One might be excused for thinking that the world hardly needed another Costa Rica birding trip report, and in fact this would have remained an entry in my private journal but for the fact that the location where I spent the bulk of my vacation in Costa Rica - the Montezuma/Cabo Blanco area - has not, to the best of my knowledge, been covered by other birding trip reports. Cabo Blanco turned out to be very worthwhile and the following will contain some advice for birders and naturalists intending to explore its riches.
Costa Rica was the site of the best vacation I had ever taken, in 1993. During that visit I had spent two days or so at Monteverde and another six days or so in Quepos and Manuel Antonio National Park. I was not a serious birder then, and had done little to investigate the bird species of the area or to identify and list the birds I saw. My purpose this time around was to combine relaxation and recreation with some hardcore birding, and, hopefully, achieve another birding “century” - one hundred life birds in a single trip. As I had accomplished this feat, just barely, in the Yucatan two years earlier, my task in finding another hundred unfamiliar birds south of the birder would be moderately more difficult now. However, if it was to be done in Central America, Costa Rica was certainly the country for it. I also wanted to see at least some representatives from the more odd-looking Central American groups, such as the tinamous and the antpittas. Finally, I hoped to see the quetzal, the bellbird, and the umbrellabird.
As far as preparation, I of course used Stiles and Skutch’s “A Guide to the Birds of Costa Rica” as my field guide, and I can hardly imagine any serious birder heading to the country without a copy of this staple resource. I spent several weeks before the vacation studying the plates, focusing in particular on the similar pairs and groups (such as the Tyrannid flycatchers) to become familiar with their subtle differentiating characteristics. Between my job and other obligations I did not have time to learn calls and songs, so I did not obtain any audiorecordings although I understand there is an excellent CD available. I also reviewed a number of birding trip reports posted on the Net. For non-birding information I generally relied on one of the popular commercially published travel guides to Costa Rica.
I brought my relatively-new Audubon Equinox 8x42 binoculars, which served admirably. I also brought a Celestron Ultima 80 scope which was used only sparingly and which was never carried into the jungle with me.
In the following text I will, for the most part, mention a bird only the first time it was seen during the trip, although this will be a flexible guideline rather than a rule. Life birds appear in all capitals. My personal rules are that I must see and be able to identify a bird to add it to my life list. “Heard-only” birds do not count, although if I hear a recognizable song and see the singer - even as only a silhouette or in flight, such that the visual field marks are not observed - I will accept that as a life sighting, albeit a somewhat unsatisfying one. (As a consequence, it was many years after I heard my first Whip-poor-will that I was able to add the bird to my list; this was my typical experience with several nocturnal species.)
March 17 - I arrived in San Jose at about 1:00 p.m. having had no problems with the airlines, rented a car (a two-wheel-drive Toyota Corolla), and drove directly to Monteverde. On my previous visit I had not rented a car, so this was my first taste of driving in Costa Rica myself. The Pan-American Highway was everything it is cracked up to be - a modern road in very good shape driven at high speed by many ancient vehicles in very poor shape. At one point I was on a downslope when I came across a semi that had broken down in the oncoming lane. That would have been fine, but just as I was approaching the spot, I saw another eighteen-wheeler coming from that direction try to pass the stalled truck, and the second truck locked up its gears in my lane, pretty much right next to the first truck. At that point the road was two lanes, and if you’ve been keeping count, you’ll see that there were no unblocked lanes left. This fortunately led to a delay of only about twenty minutes and some precarious driving on the boundary between on- and off-road driving, which somehow failed to produce visible damage to my front bumper despite an ominous scraping noise from the bottom of the car.
Being alone in the car I had little opportunity to do any birding on the highway - it’s too dangerous in most spots to try to pull over and I wanted to get up the Monteverde road before it was dark. However, between San Jose and the pulloff for Monteverde I did have Turkey vulture, Black vulture, Tropical kingbird, Rock dove (or rock pigeon or pigeon or flying rat), a probable Common ground-dove, the first of many heard-only Red-eyed vireos, a heard-only Black-and-white warbler, and Ubiquitous (Great-tailed) grackles. After passing through the first community on the road to Monteverde I found sitting on a wire my first WHITE-THROATED MAGPIE-JAY, a dramatic-looking creature that was on my “wish list.” Had I known what awaited in Montezuma I would not have bothered to stop, but you never know which birds are going to be frequent sightings when you first arrive in a strange land.
The road leading up into the mountains left me underwhelmed. It was less ruts and steep vertical rises, as I had anticipated, and more stacked switchbacks and sharp stones. The two-wheel-drive Toyota, with automatic transmission, handled the road without difficulty. I do not think that I did the undercarriage any favors though. I reached Monteverde as the sun was setting and checked into the Pension Flor de Lis (also known as the “Pension Flor de Monteverde”), a basic but perfectly suitable base for exploring the reserve.
Two things were very different from my experience in 1993. First, as many have commented, there has been a great deal of development in Santa Elena and on the road leading up to the reserve itself. Eleven years ago a walk from the Pension to the reserve had been a largely peaceful pleasure. Today it is a dusty experience with fairly frequent road traffic. The second difference was the wind - both days I was in Monteverde there was a great deal of wind, occasioned, I am told, by the continuing denuding of the hills below, thereby eliminating the natural windbreak.
That evening I took the guided night tour at the reserve. Little in terms of bird species was seen, although the guide pointed out a sleeping EMERALD TOUCANET and Black-faced solitaire. The solitaire would have been a life bird, but, asleep with its face tucked into its back, it was to my eyes an undifferentiated ball of grey feathers. The guide also introduced us to the nectar-feeding bats which were visiting the reserve’s hummingbird feeders.
