Friday, January 5, 2024

2024 Oregon Owls

 I live in Lake Oswego Oregon with my wife Tui, my sons Charlie (12) and George (9) and sassy pitbull Maile. This post is about the owls I find in Oregon this year.

Jan 4th. Returning from a night walk with Maile I heard a barn owl screeching as it flew over our yard. 

Jan 7th. While walking Maile after dark, I heard a barn owl screeching in the neighborhood.

Jan 14th. Charlie, Maile and I were walking at Luscher Farms when we found a dark roosting barn owl in a Doug fir. 

Jan 21st. Maile and I got up before dawn and headed down to Browns Ferry. The trail was covered in icy slush and it drizzled slightly. Despite this I heard a great horned owl singing, and eventually saw it fly over the Tualatin river. A few minutes later I found a barred owl perched low in an alder tree at first light. 

Jan 27th. I heard a great-horned owl singing through my bedroom window. Sure enough I found the owl perched high in a cedar tree in the back yard.  

Feb 3rd. While at Iron Mountain, Tui and I heard a whole gang of agitated robins, jays and chickadees. After a lot of searching, I eventually found a pygmy owl high in a maple tree. 

Feb 4th. I walked Maile along Bount Swale at first light on a lovely frosty morning. I was hoping to find a barn owl, but instead heard a distant great-horned owl.

Feb 9th. I visited Coffee Creek Wetlands before dawn to look for owls. I heard an dog like 3 note call from high in some fir trees. I was eventually able to track down the owl-a great horned. This is the first time I have heard this three note call. 

Feb 23rd. Maile and I walked Iron Mountain (Lake Oswego), and heard a great-horned owl singing nearby.

March 2nd. Around dawn I heard and then saw a barred owl at Brown's Ferry.

March 3rd.Charlie, Maile and I went to Powell Butte at dusk in search of a long eared owl reported last week. We didn't see it, but did find both a singing pygmy owl, and a hunting great-horned owl.

March 15th. I got up early and went to Elk Rock, where I found a screech owl near the entrance to the park.

March 26th-28th. A few days before, Charlie and I had attempted to head out to the John Day River. East of Government Camp we got a flat. Our car has run flat tires, so we had no spare. We tried to use a can of goo on the tire, but it only slowed the leak. It was a miserable day, with sleet and heavy rain, and reluctantly we decided to return to Portland.

Equipped with new tires, we headed out East again. Just North of Clarno we found a great-horned owl nesting in Cottonwoods. We found a beautiful place to camp in a grove of mature juniper trees. Once we had set up camp and eaten, we hiked up the slope towards Chinaman Hat. Our goal was Tule Lake, which I imagined would be a haven for owls in this desiccated land.   

                                                View about 1/2 mile above camp

It was a beautiful bright afternoon. 


                                Maile intrepidly ventures past the No Trespassing sign. 

We eventually reach Tule lake, just as it gets dark. From there we descend, stopping to listen at the denser groves of junipers and creek-side willows. We hear 5 screech owls, and a brief, oh so distant long-eared owl. Tired and happy we make it back to camp around 10pm. We make a fire and cook up cocoa and ramen to replenish.

That night I hear a screech owl calling from the junipers and a great-horned calling from the badlands above the tent.

I wake early and walk around the juniper stand looking for roosting owls and drinking coffee. After breakfast we walk down to the John Day and start looking for owls in the riparian corridor. It  isn't long before some fresh whitewash alerts me, and moments later a long eared owl flushes. The bird perches for a minute, then drops out of sight further in the thicket.

I am thrilled, last night's calling bird was my first in Wasco County, but it's immeasurably better to see one! We explore a bit more, and run into a flock of wild turkeys. I hike back up the side of the valley hoping for more roosting owls, but find none. I decide to head out via Condon to the Heppner area in search of short eared owl. Leaving Clarno it starts to pour, and for a couple of hours the rain is remarkable. We consider returning home, but once we have reception, the phone promises a dry evening. Between Condon and Heppner we find many rough-legged hawks and another great-horned on a roadside nest. Best of all the curlews are back, and we delight, watching them float in the wind as they sing.

Our first stop is just East of Heppner. The valley is saturated with pheasants, chucka and gray partridge. Despite a long cold walk we find no owls. We then follow Sand Hollow Road to the pass. From our windswept perch atop of the pass we park and cook dinner on the stove. Two wonderful short eared owls emerge from the grassland and start hunting the golden hillsides. I'm enthralled watching the owls catch the wind and float like kestrels in the wind. Beyond us the Blues are dusted in snow. It's just a perfect place. 


                                             Looking North from Sand Hollow Road

This was my first short eared owl sighting in Morrow County.  We follow Sand Hollow road North, finding a pair of Great-horned owls nesting by the road. At Hermiston we charge the car, then we follow the interstate East to Quesna County Park on the Columbia. We see a roadside barn owl in the headlights as we pull into the park. The park is in a beautiful setting, but the transcontinental freight trains, and a couple of cars creepily driving up to our tent make for a interrupted night's sleep.


17


Wednesday, June 21, 2023

Sumatra 2023

For at least ten years I had been thinking about an owling trip to Sumatra. I had a trip planned for 2020, but it was cancelled due to the Covid pandemic. While preparing for this trip, I decided to do the whole trip independent of local guides. This is a break from my current trend of using guides. Although I really enjoyed the companionship of Antonio (Mexico 2020 and 2021), Mauricio (Ecuador 2021) and Alex (Brazil 2022), owling with a guide is fundamentally different from a trip by myself. Traveling by myself is much more stressful. Prior to getting to a location, I usually feel a lot of tension about solving logistical problems. Finding owls is a lot more demanding without local expertise. However, when I am able to successfully pull off both the logistics of getting to the forest, and find the owls independently, the satisfaction feels great. It's also rare to have a real adventure when working with a guide. Usually the worst that can happen is you don't find the owl. Owling alone is much more fraught, and in there lies the nub of why it's a richer experience.


June 2nd. I say goodbye to Charlie and Maile and walk across the park to the light rail. It's strange to ride the train without my youngest, George, who loves to travel by train. I ask myself why I can't be satisfied with family life and why do I always want to leave? I wait for ages for my flight to San Francisco. Things work just fine there, and eventually I board my night flight for Singapore. It's a grueling 17 hour flight and it's really hard to sleep in the middle seat. 

June 4th. At Singapore I am told by an immaculately dressed airport employee I can't go through transfers, and have to pass immigration, before I can access my connecting flight. It's a chaotic hour of running through a huge terminal, trying to navigate the electronic immigration process, taking a bus to another terminal, being told that I am too late to check in, and then having an airline supervisor intervene so I make my flight. I fly to Kuala Lumpur, and then take another flight out to Medan. It's another tight connection at Medan, and again I have to get through immigration and security. My last leg of the journey is the slow flight out to Nias on a tired twin prop Wings plane. 

Nias is a large island West of Sumatra. It's famous for being inhabited for millennia and for having been at the forefront of the terrible 2004 boxing day tsunami. In the small terminal at Gunung Sititoli I find everything I need; a working ATM, a cafe that serves Nasi Goreng and a fixer, who sets me up with transportation to my first site, Onolimbu village. An hour later my driver, Aru, drops me off in a small village. The site does not look great, there are small woodlots, and lots of fields and roadside homes. We step outside the air-conditioned Kijang into the hot sun, Aru smokes, then we say goodbye. I set off to look for good habitat. I soon discover a network of trails through dense, swampy second growth forest. The trails are built up on planks and bamboo poles above shallow standing water. Later I walk the narrow concrete road through the village of Onolimbu to a wide beach boarded by pastures. The sea is completely calm. A soccer match has started, and a crowd has gathered. The people are incredibly friendly, almost everyone calls out a greeting, many in English. Mostly I talk with young guys, whose enthusiasm and warmth borders on softness, and is the polar opposite of militarized young American guys in small towns. 

It's already late in the afternoon so I decide to look for a spot to bivy. I select a raised shelter in a small clearing behind the village for my camping spot. Aside from the abundant mosquitos and the heat it seems like a fine place to spend the night. I stash my bag in a bamboo stand, then return to the shelter and relax as the sun slowly sets. A pair of noisy woodpeckers calls from a dead snag across the clearing.

I decide to start owling before it gets completely dark. Exploring the swampy wood, frogs abound under foot, and I keep an eye out for snakes. It's really noisy with singing frogs, geckos and cicadas. After a few minutes I hear the long begging call of a young strix! My target, the Nias wood owl! I walk slowly towards the sound through viney tangles and downed logs. Soon I hear an adult bird calling from a stand of palms. Under the palms, I see the owl fly silhouetted against the evening sky, and then perch briefly on a palm. I am able to spotlight it, and see it's a large-headed owl with big dark eyes. The face is orange-brown and the breast is rust-colored and faintly barred. The bird looks distinctly smaller than the brown wood owls that I had seen in Kerala. Now two adult birds call, one has a deep single hoot, and the other a series of about five soft hoots in rapid succession. This is surprisingly easy.

Oriental Bay owl is also known from Nias. This is a widespread bird, but it would be a new owl for me, so I decide to search for it. I continue exploring the swampy trails. I see tons of frogs, and hear multiple Nias wood owls. I eventually walk through the village and down to the beach. There is no breeze, and it's intensely humid. Everyone says "hello". I hear two more pairs of Nias wood owls, quite close to each other, and eventually find one to spotlight. I am even able to show a group of local guys the owl, when they approach me and ask what I am doing. It's great to get a sustained view of the owl, but I am so sweaty that my bins keep fogging up. I walk back to the village, and a large group of guys joins me. One guy asks me about my plans, and reluctantly I reveal that I plan on camping in the woods. He takes me to the head of the village. After a lot of conversation they let me know that they want to run me to a hotel that's up the road. I try and insist on camping, but it's clear they are not OK with that. About eight of us leave on motorcycles, stopping along the way, so I can retrieve my carefully hidden bag.

As we ride out of the villages, most of my companions leave, and eventually it's just me and the village head on one bike, and a guy who speaks better English on another. We ride for about 45 minutes, and eventually stop at a small village police station. Here things get weird. The police officer asks to see what's in my bag, so I reluctantly show him. He also asks to see my money, to which I decline. " I have money, but I don't want to show you" I explain. They then ask if they can video an interview with me. I start to feel really uneasy, but agree. A guy pulls out a mobile phone and videos me answering basic questions like where I am from etc. I am really tired by now, and just want this to be over. Eventually the officer offers me a small room. I initially take it for a cell, and don't want to go in, but then realize it's his little dorm (because it's full of log books and he removes a couple of personal belongings from it). I agree and thank him. The crowd disperses and within a couple of minutes I fall into a deep sleep.

