In search of the tecolote. Part One
In the indigenous language of Nahautl, the word for owl, tecolote, translates as stone bird.
In 2013 I went to southern Mexico to find some owls. Here's what happened.
April 12th Tui drops me off at PDX mid-afternoon. I had been feeling a bit nervous about the trip for a few days, so it is good to finally start. I fly on Alaska Air down to LAX, which is a zoo as usual. I have plenty of time to figure things out. The automated check in machines are broke, and there is a good deal of confusion at the Aeromexico desk. The plane however is brand new, and real plush.
April 13th. I arrive in Benito Juarez airport in Mexico City, which is calm and urban. After a three hour wait I catch a short flight to Oaxaca City. It is just as a remembered. Clean, old and beautiful. I eat a traditional Oaxacan breakfast at a cafe next to the bus terminal, then email Tui and buy water.
An hour later I catch a decently fast bus to Tehuantepec. The bus crosses a lot of rugged cactus covered limestone mountains. Tehuantepec, is hot and busy. I eat a couple of cabeza tacos. The counter of the cafe has an entire bull's head on it, from which the cook carves meat. I catch a share taxi to Puente Tejas. The driver tells me a great story about walking for 10 days to cross the US border. He then made his way to Idaho, where he worked as a gardener for three years, then bought a Silverado and returned home with his prized truck. From Puente Tejas, its a 7km walk to the right to the Guingola ruins. I hike down the gravel road for about 2km, where I take an obvious track to my left which leads to a dry canyon originating from the huge limestone escarpment above. The forest here is deciduous thorn forest with a few cacti. I arrive well before dusk, and am covered with sweat bees as I wait. Soon the bees attract half a dozen lizards which perch on and around me, and eat the bees! A Ridgeway's pygmy owl starts calling near by, and I am able call it in by whistling and get excellent views. I see its streaked crown bold white spotting on it's scapulars and long pale-banded tail which it pumps side to side as it sings. What a great start! I play my collection of Oaxacan screech owl recordings to find the best one, when I hear a Oaxacan screech owl respond. A rough "bouncing ball" song! I walk up to a gully and flush a screech owl in daylight. Amazing! I decide to wait for night to see if I could get a better view. I doze in the early evening listening to the sound of two or three pygmy owls singing. At dusk I play the recording again. A big screech owl flies into an adjacent tree. I see it's indistinctly marked brown back. Each time I play the tape, the owl moves, so I eventually get to see its yellow eyes, and faintly marked breast. On my way back to the main road I tape again, and with in two seconds a Oaxacan Screech flies in to the tree. This time I see the bushy, lightly marked eye-brows, a gray bill with a greenish gray tip and bristly feathered toes. Like the first bird it is brownish gray. Another nearby Oaxacan screech owl calls. In the distance, on the mountain side I hear a loud "kow kow kow" . I can't assign it to an owl so perhaps it is a mammal?
It is a short happy hike to Puente Tejas, where I easily catch a share taxi to Tehuantepec. I buy a bus ticket to Tuxtla. I eat some good street food and catch the 2315pm bus to Tuxtla and fall sound asleep soon after boarding.
April 14th I arrive at Tuxtla at 4am. Too tired to do anything I find the nearest hotel and crash until noon. It is great to shower and change into clean clothes. I catch a combi to the plaza, which I recognize from nineteen years ago. I email Tui and Jose Luis (the guy who is helping me organize a trip to El Triunfo). I then set off for El Sumidero-the hilltop reserve that overlooks a flooded canyon. After a couple of false starts I figure the route out. On board the combi up the hill, I sit next to a Mexican rocker, with a heavily pierced face and long hair. He wants me to translate a Metallica song, which I couldn't do. He has the hardest time believing that I love punk music, and keeps commenting on my short gray hair. I get dropped off at the top of Tuxtla, and from there it is a pretty grueling climb to the top of the plateau. I have my back pack on, which is heavy with water bottles, and the sun is relentless. At the top of the climb I stash my bag under some trees, then walk along the now level road. Pretty soon a guy in a truck offers to give me a ride to the end of the road. He warns me that it isn't safe here after dark. This is a bit awkward as he kindly offers to take me back to town. I slip away from him and find a nice shady place to wait for dark. My waiting place is right next to the cliff that overlooks the flooded canyon almost 1000m below. It is an incredible view, made all the better by a dirty red sunset. While I wait I hear a Ridgeway's pygmy-owl, but it doesn't come in to my tape.
