Tuesday, Dec. 23

 With due deference to Clement Moore or Major Henry Livingston.

‘Twas the night before Christmas, this year no blizzard,

Not a creature was stirring, especially not our lizard,

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

If you peek in them Molly, you’d better beware.

The family was nestled, all snug in their beds,

While visions of scrapple danced in their heads.

Lise in flannel, Molly back from the dorm,

Had all settled down, just like the norm.

I was just dropping off, then heard such a clatter,

Said a voice in my head “did any of it matter?

The year that’s past, it went by in a flash.

What did you do, and now where’s all the cash?”

I looked at the clock, its face all aglow.

The voice kept on saying, “I just have to know,”

When what to my wandering eyes should appear,

But a huge Visa bill, payment due, oh dear.

That nagging little voice, so lively and quick,

I needed a drink, Tullamore Dew, laid on thick.

More rapid than eagles, the expenses they came,

I whistled and shouted, they all caused me pain

Now passports, now visas, now taxis and rides.

On food, on tickets, on drivers and guides.

To remember each one, I just can’t quite recall,

now cash away, cash away, cash away all.

As dry leaves that before the hurricane fly,

The dollars they disappeared into the sky.

How can this be, is it just a bad dream?

I’m in trouble now, quick, Scottie the beam.

And then in a twinkling I thought the year through,

What was it, what was it, oh, what did I do?

Was it all worth it, what can I show?

Think, think, inquiring minds must know.

We did the Canal, what an engineering feat.

Round the world on water, now my goal I did meet.

The cruise was quite nice, though it came at a fee

But was worth every penny for the sights we did see.

The birds were all brilliant, red, green, and blue,

Monkeys and whales, little sea turtles too.

Walked on a lava field, still steaming and hot

We rode on a camel, sorry, Lawrence I‘m not.

“Sure, the cruise was great”, the voice was hissing,

But there has to be more, what are you missing?

In bits and snatches the memory grew,

It was Stefan and I, down to Peru we flew.

So much to do, we hit the ground running,

The cloud forest lush, Inca ruins were stunning.

We didn’t quite go native but we did try the food,

Llama and Guinea pig, lest we seem rude.

We did Machu Picchu, by the old Inca Trail.

Over Dead Woman’s Pass, not for the frail.

Small boat to the jungle, us and the freight.

After last winter, the heat was just great.

I sprang to my feet, with a shout and a holler

To the voice in my head, “it was worth every dollar”

We did the year good, we did the year right,

so happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Sunday, Dec. 21

After somewhat of a hiatus I finally got out for some birding yesterday. Sort of birding. I did the Capital Area Audubon Christmas Bird Count with Barb. This was the 115th year of Christmas Bird Counts. Prior to 1900, and for some time past then, there was a holiday tradition of indiscriminately killing as many birds as you could on Christmas Day. The person with the largest carcass pile won. Guess that made sense in 1900. Frank Chapman, an ornithologist, put forth the idea of counting instead of killing. So in 1900 the first 25 Christmas Birds Counts happened.

Fast forward to 2014. There are now something over 2300 Christmas Birds Counts. The idea is to count all the birds within a 15-mile diameter circle. The Capital Area Audubon count has been going on for decades, with a count circle centered on Lansing. For better or worse, the area within the count circle has changed considerably in the decades since the count’s inception. In Barb’s count area this means a lot of driving in subdivisions and trailer parks. Which is fine from the view of monitoring long term trends. It is what it is. From a birding perspective, however, it gets old counting house sparrows and starlings. But we did what we had to do and participated in the world’s largest and longest running citizen science program. That’s a lot better than sitting at home watching TV.

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Barb’s Christmas Bird Count territory. McMansions with no soul.

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Cemetery birding. With more life than a soulless subdivision.

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Did someone hang Santa in effigy?

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The only eagle we saw.

Tuesday, December 16

The semester is finally over. Grades are posted, I get to kick back, and my new camera came. Happy days.  