March 18 - I rose early enough to be at the reserve for the opening of the trails. In a tree at the margin of the parking area right in front of the administrative building were several MOUNTAIN ROBINS and a calling COLLARED TROGON. Almost as soon as I set foot on one of the reserve’s trails I had a good mixed-species flock with Prothonotary warbler, SLATE-THROATED REDSTART, Black-and-white warbler, and COMMON BUSH-TANAGER. A little way further on I found the first of many active GRAY-BREASTED WOOD-WRENS. Stepping out onto a small dirt promontory I found Violet sabrewings (the one hummingbird I could identify from my photographs from 1993), which were so large that at first I thought I had stumbled upon a pod of honeycreepers. The wind made finding birds very difficult, much less identifying them, particularly when I reached the elfin forest at the extremity of the reserve’s primary trails. I did have a brief glimpse of a SOOTY-CAPPED BUSH-TANAGER.
I had been warned that the Silvery-fronted tapaculo was a nemesis bird par excellence, a tiny skulker famed for teasing birders with its call but remaining invisible in dense vegetation, rarely flying, and never flying into the open. I had therefore, somewhat tongue-in-cheek, placed this bird on my conceptual “wish list.” Unfortunately when I reached the elfin forest the wind made it all but impossible to find ordinary birds, and completely dashed the prospect of scrutinizing underbrush for the tapaculo.
What happened next certainly qualifies as one of the most unexpected and fortuitous experiences of my birding career. As I was returning on the Sendero Camino, still in the elfin forest, I ran across a reserve guide with whom I had spoken at some length the night before. While we were comparing notes, a bird gave a rattling call from the side of the trail. The guide noted that it was the tapaculo’s call and it did match the description I remembered from the book (I have since confirmed this through review of sound files on the Net). Neither of us bothered to move to the windblown underbrush as it would have been an utterly futile effort. Then, suddenly, TWO SILVERY-FRONTED TAPACULOS burst from the exact location of the call, flew ACROSS THE PATH TEN FEET AWAY FROM US, and disappeared into the shrubbery on the other side! The guide looked at me in amazement and said “That was the tapaculo!” In his years of guiding at the reserve, he explained, he had actually seen the bird ony three or four times. It was a brief look without any of the visual field marks, but (because accompanied by a diagnostic call) it counted by my rules, and it was far more than I had any reason to expect. I count this as one of the great highlights of the trip.
Continuing back along the trail I hit another mixed-species flock with THREE-STRIPED WARBLER, COLLARED REDSTART, and YELLOWISH FLYCATCHER. A tree with some activity proved to hold a few SPANGLE-CHEEKED TANAGERS, which were also on my “wish list” simply because their plumage is so peculiarly patterned. I was getting close to the end of the trail when I ran across a group peering up into the foliage; directly above me was a large BLACK GUAN, moving slowly through the leaves.
Back at the reserve entrance, I made a midday stop at the hummingbird feeders, where you can quickly get five species and with patience see all seven expected in March. I got them all: Violet sabrewing, GREEN VIOLET-EAR, MAGENTA-THROATED WOODSTAR, GREEN-CROWNED BRILLIANT, PURPLE-THROATED MOUNTAIN-GEM, STRIPE-TAILED HUMMINGBIRD, and the endemic COPPERY-HEADED EMERALD. Bananaquits and Common bush-tanagers were also frequenting the feeders. Finally, at the reserve entrance I saw the first of a number of waking BLACK-FACED SOLITAIRES - they are very common and would be hard to miss, particularly with their typically ethereal, fluting thrush-song.
After taking a refreshing lunch I tried birding the entrance road to Monteverde. This was largely a mistake. Either because it was the afternoon or due to the vehicle traffic, I saw little and the time would have been better spent on the reserve trails or perhaps in a visit to the Santa Elena reserve. New birds for the trip included Brown jay, “Southern” house wren (at the administrative area), BLUE-AND-WHITE SWALLOW, FORK-TAILED EMERALD, Yellow-faced grassquit, Swainson’s thrush, and Ubiquitous (Great-tailed) grackles.
That evening I again took the night tour. After an hour and a half without seeing a single bird, and observing the same parade of tiny frogs, katydids, beetles, and olingos as the night before, I started to think I was wasting my time. However, I had mentioned to the guide that I hoped to see an owl; as we were nearing the end of the walk she abruptly motioned me forward. Somehow she had spotted an owl some thirty or forty feet up above the trail, visible only from its rump, even though it was not on a known roost and had been completely quiet! My estimation of her skills went up significantly as I studied the details of the sitting bird until it flew off. Later review of the books indicated that it was definitely a SPECTACLED OWL - my first non-North American owl species (setting aside some Short-eared owls observed in Scotland). This was the prize of the night and made the whole walk worthwhile.
March 19 - I had planned to take a guided tour this morning, but woke to drizzling rain. This has apparently been happening with increasing frequency in March although it was previously unheard-of to have significant precipitation before the rainy season. This year, according to locals and guides, has been particularly bad, with three straight weeks of wind and rain - in fact my first full day at Monteverde had been one of only two nice days that week.