I prep my iPod and speakers, then set out along the road back towards Tuxtla. The first time I play for Guatemalan screech owl, I get a response! I try to get close to the owl, but as I noisily advance on it through the dry forest, it recedes. Eventually I give up and try for a more aggressive bird. Still this is a good start. At my next stop which is adjacent to the turn off for the penultimate mirador, a medium sized owl flew in. I am able to spotlight it right away, and to my surprise I have misjudged the size and it is a screech owl. It has a brownish back, whitish eye-brows, yellow eyes and a gray-horn bill. It is not strongly streaked below, but a little more strongly marked than last night's Oaxacan screech.The owl then flies into a thicket and commences singing a 3-8 second toad-like trill, which gradually became louder. Wow a Guatemalan screech owl. Brilliant! (There are no references to the species occurring at this site online; only an old reference from Howell's book). I spend 15 minutes trying top obtain a better view, and despite getting very close to me, it behaves like a typical vermiculated-type and remains artfully out of view.
About 1-2 km down the road, where there is an exposed cliff on the left side of the road, I tape in a Mexican Mottled Owl. I have lovely close up views of this gorgeous owl. It's so much more beautiful in the feather than on paper. After turning off my light, I watch the owl calling in silhouette. It's dark body pumps rhythmically. In the vicinity I hear whiskered screech owls, this is a surprisingly low elevation, but the call sounds spot on. I hear another Guatemalan screech, and then two more near the turn off for Coyota Mirador. Finally by the deer crossing sign, I encounter a singing Ridgeway's, and get brief views. I also find several buff-colored nightjars in the area, hear a potoo and a lesser nighthawk.
I find my back pack easily and dust off the invading ants. Nearby I find a side road that leads to a flat area of grass and rocks that overlook Tuxtla. Above me the cloudy sky is saturated orange by the city's sodium lights. The air hums from overhead power lines. After such a brilliant night it takes a while to calm down and sleep. I dream that I show my Mam a flooded graveyard, and she is frightened.
April 15th I wake by my alarm at four. It is good to get up as the ground beneath is rocky and I am cold. It is a brief steep rocky hike back to Tuxtla. I find an Oxxo and buy coffee and juice. Then I catch a combi down to the zocalo. At the zocalo, I sip my juice and watch the city awaken. At six, I catch a cab to the meeting point for the group that I am to accompany to El Triunfo. The trip is arranged by Jose Luis Rangel Salazar, jlrangel@ecosur.mx , a biologist from San Cristobal. A photographer named Sergio greets me. We chat in Spanish for a while while the rest of the group, mostly graduate students and photographers assembles. It is a surprisingly long drive to Finca Prusia interrupted by a tasty lunch and a flat tire.
It is quite a long wait at Finca Prusia, an old coffee estate, while our group and a second group of photographers are ferried up to the trail-head in a pick-up. At the trail-head our gear is loaded onto mules. Then we commence a long, hot 12 km hike to the camp. I arrive around 6pm. The camp at El Triunfo is absolutely beautiful. It is a collection small buildings, set in a clearing ringed by mountains covered in subtropical cloud forest. Our hardworking mules graze the pasture, no doubt as relieved as we are to be done with the hike. We are given blackberry juice and gorditas served with fiery chilies. It tastes perfect. At dusk we are served a good dinner. While eating Pedro, one of the owl guys, hears a fulvous owl. We shoot out of the dining hall and realize it is really close. It try spotlighting the bird, but it moves deeper into the forest. I bring out my player, and tape it, but that doesn't help. Then Pedro explains that tapes are banned in the reserve. Ah shit! The owl has fallen silent and I give up and finish my dinner.
After eating I leave alone and explore the trail that loops around the north side of the camp. I am able to get brief views of a flying fulvous owl! It looks magnificent in flight. It's huge, broad winged and utterly silent. This is a bird I really want to see in full color. To that end I work the entrance trail until midnight. Surprising fulvous owls are common here and I hear about eight birds. I see a couple of ringtails and lots of tall trees. At one point I get really close to a singing bird, but the tall trees make it impossible to see.
Back at the cabins the photographers are worried about me. They thought I was lost or eaten by pumas.
