More Panama Cloud Forest Birding

There's a reason they call this the cloud forest.

On the morning of Day 2 in Panama we headed back up the mountain to the distant, off-the-grid cabins operated by Los Quetzales lodge. These cabins are inside the Volcan Baru National Park and are reached via a very rugged and rocky road, winding upward, crossing several streams. Our group loaded into two Range Rovers for the drive to the cabins. I am not sure I've ever been on a less vehicle-friendly road, and yet the Range Rovers got us there—over seemingly impassable rocks and through (literally) rushing streams.

Every stream on the mountain was rushing from the heavy rains.

These cabins are rustic but cozy and are on the Panama itineraries of several birding tour companies. Our very own trip companion Jeffrey A. Gordon had helped to lead groups here several times in the years he was working for Victor Emanuel Nature Tours. Jeff gave us an idea of what to expect.

One of the two cloud forest cabins operated by Los Quetzales in Volcan Baru NP.

The weather continued in its own rainy and cool way—on this day we would not get any sunshine, but the rain, at least, was intermittent. And despite the precipitation we got birds.

After arriving at a pull-off, we hiked up a narrow trail, across a couple more small streams to the cabins. There, our guides Ito and Abel opened up the doors, started a fire in the fireplace and spread out a mid-morning snack for us and some mixed seed for the birds. Within minutes we had slaty finch, large-footed finch, and yellow-thighed finch coming in for the seed. There was a pair of common bush tanagers in the —yes—bushes. And the hummingbirds started visiting the newly refilled feeders.

Large-footed finch.

Aside from a short hike up a nearby road, we'd spend the next several hours watching the hummingbird action at the feeders hung under the porch roofs of the two cabins. Both the birds and the birders were happiest under the sheltering roofs as the rain became heavier. Had the light been better, the photographers among us might have passed out from sheer image exhaustion. The birds were just feet (sometimes inches!) away when at the feeders, and most had favorite perches to which they returned repeatedly. Jeff Gordon, Mike Freiberg, Kees van Berkel, and I took turns at the best photo spots. I also bombarded my fellow shutterbugs with questions about camera settings and adjustments. [I know almost nothing about such things and realize that a photo workshop needs to be in my future.]

The lighting was a challenge for photography.

A couple of times, the rain let up and we'd organize a short walk down the trail. Someone would yell that they had a good bird, and we'd all hurry to get there in time. Among the other cool birds we found at the Los Quetzales cabins were prong-billed barbet (freaky!), and a warbler-meets-wren-meets-thrush-like bird called a zeledonia (sometimes also called wrenthrush).

The group scans the canopy for a long-tailed silky-flycatcher.

Birding was good right near the cabins.

We also had other birds, many of which I could rattle off here, but, frankly, I mostly remember the hummingbirds.

Male white-throated mountain-gem.

All the hummers we saw at the cabins were fabulous, but one was more fabulouser than the others: the fiery-throated hummingbird. I got lots of photographs of white-throated mountain gem, and a few of green-crowned brilliant, stripe-tailed hummingbird, and violet-crowned woodnymph. But my attentions were primarily focused on the fiery-throated and, thanks to good photo advice from Jeff and Mike, I actually got a few keeper images of this bird which is the very definition of iridescence. I will share those images with you in tomorrow's post.

I'll close out today's post with a few of my favorite non-fiery-throated shots.

Green-crowned brilliant, one of the many hummingbirds visiting the feeders at the cabins.


A closer look at the green-crowned brilliant's head.

Female white-throated mountain-gem—I like her reflected colors in the rainwater.

I took hundreds of bad shots of this male white-throated mountain-gem. Better flash gear needed.

He flew right at me (really at the feeder near me) looking slightly satanic.

Chiriqui Cloud Forest

Gardens at Los Quetzales in Guadalupe, Panama.

After an early morning flight to the David airport in the western highlands of Panama, our group had breakfast at Los Quetzales lodge and spa in Guadalupe. This hotel, well-known to tropical birding tour companies, is located in a small village near the cloud forest of Volcan Baru National Park. It being the "green" (or rainy) season in Panama, it felt like we were already IN the cloud forest. The temperature at this altitude (about 7,000 feet above sea level) was much cooler than in Panama City and a misty rain was falling.

Around the table at Los Quetzales.

Carlos, the owner of Los Quetzales, was a delightful host during our stay. His hotel, as its name suggest, is decorated with a quetzal/cloud forest theme, which only made me MORE anxious about seeing a resplendent quetzal.

Cloud forest in Volcan Baru National Park in the province of Chiriqui in Panama.