June 5th. I wake at first light to the sound of roosters, surprised to find myself on a small wooden cot in an Indonesian police station. I decide to leave, before I can get any more embroiled in other people's plans for me. I thank the policeman who gave me his room, and walk up the road. After about a kilometer I find a roadside warung and order noodle soup and hard boiled eggs. The food comes with blazing hot chilies that lights me up and has me sweating like crazy. My nose runs, and my head glows with the heat of the chilies, but I persevere because it's delicious. I continue my walk towards Gunung Sititoli, the main city on Nias. School is about to start, and I am amazed by the number of kids in different uniforms walking and riding their bikes and motorbikes to school. Eventually I am able to flag down a ride. I am surprised that the driver is a woman running a couple of folks up to the airport. (These types of jobs are usually held by guys in Indonesia. Women work service jobs, like flight attendants, or in stores. The dynamic of being a woman driver, and being alone with men in cars makes this a very challenging for some Indonesian people to accept). My driver chain smokes and when we get to the airport high fives the other drivers. It's always cool to meet women breaking away from traditional roles. After the airport, she runs me up to town, and drops me off at the Nasional hotel. It's a hot, big box of concrete on the waterfront. Town is quite big, and busy. The people are still friendly, and it feels like a welcoming place to walk around, even if it's hot and noisy. 

It's barely mid morning and I don't have a lot to do. I spend the day resting, having lunch and then looking for a place to change my dollars (which I don't succeed in doing). I have one more night in Nias. My goal is to head to a small wood above town and look for owls there. It's not a bold plan, but I have a very early flight and I don't want to arrange for a driver to pick me up from a remote part of Nias in the wee hours. Instead I take a 4km evening walk along the main road, that follows the calm bay side, then up a short, but remarkably steep road to a hill above town. The hill has a few hectares of forest and some small farms. I sit on a big rock and watch the sun set and see the swiftlets and bats feed over the fields. 

                                                        Hilltop above Gunung Sititoli
 

Just like the night before, I hear a juvenile wood owl begging, then a couple of adults calling back and forth. Eventually an adult bird approaches very closely. I get a great, but brief view of the rust colored owl as my flashlight scares it back into parts unseen in the forest. Again I am struck by how small and brightly colored these owls are. Tonight I hear a low longish hoot, and from a second bird, a higher pitched hoot. I am unable to detect any bay-owls, and can't find any forest trails to explore. I enjoy the night walk back to the hotel. I stop by a really friendly warung, run by a family from Ache who serve me up their traditional saucy noodles. 

June 6th. I had arranged a driver to take me to the airport, and everything works as planned. I catch the first flight to Medan, then transfer to another small plane bound for Simeulue. Simeulue is a smaller island Northwest of Nias. From the air, things look promising, with good forest surrounding the airport. Using Google maps, I learn there is a bunch of surf lodges near the airport. I take a motorcycle a few kilometers to Salt Surf Lodge. We pull into a beachy-looking place. In front of the lodge is a reef, over which some lovely-looking waves arc and then brake. A few surfers ride the waves in, taking care to splash into the water before hitting the reef.  

The lodge is a little pricey, but I appreciate it's location (near good habitat and the airport) and being able to get all my meals in one place. After the airless tomb-like quality of the Nasional Hotel, it is nice to have a view and a sea breeze. 

I eat a great lunch with a bunch of Australian surfers and then rest during the heat of the day. As the sun begins to descend, I set out on a longish walk out to hillside forest. While walking I meet dozens of people, all greet me warmly. Hiking a forest track a couple of ladies pass on a motorcycle, and stop to take their photo with me. 

                                                        Papaya Ladies from Simeulue 

An hour later I walk past their farm, and they call to me, and give me some papaya to eat. We share the fruit, which is brilliant and helps replenish me. I say goodbye, and continue on passing through a large friendly village, and finally climbing up a path into some second growth forest. I lay in the short grass waiting for darkness, while a small group of water buffalo graze around me. 

                                                            Simeulue scops owl site
 

My target is Simeulue scops owl. A tiny, yellow eyed owl, unique to this island. It's not yet dark, when the first owls start singing. It's an incredible call. A series of short yelping calls, the last ones more emphatic. A second bird joins in with a high pitched, short shriek. I am soon able to spotlight a pair of these noisy owls. They are tiny, short-tailed owls. Their plumage is very soft and loose. Their ears are small, but distinct and eyes are brilliant yellow. Bill is dark gray and small. The face is light rufous with gray edging, giving a patchy effect. The breast is similarly colored , but with a few black shafts on some of the feathers and some white spots on the belly.

Happy, I walk back through the village through clouds of wood smoke that hang over the grassy track as the imam calls out the faithful. It's a long walk. I hope to find the papaya ladies, but their farm looks deserted. Nearby I find another pair of scops owls. I arrive at the lodge a bit after 9pm. Thankfully they have save me dinner. I am starving, and the food is excellent.    

June 7th. I have an easy day today. There are no flights today, and I have seen my target owl. I take a couple of morning walks under the hot sun. I swim a little, but it's difficult to navigate the coral and the swell, and I am a bit of a coward in the ocean. Late in the afternoon I head out to some nearby forest. It's a beautiful place with a rocky hill with lots of palms. I endure lots of mosquitos and as soon as it gets dark a Simeulue scops owl flies over me!

I find another scops a little further up the road. I had planned on walking further, but the noise of a large generator puts me off. I head back to the lodge to catch up on some sleep.

June 8th. I wake around 4am, and have lots of time to kill before my flight. 

                                                    View at dawn from Salt Surf Lodge 

On the flight across to Medan I see lots of pristine forest along the mountainous central spine of Sumatra. That is where I hope to be owling tonight. At Medan, I use Whatsapp to connect with I Can Car Rental. They pick me up at the entrance to the terminal and we sort everything out in the parking lot. It's all pretty seamless until I hit the road. I have a hard time driving on the other side of the road, plus the tint on the windows is so dark that I struggle using the mirrors. Compounding all this, my boots are too wide for the pedals, so I keep catching the the side rather than the accelerator. I pull up to a toll booth only to find I can only pay by by pre-paid card. A couple of locals hook me up with a card, and the other drivers are really patient with me. Google maps, takes me on a complex detour involving a U-turn off the freeway. It's a slow start! Once I leave the freeway traffic is very heavy and slow out of Medan. It takes me 4 hours to cover 80km. By the time I reach the hills it's pouring. Then the car in front of me pulls dramatically to the right as a motorbike, followed by two riders on their backs slide down the hill in front of me at high speed. Remarkably the rider springs to his feet at the end of their long asphalt slide. Higher up the road follows many switchbacks. It's not easy navigating some very slow heavy trucks, but at least traffic opens up. 

My destination is the hill-town of Berastagi. This is a very convenient destination from Medan, but has a had very little ebird activity. This had concerned me, as I suspected that the habitat may have been badly degraded. I had decided on this place, in part because I had wanted to create my own itinerary, and not just go the same place everyone goes to see Sumatra's mountain birds (Kerinci National Park). Google Maps delivers me to a gated road to some radio towers. 

                                                    View from the radio-tower road
 

It's stopped raining and is cool and beautiful out. I park up, and walk slowly up the thin strip of asphalt through beautiful primary montane forest. I am listening for Sunda owlet as I walk. I reach the top of the hill after a few kilometers, and discover a mountain bike trail leading along an eastern ridge. I follow the trail, which conveniently leads me back to the car. Along the way I get caught in a cloud burst. It's a steep slippery trail down the hill, but I make it back unscathed. By the time I reach the road, the rain has let up. I loath driving the rental car, so walk down to the edge of Berastagi, where I find a warung serving Ache food. I have a big night planned (search for Rajah and Vanderwater's scops owls), so I eat a good fish dinner, chased by a incredibly sweet coffee and feel revived. 

Walking back through strawberry fields to the car in the drizzle I hear a Sumatran frogmouth call from a huge tree. I repeat the loop up to the radio-towers listening for both scops owls. I hear intermittent calls of Vanderwater's scops, but despite a half a dozen efforts to track them down in the forest, they all fall silent as I approach. It's not easy following these birds off the road, the hillside is steep, overgrown with tangles and blocked by fallen logs. Near the radio-tower I hear a loud song of Rajah Scops. I soon spotlight it and get beautiful views of this owl with striking orange eyes, large erect ear tufts, and white upper edge of the facial disc that also leads into the ears. Below the bird is light gray, with white and darker spots on the belly. It has an obvious whitish bar across the folded wing. The tail is at least as long as the folded wing. The back is darker gray-brown than the belly. The bird is big (for a scops) and very striking, looking superficially like an African white-faced owl. The bird sings on and off, a wide variety of loud gruff calls.

I continue to the summit, and then down the mountain-bike trail. I spotlight a perched Sumatran frogmouth, which for a quick minute I thought was a Vanderwater's scops! I also disturb some loud arboreal mammals, probably monkeys. I make it back to the car near midnight and decide to crash in a nearby roadside shelter. 

                                                            My accommodation at Berastagi

June 9th. Around 3am I wake by a car stopping. A guy is investigating the rental car which is parked a couple hundred yards up the road. I am too tired to bother, so I ignore him. Soon I hear him drive off. A little later, I am wake again, this time the same car is parked outside the shelter. I sheepishly say hello to the driver and his young son. He bids me goodnight and heads off in his car. He returns soon after, and I can hear him below me (there is a steep drop off below the shelter, and there is space to stand below the platform). The man and the son light a fire below me. I initially had think that they were starting their day, and going to prepare food, but instead they leave once the fire is lit. I understand that they made the fire to warm me, and am moved by their openness to hosting me and thoughtfulness for helping me stay warm. I mull over these thoughts, then my alarm beeps, it's 4am! I pack, then head out into the forest, doing the loop up to the radio-towers in reverse. I hear several Vanderwater's scops, a rajah scops and Sumatran frogmouth. despite my best efforts I can't get close to a Vanderwater's scops, each falls silent as I creep through the dark thickets towards them. 

It's still quite dark when I hear a Sunda owlet singing. Nearby a Barred Eagle owl calls. It's a long wait for it to get light enough for me to see it, but eventually I get to see the tennis ball shaped owl zip across the road a few times. I have to content myself with it's diagnostic, boop, boo boo call rather than a great view of the bird. 

I walk quietly down the road back to the car. I write a thank you note for the guy who checked on me last night and leave it at the shelter, pinned down by a rock on top of a log chair. Inside it's still pleasantly warm and smokey.  