April 16th. I sleep until nine, by which time the camp is abandoned. I climb the ridge above camp, which leads through somewhat stunted cloud forest. Mostly I am killing time until the owls came out. Still it is a beautiful place. I am half expecting to track down a day roosting owl, like all the photos I had seen online. At the top of the ridge I am surprised that the haze prevents me from seeing the Pacific. It's been a dry spring and the air is dusty. At lunch we are served amazing tacos with sour cream and fiery hot sauce.
That afternoon I work the Bandera trail, which follows a small creek. Along the trail I get to see a horned guan. this is a near mythical and absolutely gigantic denizen of the mountain. No owls though. I return for more food and a hot shower. After dinner the guys arrange for me to assist with their research on the relationship between the hour, the moon and the frequency of fulvous owl song.
Pedro, Jose-Raul and I take a longish hike along the same ridge trail I had followed earlier today. We hear about eight fulvous owls. One is really close, but falls silent as we approach. We are all done by eleven, but I am too tired to go out on my own.
April 17th. My alarm awoke me at four, but sadly I ignore it. At dawn I get up with everyone and after breakfast, Jose-Raul and I set out on the ridge trail. We get great views of a pair of horned guans and chlorophonias, plus a hazy view of the Pacific. After lunch I laze around and read books. I sleep a bit, then bird the clearing. Best bird is a female black-crested coquette. After dinner we hear a fulvous owl. I try to find it, but despite getting close the tall trees made it impossible.
Just before dusk, Pedro and I depart on another fulvous owl survey along the Bandera trail. We hear many birds. (In contrast to a trip a few months ago when few were heard and none along this trail). Several birds call as pairs, the first call would be from a male, soon followed by a very similar, but slightly higher call of a female. We are done surveying at eleven. We indulge in quesadillas and hot chocolate before going to bed.
April 18th. This time, I get up when my alarm went off at four. I stealthily leave the camp and return to the Bandera trail. This trail passes several clearings, which I think would be helpful for seeing owls. I hear a short screech that sounds like the call of a female spotted owl. Immediately after I hear a pair of fulvous owls dueting. The dueting builds to a crescendo of rapid and excited calling. Perhaps it's mating season for fulvous owls? I hear more fulvous owls along the creek. I also encounter a brilliantly pied skunk. It is very confident. It is disinterested in moving off the trail. I follow it cautiously for quite a ways before it moves aside and allows me to pass. Just before dawn I hear a crashing above me, which turns out to be a spider monkey. (Apparently they are quite rare, and this sighting generates a lot of interest back at the camp). As the skies lighten I hear another owl. I eventually see it fly across a clearing twice. The last view is good enough to see the markings on the flight feathers. I hike happily back to camp, and arrive as all are leaving. This is perfect, as I can sleep undisturbed all morning.
We eat excellent chicken empanadas for lunch. How many times could we revisit the same poor chicken? (Fried on Monday, tacos on Tuesday, made into soup on Wednesday and refried in empenadas on Thursday)! After lunch, I walk around the loop near the camp, and find a small snake and another horned guan. Back at the camp, Brenda invites me to watch a quetzal's nest. This turns out to be not as exciting as I would have imagined. For two hours we wait in a hide, bitten by many mosquitoes. All we see are a long tail feather protrude from the nest hole.
That night Pedro, Brenda and I survey for Fulvous owls. It's not that productive and we hear about three birds.
April 19th. Pedo and I leave at 5 am to check out a potential nest site. Unfortunately we see and hear nothing by dawn, when we give up and return for breakfast. After breakfast Nancy takes me to visit the remote sound recording devices used to record the calls of guans and owls at El Triunfo. We pass the quetzal nest, and get great views of the male bird looking out of the nest hole, with its tail held over its head like a squirrel.
The hike back to Finca Prusia is easy and uneventful. The drive back is hot and dusty. We stop again at Jaltenengo for a late lunch. I have time to email Tui. Just out of Jaltenengo one of the cars in our convoy dies. Eventually it's abandoned along with it's unlucky owner. It's a really long dusty drive to Tuxtla. Along the side of the road we pass many brush fires, whipped along by strong winds.