However, I had a tip from a guide about a surefire site for quetzals at 6:00 a.m., so it was up and into the weather. Things got worse, of course, as I worked my way up to the reserve. It was worth it, however, as I found the bird himself at the precise spot named by the guide. The steady drizzle only heightened the dramatic beauty of a male RESPLENDANT QUETZAL, gazing tolerantly down at me from perhaps twenty feet up in a fruiting tree, completely in view. He was in full breeding plumage with long streaming green tail coverts reaching about two feet down. I cannot match the prose that has been recorded about this near-mythical bird’s stunning appearance, so I will not make the attempt.
Far off the howler monkeys were in full cry. At the reserve entrance I found a WHITE-THROATED ROBIN picking along the ground near one of the rail fences. A group was setting up with a tour guide to go into the reserve trail system, but the rain just kept getting worse and, having trod through a downpour in the reserve in 1993, I decided I would be better off in terms of bird activity if I headed for lower elevations where the rain would be less of an issue. I returned to the hotel to get breakfast and regroup.
I was still hoping to find a Three-wattled bellbird despite the increasing lateness of the morning, and I had read that the Finca Ecologica was a good bet for them, so that’s where I headed. It was hardly raining at all there. Walking the farm’s trail system yielded several WHITE-EARED GROUND-SPARROWS, RUFOUS-TAILED HUMMINGBIRDS, and Ubiquitous (Great-tailed) grackles, but little else that was identifiable, and no bellbird. As it had cleared up, I was hoping the Monteverde reserve would again be worth a check, so I headed back up the road. Along the way I picked up a fellow who was also out birding named Michael. He had been out with a guide along some side roads and knew of a spot for Long-tailed manakin so we took a detour off the main road and walked a ways along the side track. After some effort we managed slightly distant views of a perched LONG-TAILED MANAKIN male. We also saw Emerald toucanet (only a silhouette), Swallow-tailed kite, Great kiskadee, and, of course, Ubiquitous (Great-tailed) grackles.
Michael elected to continue birding in that area and I continued up to the reserve. The drizzle was hanging on at somewhat reduced volume but I headed out on the trail anyway. Most of the birds I saw were redundant of species seen earlier, especially Slate-throated redstarts and Black-faced solitaires, but at one point I happened across some woodcreepers and allies working the trees. The first identified was a SPOTTED WOODCREEPER; the second was the rare SPOT-CROWNED WOODCREEPER, of which there are allegedly few records for the reserve! Also with this flock was a leaftosser, probably Gray-crowned, but I saw it only in silhouette and could not identify it as to species.
About 3:30 p.m. I took my leave of the reserve and started the long drive down. I must have missed the only turn after Santa Elena, as I never reached the paved road, but locals on the way assured me that I would reach the Pan-American Highway by this route. This error had some benefits in terms of birds. A flock of ORANGE-CHINNED PARAKEETS in a tree led me to stop my car well down in the foothills, and that spot also gave me Black-crowned tityra. A flyover oropendola was already too far away when I spotted it to get even the simple cues that would have allowed me to identify which of the two species it represented (either would have been a life bird). Also seen on the road down from Monteverde were Inca dove, Blue grosbeak, Groove-billed ani, Ubiquitous (Great-tailed) grackles, and a Spotted sandpiper looking very out of place atop a roof well up in the hills.
I did reach the highway about 5:30 p.m., somewhat north of where I otherwise would have finished. This was a good thing in terms of time savings but I think the extra miles over sand-and-rock roads pushed the car’s undercarriage from “worn” to “damaged.” A bit of shielding popped loose under the front bumper and started scraping the road. After a few experiments, I eventually got it to stick more or less where it was supposed to be and it did not come loose again while I had the car.
My next destination was Montezuma, at the southern tip of the Peninsula de Nicoya, very close to Cabo Blanco Nature Preserve. There are essentially two ways to get there: drive south to Puntarenas and take the car ferry across the Golfo de Nicoya to Paquera and then drive to Montezuma from there, or drive north on the highway to the new bridge over the Rio Tempisque, cross on Route 18, and then come back down along the peninsular coast on Route 21. My guide book said that “while heading further north and crossing the bridge is more circuitious, you will be driving the whole time, which is quite a bit faster than a seaborne ferry.” It also said that the new bridge route would take “about 5 hours direct from San Jose.” Such small sentences to be the cause of so much misery.
I reached Route 18 about 6:00 p.m. The trip up to and over the bridge was fine, and carried a bonus - just after I turned onto Route 18 from the highway, I found a HARRIS’ HAWK (also known as BAY-WINGED HAWK) perched on the wires north of the road. It sat as I backed up and had a leisurely look through the binoculars. Also seen across the savannah here was a nighthawk, probably a Lesser. Route 18 went quite a ways west before finding Route 21, and it was fully dark by the time I turned south toward Playa Naranjo, Paquera, Tambor, and Montezuma.
I’ve driven the back roads of Texas; piloted an RV through the mountain roads of West Virginia, with branches scraping the sides and roof; navigated the highways of Syracuse in the aftermath of a hurricane-strength blizzard. I’ve driven down the 307 in Mexico in the dead of night. I’ve never encountered so hellish a stretch of road as the span of Route 21 leading to Playa Naranjo. The paved portions were worse than the unpaved, with short smooth sections interrupted suddenly by congeries of axle-busting potholes blanketing the road. That road is a screaming nightmare. It should not be driven by anyone, in any type of vehicle, ever.
I did not reach Montezuma and my hotel until 11:30 p.m. - a total of eight hours from the time I left Monteverde reserve, with really minimal birding along the way. My car was caked in dust and at some point one of the hubcaps had gone missing. I suspected the urchin in Montezuma proper who had so helpfully motioned me over to give me directions to the hotel, but I had to feel sorry for him living with the burden of those enormous buck teeth.