Teaching two classes as adjunct, in the same semester, while working full time, is bad. Teaching the two classes on very short notice is even worse. Taking 20 days in the middle of the semester for a Peru trip is right up there with invading Iraq. Just not something an intelligent person would do. But hey, I or my kids won’t get shot at. Wish I could say that. I’ve got a couple students that are cleaning their guns. They were surprised to find out that you actually need to do the assignments on time to get a good grade. I may need the witness protection program.

So now I can take care of other pressing demands on my time. Like Christmas cards and presents. Or that funding proposal I have to get written to stay employed next year. Or the report on our bat acoustic sampling. Which I really need to get done before Christmas. So, if anyone can help me interpret these graphs I would be obliged. One big spike means the varmints are swarming around before hibernating. That’s easy. Two big spikes a month apart don’t make my life easy. Did they invite some friends over for drinks?  A little nightcap before the big snooze? What the hell am I going to do with this?

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Number of nightly bat passes at our Cliffs site acoustic monitor. The blue are all bats. The red are the soon to be listed as endangered Northern long-eared bat. Possibly my meal ticket for the next year or two.

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Number of bat nightly passes at three different sites on the Hiawatha National Forest. Blue is the cliff site, red a cave site and the green some limestone outcroppings.

And to brag a little, Molly got a 4.0 in all her classes for her first semester at MSU. Two of them, calculus and organic chemistry, are something to brag about. We’re trying to figure out where these genes came from.

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Watch out Stephen Hawking, she’s coming for you.

Monday, December 1

We’re now in the time of the gray days. Yucky weather and gray, gray, gray. Too gray for much of anything else so I thought I would play with some pictures in shades of gray.

Cottonwood trees, Arivaca, AZ.

Cactus flowers, somewhere in AZ.

Fishhook cactus needles, somewhere in AZ.

Hosta leaves, backyard, Okemos, MI.

Laughing Whitefish Falls, Laughing Whitefish State Park, MI.

Moonrise over Arizona mountains, going down the highway in AZ.

Sand River trees, Sand River, MI.

Lake Superior shoreline, Sand River MI.

Lake Superior shoreline, MI.

Monday, November 24

OK, when it’s slow you screw with the lizard. Who knew that everyone’s favorite mutated reptile turned 60 this year. Godzilla, the star of 35 films, premiered in 1954.  So Fido and the gang threw the rascal a little 60th birthday party.

So here’s to that giant lizard with the halitosis that can take out a helicopter at 200 meters. Knock’em dead big guy. Have a few on us and shoot for 60 more. From Fido and the rest of the reptile world.

Monday, November 17

This past weekend was a birding/food fest kind of weekend. Friday night our friend Joanna came down from Marquette out of the first U.P blizzard of the year. Saturday morning we headed out for our ultimate goal; Jasper-Pulaski Fish and Wildlife Area in Indiana. Or JP as it’s known in birding circles.

First we hit Pokagon State Park for a quick visit with Fred at the nature center and a short hike. If you ever want to see some really fat squirrels check out the ones at Fred’s “bird” feeding area. These guys are in real need an exercise plan.

After Pokagon we drifted over to JP by way of the Indiana Amish area. Stopped for lunch in Middlebury at Das Essen Haus. It’s a huge Amish/Mennonite restaurant with a choice of buffet, family style, or menu dining. We opted out of the gorge yourself senseless options and went the menu route. Food was good and plenty of it. Desert was even more fun. Lise got shoe-fly pie and I had mincemeat pie. Made with mincemeat that actually had meat in it. Almost made me think I was back home. After the meal we finally waddled our way to JP for one of the big birding spectacles in the mid-west.

JP is a major stopover site for sandhill cranes. Something on the order of 90% of the eastern sandhill crane population passes through JP during the winter migration to the southeast. It’s possible to get 15,000 – 20,000 cranes there at one time. During the day they forage in the farm fields around JP and during the night they roost in a wetland on the property. At dawn and dusk they congregate in a 300-acre area called Goose Pasture. Imagine watching and listening to thousands of cranes at one time. This is moving. You would have to be a pretty hard core Republican to not appreciate this. People come pretty good distances to see it too. There were buses from Illinois and Minneapolis while we were there. Molly said that Lyman-Briggs, her MSU residential collage, was planning to run a trip.

