mountain man
Guest
Sorry this took so long...
(PS Trev, thanks for the Arequipa advice)
Part 4(b)
Amazonia Lodge continued...
The Tapirs rocked. Both of them. Neither more than the other. Both had equal rocking attributes. Although the second came closer to us, so it could be argued that the second rocked ever so slightly more than the first. But if that was the case then there really wasn’t much in it. Tapirs rock.
However, everyone knows that mammals are no comaprison to birds, and we were soon back to enjoying the avifauna around the lake. A Rufescent Tiger-Heron was a real bonus surprise, a Grey-necked Wood-Rail gave better views than the one I flushed before, Gray-fronted Doves were calling all over the place (they sound just like the Runnelstone bouy at Porthgwarra in Cornwall, and if you don‘t know what that sounds like then go there, because I don’t have the vocabulary to eloquently describe it), and we also had great views of Black-tailed and Blue-crowned Trogons. Anyway, this Army Ant swarm that Mike had found…
… was nowhere to be found. But walking back along the Jeep Trail we were bombarded by new birds, including Pygmy Antwren, Warbling Antbird, Yellow-browed Tody-Flycatcher (a canopy neck-breaker), plus garage-loads of ‘fodder’ including what I think was the only bird at Amazonia Lodge that I’d seen before: Red-eyd Vireo. So we couldn’t find Mike’s Army Ant swarm, but no matter, because we found our own. Hooray! On the trail the ‘swarm’ was only about 4-5 inches wide, but there was clearly a lot of birdy noise coming from just off the trail in the dense bamboo. So without a second thought for our own lives (ahem), we headed off the trail and into the bamboo, care-free and unconcerned about the potential dangers posed by Bushmaster and Fer-de-Lance snakes, as well as Jaguars, Giant Otters, Castanet Fish, Wolfmen, Kangaroos and a mythical creature of the jungle, only sighted a few times, that has been described as being half dog and half cheese, although I can’t remember which half was which. I think I read about it on Wikipedia.
As we followed the Army Ant trail into the bamboo it began to form a proper swarm, in places over a foot wide, and sure enough the birds were there to take advantage. Squatting down to get a good view, we soon saw a Sooty Antbird drop down to the floor from low in the bamboo to pick off some unfortunate ants, and the ready supply of food made a few Woodcreepers much easier to watch than usual, these being Plain-brown, Long-tailed and Black-banded. But few images from the whole trip are as memorable as the soggy Black-spotted Bare-eye, sat in a narrow shaft of sunlight and shivering itself dry. Beautiful bird! There was also plenty of other things that we’d seen before but were now enjoying better views of; however, after some time we noticed that the ants had taken a bit of a fancy to us and decided to surround us, and as The Beatles once sang: “It’s hard to dance when you’re covered in ants, ooh baby, ooh baby.” Moving ever closer, we decided it was time to retreat and head back to the trail. Back in the open we were visually assaulted by literally thousands of ] Swifts swarming overhead, with dozens of tightly packed flocks circling at all altitudes; there were plenty of enormous White-collred but they were mostly small Chaetura swifts and impossible to ID with these views, however, some were occasionally distinctive enough by silhouette to have as Short-tailed Swifts, but 99% of them were beyond my feeble neotropical skills. Heading back to the lodge we picked up a Cabanis’ Spinetail and heard a Blue-crowned Manakin, but the lodge clearing itself finally showed us the goods with a sensationally superb male Rufous-crested Coquette - phwoaaarr!
After such an enjoyable start to the day, we stayed in the clearing after lunch picking up Creamy-bellied and Black-billed Thrushes, as well as Per telling us that what sounded almost like a Blackbird was actually a Hauxwell’s Thrush. A static Yellow-crowned Tyrannulet was scoped from the veranda, with a female Yellow-bellied Dacnis in the same view, and a Lemon-throated Barbet could be heard up on the hillside in the distance. Dead bird of the day went to a male Round-tailed Manakin that had flown into a wall and was found by Mike’s dad. We gave it a decent send-off and threw it in the bin for the Cheese Dog to have later on.
Per had been travelling in Peru for 8 weeks and had amassed a colossal list of over 800 birds, including 70 species of hummingbird! But he still needed Amethyst Woodstar, the stunning little hummer which had been showing well from the veranda right up until… err… Per arrived! His lust for hummers kept him on the veranda as Fabrice, Miss Cole and I went out around the back of the lodge to sort out some unfinished business. Since we arrived, and almost everywhere at Amazonia Lodge, we kept hearing Amazonian Antpitta, but all of them were just too far off the trail to have a chance of seeing them or using playback. But behind the lodge there appeared to be some calling very close to the trail by the little stream. It was the best chance so far. Not far around the back there was a bird singing very close to the trail, but still just too deep in the dense undergrowth to prevent any chance of catching a glimpse. Fabrice tried some playback and the bird responded immediately and slightly louder. We squatted down in anticipation and hoped that its curiosity was now sufficient for it to come out to the edge of the trail. After a couple of minutes the bird stopped calling. Now what? Well, it had stopped calling because it was staring straight at us just to my left - phwoooaaarrr again! On paper not as attractive as some of the more colourful things that day, but by way of its behaviour and the quality of views we were treated to, this was definitely as good as, or even better than, anything else this brilliant day had to offer. A Blackish Antbird and ever-present Black-throated Antbirds frantically called as the sun set and a gorgeous, little, fat Chestnut-capped Puffbird closed the daylight proceedings.
After going back to meet Per at the lodge (Per still awaiting a view of the Woodstar), the four of us, along with Mike and his dad, headed back out to see if we could stand a better chance with this Long-tailed Potoo, which apparently, “delights visitors at the edge of the clearing.” De nada. Nothing. Not a single Long-tailed Potoo anywhere. Then as we headed deeper into the black a Ferruginous
Pygmy-Owl decided to call briefly, but where it was we never worked out. But all was not lost. As hummers whizzed past our ears in the pitch black, a mournful and haunting call wailed out of the trees - Common Potoo. Fabrice torched the bird close to the track, cor blimey!, and we all watched it well for about 15 minutes, seeing and hearing it regularly call like a wounded Cheese Dog. (According to Wikipedia many nocturnal records of Cheese Dog have been false and actually refer to Common Potoo, so be on your guard: Cheese Dogs are out there. You have been warned.) “Beer, beer, we want more beer,” sang the Macc Lads, but not too much as I was paying for it, so it was just a bottle of Cusquena each to celebrate a great day of neotropical birdspottering. Night night!
The weather so far, at both Pilocopata and Amazonia, had been as regular as regular can be: each day would start mild and damp with clouds hanging low over the trees, then as things warmed up the clouds vanished and the humidity reached dehydration point, before the sun set and the rain began. And by rain, I mean RAIN, and not just wussy big-girl’s-blouse rain like we get in the UK and moan about all the time. This was man’s rain, and I don’t meant that in a sexist way. But anyway, the weather was different today; for a start it was cold and it was also still raining by mid-morning. Oh no! We’d been hit by a friaje. Aarrgghh! A what? A friaje? Yep, a friaje, a freak cold front that occasionally sweeps through the lowlands. But how would the birds react to this?
Well the birds didn’t seem to give a sh… I mean a care in the World. Miss Cole heard another Wattled Guan at dawn, but the wierdness of that call was today totally eclipsed by a screaming Horned Screamer, a bird as big as a small child but with super-powers, allowing it to remain totally invisible. Totally invisible. Still, it provided an amazing soundscape-type background thing to the birds that did have the decency and good manners to show themselves, including a Capped Heron, 2 Cobalt-winged Parakeets, a Fine-barred Piculet, 5 Yellow-tufted Woodpeckers sat neatly in a line along a single branch, 3+ Chestnut-eared Aracari and, best of all, a Cuvier’s Toucan - a real proper Toucan with a massive whopping great big bill, so big that… well anyway, it was big. Walking back for a late breakfast, Miss Cole found a brilliant Pale-legged Hornero tossing leaves on the track, and then as we rounded the corner back to the lodge something went, “quack-quack,” and this was clearly a quack-quack that was clearly well worth seeing. There was rustling afoot in a tree just behind us, but absolutely no chance of seeing anything, so it was pishing time, which is a bit like Chico Time, only better. And for those of you with a life that never watched X-Factor - and therefore have no idea who Chico is, or what Chico Time is - then it doesn’t matter so just ignore it. But pishing sent it mad, and soon we were treated to full-on hardcore views of not one but two Solitary Caciques - not at all common, and a great end to the morning.