I drive down to last night's warung. To my surprise it's been converted to a Padang style cafe. This is my favorite Indonesian food. I get to pick several tiny plates of delicious rich spicy food. The style of the food is a bit like Burmese food, and is distinctively richer and more intense than other Indonesian food I have eaten. After a slow breakfast I drive out to Lake Lawar. This is a forested lake at the foot of Gunung Sinabung, a dramatic volcano. I plan to explore both the lakeside forest and the lower slopes of Gunung Sinabung for Vanderwater's scops. It's short, but tedious drive on a pot holed road up to the lake. Although there are a couple of lodges and some organized camping at the lake, I am dismayed to find that the is no trail system through the fine looking lakeside forest. Worse still the trail up the volcano has been closed for years due to volcanic activity. After poking around a bit in a vain effort to find a trail, I give up. I drive North, to the head of the valley, where Google maps satellite view indicated a nice area of roadside forest. I drive along a slow potholed road through coffee plantations to a pass. From there the road enters a protected area, with thick montane forest. The road then plunges steeply down to a valley. For the first kilometer the road is contained by tall wire fences on either side-definite impediments to owling. Lower down the forest is accessible from the roadside, but the elevation feels a bit low and I am put off the site. 

I am still unresolved where to owl tonight, so I head out to the trailhead for Gunung Sibayak (another volcano, this one just above Berastagi). I find an excellent patch of roadside forest on the approach to trail-head, plus more promising forest on the lower part of the trail. I return to the farmland above town and find a hotel and catch a couple of hours sleep. 

I wake at 6pm, and head out in search of food. A nearby store makes me ramen, egg and sweet tea. By now it's almost dark, so I gather my gear and head out up the road towards Gunung Sibayak. It hadn't rained today, and the evening air is heavy. The road climbs out of pastures, through bamboo forest and finally into primary forest. I explore several side trails, all radiate into a maze through the forest. I use my phone to take compass bearings, but find that I am able to navigate by remembering little details, like fallen logs or a conspicuous foot print in the mud. I hear lots of Vanderwater's scops, probably 15. Sometimes I hear duets, one bird a little lower pitched than the other. I am frequently surprised by just how far their quite two note whistle carries. I hear a bird below an embankment, and creep down an impossibly steep and tangly hill, my belly pressed into the soft rich soil as I squeeze under low branches. It sounds right there, but turning on my flashlight reveals just a mass of leaves, and the owl of course falls silent. 

I find a huge toad, the size of a grapefruit. He's indifferent to me, and refuses to budge as I carefully navigate over him. Two different barred eagle owls call from the forest. By 1045pm, I decide to return to the hotel for some rest. Along the way back down the road I decide to try and spotlight the owls. (I don't normally walk with a bright light, but the scops owls are both abundant and hard to track down). Close to the hotel, I flush a small roadside owl. It flies up to a tangle of vines on the side of the road, where I get a good view of it. It has yellow eyes, is small and rufous, with small raised ear tufts. It has a slight whitish edge above the rufous facial disc. There is a white wing bar, rufous underparts and overall much smaller than last night's Rajah scops. It's a Vanderwater's scops, a potential split from Mountain scops owl, a widespread owl of South East Asia with a a rather fragmented range. 

June 10th. Back at the hotel, I consider trying to change my flight back to Singapore. This would give me the chance to get to Southern Malaysia for a night to look for some new lowland owls. I soon abandon this plan as expensive and hard to really pull off effectively. I decide instead to visit Bukit Lawang, the site of a former orangutan rehab center at the edge of Gunung Leuser National Park. My targets are a couple of more widespread lowland owls; Oriental bay owl and reddish scops owl. There is almost no information on birding this site, but I know there is extensive forest covering low foothills, so there should be good habitat. 

I get up at first light and drive to the nearby Padang cafe and eat a most excellent breakfast. It's an easy drive down the main highway, until fucking Google maps leads me along a maze of rocky tracks through oil palm plantations. I have to baby the little black Honda over the rocks ever so slowly to keep it from getting grounded. After an hour of this bullshit I reach a better road, and from there it's a straightforward drive. Around noon, I stop at a roadside warung. Inside, guys smoke, others play chess, while one just kills flies with a fly swatter, then brushes them on the floor. It's hot under the metal roof. I watch the lady prepare my food. She brings me a plate of noodles, with bean sprouts, chewy greens and tofu, drenched in a spicy peanut sauce. It's brilliant. I would have ordered a second plate, but modesty prevents me from asking for more. I arrive at Bukit Lawang soon after lunch. It's a bit annoying, both oppressively hot and with lots of guys offering to be my jungle guide. After reading a map, I realize there is a road-less area across the river with a couple of fancier lodges. I head over there, and after a short hike, pass a couple of orangutans hanging out with a group of local tourists. I squeeze by on the trail, and a big red ape reaches out to me with a giant leathery hand as if to push me along. I reach a nice place, Orang Utan Bungalow and check into a wooden cabin. I agree on a plan with a local guide, Robin, to take an afternoon hike together. My goal is to figure out the lay of the land, so that after dark I can sneak into the park and look for owls. (My impression is that guides are compulsory, and that there are no serious birding guides available). 

Around 4pm, Robin and I take a 15 minute stroll into the park. I get to see that there are no rangers at the gate, and that the trail into the park is easy to follow. After dinner, I am lacing up my boots when I think I hear a reddish scops owl below the cabin. I chase it around a small stand of rubber trees, never quite sure if it's a reddish scops owl. The area is noisy with the sounds of the nearby river and motorcycles and music from town. Next I walk unobtrusively through the garden and up into the national park. Despite the excellent habitat, it's not very owly. I walk and stop to listen every couple of hundred meters, hearing only frogs and insects. There are tigers and leopards here, and when I see eye-shine from a nearby thicket I am startled. I walk loudly towards the brilliant eyes, and am relieved when a deer bolts out. I follow a ridge trail for a ways, then descend down the side of it. When the trail forks, I mark the dirt with my boot to show my returning self the right way out of the forest. I do my best to memorize the features of the trail like downed logs, stream crossings and the few steep rocky sections. After three hours of owling I descend to a second stream, which I cross several times. I feel I just should not go any further for risk of getting lost. As I rest for a minute I hear a distant reddish scops owl. This bird is like the Pied Piper of owlers, calling me deeper into the jungle. I end up chasing the bird first down, then back up, and finally down a hill, before I get amazing views of this lovely owl. It's back is warm brown, the belly is cream, infused with reddish tones and covered with diagnostic black spots. The bill is large, prominent and distinctly pale horn. The eyes are large and dark amber. The facial disc is dusky in the center, and paler at the edges. The impression of the owl is large headed and small bodied with strong legs, like the shape of a saw-whet owl. Wow, what a great find! When I visited Southeast Asia in the early nineties, I had always wanted to find this bird. I considered it a real birder's bird, more nuanced and elusive and much less brash than the pittas and trogons that I was actually finding. 

I start to retrace my steps, momentarily interrupted by a thin aggressive snake that chased me down the trail. Close inspection reveals it's actually a giant earthworm, about a half meter long! After about a kilometer, I start to doubt that I am on the correct trail. Later I reach a small peak, and pull out my phone. My one bar of signal, allows me to map my location. I am walking away from the park entrance! It's hard to use Google maps and my compass, but I think I have to retrace my steps. I return to the bottom of a very steep climb, where I reach a creek I had recently crossed. Even though the creek is familiar, I am unable to find any trail on the far side of the trail, and so am unable to continue to backtrack! I hike slowly now, back up to the peak. I am wet with sweat, and thirsty. I review Google maps and listen to the faint sound of motorcycles. I conclude I must have missed the trail on the other side of the stream, so climb back down the very steep trail. Back at the stream there is no fucking trail on the other side. I want to drink the water, but am fearful of getting sick. I know that when you are lost in the jungle, you can follow a stream, which will lead you down to stream-side habitations. I am nervous of doing this. I am in the foothills, and the terrain is steep. And the rocks by the creek are incredibly slick. Still I decide to try. After I couple of minutes I come to a six meter high waterfall, flanked by rocky slopes. I realize that there is no way I can climb past the waterfall. Relieved I return to the trail, and climb wearily back to the hill top. I decide to try and call Tui, and see if she can call Orang Utan Bungalow.

June 11th. At the top of the hill I call Tui. She is very calm, and takes down all the information. It's about midnight, and we agree that I will shut of my phone, rest and check back when I awaken. I have slept in the jungle a lot, but this is the first time I have just lain on the jungle floor. I don't feel scared, but I do feel that I am going to miss my flight home and that this is serious, I could be out here for a long time. I am really tired, and feel really peaceful, but my sleep is interrupted by inch long ants, with huge heads like a wasp, that crawl over me. 

I rouse myself at 130am, and turn on my phone. It's full of messages. Dede, the owner of the Orang Utan Bungalow has left me Whatsapp voice messages to stay put, and to scream for help. It feels surreal. I set my flashlight like a flare into the earth, and set it to strobe. The whole canopy of huge trees above me pulses with white light. I yell out into the forest "help". This is unreal. On my trips I am always asking for something, directions or to buy something, but I never really need help. Not like this, were I feel totally stuck, and unable to take care of myself. One of the rescuers calls me, and reminds me to keep screaming, which I do. Around 2am I hear voices. The rescuer asks me to approach them, so I descend the ridge, finding a new trail, which takes me to a low point on the ridge, where I can no longer hear them. I yell again and again. I worry that they may walk past my hilltop and I decide to hustle back there. Back at the hilltop, I wait some more, yelling and listening. Eventually I hear voices again, they sound a bit closer, and I descend in their direction. Suddenly I see lights in the distance. I take a tiny trail across a steep hillside and find three guys. I am so happy to be safe, and ashamed that I could not take care of myself. They give me water and I apologize for doing this. They smoke a few cigarettes and call the other rescuers and Dede. I send Tui a message. We hike for about half an hour, then join with three more rescuers. We stop for more cigarettes, then men seem lighthearted and they joke with each other. Again we walk for about half an hour, then join another group of three. We sit on logs talking, engulfed in a cloud of cigarette smoke. Finally we descend out of the forest. I follow behind a barefoot rescuer, his feet covered in white clay, a small puncture, probably from a hungry leech, in his left calf leaks blood. It's a long walk back to the bungalow, and when we arrive (around 430am), they have prepared food for us. I eat a big plate of salty noodles and drink sweet tea. I thank everyone and tell them that I will make a payment to Dede in the morning. 

I sleep heavily until my cabin becomes intolerably warm by the intense morning sun. After breakfast I meet with Dede and a local police man. 