In Tuxtla there is a soccer match and traffic is truly terrible. Eventually we drop off most of the group, before driving up to San Cristobal with Jose-Luis. We arrive after ten in San Cris. Jose-Luis does not want me to visit Huitepec after dark, which is a bit frustrating for an owler. He suggest a good hotel for me. I find a hotel to stash my backpack. I hide my gear under a jacket and walk out to the zocalo. I have to ask three different cabbies about Huitepec, before I find one who knows the reserve. Ten minutes later he drops me off at the entrance. He hovers, concerned that the entrance is locked. I grin at him and give a thumbs up, hop the locked gate and slip as quietly as possible into the oak forest without a light to give me away to unseen observers.
April 20th. Once I am deep in the forest and away from people, I start owling, My first target is bearded screech-owl. An apparently fairly tricky little owl. After an hour of working the oak forest I hear a barely audible reply. Amazingly I find the bird overhead and really close. It looks very small for a screech owl. It shows white eye-brows, yellow eyes, bare legs, its back is warm chestnut brown and it's chest is white with brown occelated crescents. The song is a very quiet trill, shorter and lower in pitch than the Guatemalan screech's. Excellent! A beautiful little owl. Reminds me of bare-shanked screech or cloud forest screech. Now for the others! I hike into a valley on the right side of the reserve, and from there up to a col, then left to a peak. From the peak I descend along the other side of the ridge. I play and listen regularly for unspotted saw-whet, but get no response. I do hear a Mexican Mottled owl close to the summit. I am anxious to see the saw-whet, having missed it in Costa Rica, it is my most wanted bird of the trip.
As I descend from the peak the trail became very indistinct, I have to hunt around at times to locate it. Eventually I return to a major trail, which leads me to a shelter. It is four in the morning, and I am really exhausted. I fall asleep for an hour, then wake freezing. I head back into San Cris. It is a long walk, about 10km, and I don't have change for a cab or combi. It takes a while for me to find my hotel, but once I do, I sleep beautifully 'till noon. Feeling restored I walk back to the reserve. Foolishly I had lost my hat, and had hoped to find one for sale on my long sunny walk to the reserve. Instead the sun beat down on me mercilessly. I also mistakenly thought I had seen a hotel near the reserve. Alas there is none, so I have to haul my gear all the way to the reserve. I very carefully bury my bag in the reserve, as it is frequently used as a route by local people between their farms and San Cris.
Once free of my gear, I work on Guatemalan pygmy-owl for a couple of hours. I then take a break to buy a tasty torta and have a coke, before returning to the reserve for two more hours of pygmy-owl searching.
Night falls, and I switch to searching for saw whet-owls. I try the main loop trail, which look excellent, with mature trees, laden with epiphytes. Alas no response. By 930pm I am feeling really tired. I unearth my gear and set up my tent.
April 21st I set my alarm for 230am. I hike up to the col and down the far side. Near the abandoned research station station I get a really weak response from a saw-whet. The bird is clearly near me, but is neither aggressive nor persistent in it's response. Soon it's fallen silent and I eventually give up.
I also work the loop trail, but get no response. Now it's 630am and I make my way to the road. I catch a combi to San Cris. I find a shit hotel, and drop off my gear. Behind the hotel the road is barricaded by protesters, demonstrating for the rights of indigenous people. Then I catch a cab to Moxviquil reserve on the other side of town. It's a pine covered hillside that apparently has Guatemalan Pygmy-owls. I rapidly climb the hill, then explore the fields and scrub covered hills beyond, before returning back to San Cris by mid morning.
Back in town I buy a hat at the market and find some coffee and hot tamales from a street vendor. Ah that's better. I return to the hotel to call a guy Javier, who was recommended as a guide and schedule an owling trip to Huitepec tonight. At the hotel an amazingly tired old whore argues with the desk clerk about room rates, then drags a remarkably youthful and somewhat unfortunate looking boy to her room.
After using the internet I catch a combi out to Occosingo Road. I miss Howell's site and instead explore a road to the right, 3km from the turn off. I work the area to the left of this road. I find lots of great habitat with a mosaic of pine forest and humid epiphyte rich humid oak forest. Jose-Raul had warned me that this is not a very safe area. The land is controlled by indigenous people, who were at war with the Mexican State in the 1990s, and bad feelings towards outsiders continue to this day. I do my best to dodge the indigenous people that I do see in their forest. The one group who sees me does not respond to my "hola". Soon after the heavens open, and I am soaked by a ninety minute rainstorm.