Next on the agenda was Bartlett’s Gourmet Grill in Beverly Shores. Really small place with plain cement floors but great food. We got lucky because of the time change. We thought it was 6:00 but it was actually 5:00 there. So we didn’t have any wait. Right after us the place packed. Fun place to eat but I suspect the dinner rush hour would not be the time to come.

We stayed in the area Saturday night and hit Indiana Dunes State park in the morning. Always fun to walk through the area where Henry Cowles came up with the idea of ecological succession. After that we headed home with a lunch stop at Annie’s in New Buffalo and finished the day meeting friends at a new Mexican restaurant in East Lansing. Now it’s back to gruel to atone for our epicurean spree.

Good friends, good eating, good birding. Don’t get much better than that. Probably what the cranes are thinking too.

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Lots of cranes.

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Gear down, flaps down.

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A courtship or bonding dance.

Tuesday, Nov. 11

Veteran’s Day. Formerly Armistice Day, to commemorate the ending of WWI on the 11th hour, of the 11 day, of the 11th month.

Thanks to all who have served or are serving.

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Seaman Recruit Jerry Schools.

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Electricians Mate Third Class Jerry Schools.

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On liberty.

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What to do next?

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Some things don’t change. Thanks Dad.

Non sibi sed patriae

Monday, Nov 10

Been a really, really busy time so I haven’t had much time for writing. Teaching two classes pretty much soaks up every bit of free time. I’m looking forward to the end and I know the students are too.

Things are happening even though I can’t get out to enjoy them. The Detroit River Hawk Watch has reported 42,700 hawks migrating through since October 19. The single daily high count was 14,212 on October 22. That had to be fun time to be a spotter.

This past weekend Lise and I went down to Bloomington for a Sycamore Land Trust annual banquet. David Banks, a friend and the person that took over as board president after me, was the guest speaker. David now runs The Nature Conservancy’s Africa program. We had a great time and saw lots of old friends, both at the meeting and tooling around Bloomington.

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At the SLT annual banquet with Vicky M. (Cathy Meyer photo)

I used to really like Bloomington. Then they built a massive number of student apartments right downtown. Without bothering to provide parking for those apartments. So the City blanketed the area with parking meters to discourage students from having vehicles with no place to park them. I guess they want the students to spend their money there, but don’t want them to park there. Somehow I can’t help but feel that maybe the right way to do this would be to require a parking garage be built as part of the apartment complex.

The meters are particularly nasty in that they blink a red light when they are expired. The trolls they call meter readers just cruise around looking for blinking red lights. I’ll bet they really like their jobs too. Probably can’t get dates.

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Bloomington.  A fun place to visit, you just wouldn’t want to park there.

Sycamore Land Trust has done great since its founding in 1990. The organization has incredible community support. What started as a bunch of us getting together to start a land trust now has over 1,000 members and protects over 8,300 acres. The dinner we attended had over 300 attendees at the Bloomington Convention Center. A lot different than when we would have a picnic at someone’s house for our annual meeting.

Lise and I visited one of my favorite Sycamore Land Trust properties, the Beanblossum Bottoms. The bottoms are the floodplain of Beanblossom Creek. It’s a complex of mostly wetlands that have been acquired over time. One keystone parcel was the first property Sycamore bought. We were scared stiff but committed to raising and paying something like $50,000 over a five year period. We ended up raising the money in seven months and didn’t look back. Now there is upwards of 500 acres under protection of one form or another. Areas that were essentially failed corn fields when we started are now undergoing succession. Several Indiana threatened or endangered species resident there. Sycamore has about two miles of boardwalk going through the area. The really good news is the State of Indiana has named the Beanblossom corridor a Bicentennial Natural Corridor and has committed up to $1,000,000 in matching funds for further acquisition in the area. Not too shabby.

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Lise and Molly at the Beanblossom Bottoms Trout tract. March 1996. The area behind them is either sedge meadow, buttonbush swamp, or young trees.