Although bird activity was still pretty high, the rain was no fun for the hummers, so there was no excuse to sit on the veranda today (damn!) so we had to go out and walk. We bumped into Per and Fabrice who were now leaving and heading off to Pilcopata, so after saying goodbye we took a walk down the Jeep Trail, again seeing what was presumably the same Rufescent Tiger-Heron as yesterday, and then after a long loop around the lake and down to the river we managed to see 2 Cinereous Tinamous, Buff-throated Woodcreeper, Buff-throated Foliage-gleaner (it was National Buff-throated Day), a male Band-tailed Antbird, 5+ Goeldi’s Antbirds calling like mad and one of them showing like mad, and a Black-capped Donacobius (I swear I’m not just making these names up). But there was only one real winner today. Just ten metres down the track in front of us was what by silhouette looked like a small rail running about after worms. But this was no rubbishy rail. This was far better. This was at last a Black-faced Antthrush, and well worth the wait.
After joining up with Mike and his parents for dinner, we headed out for one last night of Owling, again seeing a Tawny-bellied Screech-Owl and hearing both the Common and Great Potoos. With just Mike and myself left, we wandered around the clearing and heard a barking in the distance: Crested Owl! A brief bit of playback had no effect so we left it alone, but just as we were walking back to the veranda a seriously scary Spectacled Owl decided to start calling - blinkin’ flip!
Our final morning was spent walking what had become our favourite trails around the lake and behind the lodge, thankfully finally seeing a Phaethornis hummer that we could at last ID - Koepcke’s Hermit, great views of the showy Silvered Antbirds and a final look at the high quality Hoatzins. After a final breakfast of pancakes, we spent the last hour on the veranda watching the Coquette and a tiny Blue-tailed Emerald beat the crap out of each other, as well as 2 Undulated Tinamous and another Pale-legged Hornero.
Amazonia Lodge was absolutely brilliant. I can’t describe just how much we both enjoyed ourselves; you could stay here for weeks and you’d never stop adding new birds. So we reluctantly said our goodbyes to Mike and his parents, as well as the fantastically friendly owners Nelly and Santiago Yabar, before leaving the clearing for one last time and heading back down to the river to catch our boat to take us 3 hours downstream, and to Pantiacolla Lodge.
(PS Trev, thanks for the Arequipa advice)
Part 4(b)
Amazonia Lodge continued...
The Tapirs rocked. Both of them. Neither more than the other. Both had equal rocking attributes. Although the second came closer to us, so it could be argued that the second rocked ever so slightly more than the first. But if that was the case then there really wasn’t much in it. Tapirs rock.
However, everyone knows that mammals are no comaprison to birds, and we were soon back to enjoying the avifauna around the lake. A Rufescent Tiger-Heron was a real bonus surprise, a Grey-necked Wood-Rail gave better views than the one I flushed before, Gray-fronted Doves were calling all over the place (they sound just like the Runnelstone bouy at Porthgwarra in Cornwall, and if you don‘t know what that sounds like then go there, because I don’t have the vocabulary to eloquently describe it), and we also had great views of Black-tailed and Blue-crowned Trogons. Anyway, this Army Ant swarm that Mike had found…
… was nowhere to be found. But walking back along the Jeep Trail we were bombarded by new birds, including Pygmy Antwren, Warbling Antbird, Yellow-browed Tody-Flycatcher (a canopy neck-breaker), plus garage-loads of ‘fodder’ including what I think was the only bird at Amazonia Lodge that I’d seen before: Red-eyd Vireo. So we couldn’t find Mike’s Army Ant swarm, but no matter, because we found our own. Hooray! On the trail the ‘swarm’ was only about 4-5 inches wide, but there was clearly a lot of birdy noise coming from just off the trail in the dense bamboo. So without a second thought for our own lives (ahem), we headed off the trail and into the bamboo, care-free and unconcerned about the potential dangers posed by Bushmaster and Fer-de-Lance snakes, as well as Jaguars, Giant Otters, Castanet Fish, Wolfmen, Kangaroos and a mythical creature of the jungle, only sighted a few times, that has been described as being half dog and half cheese, although I can’t remember which half was which. I think I read about it on Wikipedia.