March 20 - In Montezuma I stayed at the Hotel los Mangos, a nice mid-range hotel with a great ocean view. The first day there I planned to relax a bit after the frenetic pace of the past three days. I woke somewhat later than normal and took in my surroundings in a leisurely fashion. Like every succeeding day in Montezuma, the weather was gloriously perfect - sun sailing through beautiful blue skies, and low humidity. Two RUFOUS-NAPED WRENS were playing in the hedge below, and White-throated magpie-jays were numerous, bold, and inquisitive. In fact, when I crossed the road to a little open-air restaurant right on the beach, the magpie-jays were perching on chairs at attended tables and thieving food and sugar packets. Brown pelicans, Magnificent frigatebirds, and an Osprey were expected sights on the ocean. Rufous-tailed hummingbirds plied the taller flowering shrubs. A BARE-THROATED TIGER-HERON flew in and landed on the large rocks just out of range of the surf. ORANGE-FRONTED PARAKEETS formed noisy coveys high in the open trees. Spotted sandpipers and a few Whimbrel were the only shorebirds in evidence.
A walk just down the road from the hotel turned up a trail to the local series of waterfalls, spectacular tropical paradises of water plummeting straight down from jungle openings into calm and temperate pools deep enough for swimming and illegal jumping. A trail leading back to one of the roads produced a White-tipped dove and an OLIVE SPARROW.
I inquired at the hotel about guides and was informed, by a couple of sources, that there was only one fellow in the area who led birding tours. Indeed, his advertisements were all over the place, and covered the gamut from birdwatching to horseback riding to hiking tours. I was introduced to the guy and we set up for an afternoon trip to an area south of the hotel which he promised was excellent for birds. Meeting at the appointed hour, we drove together to the top of the hill overlooking the aforementioned waterfalls, and parked at several spots on the road to explore on foot. A pair of RED-LORED PARROTS made an appearance in a large tree. A troop of howler monkeys came through at close range, including a large male with the pronounced jowls that permit the howlers to live up to their reputation. (I should note at this point that although I set my alarm for 5:00 a.m. every day after this, I never needed it; the howlers could be heard every morning starting at this time at the hotel, and, in fact, periodically moved through the trees right in the hotel’s back yard.) A woodpecker was easily seen to be a HOFFMAN’S WOODPECKER, and the guide pointed out a small hummingbird visiting flowers high in a leafy tree which he identified (and I confirmed) as a LITTLE HERMIT with obvious long central tail spikes.
Although the guide was excellent at spotting birds and getting details with his naked eye, I cannot say much for the state of his knowledge of the local avifauna. He did not know the English names for many birds. High on a hill, among dry deciduous scrub, he identified a pale Tyrannus as a Panama flycatcher - a bird which, I would later read, is only found in Pacific mangroves. We almost certainly saw a Brown-crested flycatcher instead. Most damningly, when an obvious Lesser nighthawk flew over, he said “That may be a hawk” - and started paging through the plates of raptors! I had to explain to him what a caprimulgid was and show him the plates with the nightjars, pointing out the differences between Common and Lesser nighthawks.
Other birds spotted on the “tour” were Black-headed trogon, Violaceous trogon, Barn swallow, an obliging Long-tailed manakin (much better viewed than the bird from the day before), a female Red-legged honeycreeper (the guide insisted that they had only Shining honeycreepers, and not Red-legged, in their area; the reverse was true, according to both Stiles and Skutch and my personal observations).
I spent the rest of the day swimming in the ocean and at the waterfall, and acquiring a good starting sunburn on my shoulders. That night I went into town for dinner. Montezuma is an incredible melting pot, with visitors hailing from every quarter, Sweden to Uruguay. I found myself in conversation with an affable surfer formerly of California. He was more interested in talking about olas (waves) than pajaros (birds), but then four chicas (figure that one out for yourself) joined us. Three of them were from Denmark and one was from Germany. A good time was had by all.
March 21 - The Cabo Blanco preserve proper did not open until 8:00 a.m., so for my early-morning birding I returned to the spots south of Montezuma where the guide had said birding was excellent. I saw several of the same birds as the prior afternoon, with new trip entries being Great-crested flycatcher, Dusky-capped flycatcher, and White-lored gnatcatcher. I also found here my first White-faced capuchin monkeys of the trip - far less tourist-inclined than their cousins at Manuel Antonio had been eleven years ago, I must say. From here I had a choice: return to the hotel to get some breakfast and then start at the preserve an hour or more after it opened, or skip breakfast and head straight to the preserve. I opted for the latter, which proved an unwise choice.
The road to Cabo Blanco was unpaved but generally unproblematic. Birds seen or heard on the drive included Common ground-dove, Blue ground-dove (heard only), White-tipped dove, Great kiskadee, and - surprise - Ubiquitous (Great-tailed) grackle. From the entrance to the preserve itself you drive an additional hundred yards or so of forested track to a parking area near the ticketing building. Then it’s about a four-kilometer trek on jungle paths to the beach.
Unfortunately, Cabo Blanco is a popular swimming area for locals and Ticos on vacation, so I had to share the trails with fairly frequent noisy groups moving back and forth to the water. Nevertheless the trails proved productive early on. Birds found here were Red-crowned ant-tanager (looking cryptically brown in the shade of the forest), STREAK-HEADED WOODCREEPER, Lineated woodpecker, a female BARRED ANTSHRIKE followed shortly by an accompanying splendid male, Sulphur-bellied flycatcher, Squirrel cuckoo, a bird that sounded like a Hairy woodpecker but was never seen, and a RUFOUS-AND-WHITE WREN.
