The Beak of the Antpitta...PERU (13th Sept.)

After an amazing three days in and around Abra Patricia, we had to reluctantly move on. Well, I say reluctantly, although the promise of our next destination was quite substantial, meaning that the sadness of leaving that great place was softened somewhat. To say we left pre-dawn is an understatement, as it felt like the middle of the night, and was arguably not far off it. However, these are the necessities of the ardent birder, and the sacrifices we make for that one...MORE...BIRD! The early start was needed as we had a fair drive, plus a sturdy hike in order to reach the spot for our next target bird. We were led to believe our hike from the town of San Lorenzo, into the bamboo choked upper elevations was to be relatively easy, and was a much softer version of the old hike that people historically had to do for this same bird. However, in hindsight, I would wager that those people who advised us of the relative ease of walk, had not had a hip operation that year (as I had), and had also not undertaken it with a steady stream of rain turning the mule track into a hazardous uphill climb!

The walk was tough, but the way was eased with some avian downtime, when we spotted a little flick of Citrine Warblers and a Barred Fruiteater on the way up. Better still was to come, when a passing flock was found to hold a pair of Unstreaked Tit-Tyrants, which instantly pulled themselves out of the flock and into the surrounding shrubs with a little playback. Feisty little creatures they were! All this helped to ease the pain of the seemingly constant upward climb. We also saw the only Gray-browed Brush-Finch of the trip on the way up (a species that was formerly part of the Stripe-headed Brush-Finch complex that was recently split into multiple species). Another cotinga (in addition to the fruiteater) came in the form of a Red-crested Cotinga, which was a forebearer of a great day for this family. Slowly, but surely, we worked our way up to our target altitude, where our target bird was said to be found. We were armed with directions from another Tropical Birding guide, but trying his stakeout, we came up empty-handed, with neither sight nor sound of our target bird. Some compensation came in the form of a Plain-tailed Wren of the endemic schulenbergi form, which is a likely future species, by virtue of its distinct voice. We kept trying the call of our main target, Pale-billed Antpitta beside the trail, hoping for a response close to us. But, try as we might, the only one we heard was buried in what seemed to be a dense swathe of bamboo, across an undulating private field of wet grass. Finally, Mark and I snapped, and decided we simply needed to chase after the sound, albeit on the far side of a stretch of private land. Thankfully, the owners of the land were in, and seemed unperturbed by our request for entry. We made our way through the field, making sure our trousers were wet through by the time we reached the other side, and neared the bamboo patch, where we figured the bird was located. Remarkably, when we got close to the first stand of dense bamboo, the bird seemed tantalisingly close. I had already seen three new antpittas on the trip up until this point, all of which are endemic to Peru, and had enjoyed them all. However, this was the one I really wanted; there's just something about that pale bill, which created a pull in me. Before pressing play on my I-Pod, I scanned the forest floor for signs of movement, hoping that by some miracle I would locate an antpitta without the aid of playback (a rare occurrence). Finding nothing, I nervously pressed play, and waited. Mark quickly stated he had this mega bird in his sights, but it was abundantly clear that I was blocked from my position; one of those all too frequent moments that occurs in forest birding. All too soon, this hefty antpitta had hopped away and was lost from Mark too. I tried playback once more, adjusting my position again just before I did so. Horror of all horrors, once again this beefy bird jumped into a position visible to Mark, though entirely blocked from me.

At this point Mark declared he had enjoyed decent views and he was happy with what he had seen and needed no more. This was both bad news (I was completely gripped off by this-i.e. jealous), but the good news was that Mark was happy for me to plow into the bamboo alone to try and see it for myself, (getting the two of us into the bamboo may have been a real challenge with limited space available). I climbed in, now ensuring the rain-drenched bamboo, soaked through not only my trousers, but all other of my clothing items too. I found myself a small opening within the bamboo, which had an enticing looking log (just the sort of log, I hoped, that Pale-billed Antpittas, liked to hop up on) within full view of it. I pressed play again, and instantly the sound of the antpitta was on top of me; I scoured the ground, and then it jumped up onto my favoured log, posing with its ivory-coloured bill in full, fantastic view. I was wet through from head to foot, and may have permanently water damaged my shiny new bluetooth speaker in the process, but did I care? Did I heck, it was worth every single uncomfortable moment, and financial burden (the speaker).

On the way down we found our final cotinga of the day, a treble-cotinga day, when we chanced upon our second Chestnut-crested Cotinga in as many days; while also picking up Golden-browed Chat-Tyrant, and Drab Hemispingus. 

After our long hike, lunch tasted very good at the bottom of the hill and end of the hike, and we looked forward to a very different afternoon's birding ahead, in the dry Utcubamba Valley...

Best Day's Birding; EVER!...Peru (12th Sept.)

This trip to Peru was far from typical; the tour had been condensed from a usual 14-day trip into 11 days of birding. This left a high risk of missing a number of birds, but holiday restrictions for some in the group left no choice in the matter. However, we enjoyed rare, rare luck on this trip, and were so lucky and successful, it felt like a trip that can never be repeated. This day was the perfect example of this...

We awoke at Owlet Lodge, with skies cast in the colour of charcoal, illustrating the imminent threat of rain. For this reason, the three people in the group armed with digital SLRs, myself, Nick and Mark, all left our cameras in our rooms. Rain seemed extremely close, and threatened to curtail birding from the look of the skies above, and so we headed out on the trails near the lodge, with antpittas on our mind. The Abra Patricia area is rich in antpittas, and offered me alone 3 species I had not seen before, all of which are Peruvian endemics. As we had seen one of these the day before (Ochre-fronted), we were now focusing on the others. We started out by trying a spot where Rusty-tinged Antpitta had been heard the day before. It did not take long for a bird to respond, and soon after an antpitta shot across the trail at the speed of the Superhero the Flash! We feared, that would be that, but then, suddenly, another Rusty-tinged Antpitta hopped languidly on to the trail. Our first thoughts were that it would not remain long, but the bird defied usual antpitta behavioural etiquette, and not only remained for several joyful minutes, but even hopped up onto a rock, to make itself prominent and visible to all! At this point three in the group looked rather sheepish at having left our cameras locked safely in our rooms, and unable to capture the moment. Another hour or so on the trail, and we also nailed a third lifer antpitta in this area for me, with a Chestnut Antpitta that hopped out beside my speaker on he trail, and we also managed to track down a Rusty-breasted Antpitta too, to complete a hatrick of antpitta species for the morning. On the way back towards the lodge, with rain beginning to fall, we picked up the fantastically named Oleaginous Hemispingus, and the scarce Olive Flycatcher. By the time we reached the lodge, the threat of heavy rain, had turned into real, heavy rain. Knowing our birding in this area was now curtailed, we decided to head down to lower elevations along the road below the lodge; we had seen nearly all of our targets at the upper altitudes, and also by dropping lower, we hoped that we would move below the main rain belt....

However, when we arrived at Afluente, a famed birding spot, that is actually nothing more than a pull out by a tyre shop, the rain was very much still in evidence, and we were quickly forced back into the van for shelter. It soon became clear no matter how much we complained, prayed, and sat frustrated in the van, that the rain was here to stay for a while. There was nothing left to do than take advantage of the rain break, and take a long nap in the van! Which we did. After over an hour of birding being frozen out Nick awoke us with the news that the rain had nearly stopped, and so we left the vehicle promptly fearing there would not be too many breaks in the rain during the day, thus keen to take full advantage when there were. What followed was one of the busiest and most thrilling birding sessions I have ever experienced in the Andes. The first sign of a flock coming into the area was a Versicolored Barbet making a rapid appearance; then Mark noticed a White-eared Solitaire perched in an open tree! As I missed the solitaire, a much-wanted lifebird, and felt my lack of 'scope did not help, I immediately ran back to the van for my telescope, just a hundred meters or so away. However, this was the period when the floodgates opened for birds, and there was barely time for me to even get my 'scope. As I was reaching the van, a shout went up from Nick "Chestnut-crested Cotinga!" (a long time nemesis of mine), which had chosen to land in the very same tree as the solitaire. Moments later, while still revelling in the cotinga, Mark indicated he had the White-eared Solitaire again, and this time, we all got it. We were taking in both of these striking birds, when Nick, gestured to another beauty located lower down the same tree: a male Scarlet-breasted Fruiteater! It was becoming abundantly clear, we were in for a rare, rare day in the Andes. The next two hours or so were spent admiring a myriad of species that streamed through the trees around us, either as part of an amazingly diverse feeding flock, or visiting a number of trees that were clearly baring fruit in the area. Among the many species seen were" a pair of Lanceolated Monklets, a male Andean Cock-of-the-rock, a lifer Plumbeous-crowned Tyrannulet, the endemic Speckle-chested Piculet, Spotted, Saffron-crowned, Green-and-gold and Blue-necked Tanagers, Blue Dacnis, and a pair of Chestnut-tipped Toucanets. It was thrilling to be surrounded by so many birds, and a flock holding real quality within.

We soon reached lunchtime, but were forced back into the van, after the rain moved in once more, and the flock evaporated into the forest. Another nap was undertaken to cope with the rain break; and with the time approaching mid-afternoon, and the rain still very much in evidence, we opted to head lower still to the town of Aguas Verdes, and check out a new reserve on the edge of town: Bosque de Arena Blanca. This proved an inspired choice as we packed in some final quality birds before dusk forced our dream day to a close. As we walked towards the reserve we noted Lettered Aracaris, the endemic Black-bellied Tanager, and a Amethyst Woodstar in the trees closeby; and at the hummingbird feeders we were treated to both Blue-fronted and Green-fronted Lancebills, and a Many-spotted Hummingbird. While we were there another, large, tour group were there too, and in spite of the din of us all excitedly taking in the great hummers on site, someone spotted a Red-ruffed Fruitcrow in the trees above, which was something I had been dearly hoping to see. Taking a break from the feeders, we were met with mixed success; we got cracking looks at some cracking birds (Blue-naped Chlorophonias, Black-faced Dacnises, Golden-bellied Euphonias, and Paradise Tanagers), but missed a covey of Rufous-breasted Wood-Quails that came in to a gran feeders while we did so. This would have been a great lifer, but after the day we had just had there were no complaints from me; it was truly one of the most thrilling days I had ever experienced in the Andes....