As we followed the Army Ant trail into the bamboo it began to form a proper swarm, in places over a foot wide, and sure enough the birds were there to take advantage. Squatting down to get a good view, we soon saw a Sooty Antbird drop down to the floor from low in the bamboo to pick off some unfortunate ants, and the ready supply of food made a few Woodcreepers much easier to watch than usual, these being Plain-brown, Long-tailed and Black-banded. But few images from the whole trip are as memorable as the soggy Black-spotted Bare-eye, sat in a narrow shaft of sunlight and shivering itself dry. Beautiful bird! There was also plenty of other things that we’d seen before but were now enjoying better views of; however, after some time we noticed that the ants had taken a bit of a fancy to us and decided to surround us, and as The Beatles once sang: “It’s hard to dance when you’re covered in ants, ooh baby, ooh baby.” Moving ever closer, we decided it was time to retreat and head back to the trail. Back in the open we were visually assaulted by literally thousands of ] Swifts swarming overhead, with dozens of tightly packed flocks circling at all altitudes; there were plenty of enormous White-collred but they were mostly small Chaetura swifts and impossible to ID with these views, however, some were occasionally distinctive enough by silhouette to have as Short-tailed Swifts, but 99% of them were beyond my feeble neotropical skills. Heading back to the lodge we picked up a Cabanis’ Spinetail and heard a Blue-crowned Manakin, but the lodge clearing itself finally showed us the goods with a sensationally superb male Rufous-crested Coquette - phwoaaarr!
After such an enjoyable start to the day, we stayed in the clearing after lunch picking up Creamy-bellied and Black-billed Thrushes, as well as Per telling us that what sounded almost like a Blackbird was actually a Hauxwell’s Thrush. A static Yellow-crowned Tyrannulet was scoped from the veranda, with a female Yellow-bellied Dacnis in the same view, and a Lemon-throated Barbet could be heard up on the hillside in the distance. Dead bird of the day went to a male Round-tailed Manakin that had flown into a wall and was found by Mike’s dad. We gave it a decent send-off and threw it in the bin for the Cheese Dog to have later on.
Per had been travelling in Peru for 8 weeks and had amassed a colossal list of over 800 birds, including 70 species of hummingbird! But he still needed Amethyst Woodstar, the stunning little hummer which had been showing well from the veranda right up until… err… Per arrived! His lust for hummers kept him on the veranda as Fabrice, Miss Cole and I went out around the back of the lodge to sort out some unfinished business. Since we arrived, and almost everywhere at Amazonia Lodge, we kept hearing Amazonian Antpitta, but all of them were just too far off the trail to have a chance of seeing them or using playback. But behind the lodge there appeared to be some calling very close to the trail by the little stream. It was the best chance so far. Not far around the back there was a bird singing very close to the trail, but still just too deep in the dense undergrowth to prevent any chance of catching a glimpse. Fabrice tried some playback and the bird responded immediately and slightly louder. We squatted down in anticipation and hoped that its curiosity was now sufficient for it to come out to the edge of the trail. After a couple of minutes the bird stopped calling. Now what? Well, it had stopped calling because it was staring straight at us just to my left - phwoooaaarrr again! On paper not as attractive as some of the more colourful things that day, but by way of its behaviour and the quality of views we were treated to, this was definitely as good as, or even better than, anything else this brilliant day had to offer. A Blackish Antbird and ever-present Black-throated Antbirds frantically called as the sun set and a gorgeous, little, fat Chestnut-capped Puffbird closed the daylight proceedings.
After going back to meet Per at the lodge (Per still awaiting a view of the Woodstar), the four of us, along with Mike and his dad, headed back out to see if we could stand a better chance with this Long-tailed Potoo, which apparently, “delights visitors at the edge of the clearing.” De nada. Nothing. Not a single Long-tailed Potoo anywhere. Then as we headed deeper into the black a Ferruginous
Pygmy-Owl decided to call briefly, but where it was we never worked out. But all was not lost. As hummers whizzed past our ears in the pitch black, a mournful and haunting call wailed out of the trees - Common Potoo. Fabrice torched the bird close to the track, cor blimey!, and we all watched it well for about 15 minutes, seeing and hearing it regularly call like a wounded Cheese Dog. (According to Wikipedia many nocturnal records of Cheese Dog have been false and actually refer to Common Potoo, so be on your guard: Cheese Dogs are out there. You have been warned.) “Beer, beer, we want more beer,” sang the Macc Lads, but not too much as I was paying for it, so it was just a bottle of Cusquena each to celebrate a great day of neotropical birdspottering. Night night!