At four the rains let up and I am able to continue my pygmy-owl quest, but it is to no avail. I soon catch a combi back to San Cris. In town I eat a delicious burger and change to another combi and go out to Huitepec. The rain starts again, and continues for an hour. I am beginning to think that Javier is not going to show, when he arrives on his motor cycle just as the rain lets up. Javier turns out to be a park guard I had met yesterday. He is a nice guy, but definitely not a passionate bird guy. He takes me to the partially cleared valley on the right side of the reserve, where the owls held territory last year. Alas we get no response. After that he looks a little deflated and we wander the loop trail and tape for saw-whets, but get no response. I am beginning to tire of Huitepec, it's a very small reserve and it's easy to lose hope when working the same trails. We call it a night and I catch a cab back to town and get some sleep.
April 22nd. I leave my hotel at six, walk across San Cris to the combi station, where I eat good tamales and drink hot coffee. I catch a combi to Howell's site on Occosingo road, and start birding at 7am. Dawn is misty, damp and absolutely beautiful. Above me are cliffs of limestone, bathed in yellow light. The forest smells wonderful and reminds me of the ponderosa forests of Northern Arizona. I work the road until it ends in fields, then climb the ridge, and work my way along, until I descend onto the road I worked yesterday. I see lots of good birds including pink-headed warblers. At one point I think I hear a distant pygmy-owl, and see a stocky small brown bird fly, but it's far too brief a view to know for sure. By 11am I give up and return to San Cris, collect my gear from the hotel. I try calling a guide at Volcan Tacana that Jose-Raul recommended to me, but just leave a message. I email Tui and change some dollars to pesos, then catch a direct bus to Tonala in the Pacific lowlands.
Tonala is really hot and humid. I slog up the main drag towards the combi stand, when a Mexican DEA agent gives me a ride. We chat about this and that. I take the combi to Puerto Arista and survey the scrubby fields along the way. Puerto Arista is a run down seaside tourist village. I am eager to leave without drawing attention to myself. After buying water I walk 1km east of town, then take a track on the north side of the road to a patch of decent looking scrubby woodland. It's late afternoon, and I take it easy under the shade of a palm and prepare for tonight. Above me a caracara protests my presence. I try my Pacific screech-owl tape, which is really quiet, and curse myself for not figuring this out earlier.
Dusk falls and a big bright moon rises. I eventually get a single response, but no follow up and fail to find that owl. I hear at least two Ridgeway's pygmy owls calling in the distance. My rechargeable speaker craps out, and I am forced to switch to a less powerful AAA-powered unit. Now the tape is really quiet. Despite this, across the road I locate a singing pair of Pacific screech-owls! I get a great view of both birds. The song is a gruff, (but softer than Oaxacan screech,) series of six bouncing ball notes. These big screech owls have yellow eyes, gray-brown upper parts, limited black encircling the facial disk, obvious loose ear tufts, their legs are covered in bristles, the chest shows few markings, just a few long thin lines, the plumage is noticeably loose. Brilliant! What a relief It's a crap location with lots of barbed wire and only small patches of forest and lots of rough pasture.
Although it's 10pm, I am able to find a share taxi immediately Along the way to Tonala I see a big dark-backed barn owl perched on a fence post. It was a beautiful night. The radio plays melancholy music and everything is perfect. At the bus depot I catch sight of my self in the bathroom mirror. The barbed wire fences of Puerto Arista had gotten the better of me, my shirt was really torn up and I have dried blood all over my arms. I ditch my shirt and find some empenadas and horchata to recharge. I catch an 1155pm bus to Tapachala on the Guatemalan frontier.
April 23rd. I have amazing dreams on the bus. I arrive at Tapachala at 3am. I sleep at the terminal for a couple of hours. I take a cab to the combi terminal, and then take a combi to Union Juarez. Juarez is a hillside town set in shade coffee plantations. I ask around for a phone to call the guide at Volcan Tacana. Surprisingly there is no public phone, but I do get to stash my gear at a hotel by the plaza. At the next village I ask around for the guide who apparently lives here. A lady at the store calls his house but unfortunately he's not home, so I buy six liters of water and six packs of cookies and set off on foot to Chiquihuites. Fortunately after a mile a couple of public health workers pick me up in their car and take me the rest of the way. At Chiquihuites I find a small tienda. I ask if they could cook me breakfast. The owner kindly agrees, and memorably lights a fire with some sticks and a plastic Pepsi bottle. Acrid smoke from the burning bottle fills the tienda. I am served eggs, tortilla and beans. Sated, I set off up an obvious trail to Volcan Tacana.