At Los Quetzales, while waiting to leave for our first field trip, some of us had slaty flower piercers and green violet-eared hummingbirds in the gardens. Rufous-collared sparrows hung around like house sparrows, as common as dirt.

Soon we took a bus to a nearby road into the park and began birding in earnest. The day remained mostly gray and rain came in fits and starts—not enough to disrupt our birding, but enough to have to wipe our binoc lenses dry every few minutes. I was glad I'd brought my Muck Boots, even though they'd garnered me some ridicule from my fellow travelers. Was it the fact that I wore them on the plane ride to David? Or was it the boots' distinctive hunter-orange linings?

My ossumly orange muck boots in the David Airport. Sneaky photo by Jeffrey A. Gordon.

Anyway, back to the rainy cloud forest. . . which is redundant, I realize.

The birds did not seem to mind the temperature or the rain. Among the first species we all got good looks at were mountain thrush, black-billed nightingale-thrush, and ruddy treerunner (which looked like a 'roided-up brown creeper).

The group on the cloud forest trail. Far right is our guide, Ito, from Los Quetzales.

We had a smattering of "our" birds, too, including Wilson's and a black-and-white warblers.
I tried taking a few photos, but the rain was a bit daunting and the light was dim. We all donned our raincoats, ponchos, and hats. Some of us improvised, creating umbrellas from whatever was at hand.

Mike Frieberg with his jungle umbrella.

Lisa White sheltering from the storm.

Jeffrey A. Gordon trying to keep camera and head dry.

The road we were walking on seemed suitable only for foot or perhaps donkey traffic. We were shocked, however, to hear the rumble of an engine coming down the mountain. A few minutes later, a rickety farm truck pulled around the bend, belching exhaust, with a load of home-grown lettuce for the local market. Much of Panama's agriculture happens in this part of the country, blessed as it is with rich volcanic soil and ample water.

The Lechuga Express passing Jeff Gordon. Only really good drivers pass Jeff Gordon.

After about an hour on the trail, and while we were sorting through a small feeding flock of tanagers, thrushes, and warblers, I saw a large greenish bird swoop into a tree far above me. Its red belly meant it could only be one thing: a female resplendent quetzal! The looks were not great, but we all got to see her and one or two other younger birds. This would prove to be our only looks at this spectacular species. It was nice, but, who wouldn't want more?

Still, Los Quetzales had lived up to its name.

The rain started coming down harder. We tried another spot or two, then decided that we'd go back to the hotel to wait for the weather to break a bit.

Panama Birding Day 1

My most recent trip was to the isthmus of land that connects Central and South America: the country of Panama. I was the guest, along with seven other birders, of an organization called Panama La Verde Birding Circuits. The Panama La Verde group is trying to develop ecotourism (especially birding) routes connecting (mostly) rural hotels and lodges in places that have not been traditional stops for most tourists visiting Panama. Our familiarization trip was aimed at helping to spread the word about Panama. I plan to write a feature article in Bird Watcher's Digest in the future, so I shouldn't share everything here at Bill of the Birds.

But I do want to give you a flavor of birding in Panama, so we'll be visiting that fine tropical land over the next several days.

I arrived in Panama City late last Monday night on a Delta flight from Atlanta with Jeffrey A. Gordon (BWD field editor, regular tour leader and Leica birding rep) and Mike Freiberg (Nikon's full-time Pro Birder dude) also on board. All we had time to do was schlep from the Panama City airport to our hotel, The Albrook Inn.

Before we went to our rooms for the night, Jeff heard and then squeaked up a tropical screech-owl in the garden of the Albrook Inn. The trip's first good bird (nocturnal great-tailed grackles don't really count)!

The next morning we'd get up at 5 am to go BACK to the airport for a commuter flight to the western highlands of Panama, a region known as Chiriqui. Within 36 hours, I'd go from doing The Big Sit in my birding tower on my southeast Ohio farm to standing in the cloud forest of remote western Panama.

I. Could. Not. Wait.

From left: Cristina Cervantes, Yenia Mendoza of Panama La Verde (obscured), Lisa White, Jeffrey A. Gordon, Kees van Berkel, and Liz Payne.

My fellow travelers on the Panama La Verde trip were: the aforementioned Jeff Gordon and Mike Freiberg, plus Lisa A. White of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, Arizona birder and travel facilitator Liz Payne, birder/blogger/businessman John Ruitta, Cristina Cervantes general manager of birding tour company Tropical Birding, and Dutch birding tour leader Kees van Berkel.

¡Algo mas mañana mis amigos!