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On the board walk. Two miles worth built by volunteers.

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Some black and whites from the bottoms.

Tuesday, October 28

So I want to do one final Peru blog. Mostly just to tie up some loose ends so this may be a bit disjointed.

Peru is an intriguing place. A lot of variety and contrasts in a relatively small area. Not just in terms of ecological diversity and variety, but social and economic contrasts too. So following are some general impressions and observations.

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Just in case you thought about smoking at the edge of a cliff.

The country is rich in terms of natural resources. There is a coastal area that produces fish, a mountainous area to produce potatoes and grains, and the jungle to produce fruits and beans. They have over 3,000 potato species, 55 corn or maize species, innumerable bean species, and dozens of native and cultivated jungle fruits. Enough to feed their own population and to export to the rest of the world. One guide complained that since quinoa has become a fashionable health food in the U.S., so much is exported that Peruvians can’t afford to buy it any more.

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Lowland jungle fruits in a local market.

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A few of the many varieties of potatoes, corn, and beans.

They also have some minerals like gold and silver and the tourism cash cow. But despite these resources, Peru is a poor third world country. The wealth just doesn’t seem to get to the general population. Lima and Cusco are large modern cities with flush toilets but there are a lot of isolated rural villages without basic amenities. In Agus Calientes, the tourist trap outside Machu Picchu, we watch laborers pushing construction materials and other supplies up a steep slope. Once they moved 30-foot re-bars with a wheelbarrow on each end and a set of wheels in the middle. Not a forklift or piece of mechanized equipment to be seen. So there is either a total lack of mechanized equipment or one really strong union.

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Stefan doing a selfie with Cusco in the background.

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A lowland village, usually cut off from the outside during the rainy season.

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The farm/village where we lunched first day on the Inca Trail.

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The nice church in the same village.

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 Hauling materials by hand.

One reason for the poverty has got to be corruption. Government corruption is legendary in Peru. We got to see some first hand. On an excursion to the Sacred Valley our guide was pulled over at a checkpoint. There was something not quite right with his papers and he got into a long discussion with the officer. After a while, the officer went to confer with his superiors and the guide said, “He wants a tip.” Our guide wouldn’t give him a tip, so he had to get out of the car and explain everything over again to each successively higher command level. After about 45 minutes he came back with some kind of a citation to take to yet a higher authority.

We were there just before a major election for national, regional, and local offices. Political posters were everywhere, even painted on the sides of mud brick homes. Interestingly, voting is mandatory in Peru. Something you would think is concerning to corrupt politicians. We met an American expat photo-journalist while waiting to fly out of the jungle. He was doing a story on illegal gold mining in the jungle and took only his old camera equipment in case the miners trashed it. He has been in Peru so long he was required to vote. When we were talking about the Inca Trail he said, “I did the trail. Thirty years ago when I was 30.”

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Political posters in a village.

Not unlike our worthless politicians, the Peruvian version goes to great lengths to justify their pathetic existence. Especially come election time. In one area they built bathrooms for everyone living in mud brick homes without a bathroom. But then, to let everyone know where the bathrooms came from, they painted them blue and white, the colors of the political party in power. Not the whole house, just the bathroom addition.

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Each little blue and white speck is a new bathroom.

Tourism is a major industry for Peru, probably only second to drugs. While we were bopping around the country, living the expat life, we would meet up with people we had met other places. We met a very elderly retired British ornithologist, and his “traveling companion” (his words) at the cloud forest lodge. We ran into them again over week later in the jungle lodge. With the help of a guide he had gotten over 400 bird species on his trip. Another Brit we talked to at Machu Picchu ended up on the same boat we were riding to the jungle lodges.

The Peruvian government sees tourism as a cash cow and wants to add another half million tourists per year within the next few years. That ain’t gonna happen unless they seriously improve the infrastructure. Especially the bathrooms and driving conditions. If you go to Peru, get a driver. You don’t drive there unless you have either nerves of steel or no reason to live. Or both, I guess. Rules for traffic flow, centerlines, right of way, passing, and general safety, are either nonexistent or known only to a select few. And they choose to ignore them if they do know them. Once our driver pulled over on the middle of a bridge for lunch because it was the shadiest place he could find. Never mind that it might block traffic and we were on the side facing traffic, I guess we were there first.