I reached the beach about 11:00 a.m. and the heat and sun were both powerful. There is an islet off the southern point of Cabo Blanco where boobies were supposed to nest, but the prospect of crossing a long stretch of open beach and possibly ripening my sunburn to vacation-destroying levels dissuaded me from following that lead. Instead I turned immediately back into the jungle after refilling my water bottle at a spigot on the beach. (I never had any problems with water- or food-related illness during the vacation, although I drank the water in virtually every place I stayed.)
Here I ran into some trouble. Coming from the entrance, the first three plus kilometers of trail had risen steadily uphill; about the last seven hundred meters plummeted almost straight down. I had been hiking and birdwatching now for over six hours, had skipped breakfast, and found, to my dismay, that somehow I had forgotten to put my usual trail bars in my pack. It was well over twelve hours since I had anything to eat and that seven-hundred-meter clamber uphill absolutely exhausted my last reserves of energy. I make such a habit of pushing myself to the limits of my endurance that I had forgotten basic caution. In particular, I had failed to take into account that a kilometer in the Central American midday heat was equivalent to about three miles back home - particularly when it was almost all straight up, and carrying an unaccustomed heavy pack to boot! I found myself having to take long rests almost every quarter-kilometer and they were doing little to restore my strength.
What was worse, the trail was marked at the 3500 km and 3000 km points, and stumbling along I somehow missed the 3000 km sign - so for a long while I thought I had not even made a quarter of the trip back and it started to seem endless. A fellow trail-walker noticed I looked pretty worn-out and offered me some crackers. In my dehydrated state, I could not swallow the crackers; I had to use more of my precious small water bottle to get them down. I was stumbling more and more, and was in danger of pitching forward and cracking my head open. On the other hand, if I stopped and waited out the heat of the day, I would likely end up with a second-degree burn or heatstroke, so there was nothing for it but to keep going.
So I did what I always do, which is just keep putting one foot in front of the other. After a while of the Frodo-and-Sam thing, I reached the point where the path was no longer rising up to meet me and started heading generally downhill. The crackers had revived me somewhat, as did the fact that a numbered marker by the trail indicated I was, in fact, already halfway to the exit! Eventually I walked out of the forest more or less steadily, drove back to the hotel, guzzled several gallons of water, ate two lunches, and dozed on the hotel balcony for a couple of hours. Miraculously, I found that my conscientious reapplications of sunblock had prevented any noticeable harm to my sunburn during the long walk through the forest.
Later that afternoon I felt pretty refreshed and returned again to the area south of Montezuma where the guide had pointed out a nesting site. I immediately found there the BLUE-CROWNED MOTMOTS that had eluded me in the morning. Overhead a WHITE-COLLARED SWIFT joined the Barn swallows as the evening descended. With that, I called an end to a long, sobering day.
March 22 - The guide had told me that there was a location four kilometers to the north where birding was also quite good. Since there was only one road leading north from Montezuma, I figured all I had to do was go four kilometers or so in that direction and then explore the general area by foot. This strategy worked fairly well; I found myself in a dry upland area with some good bird activity. STRIPE-HEADED SPARROWS were in the roadside scrub. Yellow warblers, another Barred antshrike, and a wire-sitting Turquoise-browed motmot were also present. A Masked tityra completed the tityra set for Costa Rica, and Brown-crested flycatchers and White-collared seedeaters also appeared.
Back at the hotel I had another look at the tall roadside flowering shrubs, where I found CINNAMON HUMMINGBIRDS interspersed with their Rufous-tailed cousins. A Boat-billed flycatcher gave its characteristic whiny call. Caspian and Royal terns and an Olivaceous cormorant passed by while I took lunch at another oceanside open-air restaurant. On my way back to the hotel from lunch I found good raptor movement over the ridge behind the building, including a soaring DOUBLE-TOOTHED KITE that looked like a flying cross with its long, narrow wings.
It being Monday, Cabo Blanco Preserve was closed. I thought this afternoon might be an opportune time to visit the entrance road, which, without disturbance from hordes of holiday beach-seekers, could be quite productive. This was a very good move and bird activity proved high. Among the species seen there before, I found Social flycatcher, Rufous-tailed hummngbird, and a very familiar orange and black bird - a male Baltimore oriole, far from its summer range. Just at the beginning of the trail system I happened upon one of the legendary ant swarms of the tropics, which was attended by a number of species, including GREY-HEADED TANAGER, Ruddy woodcreeper, Streak-headed woodcreeper, both motmots, and the distinctive BARRED WOODCREEPER.
Returning from the preserve I stopped at a small creek that had caught my attention before, and which I had vowed to inspect more closely. A fellow birder was already in place and together we scrutinized a panoply of waders and shorebirds - Cattle, Snowy, and Reddish egrets; Green (or Green-backed), Tricolored, Little Blue, Yellow-crowned night, and Boat-billed herons; Ruddy turnstone; Whimbrel; Willet; Least sandpiper; and Western sandpiper. While I was focused on the shorebirds, a bird apparently flew overhead unobserved by me, which the other birder said was “the large kingfisher” - presumably meaning Ringed kingfisher. I was sorry I had missed it, but the day had been very enjoyable and I decided to return the following morning, when the preserve would again be closed, to see what a quiet morning in Cabo Blanco was like.
