I wish I could entice them with the aroma of coffee at 0540 in the morning but instead all I have is the anticipation of seeing a Blue-Grey Tanager or better yet, a Toucan. Let’s just say that the latter doesn’t always conjure much excitement that early in the morning. For myself, I’m often ready, standing in the dark with my headlamp on, binoculars and bird book in hand watching my fellow friends scatter to and fro groaning and swaggering around. Bless their hearts, they never complain as we head out into the jungle in search of los pájaros (the birds).
Our lights guide us down the Honeycreeper trail following the tree line where you can hear the rushing water of the Pacora River on the other side. This trail is named after the Red-legged Honeycreeper bird or Mielerito who has a beautiful royal blue and black body and red legs. I’m often asked why I start the bird hike when it’s dark out. There are a few reasons, the first being, there are nocturnal birds such as the Common Paraque that can often be seen hanging out on the trails. When you flash the light at them their huge eyes stare back in curiosity. If you don’t see them, it is highly likely you will hear them (second reason for a night hike). One evening Gasun, Amanda and I were sitting under the bright moonlight and sharing stories while being intermittently interrupted by the Nightjar with a loud, “Feerrrreeeeaaalll!!” If you need any encouragement, the night jar will back you up. From the Honeycreeper trail we make our way down the Goosh trail. Famously named for its potential to be a gooshy mud trail in the rainy season, hiking in the darkness here is not for anyone who gets creeped out easily by bugs and strange noises. Cascade your light into the dense jungle and you will find a plethora of eyes looking back at you.
Usually as we then head uphill on the Hormiga Cortadora trail (Leaf-cutter Ant) the headlamps are put away as light seeps through the dense canopy. Here lies my third reason for starting the hike at night as an unknown author describes, “We can only appreciate the miracle of sunrise if we have waited in the darkness.” As creatures of the darkness go into hiding they make way for a chorus of birds while beneath them leaf-cutter ants start their journey on a series of trails in search of leaves. Leaf-cutter ants have permanent trails that led north, east, south, and west from their nest. Along these are several intertwined temporary trails. Along the Hormiga Cortadora trail are two types of signs, temporary pink flags that bring awareness to the hiker that ants are crossing the path. Near the top are signs depicting ants carrying leaves on their permanent trails. A few steps further is the top of Cerro Hormiga (Ant Hill) with a breathtaking view of the valley where the Iguana River meets the Pacora River and nestled between these is the Kalu Yala community.
A common sight here are the graceful Black Vultures or Zopilote común gliding around in circles in the warm air thermals. I’ve also seen the Keel-billed Toucan and the endangered Squirrel Monkey whose spanish name is Mono titi or also goes by, the peaceful monkey. On one particular tour that I took Gasun and Zac Bron’s professor Pavlina and her partner on, the girls watercolored while I taught Pavlina and Victoria about lichens and leaf-cutter ants. Later they said a sweaty campesino (farmer) came up the trail telling them he saw un tigre (a tiger) and then later on another campesino appeared with the same response. The campesino’s were baffled that these girls were watercoloring while a tiger was roaming about in the jungle.
After soaking in the view we head back down the same trail. Every morning I did this hike alone I would stop in particular places for more bird watching but usually people are ready to head back to base camp. For those that can wait twenty more minutes or visit the Golden-Collard Manakin another day are pleasantly greeted by the curious chubby birds. At the end of the hike, just as darkness makes you appreciate daylight, the lack of pancakes and coffee early in the morning are even better after an adventure in the jungle.
As a fond mother, when the day is o’er,
Leads by the hand her little child to bed,
Half willing, half reluctant to be led,
And leave his broken playthings on the floor,
Still gazing at them through the open door,
Nor wholly reassured and comforted
By promises of others in their stead,
Which, though more splendid, may not please him more;
So Nature deals with us, and takes away
Our playthings one by one, and by the hand
Leads us to rest so gently, that we go
Scarce knowing if we wish to go or stay,
Being too full of sleep to understand
How far the unknown transcends the what we know.
Leads by the hand her little child to bed,
Half willing, half reluctant to be led,
And leave his broken playthings on the floor,
Still gazing at them through the open door,
Nor wholly reassured and comforted
By promises of others in their stead,
Which, though more splendid, may not please him more;
So Nature deals with us, and takes away
Our playthings one by one, and by the hand
Leads us to rest so gently, that we go
Scarce knowing if we wish to go or stay,
Being too full of sleep to understand
How far the unknown transcends the what we know.
Nature by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow