Veracruz

VERACRUZ:  RIVER OF RAPTORS SEPTEMBER 28-OCTOBER 9, 2006 Mexican Sheartail, Canivet’s Emerald, and Other Tales of the Cardel Lowlands On the morning of September 29, 2006 the phenomenon of déjà vu was very much on my mind. I remembered that our departure from Veracruz City the year before had also been accompanied by rain.  Most will recall that autumn 2005 was the worst hurricane season on record.  While these storms never achieved hurricane force in Veracruz, our 2005 group faced the same weather events that were devastating the southeastern U.S.  Aside from the necessity of driving through flooded boulevards and dodging downpours, in 2005 the storms also delayed or detoured the huge flights of raptors and passerines that make fall in Veracruz, Mexico a birder’s paradise. But in 2006 things were different.  The shower backed away as daybreak ignited the clouds over the Gulf, and rain-cooled air greeted us as we left the van.  We were at Playa Chalchihuecan, just 20 miles north of Veracruz City, and bird activity began with a pair of migrating Eastern Kingbirds perched on top of a big acacia tree.  They were swiftly replaced by a flock of Altamira Orioles.  Loudly smacking Black-headed Saltators soon appeared, and an endemic male Mexican Sheartail took a nearby perch to sortie out for errant gnats.  This was worthy of multiple scope views.  Mexican Sheartails only occur in this small area of central Veracruz, and are otherwise confined to a narrow crescent around the northern rim of the Yucatan Peninsula.    A pair of Merlins shot through, the first of 25 species of raptors we would record on the tour, and a family group of four Rose-throated Becards began to dance around in excitement.  Soon a pair of Ferruginous Pygmy-Owls were in the scopes, followed by a pair of Band-backed Wrens.  Three Muscovy Ducks zoomed overhead.  Meanwhile an adult male Canivet’s Emerald began to work some red flowers literally at our feet, its deeply cleft tail nearly as long as the Sheartail’s.  Folks were seeing new birds in all directions. We checked into the Hotel Bienvenido in Cardel late in the morning.  The Hotel Bienvenido is what I always think of as a “dowager hotel,” an older facility that serves as the “Grand Hotel” for its town.  While distinctly worn, every room does have an air conditioner, a television, and a shower with lots of hot water.  More important, the Hotel Bienvenido is the principal Pronatura Hawk Watch site.  After depositing our gear in our rooms on the third floor, we ascended the stairs to the roof of the fifth floor—which serves as the observation deck.  There were at least 20 other birders already there, and everyone was watching streams of Broad-tailed Hawks numbering in the thousands.  There were also a few Mississippi Kites, Swainson’s Hawks, and Common Black-Hawks mixed into the “River of Raptors,” and flocks of hundreds of Wood Storks.  Someone announced a Peregrine Falcon perched on a nearby tower.  While I scoped this bird for our group, another Peregrine circled overhead a mere 50 feet above us. After a wonderful lunch—everyone loved the Bienvenido Restaurant—a short siesta, and some more desultory hawk-watching from the roof, we drove about 5 miles back to Antigua to take an afternoon boat ride.  A quick stop to look at the fig-overgrown ruins of Cortez’s house, theoretically the oldest European structure in the Western Hemisphere, yielded a male Lineated Woodpecker, both Blue-gray and Yellow-winged Tanagers, and several Black-crowned Night-Herons comfortably sequestered on day roosts. A Buff-bellied Hummingbird industriously pistoning nourishment into the open gape of a new fledgling awaited us at the boat launch, and then it was down the broad Rio Antigua, where species such as Long-billed Curlews, Sandwich Terns, Black Skimmers, and Ringed Kingfishers helped usher out the close of the day. As we did our checklist over dinner that evening, it became apparent that, without even pushing, we had seen 110-plus species of birds our first day in Veracruz! The Veracruz tour is basically divided into three parts.  It begins with the comparatively dry thorn scrub in the lowlands surrounding Cardel, climbs up to the pine-oak woodlands and cloud forests mantling the Xalapa highlands, and then follows the arc of the Gulf of Mexico east to Catemaco in the Sierra de los Tuxtlas.  This isolated mountain range represents the northernmost true rain forest in Mexico.   There were avian highlights in every section of the tour. In the lowlands we found the endemic race of Rufous-naped Wren, a form which, unlike all other subspecies by that name, has a spotted chest.  Using a home-made recording of its calls (now digitalized and transferred to my iPod), we were able to pull a flock to within 25’.  Much to my surprise, at the same locale we detected a Lesser Roadrunner.  