March 23 - This was the best morning’s birding so far. On the way to Cabo Blanco I found Blue-black grassquits plentiful in the roadside pastures, and observed more Blue-and-white swallows. The entrance road to Cabo Blanco was absolutely hopping with activity: RUFOUS-CAPPED WARBLER, ORANGE-BELLIED TROGON, Sulphur-bellied flycatcher, Lesser greenlet, DOT-WINGED ANTWREN, at least two GREY-NECKED WOOD-RAILS on the road itself and in no hurry to move to concealment, and a PLAIN WREN all joined the other tropical birds for an easy and fun viewing experience. Oh, and let us not forget, of course, the Ubiquitous (Great-tailed) grackles seen on the drive in. The wood-rails, the wren, the trogon , and the antwren had all been on my “wish list,” so I left very pleased with the experience.
On the way back I again stopped at the small stream hoping to get a look at the kingfisher. That bird did not make a repeat appearance, but a small covey of Red-billed pigeons arrived to drink or bathe, and I was able to study them much more carefully than the bird I had briefly sighted in Mexico two years earlier. It’s always nice to eliminate those lingering doubts about a brief life sighting.
My time in Montezuma was now up - fortunately, with my sunburn well under control - and this time I had sworn a terrible oath to take the ferry from Paquera to the mainland and avoid that damnable road north of Playa Naranjo. On the way to Paquera I found Cliff swallows on a wire with Barn swallows; my first (!) Laughing gulls of the trip; a White-winged dove at the ferry embarkation pier; and another Barred antshrike on the way. Plus, of course, Ubiquitous (Great-tailed) grackles galore.
The ferry was a relaxation and a pleasure after the terrible drive of a few days earlier, and as a hoped-for bonus it passed by Isla Guayabo and thus gave the possibility of some sulid sightings. About halfway across one bird appeared which was obviously of a different physiology than the plentiful pelicans; I studied the marks carefully as it came quite close to the boat and displayed its plunge-diving skills. It matched perfectly to the plate of the BLUE-FOOTED BOOBY. A little while later a large, uniformly brown-backed bird flew away from the boat - the BROWN BOOBY which a rare display of prudence had cost me two days before. (The text of Stiles and Skutch on this species’ status in Costa Rica’s waters is not entirely clear, but one reading suggests that Brown booby is not to be found in the Golfo de Nicoya. If that is indeed the intended meaning, I can only say “Bollocks,” which is fairly peculiar given that I am not in the slightest bit English.)
As we moved in toward the dock at Puntarenas, Royal and ELEGANT TERNS greeted the ship. Another wish-list bird seen!
My next destination was the Tarcoles area, but on the way I made a detour to Orotina, which has perhaps the most famous town square among birders. I later learned that I had probably arrived too late in the afternoon and my quarry was out hunting. Whatever the explanation, a diligent search failed to turn up the local specialty, but I did find Clay-colored robins plentiful, and a BLUE-GREY TANAGER regarded me curiously from the back of a park bench. On the way out of Orotina on Route 34 heading west, I started up a large carrion bird from the road - a YELLOW-HEADED CARACARA. I stopped the car where it was safe and walked back a ways, playing a game of tag with the bird as it flew from treetop to treetop while uttering its asthmatic “wheeenaaah” call.
I reached the bridge over the Rio Tarcoles at about 5:30 p.m. - absolutely perfect timing. Within five minutes the Tarcoles’ area most famous residents were flying in the direction of the sunset and the Pacific mangroves, raucously screaming as they passed. The SCARLET MACAW is a tropical marvel which is probably recognizable to people everywhere, even if they do not necessarily know the bird’s common name. It is dramatic in its finery, with bright red, yellow, and blue plumage; tail feathers that stream far behind the flying bird; and a voice like a cat being strangled.
The flats and river itself added Great blue heron, Northern jacana, Red-winged blackbird (now thought to be breeding in Costa Rica widely), and a hovering White-tailed kite, as well as another Yellow-headed caracara.
I took dinner at the Restaurante Cocodrillos at the northern end of the bridge - good food and reasonable prices - and then drove to Jaco to find my intended hotel. Jaco reminded me a bit of Las Vegas without the grandeur: screaming lights, neon signs, people walking or bicycling everywhere, and terrible traffic. A car with one of those broadcasting loudspeakers was working the strip, back and forth. It seemed like a place of high stakes and vibrant energy, affording the American tourist all the nightlife of a recreational metropolis. I got the heck out of there as fast as my car would take me.
After failing to find any hotels back in Tarcoles in the dark, I finally noted a sign for the Cabinas Paraisos by the road, and stopped there. The rate of $15 for a night seemed like a bargain until I saw the room. Although air-conditioned, overall it was a dump and the toilet wouldn’t flush. As long as I have a roof over my head I’m fine (and sometimes I can do without that), but I resolved to get out of the hotel the next day. I might add this was the one place in Costa Rica that I refused to drink the tap water. I should also note here that the next day I was surprised to discover the place had a very nice, clean pool!
That night I heard a pygmy-owl, but was unable to get it to come in closer.
March 24 - The next morning I returned to the Rio Tarcoles bridge. Here were a small flock of BLACK-BELLIED WHISTLING DUCKS, and a Crested caracara pulled a flyover. Continuing south I found the headquarters for the Carara Biological Reserve, home of possibly the most famous trail in birdwatching lore. While waiting for the reserve to open so I could get my ticket, I saw Scrub euphonia, Lineated woodpecker, Violaceous trogon, more Scarlet macaws, and a ROSE-THROATED BECARD female. In Costa Rica the becards actually lack the rose color on the throat, but the female was still a handsome bird.