                                                         Dede, the man who saved me

We talk for ages about what happened and also about his conservation project to convert his parent's farm to an ecotourism lodge. Slowly the topic comes round the paying for the rescue. I offer my remaining dollars ($412), which Dede accepts. Dede will then distribute the money to the guides who rescued me. (I really owe so much to Dede. He was remarkably organized and efficient in getting a three teams out into the forest in the middle of the night. He directed the teams and made the whole thing work). Together we also write a police report. I then say thank you and goodbye. I shower and pack. I suspect that things were not quite "over". For one I am relived and surprised to have not been arrested for venturing into the park without a guide. Just as I leave, Dede calls me to let me know the local money changer would not accept my worn dollar bills. We meet up, and Dede drives me to the money changer, an affable man and proud Hajii. We talk about his pilgrimage, while he runs my debit card. I get my dollars back, and Dede gets some crisp pink rupiah. I say another heartfelt goodbye to Dede and then set off for Medan.

The drive is hard because the road is narrow, and it's edges of the road very tall. Plus there are tons of slow vehicles to pass. It's a relief to finally get to the toll road and enjoy some boring highway driving to the airport.

I fly to Singapore direct, and even catch a little sleep on the plane. I feel a little overwhelmed when I arrive at Changi airport. My goal is to get out to a city park and find Singapore scops owl, a potential split from Sunda scops which inhabits the Southern end of the Malay peninsula. I luckily make the last MRT train from the airport all the way Bukit Batok MRT station.  At the station there is a Seven Eleven and I replenish myself with a sandwich and Monster energy drink. 

June 12th.  I walk a couple of kilometers to Bukit Batok reserve. The city is quite, no one is out except for a couple of taxi drivers. Singapore is a good city for a night walk, it's safe, almost boring. Plump rats scour the neatly trimmed grass verges in search of a meal. The reserve is a small limestone hill, covered in jungle with a good network of paved trails. I decide to put on my snake guards. Despite being in safe Singapore, that rocky terrain looks very snakey! I hear multiple Singapore scops owls calling and eventually catch one in flight under a street light, a big, broad winged, grayish-brown scops owl. It's now 2am, and I have nowhere to go. I rest in a gazebo and take in the sounds of the owls and insects. Eventually I hear a red junglefowl crow. It's time to go. I catch the first MRT back to Changi airport. My flight is overbooked, so I am sent to long way back to San Francisco (via Taipei), rather than direct. Still it does not matter, at least I made it out of the jungle in one piece. 

 

Acknowledgements: Frank Rheindt helped me greatly with specific birding information and sound recordings of Nias Wood owl. Sin Yong Chee Keita helped me out with practical information on finding Singapore scops owl.

 

This type of birding is really harmful to the environment. Particularly air travel contributes to global warming. It's possible to mitigate the impact by buying carbon offsets, which are quite affordable. You can learn more at https://www.goldstandard.org/





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Saturday, January 7, 2023

2023 Owling

 I live in the Sellwood neighborhood of Portland, Oregon with my wife, Tui, two sons, Charlie (11) and George, plus a cheeky pitbull, Maile. These are the owls that I found in the Pacific Northwest in 2023.

January 7th. Maile and I took a walk along the East side of Oaks Bottom, where I found a screech owl roosting in a cavity in an ash tree. 

January 8th. Tui and I took a very rainy walk around Lone Fir Cemetery. While watching a  beautiful Townsend's warbler, we heard a distant barred owl singing. I ran across the park, and easily found the singing owl, seeking shelter in a dense cedar. Tui arrived a minute later and was able to enjoy the owl. 

Jan 14th. Charlie and I took off early in the morning, stopping at the PDX fire-station where we hoped for a barn owl. Alas all we saw were airplanes. At the sea-scout base Charlie found a short eared owl hunting low along the dike. Later that morning we saw tricolored and rusty blackbirds plus a summer tanager.

Jan 15th. Charlie, Tui and I drive out to Steigerwald to look for a Lapland longspur that Charlie wanted to see. We found the longspur with a flock of pipits. On the walk back we found a beautiful short-eared owl hunting over a wet grassland with two northern harriers. Charlie and I took a detour to check out some fir trees. Right away we found some pellets, and after checking a few trees we found our prize, a barn owl-Charlie's 220th bird.  

Feb 4th. I got up well before dawn and headed for Tryon park in search of saw-whet owls. I didn't hear any, but at first light I heard a spontaneously singing pygmy owl. It took about ten minutes, but I was eventually able to find a pair of pygmy owls. 

Feb 4th. Charlie and I took a couple of local birders, Henry and Jane and some friends of theirs to the Oaks Bottom screech owl. When we arrived there were a couple of photographers already viewing the cooperative owl. It's remarkable just how many people have viewed these birds. We all enjoyed good views of the screech owl in it's cavity, before it flew low into a nearby tree.

Feb 10th. Maile and I walked the full circuit around Oaks Bottom. I found the screech owl in the usual ash tree. A little further around I found a barred owl roosting low in a Doug Fir. I also followed a huge flock of angry crows in some riverside cottonwoods. I feel certain that they had found an owl, but I never did find the object of their scorn.

 Feb 12th. Tui, Maile and I took a hike around Powell Butte. A runner noticed my binoculars and told me about a barred owl. A few minutes later we found the owl, a lovely barred owl perched very low in a vine maple. 

Feb 17th. Charlie, Maile and I walked around Oaks Bottom. We found a screech owl facing the sun in the usual ash tree. 

Feb 18th. Tui, Charlie and I went birding in Clark County, Washington. At Shillapoo Lake, Charlie and I did find a Northern Shrike, a first for Charlie. We searched for Bitterns at Ridgefield NWR, but found none. A particularly dark Great horned owl roosting in the ash woodland was good compensation though.

Feb 19th. George, Maile and I drove out to Wasco County to search for long eared owl. This would be a new bird for me in Wasco County. We birded the area SE of the Dalles, but failed to see or hear any long-eareds. We did have a great-horned singing very close by and saw three other roadside great-horned owls; even George was excited by our close drive by views. We camped in White River WMA. 

Feb 25th. Charlie and I walked around Whitaker Ponds in the snow. Despite the winter weather we saw five tree swallows. A couple of scolding scrub jays led us to a great-horned owl roosting high in a fir tree.  

March 17th. Maile and I walked around Oaks Bottom. The screech owl was sunning itself in the usual ash tree. 

Mar 25-30th. The whole family took a trip across Oregon to Ontario in Eastern Oregon. Our first night we stayed in a cabin at Crooked River ranch.

                                        George and Maile exploring Crooked River Ranch
Charlie and I saw a couple of great-horned owls at the golf course there. The next day, Charlie and I drove down to Millican at first light, where despite the bitter cold we found 5 sage grouse.

                                                        Millican (Sage grouse location)
We all drove along highway 20 to Owhyee Lake, stopping along the way to enjoy Ferruginous hawk and Prairie Falcon. South of Vale, I found 3 great-horned owls, sat on nests. I had been hoping to get in some owling in Malhuer county, but Owhyee Lake was pretty isolated from the areas that I wanted to explore. In the morning Charlie found his first chukar and rock wrens. We drove to Ontario that afternoon, and tracked down a group of great-tailed grackles in a city park, another new bird for Charlie. The following day, Charlie and I set off north of Weiser in search of Sharp-tailed grouse. Along the route, we found a road side short eared owl at first light. The first lek site was devoid of grouse. We pressed on into the mountains toward a second lek site. I had misgivings, as the roads were wet and muddy. We eventually decided to stop half way up a narrow track. While reversing down the track the Rav4 slid into a ditch. Despite our best efforts to fill the ditch with rocks we were unable to to prevent the car sinking deeper into the cold wet snowy mud. Fortunately there was a house near by. The man who answered the door agreed to help. Remarkably he was a fish and game ranger, who helped people see the grouse. He let us know it was way too snowy to access the grouse lek. Once he hooked a chain onto the car, he pulled it down the hill with his truck, for a while the car remained stuck in the ditch, and we slid close to a big creek, but a few feet before the creek, the Rav's tires gripped, and it pulled out of the ditch. Defeated, but relieved, we drove back to the  rental house. Returning to Burns, we got as far as Vale, when we discovered Highway 20 was blocked by a major accident. There was a winter storm warning, so we decided to loop around through Jordan Valley. Near Adrian I found three more nesting great-horned owls. It was a long, wild drive across this empty corner of Oregon. Approaching Burns we encountered a lot of blowing snow. We stayed at a ranch bunkhouse at the end of a long snowy drive. Surprisingly we didn't find any owls around Burns, but at least Charlie and I were able to find a logger-head shrike and big flock of long-billed curlews. 

April 1st. I walked around Tryon after dark in search of saw-whet owls, but only heard a distant barred owl.

April 2nd. Charlie, Tui and I visited a slough just West of Portland Airport and found a large great-horned owl chick staring back at us from a tree cavity. 

April 7th. I visited Tryon at dusk with Mail and tried to track down the barred owl that I had heard last week. After a few minutes of walking down the trail, I saw a beautiful barred owl perched by the trail side. After dark we tried iron Mountain trail for saw whet owl, but found none. 

April 15th. Charlie, Maile and I visited Tabor in search of early migrants. We ran into Ross Barnes-Rickett, who kindly explained how to find a recently fledged great-horned owl. After a little searching we found a wonderful big fluffy owlet low in a Doug Fir. We also found five warbler species, but nothing new for Charlie's life list.

That afternoon Andy Frank let me know about a screech owl in his yard. Tui and I drove over and enjoyed close up views of a screech owl sunning itself from a large cavity. 

April 16th. I drove out with Maile to Hagg Lake and started hiking a forest road through a clearcut at Sunset. In an open area of recently planted young conifers I found a long-eared owl hunting.

April 21st. I walked through Reed Canyon with Maile and heard a barred owl singing a couple of times near the upper end of the canyon. 

April 22nd. Charlie, Maile and I took an early morning walk around Mt Tabor. We found Charlie's first Calliope in a cherry tree. We checked on last week's Great-Horned owl and were rewarded with an adult and a chick perched together.

April 28-29th. Charlie, Maile and I went camping in Morrow County. I was on a quest to find Short-eared owl in Morrow county. We took a beautiful walk in some wild grasslands at dusk. Charlie found his first grasshopper sparrow, and we kept company with many displaying curlews. Unfortunately we found no short eareds. One consolation was a pair of great-horned owls that Charlie noticed, perched in a barn window. 

May 19-21st. Charlie, Maile and I drove out to Summer Lake. This was our big spring trip. We found lots of new birds for Charlie, especially steppe and scrub songbirds and waterbirds. Both nights we tried for Flammulated owl, but failed to see or hear any. Perhaps we were a week too early. We also checked out a known site for long-eared owls, but unfortunately found two dead nestlings and no adults. At a campsite at Summer Lake we found a lovely family of four great-horned owls. Along Winter Ridge we found a very cooperative singing pygmy owl. 