Next up was a hike for yet another new antpitta, and a very, very special one at that...

Don't Cry for me Peru!...9th Sept.

We awoke at the wonderful Waqanki Lodge, full of excitement at the enormous avian potential for our day. By the day's end, potential had become reality, with some 150 species recorded; an impressive haul considering we lacked for any waterbirds as we spent the day inside the forest. The name Waqanki is a Quechua, and means "You will cry", and by the end of the day we were nearly weeping with joy. Simply put, it was a mega day, from start to finish. The finish was late, as we could not resist trying to track down some of the best owls in the area.

The day dawned gloomy, with the real threat of rain. However, here in the Andean foothills, the worst weather that you can have is hot and dry days, when birds are usually not too active. Our day unfolded with spells of rain interspersed by overcast weather. The rain was never too troublesome and the regular grey skies kept it not only cool, but active through the day. Andean birds simply love this weather. On this day we were accompanied by Carlos, a superbly talented local guide for the lodge, who I would highly recommend to anyone visiting there. Shortly after entering the forest we tracked down a calling Wing-barred Piprites (a type of manakin), before Carlos put us on to a local endemic flycatcher: Mishana Tyrannulet (which was later photographed much better later in the day). 

Working our way further up the trail, the ante was upped, when a male Black-and-white Tody-Flycatcher was reeled in; a smashing looking flycatcher that puts all those dowdy empidonax to the shame! Then Carlos pulled a real corker out of the hat, when he stated "Fiery-throated Fruiteater!" This caused me to almost fall off the trail in my hurry to get to Carlos and the bird. I have lived in Ecuador for nigh on 9 years, and had longed for this bird, which had masterfully eluded me thus far. I wanted it bad, and I was within touching distance of it. I looked to the place indicated and, honestly, was a little disappointed! I was ready for a visual feast, a tiny lime green bird with a burning red ember for a throat. However, all I saw a an all green female; I was unsatisfied momentarily, until I glanced up and saw the male, ember in place, sitting just above her; satisfaction complete. Instantly, a real contender for bird of the trip had honed into view. 

We continued up the trail, pushing on with the promise of rarer birds still on ahead. A clearing brought us a pair of Red-billed Tyrannulet, a miniscule White-bellied Pygmy-Tyrant, ad an equally tiny Speckle-chested Piculet (a Peruvian endemic). The Andean foothills are graced with a swathe of colourful tanagers, and another clearing brought stark evidence of this, with Green-and-gold Tanager, Paradise Tanager, Bay-headed Tanager, and the endemic Black-bellied Tanager all sharing the same trees.

After this point our continuing climb became tough; the trail was steep and energy was sapping as we neared a 3km walk from the lodge. However, we pushed on, birds like Gilded Barbet, and a perched party of Swallow-tailed Kites giving us a welcome boost as we continued up. I nailed another nemesis from my Ecuadorian birding, when we tracked down a Buff-throated Tody-Tyrant. Finally, we reached the ridge, with the forest seeming all but quiet. However, Carlos gestured us onto a side trail, where we played the call of Ash-throated Antwren, a scarce endemic, and waited. Not long after a clear response from an antwren was heard, and we legged it down the trail towards the sound. A little more playback, some slipping sliding in the mud, and we were all looking straight at up at a male Ash-throated Antwren, a lifer for all concerned, even Nick Athanas, for which it had been a bit of a nemesis. A fabulous surprise came up the trail, as the lodge staff walked our cooked lunch to us on the trail, which tasted all the sweeter for having just added a certain antwren.

Coming down the trail in the early-mid afternoon was predictably much quieter than the way up, during the traditionally least active time of day. We did see a pack of Saddleback Tamarins on the way down, and also recorded a new bird for the reserve in the form of a flock of Band-tailed Pigeons (a common species at higher altitudes). We closed the afternoon (but not the day), back at the hummingbird feeders, where, once again birds like Rufous-crested Coquette and White-chinned Sapphire were the standout attendees, along with Black-throated and Great-billed Hermits, Golden-tailed Sapphire, Black-throated Mango, and Gray-breasted Sabrewing among 13 species present that afternoon.

Our day did not end there though, as we got out in the field again, post-dinner (actually near 10PM), as we went out for one of the stranger sessions of owling that I have ever experienced...