According to Jose-Raul, unspotted saw-whet owl are easy at Papales, a refuge about halfway up the volcano. I tape for Guatemalan pygmy owl along the way. It takes about 3hrs to arrive at the signed refuge, where there is a small farm adjacent and I pay the farmer 10 pesos to use it. On arrival I feel pretty unwell so I decide to sleep until dark. I wake at 7pm and feel really rough, feverish and weak. I take a very short walk to check the trail and then return to the refuge and fall asleep. I briefly wake during a violent thunderstorm then again, later in the night to vomit copiously. The rest of the night is spent in a state of feverish sleep. The floor is hard and everything is sore and I feel terrible.
April 24th. At 7am I awaken to an incredible orange glow through the gaps in the refuge's walls. I open the shuttered window and see an amazing sunrise beneath me. The whole land is brilliant green, above the sky is glowing orange. I return to my sleeping bag, too sick to go out and look for pygmy-owls. I sleep on and off until 4pm and finally get up and drink a lot of water, take some Tylenol and Advil and eat a few cookies. As I come back to life, I take a few short walks on nearby trails. I try for the pygmy-owls but get no response. Pink-headed warblers are common here. The weather is cloudy and nearby I hear thunder. I'm concerned there will be another storm tonight that will ruin my chance at the saw-whets. I consider packing up and leaving, but decide to stay.
At dusk I begin climbing and taping for pygmy-owls. By 8pm I'm about 400 meters past the first house above Papales and it's quite dark. I start taping for the saw-whet. No response so I descend 100 meters down the trail. I think I hear something and descend another 100 meters and hear a clear song. I sit down before an open tree and begin to tape again. Nothing happens. I play again, nothing, then again. Something moves in the back of the tree and and I hear the sound of the owl's claws grasping a branch. I aim my light and there it is. My most wanted owl in Mexico! Beautiful. It's so small and is almost completely uniform chocolate above and orange buff below, has a bold facial disk around yellow eyes. It's hard to believe after those cold nights in Costa Rica and three nights of searching in Huitepec.
Now its time to go home. I walk back to the refuge, pack and hike quickly off the mountain. The trail is slick from the rain and I fall a lot. At the last patch of forest before I enter Chiquihuites I hear a pair of fulvous owls calling. I try to tape them out but they don't respond. In the village there is no one to ask for a ride so I walk on towards Union Juarez. 3 kilometers below Chiquihuites I hear another pair of fulvous owls which again don't respond to tape. Even though its a cloudy night a big moon makes for a bright hike. I find the hotel and retrieve my left possessions. I grab a room, wash my clothes and shower.
April 25th. Its a little after midnight when I finally get to sleep and just after 4am when I wake to catch the first combi. Its a fast ride down the mountain to Tapachula. The first direct bus to Oaxaca doesn't depart for 21 hours so I take a bus to Aaringa. From Aaringa I take a 2nd class bus to Juchitan. This bus is really shit, its slow hot and barely limps across the isthmus of Tehuantepec. It's mid-afternoon when I arrive in Juchitan, which is really hot and windy. I pick up my last bus to Oaxaca. Its a long winding ride through the mountains to Oaxaca. The last hour is under a beautiful full moon.
At Oaxaca I eat Tlayadas, a meat and salad grilled quesadilla. I find a decent hotel near the zocalo, then walk around and drink a couple of beers. The city is old and beautiful. At the zocalo there is an encampment of demonstrators fighting for the rights of indigenous people. People of all classes mill about, the poorest sleeping on park benches, while the more comfortable imbibe. It's a perfect night with the full moon, and so many people on the street. It seems like such a waste to sleep, but it's getting late and I have a long journey ahead.
April 26th. I get up early and take a cab to the airport. It's a lovely clear morning. The flight to Mexico City is great. I spend a few hours at the airport, then catch a flight to LAX. From LAX I catch an earlier flight than the one I was booked on and make my way home to Portland. What a brilliant trip.