May 28th. Tui and I took a walk around Tryon, where we found a hunting barred owl perched obviously in a low fir tree.

June 30th. I have not been owling in Oregon lately. Today we moved into a new home in Lake Oswego, where my youngest son can get better special ed services. After a long sweaty day moving dusty crap, Charlie, Maile and I took a night walk on Cook's Butte. On the far side of the Butte we heard a singing great-horned owl.

July 1st. Charlie, Maile and I walked around Luscher Farms after dark, where we found a calling barn owl. We got a great view without a flashlight under a big moon.

July 19th. Maile and I walked around Luscher Farms after dark. I could hear a barn owl screeching from a stand of trees.

July 25th. I took Maile to Bryant Woods Nature Park. We quickly heard, but struggled to find a singing great-horned owl. A begging barred owl was much easier to track down. 

July 30th. While driving along highway 43 we saw a roadside barred owl hunting just north of Lake Oswego in the daylight. Later at Luscher farms I found a barn owl after dark.

Aug 4th. While walking Maile around Lake Ridge high school I heard a distant barn owl.

Aug 5th Maile and I got up at 3am, and walk down to Bryant Woods/Canal Acres nature areas. After a few minutes I heard a great0horned owl singing. The owl sang for over an hour. Down by the Tualatin River I found a singing barred owl.

Aug 11th. Maile and I got up before sunrise and walked down Stafford Road to the bridge over  the Tualatin River. Surprisingly a barred owl flew across the river accompanied by a coopers hawk. Soon after another coopers crossed and finally a second barred owl.

Aug 18th. Charlie, Maile and I hiked East from Timberline Lodge down to the while river crossing, where we camped. At dusk we heard a great-horned owl singing just above the White River

Aug 25th-27th. Sean Cozart had found a family of nesting barred owls at Buck Creek Trailhead in the Wallowas. Although common near Portland, this is a challenging bird to find in NE Oregon. I had a weekend camping trip planned with my friends Mark and Justin, so decided to stop and visit Buck Creek along the way. I didn't get off work until 6pm, so didn't arrive at Buck Creek until 2am! It was beautiful out, surprisingly damp. I enjoying having a beer and walking the forest roads. Alas I heard no owls, and it wasn't until I had given up that I heard the first barred owl sing around 330am.

 

Up in the eagle cap wilderness I had hoped for a long eared or boreal owl, but found neither. I did see a lovely spruce grouse and a pair of tame white-winged crossbills. Plus the views were lovely:



 September 7th. While doing a Maile walk around the high school I noticed a large owl silhouetted low in an alder tree. I was able to approach it and use my phone's flashlight to figure out it was a barred owl.

 September 9th. While exploring the scablands around coffee Creek Wetlands I flushed a big great-horned owl from some tall Doug Firs.

Sep 17th. I my quest to see a boreal owl in Oregon I ventured up to Timberline on Mount Hood with Riis Hinrichs. Driving over to Riis' at dusk a barred owl flew in front of the car. We walked West from the lodge. Initially it was quite windy, but as we got further along the Timberline trail the wind eased. We had a saw-whet respond, and got brief views of it in flight. Behind us we both had the impression that a largish animal was walking near by. It was an unnerving feeling and I was thankful not to be alone. Alas we never found any boreal owls.

Sep 22-23rd. Maile and I headed out to Timothy Lake after dinner. We hiked into the North Arm and heard a saw-whet sing a very slow song. Next we hiked down to Meditation Point. In the night I head a couple of distant barred owls calling. Just before my alarm went off, a couple of saw-whets started calling-both the bark, and later a brief song. Despite my efforts I could not get a view of the saw-whets, but did see a handsome pair of great-horned owls singing from a tall snag. 

Oct 6th. I refound the great horned owl at Coffee Creek Scablands.

Oct 7th. Tui and I took a hike around Milo McIver Sate Park. We found a big dark great-horned owl perched low in a maple tree.

Late that afternoon, Charlie, Maile and I drove out in the Rav to Broken top. We stopped along the way at Trillium Lake, where we cooked dinner. We arrived at Broken top well after dark and set about searching for Boreal owls. At our second stop, we heard a boreal owl singing! I have searched for this species about 20 times over 22 years, and this is the first time I have definitively found one in Oregon. The bird soon fell silent, and we were unable to locate it, or find any other owls despite numerous stops.

Oct 8th. While walking Maile after dark in the neighborhood, I heard, then saw a singing great-horned owl.   

Oct13-15th. George and I decided to take a trip to the South Coast of Oregon to visit the Prehistoric Gardens-a forest populated with concrete dinosaurs. We camped on the way South, in the hills above Elkton. We heard a great-horned owl singing from the tent. In the morning we briefly heard a singing pygmy owl, but could not find it. 

After visiting the Prehistoric Gardens (which George found a bit underwhelming) we ventured inland, Northeast of Port Orford. We camped on an old gold mining claim. The forest was a beautiful mix of tall firs and evergreen oaks. At dusk we had a singing pygmy owl near the campsite. That night we drove the back roads searching for spotted owls. All we heard was a single great-horned owl singing far away across the valley.

Around four in the morning I was awoken by the sound of snapping branches, concerned it might be a bear, I stayed awake for a while. Then I heard a male long eared owl sing for a few minutes! This is the first time that I have detected this bird in the coast range. 

Oct 22nd. While walking Maile past Lake Ridge school at dawn, I heard a distant great-horned owl singing up by Cooks Butte.

Nov 5th. Tui, Charlie and I took a midday walk along Anderson Rd, when we flushed a short-eared owl from the roadside. The bird was carrying prey and crossed the road and dropped into the far field. I was incredibly happy to find this bird in Clackamas, the last report was in the last millennium and it was my most wanted Clackamas bird.

Nov 11th. Tui, Charlie and I took a walk through Brown's Ferry Park. I had just commented on the lack of barred owls, and 10 seconds later I saw a very plump looking barred owl roosting in a big leaf maple tree. 

Nov 14th. While walking Maile past Lake Ridge school at night, Charlie and I heard a great-horned owl singing up by Cooks Butte.  

Nov 18-19th. Charlie and I went camping near the mouth of the Metolious River. We stopped at Timothy lake and saw a goshawk hunting killdeer. Near Black Butte Ranch we heard a barred owl, a first for me in Jefferson County. We spent a damp night camped under a fir tree. In the morning we woke to an inch of wet snow.  

Nov 24th. While driving Barbour Blvd at dusk I saw a great-horned owl fly above the road.

Nov 25th. Maile and I hiked Cook's Butte at dawn. A gang of scolding Stellar's Jays led me to a roosting great-horned owl. 

Dec 14th. I visited Wilhoit  Springs after dark with Joseph Blowers and Mike Anderson. Mike had been doing a county big year and wanted to find a saw whet owl. We were not disappointed, and the owls were vocal, singing briefly, screeching and barking. I saw three saw-whets, all briefly and heard a possible 4th owl.

Dec 23rd. At the top Cook's Butte, I heard a pair of great-horned owls duetting an hour before dawn. I received a text from Riis, letting me know about a saw-whet. I headed over to Tryon. By the time I arrived, the saw whet had fallen silent, but I was able to hear a singing great-horned owl.

Dec 24th. I drove out to Luscher farm and saw a hunting barn owl. I then headed out to Mary S Young park, where I heard a great-horned and saw-whet owl. Next stop was Powell Valley Nature Park, where I eventually found a calling screech owl. I stopped at the South end of Tryon, where I hoped to find a barred owl, but non where calling. I met up with Riis and his friend Owen, where we found a calling saw-whet and got to watch a singing pygmy owl at dawn. 

Dec 26th. While walking Maile by Lakeridge High School, I heard a barn owl screeching.

Dec 27th. George and I were enjoying a noisy hot tub under a full moon, while a great-horned owl sang nearby. 

Dec 28th. I got up early and drove to Wilhoit springs, arriving there about 615am. I found a barred owl lurking in a cedar tree, and nearby a great-horned, perched conspicuously high in a fir tree.  Nearby a pygmy owl sang, but remained out of sight.

Dec 31st. I got up early and headed out to Coffee Creek Wetlands, where I heard a barn owl calling. I then drove to Anderson Swale Rd, where I saw one or two hunting barn owls, and heard a pair of distant great-horned owls singing.

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Friday, December 16, 2022

Morocco 2022

 I visited my family in Norfolk, England in late November-early December. This was our first time together since before the pandemic. It was really good to see everyone. Most days I did some birding. I found Cettie's warblers and a Great egret-both birds that were much harder to find in Britain when I left in the nineties. Dad and I flushed a little owl out of a barn near Fiona's house. I heard stacks of tawny owls near her home, and eventually got views of one bird in flight. A barn owl that briefly called near her house remained elusive and I never saw it. 

I had decided to visit Morocco as part of the trip. Maghreb owl has recently been split from Tawny owl, and the Pharaoh Eagle owl had been separated by Clements into two groups, "Pharaoh" from North Africa, and "Desert" from the Arabian peninsular. I had found the "Desert" form in the Emirates, but the "Pharaoh" form would be a lifer for me. The other draw for me was to look for the northern race of Marsh owl, which is now an extremely rare bird.

December 6th. Dad and I got up at the ungodly hour of 3am on a cold frosty morning. We left my sister's driving across Norfolk, Suffolk and into Essex to reach Stansted airport a bit after 5am. I said goodbye to Dad and entered the chaos of the terminal. My flight was with Ryan air, and they lived up to my low expectations-I was charged 55 Euros because I hadn't checked in online. The plane was bus-like, and I was trapped trying to hold my bladder that wanted to burst like a balloon by a snoring lady in the aisle seat. I arrived in Marrakesh three hours later, and rushed across the sunny asphalt to the terminal, finding sweet relief in a cool tiled toilet. A half an hour later I was driving a little white rental car out of the airport. 