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The train just passed in front of the bus. No gate, no warning lights, nothing. Another bus just crossed the tracks right before the train. Lots of political signs though.

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Turning onto the two way street our hotel was located on.

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Parking on the bridge for lunch.

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Stefan and Elsie birding off the bridge

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The old single lane bridge our lunch bridge replaced.

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Driving in the rain. Notice the lack of space between the white truck oncoming on the left and the parked truck on the right.

As corrupt as it is, the government does keep limits on some tourist sites to protect them. Only 500 people a day are allowed on the Inca Trail. Stretched over 28 miles, 500 people isn’t too bad. We rarely ran into other hikers except at the designated campgrounds. And they eliminated pack animals after the last village. Supposedly to protect the trail but I think employing porters also figures in too. A couple thousand people at a time are allowed in Machu Picchu but it still seems able to swallow them up. When I commented that I wanted all the tourists out of my Machu Picchu pictures our guide, who was raised in a mountain village without electricity or running water and only spoke Quechan until he went into school, looked at me and said, “Photoshop.”

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Campground site on the Inca Trail. Different guide companies use different colors.

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The hordes of tourists waiting to get into Machu Picchu.

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Tourists cluttering up my picture.

Dogs – Loose dogs are ubiquitous in Peru. Busy Cusco intersections, dusty rural roads, parks and plazas, there are always dogs just laying around or hanging out. Sometimes even small packs of them. No apparent owners, but they’re always well behaved and they look like they’re well fed. There’s no obvious homeless population either so maybe there’s a correlation to well fed dogs. Interestingly, no piles of dog droppings lying around either.

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Dogs.

The coca plant was a scared plant to the Inca. The head Inca headdress contained coca leaves. Coca leaves have been used as an effective pain suppressant and medicinal for a long, long time. Even today, it’s everywhere, a constant in Peruvian culture. Peruvians are allowed to grow a hectare (2.5 acres) of coca. All hotels and restaurants serve coca tea. We used it on the trail. You fold up the leaves, kiss them while making a wish, offer it up to the gods, and then slip a pinch between your cheek and gums. Just like Copenhagen but it doesn’t cause cancer. International smuggler that I am, I brought back a granola bar made with coca leaves. That’s probably worth 30 years if it was up to the Republicans. I can just hear Nancy Reagan scolding me – “now be a good boy Ed, and just say no.”

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Coca plantation.

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The farmhouse. Doesn’t look like they’re getting rich from coca.

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Stefan and Jamie prepping a coca leaf offering at Dead Woman’s Pass.

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Putting the offering in the cairn.

Then came cocaine, a highly processed derivative of the coca leaf. Like Robin Williams said, “Cocaine is god’s way of saying you make too much money.” Peruvians have a hard time understanding the U.S. and European government’s hell bent desire to eradicate the coca plant. From a number of people it was, why eradicate a sacred and useful plant that we depend on. Cocaine use is your problem, not our problem. We don’t like the drug lords any more than you do. Why don’t you just stop your people from using cocaine and the drug lords and cocaine problem will go away.

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Coca granola bars – probably a gateway drug. Next thing you know I may try something truly deadly – like cancer causing tobacco supported with governmental agriculture subsidies that can be bought legally in any store.

If you go to Peru, guides are essential. Don’t even try to do Peru without guides. You will get a far better understanding of Peru that you just get can’t on your own. Our guides were all great. Turns out Peru has a specialized, university level, guide training program. Guides go through several years of general guide training, plus specialized training for the type of guiding they will be doing. Cultural guides are expected to be versed in the natural history. Natural history guides are versed in cultural interpretation. They’re all multilingual. So the guides hawking their services at the base of Machu Picchu are all trained and licensed.

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Stefan and our guide/driver Percy.

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Percy in a village.

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Stefan and Jamie our trail guide.

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Elsie, a great birding guide.