Sure enough, there is a dot on the map in Howell and Webb’s excellent field guide for Mexico, indicating a previous record, but there is no mention of Veracruz in Howell’s text.  Like the Rufous-naped Wren, Lesser Roadrunner is a species whose western Mexican distribution is otherwise limited to the Pacific lowlands and interior valleys.  Meanwhile a flock of huge White-collared Swifts—their wingspread is almost two feet--circled in the valley below us, affording us superb views. Transitioning from Cardel to Xalapa we birded the magical foothill realm at Rancho el Mirador.  The first birds we found in the upper coffee finca area were Keel-billed Toucans.  They were swiftly followed by Golden-crowned Warbler, Wedge-tailed Sabrewing, Banaquit, Violaceous Trogon, Olivaceous Woodcreeper, Blue-crowned Motmot, Common Bush-Tanager, and a pair of Elegant Euphonias.  Towards the end of the morning we encountered a number of Blue Morpho butterflies, and—incredibly—one spread its wings in all their shimmering iridescence as it perched on a tree fern.  It was the first time in three decades of prowling the tropics that I actually managed to get a photo of a Blue Morpho with its wings wide open!   The Rancho served us perhaps the best lunch of the entire tour:  both pork and vegetarian tamales steamed in banana leaves, along with specially seasoned, incredibly succulent chicken, followed by their home-made, shade-grown coffee.  Delicious!  The meal on the porch of the century-old hacienda at Rancho el Mirador is one of the true highlights of any visit to Veracruz. Observations of a Bat Falcon and a pair of Aplomados (we would see no fewer than 11 Aplomado Falcons this trip) on the way from the Rancho to Xalapa were only a prologue to things to come.  At our final stop of the day a flight of thousands of Broad-wings streamed by low overhead, catching the butterscotch light of late afternoon on their underparts. Part II:  Red Warblers (5!) of the Xalapa Highlands Once again we were off before sunrise, this time to Las Minas, a site about 8,000’ in elevation. In the next two hours we pulled off another first for me, and for everyone else as well:  we saw all three species of the former “Solitary Vireo” complex at one location in one day.  The first was a Cassin’s Vireo in a small grove of deciduous trees isolated by fields near the beginning of the Las Minas Road.  About two miles later we had a textbook Plumbeous Vireo in a pine plantation area, also next to the road.  The Blue-headed Vireo in a pocket of cloud forest near the roadside shrine above 2000-feet-deep Barranca Las Minas completed our sweep.  It was another example of what I think of as the “Veracruz Effect,”  whereby birds typical of the Pacific coast and the western Sierra Madre wind up putting in an appearance on the Gulf slope of Veracruz. Moments after we saw the Blue-headed Vireo, a Red Warbler pirouetted into an opening in the roadside brush and performed a solo for the next few minutes.  Everyone was ecstatic.  For one member of our group, it was his single most wanted species.  At least for Las Minas that day, we saw it just in time.  In 2006 Veracruz City was the site of an international congress of professional ornithologists.  Over 1600 scientists were participating, and nearly all them were taking a variety of field trips.  Soon after we saw the Red Warbler we were joined by a rag-tag band of at least 50 other birders on the prowl.   I pulled out my walkie-talkie and called Jorge Herrera, our van driver, who was patiently waiting several hundred yards back.  It was time to move on.   Now a mile farther down the road at Las Minas we got lucky indeed.  Carol Eagle found a tiny rattlesnake asleep in a coil that was no bigger than my hand.  After numerous photographs, we left the diminutive viper undisturbed and unidentified.  Since returning, however, it seems clear from photos that it belonged to the genus Sistrurus, or Massasauga.   A switchback farther along and at least two--and possibly three--critically endangered Buff-throated Wood-Partridges exploded into rollicking vocalizations within 100’ on either side of us.  While we never saw these birds, they may have been the rarest species we encountered on the entire tour.  Other observations at Las Minas included a scope view showing the chestnut wings of a female Garnet-throated Hummingbird, 4 or 5 tiny Bumblebee Hummingbirds, an endemic Strickland’s Woodpecker, a loudly yowling Chestnut-sided Shrike-Vireo, heard but not seen, and a pair of scarlet-chested male Mountain Trogons.  Oddly, moments before we saw the trogons, we had a complacent Yellow-billed Cuckoo foraging among the bromeliad-laden, road-edge oaks.  And that was at 8,000’.   Higher yet, at an elevation of 10,000’ on Cofre de Perote, we saw a group of eight endemic Striped Sparrows, as well as a gorgeous Collared Towhee, also endemic, and a flock of Black-headed Siskins.  