Thanks to Google maps I made it out of Marrakesh without getting lost. The highway crossed a stony plain, then rose through some piney foothills, and finally into the High Atlas. There was a ton of road construction, and it was hard to make progress. I was motivated to make it to my destination, Boumalne Dades, at the Northern end of the Sahara before sunset. I pressed the little white Kia hard, and did my best to pass the old Mercedes minibuses that lumbered over the passes. Eventually I descended across the far side of the Atlas. I stopped for a quick meal of beans and bread. Then the road opened up into the desert. I called Mustapha, a guide at Riad Dades Birds http://www.riaddadesbirds.com/ . This is a hotel that also runs guiding services, mostly specializing in the local desert species. I let Mustapha know that I should be there before sunset. The hotel was at the end of a maze of little walled dirt roads. Mustapha was waiting for me. He was a young energetic Berber guy, raised out in the Sahara. He tells me to hurry, as the owl lives half an hour away and it's getting late. We sped along the highway as the sun descended over the Anti Atlas. We pulled onto a rough piste and parked next to a ruined building. Mustapha walked quickly across a rocky plain to a wadi. We followed the sandy wadi to an open canyon, and then started searching white-wash splattered rocks for pharaoh eagle-owl. Soon Mustapha spotted the owl, perched on a ledge. The beautiful, big, orange-eyed owl stared down at us from it's sandstone perch. Compared with the bird I had seen in the Emirates, I was stuck by it being more intensively marked below, being less orange, and more sandy-colored and probably smaller. Fortunately the bird flew several times, eventually up onto the lip of the canyon, a perfect place to sing from. Soon, it was singing, a single hoot, given several times per minute. Like a great-horned owl, it sung from a horizontal position, with it's throat puffed out, and it's tail cocked, like a giant wren. The sun had long since set, and it was very beautiful standing under this vast desert sky watching the big owl sing. 

Happy we drove back to the hotel. In town the streets were full of celebrating men and boys, crowds reached out to touch our passing car. Morocco had beaten Spain in the world cup. The Spanish have long fucked with Morocco and still hold enclaves along the North coast. I am sure victory was sweet. After dinner of Tagine, (a sort of stew on a clay pot with a lid), I headed out into town to look for little owls. Walking the walled tracks, I did my best to avoid the barking dogs. Soon I heard a singing owl, and moments later found a bird on the wire. The birds here are a different race from little owls of Western Europe. From my brief views, they looked fairly normal, and not conspicuously pale. 

I slept heavily reassured that there were no other regular owls to look for in the area.

Dec 7th. I woke and had breakfast before dawn, and then set out with Mustapha to the Eagle owl site again. Along the way we saw a flyby pin-tailed sandgrouse, a hunting long-winged buzzard and some lovely Temmink's larks. The owl had moved to a new location, deep in broad crack in the canyon wall, out of sight of passing ravens. 

                                                    Area near Pharaoh Eagle owl site

                                                        Canyon wall from the wadi

I really wanted to explore the area more fully, but had another 5 hour drive to the site for the Maghreb owl. I ran Mustapha back to the hotel and packed up and hit the road. Coming out of a small desert village, I got stuck behind a slow moving taxi. As the road straightened, I zipped past, and as I pulled in front of the taxi, I looked ahead and saw a policeman aiming a radar gun at me. A grinning young office dressed in gray waved me to the side of the road. After a short exchange he suggested I install the app Waze (which show speed limits). "You are free of a ticket" he told me, and happily I dove off. The rest of the drive was a bit less fun, knowing that I had to follow the speed limit. I tried to brighten it up by stopping and picking up some hitch hikers. Both sets didn't speak English, so I had to make do with a few words of French. I retraced by route back across the High Atlas, and near Marrakesh, I headed West into the Ourika Valley on the North side of the High Atlas. I pulled into a small town full of hotels and outdoor restaurants. I stopped at Auberge Le Marquis, a somewhat fancy, but completely empty hotel. I had been told that the Maghreb owl frequents a big pine tree in front of the hotel. I showed the desk clerk a photo of the owl, but he just smiled. 

Once I checked in, I headed out to walk the main strip. My initial impression wasn't optimistic. The road was busy and noisy, and all the good trees are in the private grounds of hotels and restaurants. Still, I do my best to find the best looking trees. Most of the birds here are familiar, but African blue tit and Maghreb magpie were new. I eat Tagine, stewed in prunes. Once it's dark I head out, but it's so noisy and crowded, that I take a side valley and walk along a dried up stream bed, under some olive trees. The silence is beautiful, but alas I hear no owls. Next, I drove up to the grounds of the fancy Hotel Top Ourika. I pulled into the parking lot, opened the door, and heard a Maghreb owl singing from the hotel garden. I crept under the oaks trying to get closer. My heart was pounding. The owl fell silent for a couple of minutes. I waited. Then it started singing from down by the river. To get closer I had to climb a wall and sneak through someone's gardens, then climb down another wall into the flood plain. The trees are still in leaf, and when I turned on the flashlight all I see is a blaze of foliage.  Eventually all the cracking of dry twigs underfoot flushed the owl, and I see it fly across a moonlit sky. It continued to call from behind another backyard, but there are people all around that yard and I decide to look for a different owl, in a better place.     

I drove up the mountains to Aurocher Ourika (a mountain resort). I parked the car and started hiking up the road. Under the moon, this place was beautiful, with pine trees, old mud-walled farms and big stone bluffs. Across the valley a Maghreb owl sang. I hustled up the road, following a long hairpin bend, until I reached a spot near the singing owl. Eventually the owl took flight from the pines. Against the moon, I could see it's long wedge-shaped tail-an uncommon feature for owls. Eventually I found the fantastic owl perched very low in a pine tree from just 3 meters away. The owl gazed back at me with unflinching black eyes. Although similar to tawny owl, the differences are obvious, the song is lower pitched, the markings on the underparts are stronger, the upper parts are darker and the bird is larger. What a fucking brilliant bird, just so beautiful, and what a great place to find it. Happy, I walked back to the car and drive back to the hotel.

Dec 8th. This is my tough day. I had a 500km journey to Moulay Bouselham for marsh owl. Then I had to drive a similar distance back to Marrakesh in order to make my flight. The day started well, and I drove down out the mountains, across Marrakesh to the fast toll road for Casablanca. The weather turned, and it rained on and off. I worried about the rain. I picked up a hitch-hiker called Ali. He is a remarkably loud talker, and while I drove he showed me his brother's X-rays, which he had on his phone. He is visiting his brother in Casablanca. He asked me for money to help with his brother's medical bills. It's a bit early in our relationship, so I decline (several times). I dropped Ali off at the outskirts of Casablanca, and watched, alarmed, as he continued his journey on foot, seemingly oblivious to the honking cars speeding by ever so close. Between Casablanca and Rabat a big white dog ran across the road. I hit the breaks, and the small car skids a little and missed the lucky dog by a hair. It's mid afternoon when I arrived at Le Nid Du Hibou, a modest guest house in Moulay Bouselham. It's run by Khalil 212-663095358 (WhatsApp). Khalil was a fun, older guy, with a big voice and a passion for marsh owls.

                                        Map showing the location of Le Nid Du Hibou

After a quick mint tea we headed out to look for marsh owls. Immediately we get snarled up in bad traffic at the Souk (it's Thursday, market day). After all the driving today, I was itching to get out of the car. Eventually we passed the crowded souk, and made our way through some fields, down a sandy track to a large tree, where we parked next to a forlorn looking horse. At this place some intensive export-orientated agriculture (avocados, strawberries, raspberries etc) meets some rough pasture that circles a lagoon. With pieces of black agricultural plastic caught on every tree and fence, flapping like tatty flags, the place is more free trade than fair trade. Kahil talked with some boys and asked them if they have seen the owls. We walked about into some dense patches of reeds hoping to find some owls. After about an hour all we have found are a couple of quail, a marsh harrier and a sparrowhawk. Khalil explained that he had hope to find the owls in the more natural area, but they are likely in the farmland. We walk up to a small fallow area between fields of potatoes and new avocado trees. Almost immediately, one, then two then nine beautiful big tawny and coffee-colored owls flush up, flap for a few seconds, then drop down into some dense cover. It's shocking to find nine, I don't know the population of this bird in Northern Africa, but it's probably no more than 100. I didn't want to disturb the birds anymore, so we retreated. We decided to wait until dusk to see if we can observe the birds hunting. Khalil tells me his will pray now. As I dad of a boy with autism, I can appreciate a man who can multitask (over one with a laser sharp focus). I head to the lagoon to watch some shore birds between a couple of rain squalls. Down by the shore, the mud and salt water plants and singing Curlews reminded me of my early days birding the Solway Firth. 

                                                    Big wintry sky at the Marsh Owl site

Khalil and I found each other and wandered back toward the fallow field the owls are roosting in. Magically one by one, they emerge. Some flew low, and start hunting the grassland around us. Others flew high overhead for places far flung, perhaps on the far side of the lagoon. After the ninth owl left, we head back content. Khalil has collected a bounty of great white mushrooms. Back at his guest house, his family has prepared a fish tagine. I ate the food hungrily, watched by a couple of skinny cats. I said goodbye and thank you to Khalil, sorry not to spend the night at his place. Reluctantly, I get back into the Kia and hit the road.

The drive back to Marrakesh was strange. Near Rabat a long-eared owl flew by the car. Then a semi pulled out in front of me going much slower, and I almost hit it. Then passing through a narrow construction zone another big truck honked and flashed it's lights, then passed so close, I was sure it was going to hit me. Then a couple of cars almost collided in front of me, one almost loosing control as it swerved into a coned construction zone. After Casablanca traffic became much lighter. Fortified by a black coffee, I pressed on and drove most the way to Marrakesh. I had hoped for a hotel, but was just too tired to search for one, and ended up sleeping in a truck stop parking lot, something I hadn't done since Columbia in 2009. 

Dec 9th. I slept surprisingly well in the little Kia. Despite a late flight out of Marrakesh I made my tight connection in Madrid, running like a fool in my big boots through the terminal. A 13 hour lay over in Dallas rounded out a long, long journey.

Friday, July 22, 2022

Sao Paulo and Para 2022

The local name for barn owl in Brazil is Rasga mortalha, which means shroud tearer. The name is chosen because the shriek of the barn owl is thought to be the sound of the owl tearing shroud. Thus the owl is linked to death and is considered an ill omen.  

Back in 2005 I borrowed a copy of Claus Konig's "Owls of the world". There I learned about a rare owl that dwells in fragments of Atlantic rain-forest. Since then I have been thinking about this bird; the short-browed owl. This trip was an attempt to find short-browed owl.

July 8th. Tui and the boys leave the house early, so after walking Maile, the dog, I return her to an empty house. I grab my pack and say goodbye to Maile, and walk to the MAX light rail. I arrive at the airport with an abundance of time. At boarding time, the lady at the gate announces there is a problem with the plane's door. Soon, it becomes apparent that I am not going to make my connection at Houston. I do my best to stay calm and wait. Eventually my name is called and the gate lady tells me that I can switch flights, and go via Chicago. I feel really lucky that she has done this for me, and everything works out. I fly to Chicago, and change there to a Sao Paulo bound flight.

July 9th. I have been experiencing a trapped nerve for about 6 weeks. Standing and walking had been fine, but sitting is hard. Despite a beer and a muscle relaxant, the red-eye to Sao Paulo is painful and it is really hard to sleep. 