The weather so far, at both Pilocopata and Amazonia, had been as regular as regular can be: each day would start mild and damp with clouds hanging low over the trees, then as things warmed up the clouds vanished and the humidity reached dehydration point, before the sun set and the rain began. And by rain, I mean RAIN, and not just wussy big-girl’s-blouse rain like we get in the UK and moan about all the time. This was man’s rain, and I don’t meant that in a sexist way. But anyway, the weather was different today; for a start it was cold and it was also still raining by mid-morning. Oh no! We’d been hit by a friaje. Aarrgghh! A what? A friaje? Yep, a friaje, a freak cold front that occasionally sweeps through the lowlands. But how would the birds react to this?
Well the birds didn’t seem to give a sh… I mean a care in the World. Miss Cole heard another Wattled Guan at dawn, but the wierdness of that call was today totally eclipsed by a screaming Horned Screamer, a bird as big as a small child but with super-powers, allowing it to remain totally invisible. Totally invisible. Still, it provided an amazing soundscape-type background thing to the birds that did have the decency and good manners to show themselves, including a Capped Heron, 2 Cobalt-winged Parakeets, a Fine-barred Piculet, 5 Yellow-tufted Woodpeckers sat neatly in a line along a single branch, 3+ Chestnut-eared Aracari and, best of all, a Cuvier’s Toucan - a real proper Toucan with a massive whopping great big bill, so big that… well anyway, it was big. Walking back for a late breakfast, Miss Cole found a brilliant Pale-legged Hornero tossing leaves on the track, and then as we rounded the corner back to the lodge something went, “quack-quack,” and this was clearly a quack-quack that was clearly well worth seeing. There was rustling afoot in a tree just behind us, but absolutely no chance of seeing anything, so it was pishing time, which is a bit like Chico Time, only better. And for those of you with a life that never watched X-Factor - and therefore have no idea who Chico is, or what Chico Time is - then it doesn’t matter so just ignore it. But pishing sent it mad, and soon we were treated to full-on hardcore views of not one but two Solitary Caciques - not at all common, and a great end to the morning.
Although bird activity was still pretty high, the rain was no fun for the hummers, so there was no excuse to sit on the veranda today (damn!) so we had to go out and walk. We bumped into Per and Fabrice who were now leaving and heading off to Pilcopata, so after saying goodbye we took a walk down the Jeep Trail, again seeing what was presumably the same Rufescent Tiger-Heron as yesterday, and then after a long loop around the lake and down to the river we managed to see 2 Cinereous Tinamous, Buff-throated Woodcreeper, Buff-throated Foliage-gleaner (it was National Buff-throated Day), a male Band-tailed Antbird, 5+ Goeldi’s Antbirds calling like mad and one of them showing like mad, and a Black-capped Donacobius (I swear I’m not just making these names up). But there was only one real winner today. Just ten metres down the track in front of us was what by silhouette looked like a small rail running about after worms. But this was no rubbishy rail. This was far better. This was at last a Black-faced Antthrush, and well worth the wait.
After joining up with Mike and his parents for dinner, we headed out for one last night of Owling, again seeing a Tawny-bellied Screech-Owl and hearing both the Common and Great Potoos. With just Mike and myself left, we wandered around the clearing and heard a barking in the distance: Crested Owl! A brief bit of playback had no effect so we left it alone, but just as we were walking back to the veranda a seriously scary Spectacled Owl decided to start calling - blinkin’ flip!
Our final morning was spent walking what had become our favourite trails around the lake and behind the lodge, thankfully finally seeing a Phaethornis hummer that we could at last ID - Koepcke’s Hermit, great views of the showy Silvered Antbirds and a final look at the high quality Hoatzins. After a final breakfast of pancakes, we spent the last hour on the veranda watching the Coquette and a tiny Blue-tailed Emerald beat the crap out of each other, as well as 2 Undulated Tinamous and another Pale-legged Hornero.
Amazonia Lodge was absolutely brilliant. I can’t describe just how much we both enjoyed ourselves; you could stay here for weeks and you’d never stop adding new birds. So we reluctantly said our goodbyes to Mike and his parents, as well as the fantastically friendly owners Nelly and Santiago Yabar, before leaving the clearing for one last time and heading back down to the river to catch our boat to take us 3 hours downstream, and to Pantiacolla Lodge.
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