Ticket purchased, I drove back north toward the river about two kilometers until finding a fairly inconspicuous drive down to a small parking area. The sign read “Sendero Meandrico,” but most birders know this place by a different name: the Vigilancia.
The mighty Vigilancia.
It has almost become a cliche that starting the Vigilancia it can be difficult just to leave the parking lot. Bird movement was unbelievable. Right there I saw a pair of SLATY-TAILED TROGONS, a female Dot-winged antwren with a chestnut belly and breast, and another Streak-headed woodcreeper, among other birds. Starting along the trail the birds just kept coming, including both Northern and Louisiana waterthrushes, WESTERN LONG-TAILED HERMIT, ORANGE-COLLARED MANAKIN at the lek site on the first side trail, Ruddy ground-dove, SCALY-BREASTED HUMMINGBIRD, a male Red-legged honeycreeper, PLAIN XENOPS, a well-seen (finally!) male BLUE GROUND-DOVE, Chestnut-sided warbler in its nonbreeding dress, Ovenbird, Great egret on the stream, Purple gallinule, COMMON TODY-FLYCATCHER, BLACK-HOODED ANTSHRIKES everywhere, two RUFOUS-TAILED JACAMARS perched up on an eye-level branch, YELLOW-OLIVE FLYCATCHER identified with the help of a guide, Piratic flycatcher, WHITE-SHOULDERED TANAGER, and VARIABLE SEEDEATER, all to the background of moving Howler and White-faced capuchin monkeys and a calling bird that a guide indicated was a forest-falcon.
I had spoken with a couple of the guides (you are always running into guide-led tour groups on the trail) about the Orotina situation, and one advised getting there in the heat of the day. So after things quieted down - at least relatively - on the trail, I took a quick lunch at the Cocodrillos again and headed back to Orotina, which is only perhaps twenty minutes away. I had just begun my search of the town square when a local helpfully led me to the right spot and pointed up. There, wings partly spread to combat the heat, was a roosting BLACK-AND-WHITE OWL, a deep-forest species that quixotically has made this town square its home for many years. I studied the owl for a long while, bemused at my luck at actually seeing TWO tropical owl species this trip.
I moved myself out of the Cabinas Infernos and checked into the Hotel Villas Lapas, the name of which I remembered from one of the birding trip reports I had reviewed before leaving America. I managed to finagle something of a bargain by telling the hotel manager that I would be writing a report on the Internet about my trip, so he gave me a cheaper all-inclusive rate which guaranteed me dinner, breakfast, and lunch. It was still pretty expensive but I would be there only one night. There were multiple buildings there, and mine seemed fairly humble from the outside, but when I went in I had a real surprise. The room was absolutely enormous and comparatively opulent. Later when I explored the hotel grounds I would realize what a fish out of water I was here. I am not inclined to heavily luxurious surroundings or being waited on hand and foot, but if that’s your thing, the Hotel Villas Lapas is for you. The complex is extensive and has been set up like a planned community, with bandstand, “artisan’s village,” a magnificent bridge over a creek, and sprinklers everywhere keeping the alien grass artificially green. It is difficult to ignore that acres of forest must have been destroyed to create this playground for the wealthy. However, they already had my credit card information, and I must admit it was a relief to take a cool shower in clean surroundings.
Back to the Vigilancia in the afternoon, and the lifers just would not stop. BUFF-THROATED SALTATOR, CHERRIE’S TANAGER (recently split from Scarlet-rumped or Passerini’s tanager, which would also have been a life bird), BLUE-BLACK GROSBEAK, RIVERSIDE WREN, RUDDY QUAIL-DOVE, Roseate spoonbill, and BAY-HEADED TANAGER all were seen. The tanager gave me some difficulty. Because of a misreading of my notes I thought I had found a female Blue-hooded euphonia, which would have been severely out of place at Carara. However, the overall impression of the euphonia was all wrong, and eventually I realized my error and figured out what I had seen.
(Note: There appears to be a conflict of opinion among the authorities as to the identity of the actual Vigilancia. Many birding trip reports, and at least one published book of birding sites in the tropics, consider the trail labeled the Sendero Meandrico - the one with the side-trail to the lek of Orange-collared manakins - to be the Vigilancia. An official at Carara headquarters also so advised me. However, two longtime guides told me that the Vigilancia was a trail just SOUTH of the headquarters, which formerly could be reached by a trailhead on the road, but which now is supposed to be accessed only by first navigating the trail system at the headquarters itself. One thing all parties agree upon, however, is that the trail two kilometers north of the headquarters, the one with the sign reading “Sendero Meandrico,” is the most productive for birding. For purposes of this report, I will continue to refer to that trail as the Vigilancia, and would suggest for uniformity’s sake that others do the same regardless of the historical truth of the matter.)
March 25 - Across the highway from the road to the hotel was the road to Tarcoles itself. At first light I drove in and continued on to Playa Azul, where I followed the Jacksons’ directions to the mangroves on the shore. Along the way I heard another pygmy-owl but could not find it. In the area of the mangroves I found Common (“Mangrove”) black-hawk, Yellow (“Mangrove”) warbler, a well-studied WESTERN KINGBIRD, and a YELLOW-BELLIED ELAENIA. A hummingbird made a brief appearance and was almost certainly the endemic Mangrove hummingbird, but I could get no details on it. There was no sign of the Panama flycatcher.
On the walk back to the car I reflected that I had now heard two pygmy-owls but it looked like I was not going to see any. At that precise moment I raised my eyes, and would you believe it, there was the fellow himself perched in easy view in a tree - a FERRUGINOUS PYGMY-OWL! He looked at me sleepily, then turned to face the other direction, and the false “eyes” on his nape scrutinized me instead.