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Walter the driver with nerves of steel. I think he knew every truck driver on the road to the cloud forest lodge.

So to wrap things up, we were there long enough to get a feel for the country and the people. My general impression of the Peruvians is that they are proud of their country and their culture. They acknowledge imperfections, especially government corruption, but they’re proud. They’re proud to be Inca descendants. They’re proud of their ancestor’s accomplishments. And they’re proud of their current country, even with its flaws. I enjoyed the Peruvian people I met way more than some of the fat obnoxious tourists we encountered.  

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Peruvians.

When all is said and done, this was a fantastic trip. Lise knows someone that said something like “trips are best enjoyed in retrospect.” I’ve never believed that and this trip is a case in point. I loved every minute of it, even on the trail, huffing and puffing through the rain wearing a plastic poncho. Sure, we stayed in hotels and did tourist tours, and I liked that. But we were also out there, without the creature comforts. Places where a mistake could mean real problems. I haven’t felt like this since I was riding the aircraft carriers. This was one of those life changing events, for me at least. Floating down a river looking at European castles just isn’t my idea of a vacation anymore. I want to go where the wild things are.

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One of the wild things.

October 18, 2014

Seems like there is something I’m supposed to remember about this date. Oh yeah, Happy Birthday Molly.

So one more Peru installment. And probably one more wrap up after this one.

In terms of bio-geography, Peru is a pretty amazing place. It’s larger than Texas, smaller than Alaska, but packed with different ecoregions and habitat types. It’s split by the Andes Mountains so it has a number of very different ecoregions within a relatively small area. In addition to differences because of elevation, there are some rain shadow effects between the east and west side of the Andes. So at any given elevation there are different suites of species between the eastern and western slopes. Then throw in a Pacific coastline and the Amazon lowlands for good measure. The “Birds of Peru” field guide mentions 21 habitat types, with one of them being army ants. This is the first time I’ve seen a species listed as a habitat type. Granted I’ve seen some people large enough to create a rain shadow and could be considered be a habitat type.

 

The Andes – glaciated mountains.

Cloud forest.

Cloud forest interior.

Semi-arid mountains.

Mountain wetlands and lakes.

Jungle lowlands. This is a tributary of the Amazon. Our birding guide grew up in a four family village on the banks of this river not far from this spot.

Jungle canopy. The tall tree is a Brazil nut tree.

Jungle canopy.

Jungle interior.

What it all boils down to is a tremendous amount of flora and faunal diversity in a fairly small area. There are about 700 bird species in North America north of the Rio Grande. Peru, a little larger than Texas, has about 1800 bird species. The “Birds of Peru” weighs three pounds. It’s about the size and weight of a good sized block of scrapple.

Between us we got 168 bird species. I still need to reconcile the list. There may be a couple Stefan got that I did not and vice-versus. Not all were lifers either, since some species are also present in North America. Still, not a bad number considering birding was only part of what we were doing. We met two different couples on dedicated birding trips that had gotten over 400 species.

We were lucky in that we had Elsie, a great birding guide, for the cloud forest portion of the trip. This wasn’t just a job for her. She was as excited as we were with the species we found, and she got three lifers while she was with us. I believe her life list is somewhere over 600 species, just in Peru. Jaime, our Inca Trail guide, and Edar, our jungle guide, were good with the birds but not as good as Elsie.

Walter, our driver with nerves of steel (or no reason to live) and Elsi, bird guide and general naturalist extraordinaire.

So all the ecoregions and different habitat types lead to some specialized species. Like the description for the chesnut-naped antpitta: Common, but restricted to humid montane forests, on east side of northern Andes, north and west of Rio Maranon, between 2200 and 2950 meters. That’s 2950 meters mind you, not 2951.

American kestrel at the Saqsayhuaman ruins.

Andean pootoo doing what pootoos do.

Black-faced ibis.

 Cock-of-the-rock – Peru’s national bird.

Golden tanager.

Golden-headed quetzal.

Great pootoo, doing what pootoos do.

Highland motmot.