I meet Alex Mesquita, my guide (cariamabirding@gmail.com), at arrivals in Sao Paulo. Alex is a really warm and engaging guy. He's a biologist who works full time as a bird guide and is also ebird's Brazil coordinator. I immediately take a liking to Alex, and despite some struggles to bridge our language gap, we spend most of our trip talking. It's a long drive out of Sao Paulo, which is truly one of the world's mega cities. From the highway it's modern looking place that has a decidedly North American feel. We pass under a bridge, over which Jair Bolosonaro's supporters mostly dressed in yellow and green. We stop for lunch at a big roadside buffet, a good option for a vegan like me.  Further down the highway, we turn onto a rough dusty track that leads into some forested green hills. We drive to a reserve called Legado das Aguas. After about 20km of dirt road we reach a reserve headquarters which has small rooms and a cafeteria. 

                                            View from Legado das Aguas headquarters

After a quick coffee, we set off back the down hill to some roadside forest in search of least pygmy owl. This is a tiny pygmy owl that inhabits the Mata Atlantica (Atlantic rainforest of southeast Brazil). It's not a rare bird, but it's much easier to hear than to see. At the first stop, we are stunned to hear the pygmy owl right away- a pair of two rather long (for a pygmy owl) notes, repeated at intervals. The owl is calling from a steep forested hillside. We wait, hoping that it will descend and that we won't have to scramble up the near cliff of viney tangles. Eventually I catch sight of the tennis-ball sized owl in flight. It takes another half hour of searching before we find the owl, perched below the canopy. The chest of the owl is rusty brown, with white streaks that eventually merge and become a white belly. The back is brown. The tail is quite short, with at least 3 white stripes. The bill and eyes are yellow. The forehead is covered with fine pale spots and is perhaps slightly grayer than the back. What an excellent start to the trip!

On the way back to the park headquarters we stop and check out a beautiful bat falcon. It is perched in a lone pine tree above a dam, waiting for big dragonflies.  At sunset we leave the headquarters again, and take the bumpy road back down the hill, across the river and up the far side of the valley. We pull into a clearing. This is a site for Atlantic mottled owl. (The mottled owls of the Atlantic forests of Brazil are considered a likely split from populations in the Amazon basin). We settle in and wait. Almost immediately a big owl flies across the clearing. We spotlight it, and realize that it's a tawny browned owl. This is the more common larger owl of the Atlantic forest. High above a distant mottled owl sings. We hike up an abandoned logging track for about half a kilometer. We get close to the singing owl, and start spotlighting. We play cat and mouse with the owl, as it moves about the forest, singing occasionally. It's a steep slope, and it's not easy following it through the forest. Eventually I glimpse it against the moon lit sky as it flies silently over us. Despite a sustained effort, we don't get any better views, and we eventually decide to try elsewhere. On the drive back to the headquarters, we try at a second spot, and again a tawny-browed owl flies in and perches conspicuously. 

We decide to take a break, and eat a late dinner at the headquarters. There I meet two cool Brazilian birders, Thomas Mella and Gabrielle Leche. Both guys are really engaging birders who have great enthusiasm for owls. We return to the forest, driving alongside the reservoir. At the first stop we find a pair of tawny-browed owls. A few stops further on we hear a distant black-banded owl. This is a bird I have seen before, but not often. Reluctant we decide to press on in our quest for Atlantic mottled owls. Eventually we find a singing Atlantic mottled owl. It swoops just a couple of feet from our heads, and perches out on an open branch. We enjoy beautiful views of this fantastic owl. It looks similar to the Amazonian birds that I have seen. It's dark eyed, rich chocolate brown above, tawny below, thickly streaked with dark brown on the chest. This is a new bird for me.

                                        Atlantic mottled owl (photo by Alex Mesquita)

Before we call it a night, we decide to try for black capped screech owl, a species I have seen just once on a prior trip to Brazil. We explore a trail from the headquarters but we hear nothing. I resolve to try again, before dawn.

July 10th. I wake to my alarm an hour before dawn. I strap on my snake guards, and set off to the black-capped screech owl trail. Almost immediately, I hear the long wavering call of the screech-owl from a gully far below the trail. It's a nasty little scramble through some thorny vines to the gully. The owl sounds impossibly close when it reveals itself on the far side of a big leaf just a few feet from my face. I meet Alex for breakfast and happily report my find. Having found our targets, we decide to do a little general birding. The weather is cool, and consequently bird activity is low. We run into a couple of mixed flocks and find a scarce Sao Paulo tyrannulet. We return to the park headquarters for lunch, before departing for Intervales, one of Brazil's most important Atlantic forest reserves. 

We spend most of the afternoon driving to Intervales, reaching the reserve late in the afternoon. We check into a grand, but tired looking colonial style lodge. It's late in the afternoon, and the sun on the green hills is just beautiful. 

                                                       View from the old lodge at Intervales

I take a quick swim in a chilly outdoor pool, then we drive back out of the park to meet up with a local guide, Gerson. Alex very conscientiously supports local guides, by hiring them when operating in their areas. It's well past sunset when we pull up along some roadside secondary forest. We are looking for long-tufted screech owl, which is at the Northeastern limit of it's range. A least pygmy owl sings. We drive down the dusty road to a stand of roadside pines. I hear a distant long-tufted screech, and we quickly follow it down the road. I see it flying between the pines, and soon Alex has spotlighted it. It's a large, brown-eyed screech owl with strong barring below. We hear two songs, a short purring trill and a series of slightly gruff notes. A second bird calls from the far side of a thicket, but remains out of view. 

We back track down the road and pull up next to a gate. There we hear a pair of rusty-barred owls. This is a beautiful owl that I had tried to find on my last trip to Brazil at Itatiaia National Park. Their voices are magnificently deep and resonant. Soon, I see one bird in flight. Alex finds a perched bird in an araucaria tree. We get brief but beautiful views of this stout, barrel chested owl with big dark eyes, and gorgeous white and rufous barred chest. We run Gerson home, and stop at a local cafe to celebrate with dinner and a Heineken. While driving back to the lodge we flush a hare (introduced from Portugal). From the balcony we hear a couple for tropical screech owls, and glimpse one in flight. In the distance we hear a couple of rusty-barred owls, but despite our best efforts they remain stubbornly out of sight.

July 11th. I am up well before dawn, and decide to try and get a decent view of a tropical screech owl. I walk around the park-like area around the lodge, and eventually find a tropical screech owl low in a small tree. It's a beautiful red-phase bird. I also flush a couple of pauraques. 

Alex and I meet at 630am, as first light breaks over the small forested hills to the East. We drive along the long dusty entrance road back to the highway. We find a bakery, and stop for espresso. It's a long seven hour drive to Persepolis. I discover that Alex shares my love of Rage Against the Machine, so we listen happily to the first two albums. Better still Alex introduces me to Chico Science e Nacao Zumbi, a sort of Brazilian Clash that are just brilliant; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RHJB3o0ed0Q As we cross Sao Paulo State, I am struck by how much this part of Brazil is like the United States, being modern, industrial and highly developed. We stop for a buffet lunch, where I grab the best looking vegan options. Mid afternoon we check into a modern hotel. Then we meet our local guide, Wagner in Persepolis, a small market town set in rolling grassy hills, that look surprisingly like California. Wagner had recently found a buff fronted owl nest. This is a bird that I have found in Northern Peru, but the birds that occur on the East of the continent are considered a likely split. We head out of town through cow pastures to a place called Conceicao dos Ouros. We find a roadside pair of burrowing owls along the way.

                                    Burrowing owl site (they are there, in the background)!

We pull up next to a large stone building. Wagner shows us a female great-horned owl on a nest in a tree. I soon find the male bird, perched nearby. This is the first great-horned that I have seen East of the Andes in South America. The birds look similar to those in the East of the USA, rather richly colored, with the female bird having rustier-colored cheeks. Wagner tells us that the large building we are standing near used to house slaves. Again I am reminded of the similarities between this place and the USA. It's disturbing to think of the horrors that occurred in that building. 

                                                                 The slave building

We drive further up the valley as the sun sets. Wagner shows us a church where barn owls live. We peer into the steeple, but can't see any owls.

                                                                Barn owl church

We drive a couple kilometers past the lonely church, and park by some open cow pastures. We walk to a line of mostly dead shade trees planted along a long-abandoned track. Alex and I are both surprised when we arrive at the nest hole, it's in a very open location, about 300m from the nearest scrubby woodlot. 

                             Wagner (on the left) and Alex at the buff-fronted owl site.

We stand around near the nest hole waiting. It's fairly cold, but beautiful out here. Below a ferruginous pygmy owl sings. A couple of tropical screech owls start sing back and forth. Finally a buff fronted owl sings from the woodlot below. Another responds from a little further away. Darkness descends, and a big moon rises. My eyes remain fixed on the nest cavity. Something passes by the hole, but it's impossible to be certain it wasn't a bat. After two hours, I am cold and stiff. Wagner decides to scratch the nest tree. This is an excellent idea, and immediately the female pokes her head out of the cavity, and glares at us! I get good views of this fantastic little owl, before she eventually flies out of the cavity. Wagner assures us better views are in store, we just have to be patient. I am so cold, I lay in the grass and stare into the trees. Eventually the female owl returns and perches right above me. She stares at me from about three meters. It's a shocking and brilliant view. I stare at her for ages. Every time I make a tiny noise she tenses up and stares, looking like she is going to pounce on me! She has incredible yellow eyes. the upper and lower part of the bill are horn-gray, but the middle part (where the mandibles meet) is darker gray. The cheeks are a rich yellow-buff, surrounded by a thin, chocolate-colored facial disc. Like eye-shadow, the feathers extending up and out from the eyes are dusky. The upper-parts are chocolate brown, with a few scattered white spots on the wings. She eventually returns to her hole. The male then sings from a closer perch, and we catch a brief view of him in the torch light. 

On the drive back we hear rufous nightjar. We stop at the church, and three barn owls emerge from the steeple! One perches nearby we we get excellent views of it low in a tree. I marvel at it's plumage-I don't think I have seen a barn owl with such perfect feathers. Each is just perfection. 

We drive back to Persepolis and stop at a little pizza place for a late dinner and a celebratory beer. It's late when we finally make it back to the hotel.  

