the yard of the local police station.
Environmental
Much is written and studied about the impact of forest clearing, agriculture, and other development activities on many sensitive bird species, and several of the birds we saw are considered threatened or endangered as a result. The term “banana republic” is pretty apt here, because of the mile after mile of banana plantations and the purported political corruption. The U.S., of course, does not have banana trees.
Banana Trees
Recently, like latter-day Spanish conquistadors, Chinese and other business interests have invaded Ecuador to plunder its gold. This time the human toll is less (we hope), but the environmental impacts are far greater.
Gold Mining on Rio Nangartiza
Overall, of course, the countryside and particularly the high Andes are beautiful and often breathtaking – almost literally. As when driving along a twisty cliffside dirt road with a vertical drop of about 1000 feet, no railing, and the thought occurs: what if a tire blows out?
But here's a few views.
The Paramo Habitat of the Blue-throated Hillstar
Your Happy Birder/Photographer Atop Cerro Toledo
That's all for now, I'll post further if I come across any special photos or memories. Thanks for coming along and I hope you enjoyed the trip. I did!
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