Hoatzin. This is a missing link bird. The young resemble reptiles and have claws on their wings. They nest over water. If the young are threatened, they drop into the water, then crawl back into the nests using their claws. Eventually the claws fade away.

Group of hoatzin.

Hummingbird (unknown species) on nest. Night photo.

Macaws.

Macaws.

Macaws and parrots. They eat the clay for minerals. Turns out that clay is the primary food for young birds. These very clay licks were featured in National Geographic. Their photographer had a big lens.

Macaws and several species of parrots.

Russet-backed oropendola.

Russet-backed oropendola.

Russet-backed oropendola nests. Most of them are dummy nests to fool predators.

Puna ibis.

Scarlet-bellied mountain tanager.

Rufescent tiger-heron.

Sparkling violetear.

We saw other cool things too. Like capybara – the world’s largest rodent. And the tayra – a large terrestrial relative of the otter. There were several species of monkeys including howler monkeys. They make an unearthly sound that seems impossible for a primate. During one night hike we had a bunch of very unhappy peccaries around us. We never saw them but they were really close by, snorting and grunting their general displeasure with our presence. We had seen some during the day but they pretty much stayed away from us. At night they made it quite clear we were on their turf and they did not want us there. Going back down river we saw endangered bush dogs. Even the boat guide had never seen them before and made the boat turn around to get a better look.

Chinchilla chillin’ at Machu Picchu.

Tayra – relative of the otter.

Capybara – the world’s largest rodent. With a lot more meat than a Guinea pig.

Rare bush dogs. Not a great picture – hand held on a moving boat in low light.

Lots of other cool things too. Like butterflies, turtles, lizards, frogs, dragonflies, and all kinds of interesting things that go bump in the night. Including J.R.R. Tolkien’s inspiration for Shelob. And there’s a whole lot more to be seen. I really need another trip back there. With a really big lens.

Unknown butterflies. While we were birding in the cloud forest there was a group collecting butterflies.

Another unknown butterfly.

 Amazon racerunner.

Amazon racerunner.

A picture of Fido so she doesn’t get jealous. You’ll never see the term “racerunner” associated with her.

Clear winged butterfly.

Clear winged butterfly.

Unknown dragonfly.

Unknown dragonfly.

Unknown dragonfly.

And now, the things that go bump in the night. The following are all nighttime shots.You really don’t want to mess with anything that is out and about at night in the jungle or cloud forest.

Caiman

A beautiful caterpillar that is probably poisonous.

A very spiky caterpillar that is almost certainly poisonous.

A Scorpion eating a beetle. I’m pretty sure the Scorpion is poisonous.

Scorpion spider. Don’t know if it is poisonous but I wasn’t about to find out.

A beetle with eyespots that glowed in the dark. Don’t know anything about toxicity.

A cool grasshopper with super long antennae. Probably not poisonous but best to be careful.

A butterfly we found at night. Unknown toxicity.

Unknown bug but very cool. Unknown toxicity.

Another unknown bug with Stefan’s finger as a reference. Usual toxicity rules apply.

Walking stick species 1. Probably not poisonous but I’m not going to mess with it.

Walking stick species 2. Probably not poisonous but I’m not going to mess with it.

Walking stick species 3. Probably not poisonous but I’m not going to mess with it.

A frog that hides by looking like the leaf litter. Possibly poisonous but at least it’s a cool frog.

Same frog.

Unknown frog. Possibly poisonous but at least it’s a cool frog.

Unknown frog. Possibly poisonous but at least it’s a cool frog.

Unknown frog. Possibly poisonous but at least it’s a cool frog.

Unknown frog. Possibly poisonous but at least it’s a cool frog.

Shelob. Need I say more?

Oh, yeah, plants. Didn’t have much time to do plants. Did I mention that I really need another trip back there. Properly outfitted with appropriate camera gear. Like a big lens.

Black orchid. I believe this only grows in a part of the cloud forest the Inca Trail goes through.

Tiger orchid. Another Inca Trail cloud forest species.

Tiger orchid.

Unknown flower.

A jungle flower. I think it’s called parrot’s beak or something like that.

A fern.