While eating breakfast at the hotel, I saw a couple of hummingbirds show up high in a tree. One looked for all the world like a male Snowcap, but that would be an extreme vagrant for the area. Another was a female Green-breasted mango.
When Carara opened I hit the trails at the headquarters. I was disappointed that no tinamous had been seen this vacation, but the first life bird I found this morning was a VERY obliging GREAT TINAMOU foraging deliberately along the path. I had all the time I wanted to examine this primitive-looking bird, which vaguely resembles a tailless grouse. Just twenty yards further on I came across a tour group with a guide anxiously trying to tape in another wary terrestrial species. Fortunately my habitual quiet approach had not startled it; the guide motioned me forward and I came in low and slow. They had not yet seen the target bird, but within a couple of minutes of my arrival I noted some movement. Gradually the bird came into view and soon gave great looks - a SPECTACLED (or STREAK-CHESTED) ANTPITTA! The illustrations of this unusual bird, with its oval tailless body, big eyes, relatively long legs, and upright posture, give the impression of something that belongs in a Jim Henson production, but as often happens the effect in the wild is much more natural; everything falls into place and the bird makes sense. At least, it did until it started inflating itself like a pufferfish to vocalize, which was just plain odd to see. Two of the “weird” tropical families sampled in the space of five minutes, and the reclusive antpitta to boot! I was on a roll.
My luck held - I had been looking for Baird’s trogon but not found one, though other groups had seen a few on the Vigilancia. As I moved on I heard several birds calling that I thought matched the book’s description for the trogon. At Carara there are principally four ways to find birds, one auditory and three visual. The auditory method, of course, is to hear the bird’s movement, call, or song. The first visual method is to see the bird itself, whether by silhouette or as a patch of color against the greenery. The second visual method is to detect the bird’s movement. The third visual method is to come across a group of birders and a guide with a scope pointed up into the canopy - and that’s how I came across a female BAIRD’S TROGON. The day just kept getting better.
PALE-BILLED WOODPECKERS hammered at a large tree, and it was impossible not to think of the extinct Ivory-billed woodpecker formerly of North America and Cuba. A male BLUE-CROWNED MANAKIN was seen, followed by a probable female bathing in a stream. A sudden flurry of birds produced the long-missed RUFOUS-BROWED PEPPERSHRIKE which I had heard, but been unable to locate, in Mexico; OLIVE-STRIPED FLYCATCHER; BUFF-THROATED FOLIAGE-GLEANER; Dot-winged antwren; Lesser greenlet; and another Chestnut-sided warbler, this one showing off its chestnut streaks. Unbelievably, on the back leg of the trail I was rounding a bend and started a bird up off the path which landed only six feet away at waist-height on a log, fully in view: my second Spectacled antpitta of the day! It looked at me in perplexity, and for all I know it was wondering what I was doing there that late in the morning, since the tourists were scheduled to be gone by 10:30.
I returned to the hotel for lunch and found two tanagers on the grounds: PALM TANAGER and the beautiful GOLDEN-HOODED TANAGER.
I could not remember at the time whether I had seen Black-headed or Buff-throated saltator in Mexico, but depending on that issue I was either three or four birds from my goal of one hundred lifers. I felt very confident with another afternoon’s birding at Carara headquarters ahead of me. First, though, I returned to Tarcoles and Playa Azul for another try at the hummingbird and the flycatcher, and a stab at Collared plover. None of the desired birds were to be found, however, and I had to content myself with Semipalmated and Black-bellied plovers, Sanderlings, and a lone Greater yellowlegs.
The trails back at Carara headquarters, unfortunately, were not greatly active. I did find another wish-list bird, the ROYAL FLYCATCHER, which did not open its splendid crest; and several ORANGE-BILLED SPARROWS appeared on the trails. I also found a loose group of three Great tinamous, and after almost being brained by falling debris I got a good look at a Scarlet macaw feeding high in a tree.
With the light fading I hurried off the trails and returned to the Rio Tarcoles bridge for one last stab at the Collared plover, but although people had seen one working the flats only half an hour earlier, it was by that time disappeared, presumably to its evening haunts. A single pair of Scarlet macaws passed into the sunset. I began the drive back to San Jose only one or two birds short of my goal!
March 26 - I stayed at the Hotel Cacts in San Jose, which was quite decent despite the questionable neighborhood. A pre-breakfast walk to the nearby park produced the first of many, many RUFOUS-COLLARED SPARROWS. At the hotel’s third-floor breakfast area a hummingbird came to the feeders which could have been a Steely-vented, but I did not have a sufficient time to study it. I hoped to fit a quick trip to the Parque del Este or the university grounds in amongst my errands to get more Valle Central birds, but the San Jose street system defeated me. Driving in San Jose - ha!
My time was up and I had to leave. The return trip was mostly problem-free, with only a moderate delay in my flight from Houston to Cleveland, and I even made a very pleasant new acquaintance on the plane.
I arrived home just past midnight. After taking care of various necessities, I thought to check my bird records. It was indeed the Black-headed saltator that I had seen in Mexico, which meant the Buff-throated was a life bird. That in turn meant that the Rufous-collared sparrows in San Jose comprised life species number one hundred for the trip, and I’d achieved the century once more. I had only left to me the task of writing up this report and ensuring that it was as accurate as possible (except for the part about the buck teeth).
It was a wonderful trip, but no more birds for a while, please!