July 12th. We leave the hotel when it's still dark to go birding, stopping for espresso. Returning to the same road we visited yesterday, we stop at some roadside forest. We check in on the burrowing owls, they are still there. Later we find a second pair a couple of kilometers down the road. We leave Persepolis, and drive over the mountains. At a pass Alex buys a bag of araucaria seeds from a roadside vendor. We descend down to a wide agricultural valley, where we stop to check out a family of three, very tame, burrowing owls. After we stop by Alex's home town, and his wife Olivia joins us for lunch. Olivia stays behind, while we press on to Salesopolis. This is a small hill town, set in the final range of mountains before the Atlantic shore. We stop at a grocery store and buy two case of bananas to feed the tanagers at the next lodge. From town it's just a short drive on a dusty road to Sitio Macuquinho, https://www.sitiomacuquinho.com.br/ a new lodge run by a lovely couple Elvis and Nanda. The lodge is surrounded by a mosaic of second growth Atlantic forest, eucalyptus forest and small marshes. The grounds are full of feeds and dozens of hummingbirds, tanagers and other birds. Elvis explains that he had seen short-browed owl in the grounds of the lodge just a few days ago. Alex tells me that in Southeast Brazil, this is a very special bird. The Amazonian form of spectacled owl is scarce in the cerrado just to the North, and short-browed owl is more regular, but scarce in Bahia and other states to the Northeast. However in Sao Paulo state, Alex explains, this is the first bird detected in a couple of decades. 

We spend the afternoon watching the birds around the lodge and eating boiled araucaria seeds. Alex shows me a orange-eyed thornbird in some reeds and we see a black-legged dacnis on the feeder. We spend some time in a hide, and are eventually rewarded with close views of a pair of brown tinamou. As it gets dark, we wait at the end of the lawn, staring at a stand of trees, hoping for the short-browed owl to return. Eventually we depart and start walking around the nearby forest. It's cool and quite windy. Alex explains that on nights like this the owls don't sing. True enough, unlike every other night on the trip, we hear just one distant rusty-barred owl. Eventually it starts to rain, so we decide to quit and resume owling before dawn.

July 13th. We wake early and set out well before dawn in our search for the elusive short-browed owl. It's cool, calm and cloudy, and the forest is silent. We walk around and listen, but find nothing. Eventually we return to the lodge at daybreak and sleep a little more.  

Nanda has made us a nice breakfast. Feeling recuperated we set off for some general birding. Near the lodge Alex shows me Bertoni's, dusky-tailed and ochre-rumped antbirds and white-shouldered fire-eye. I keep an eye out for roosting owls, but find none. We spend the rest of the day hanging around the lodge, and looking at Elvis' photos of short-browed owl. We also listen to his sound recordings, which sound different from spectacled owl. The song has a similar structure, but lacks the quality of a vibrating sheet of metal that makes the spectacled' call so distinctive. In the afternoon we visit a nearby marsh in search of the very rare and local Sao Paulo antwren. We hear a couple of antwrens in some distant reed-beds, but don't see any.    

Dusk eventually arrives, and we return to our position at the end of the lawn, staring, somewhat forlornly at a stand trees, hoping that a short-browed owl will show up. We eventually wander around the lodge's trails, and then to progressively further locations along a series of dirt roads. We hear two or three rusty-barred owls, a distant Atlantic mottled owl and we flush a roadside occelated poorwill and a couple of beautiful long-trained nightjars. 

After everyone goes to bed, I walk a 6km circuit around the lodge. The moon is full and conditions are great. It's beautiful to be out in the forest alone and to move at my own pace. Still, I fail to find anything of interest. 

July 14th. I wake well before dawn, and stumble into my boots and out the door. Alex is already waiting for me, and we make our way to our vigil at the end of the lawn. There is no owl today, so we hike around the lodge's trail system. The moon is big, and low in the sky. It's beautiful and calm out. The sky eventually lightens and like vampires, we return to our rooms to sleep. 

After breakfast we return to the marsh an this time get to see Sao Paulo antwren. This bird was first described in 2013! We hike along an old logging road and find rough-legged tyrannulet, squamate antbird and spot-breasted antshrike.

                                                    Alex birding near Sitio Macuquinho
After lunch I take a siesta, which really helps as I have been short on sleep for the entire trip, and I want to have energy for tonight-my last chance for the short-browed owl. 

At dusk we wait again at the end of the garden for the owl to appear, and again it does not show. In the distance a rusty-barred and tropical screech both sing. We set off on foot and try the surrounding forest, but don't hear anything. A little crestfallen we return for dinner. Nanda has (with great care and kindness) made vegan pizza. After every new vegan dish, she always checks in with me and asks with concern if I liked the food. She's a great cook, and a very kind person. After dinner we set out in the Nissan to the top of the hill above the lodge. At the first stop we find a beautiful rusty-barred. Both the contact call and the song are much higher pitched than the other rusty-barred. We consider perhaps the bird has a genetic deficit that causes the strange call or an infection? Alex drives us up a steep muddy track, where we flush a long-trained nightjar. We park at the top of the hill and walk towards a small community. A tropical screech owl flushes, and thanks to the moon, we are able to locate it perched in a small tree. A little further along the road we hear a second tropical screech. Returning to the Nissan, Alex sees a pool of oil under the car. He crawls under, and finds a major leak. Alex looks really stressed. We jump in and he drives as fast as he can back to the lodge before the motor runs completely out of oil. Alex and Elvis discuss the Nissan. By now it's 10pm, and we decide to call it a night. 

July 15th. No yet ready to give up on the short-browed owl, I am up at 3am. I take a 5km walk along some dirt roads a little further from the lodge. I hear three rusty-barred owls. The moon is so bright and the walk is beautiful. It feels good just to be here, even if I haven't found my big bad owl. 

I hike quickly back over the ridge to the lodge in order to meet Alex at 5am for our final owl prowl. We return to the hill where we found the rusty barred yesterday. In the distance a tropical screech sings. We reach a clearcut, where the road starts to descend. To the East the sky turns red, as the night bleeds into dawn. We linger at this beautiful place for several minutes, not quite ready to concede defeat, but unwilling to hike down  the hill into the clearcut. Alex calls out, "that's it", just behind us a short-browed owl sings. Almost immediately I see the big owl, perched low in a scrappy tree. We turn on the lights. Fuck! It really is a short-browed. We give each other a big hug, then settle in to watch the owl. It's eyes are golden, the bill heavy and horn colored. A grayish white cross forms around the bill, two lines, extending like short eye brows over the eye, and two radiating out below the eyes, like a mustache. The rest of the head is blackish. The "eye brows" are shorter and thinner than those of the spectacled owl. The upper part of the chest is blackish, and the rest of the underparts are a rich ochraceous. The blackish tail has about ten gray bars. Similarly the dark flight feathers are barred with gray. The rest of the upper-parts are blackish with a few light spots. When the owl turns it's head, it's neck feathers ruffle, and we can see that they have a lighter brown base, and darker edge. The owl sings for a minute, while staring intently at the nearby rusty-barred owl. (Elvis has told us that the short-browed had predated on a juvenile rusty-barred). It flies a short distance, but perches again in the open, and we enjoy fantastic views. 

                                            Short-browed owl (photo by Alex Mesquita)
We can't believe our luck. Dawn spreads across the sky and both owls soon fall silent. I have a flight to catch today. We found it literally in the last ten minutes of darkness during our 3 day quest. Happily we walk back to the lodge, gushing about the owl. It's a lifer for Alex. Back at the lodge, I am way too excited to sleep, and replay the encounter over and over in my mind's eye. 

When I tell Elvis about our sighting, he tells me we found the owl, because last night the owl visited him in a dream. Nanda and Elvis are both really enthusiastic about our sighting. 

                                                    Alex, Elvis, myself and Nanda

After breakfast we abandon the Nissan, and borrow Elvis and Nanda's FIAT. Alex runs me to the airport at Sao Paulo. Repeated he warns me to be very careful at Belem. The security situation there isn't so good. We say goodbye at the airport. I have really enjoyed owling with Alex, and hope that I get a chance to meet him again. 

It's a fairly long, (3 1/2 hour) uneventful flight to Belem on LATAM. I don't have a lot of site information, and Alex's warnings have me a little spooked. I pick up a rental car at the airport. Thankfully, I am able to use my phone to navigate out of Belem, which is pretty intense during rush hour and a big thunderstorm. Thousands of small motorbikes weave in and out of traffic. Belem feels like all the Amazonian cities I have visited, youthful, vibrant and noisy. Thankfully the rain does not last long. I stop at a small roadside eatery. The place is full of police drinking beer. I don't know whether to feel safe or unsafe around them, so I ignore them completely.  At 8pm, I reach my destination, Sao Barbara do Para. I search for a good area to owl, that's quiet and away from people. I park the rental car next to a church, and take a gated logging track into the forest. It's incredibly humid out of the car. And loud; with frogs and insects all singing. My quest here is the Belem form of the tawny-bellied screech owl. Sidnei Dantas had published a paper earlier in the year suggesting a major revision the the tawny-bellied/black-capped screech owl complex. Tanwy-bellieds occurring East and South of Belem being proposed as a unique species. 

I head off down the forest track, relieved it does not pass any houses. Surprisingly soon, I hear my first tawny-bellied screech owl, singing a long purring trill. The song has highly ventriloquial qualities, and the owl is clearly singing from high in the trees. I creep around the forest trying to spotlight the owl, while keeping an eye out for snakes. The owl seems indifferent to my efforts, and only moves a couple of times despite my light. At one point I get completely disorientated and abandon looking for the owl. With no moon or city lights to orientate myself, I panic for a minute. I then remember to get my phone, and use the compass on the phone. That way I can at least walk in a consistent direction. With great relief I emerge from the forest onto the track. I decide to ditch this owl, even though it's been singing for 90 minutes, and try for another one. I walk for a few kilometers through white sand and red clay forest. Several times to track is covered by shallow pools of water, but each time, I am able to skirt by them and continue on. I don't see much, just a pauraque. Still it's a beautiful warm night, with a big moon over the palms. I am surprised not to hear more owls, only a distant crested owl from deep in the forest. I decide to return to the original tawny-bellied screech owl. When arrive, it's still singing. This time I decide to focus on seeing the bird as it flies over the track. After a tough 45 minutes, I do catch sight of the owl as it flies across a gap in the canopy. It's after midnight, and I have been up since 3am, so I decide to call it a night. I drive to a modest hotel with secure parking by the side of the highway and grab a couple of beers to celebrate.

July 16th Reluctantly I rouse myself at first light. After a quick breakfast I head out to the forest. I don't have any special birding goals left, but I am reluctant to leave for the airport without returning to the forest. I walk along a red clay road, through brilliant green forest. I search for ferruginous pygmy-owl. I don't find any owls, but I do pass a piggery. A mass of black vultures stand in the grass, just beyond the pigs. Something has died and the smell is over powering. The whole place is fantastic, the hugeness of the forest, the humidity, the power of the sun, the hulking vultures that have just feasted and can barely fly. With regret I return to the rental car, and start my long journey home.


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