Here, too, another Red Warbler foraged in an open field, occasionally even dropping to the ground, probably snapping up small insects too small for our eyes to see. The next day, after a leisurely breakfast at the hotel, we birded the flanks of an extinct volcanco at the bottom edge of the cloud forest at Parque Macuiltepetl.  Macuiltepetl, a Totonac word meaning “Hill of Six Peaks.” is a large and tranquil municipal oasis completely surrounded by the city of Xalapa,  Butterflies were a constant distraction, but here, too, there were specialties.  Among the 50 or so species recorded on our half-mile stroll were Berylline Hummingbird, Green Jay, Blue Mockingbird, and White-naped Brush-Finch.  A second Yellow-billed Cuckoo at Macuiltepetl led me to believe that we had intercepted a small wave of this species.  Nearby La Joya—where we ate a quiet picnic lunch--produced an endemic Russet Nightingale-Thrush and another three Red Warblers.  Afterwards we finished off the day with a visit to Xalapa’s famous Museum of Anthropogy.  The collection of colossal Olmec heads here, as well as the thousands of other beautifully preserved and curated pre-Columbian artifacts, could not fail but impress. Part III:  Of Pinnated Bitterns and a Plain-breasted Brush-Finch The longest drive of the entire tour connects Veracruz City with Catemaco in the Sierra de los Tuxtlas.  While the distance is not great, less than 150 miles on a good highway, birds present a serious distraction. A pilgrimage to Las Barrancas just 45 minutes east of Veracruz is obligatory.  This is an area of wet savannah interrupted by marshes, ponds, and the occasional island of shrubby woodland.  Munching down on one of Jorge’s picnic breakfasts, complete with hot coffee and tea, we counted 10 Double-striped Thick-knees in a single pasture.  Our first Pinnated Bittern put an end to that breakfast.  It was peering at us from an area of sedge.  Abruptly it withdrew its head and the whole bird—basically the size of an American Bittern—disappeared.  Not to worry.  A second Pinnated Bittern was across the road from the first when we eventually moved on, and this one lingered long enough for photographs.   We spent the whole morning working just five miles of the Las Barrancas Road.  Goodies were abundant.  Some of these included Lesser Yellow-headed Vulture, a male Northern Bobwhite of the orange-bellied subspecies graysoni, a family of Purple Gallinules, a male Northern Jacana and his three fluffy chicks (male jacanas tend the nest and rear the young), Plain-breasted Ground-Dove, Common Tody-Flycatcher, Fork-tailed Flycatcher, and a male Canada Warbler that foraged in just one tree for at least 10 minutes.  Returning to the highway we were delayed by an American Bittern that cautiously slunk towards the group until it finally dematerialized into the sedges only 25’ from our position. A drowsy, contented silence hung over the van as we sped eastwards--until the silhouette of the Sierra de los Tuxtlas loomed up on the horizon.  Then the myriad possibilities and probabilities dominated the conversation.  But clouds shrouded the 5,000’ high volcanoes, and as we passed through the twin cities of Santiago Tuxtla and San Andres Tuxtla it began to mist on the windshield.  I experienced a twinge of  paranoia.  Once again memories resurfaced of the deluges of 2005.  We arrived at Catemaco in time for some relaxed birding on the manicured grounds of our hotel.  While there were no surprises, it was fun to see old pals like Roadside Hawk, Ferruginous Pygmy-Owl, Ringed Kingfisher, and Montezuma Oropendola just outside our doors.  The rain was so diaphanous it didn’t even get our binoculars wet. The rain the next morning was not diaphanous.  It was pouring when we arrived at the tropical research station of the Universidad Nacional Autónomo de México, or UNAM as it’s commonly known.  Rain in a rain forest, of course, is always a possibility.  Within a half-hour after our arrival it began to clear, and we were able to salvage most of the day.  Of course, after the rain let up the birds began to move, and, in fact, the rain probably helped us.   Plain Xenops has long been a favorite of mine and it was one of the first species we saw.  The dapper pair of Olive-backed Euphonias nearby were the first of the three euphonia species we recorded at UNAM, along with congeneric Yellow-throated and Scrub.  Others birds included Red-throated and Red-crowned Ant-Tanagers, a quick look at a Black-throated Shrike-Tanager, Streaked-headed and Olivaceous Woodcreepers, and the White-breasted Wood-Wrens that would be omnipresent our entire visit.  Short treks up forest tracks gave us Violet Sabrewing, weightwise, the largest hummingbird in Mexico, and an endemic Long-tailed Sabrewing, one of the longest.  The longest of all at approximately 7” is the Western Long-tailed Hermit, almost half of which is the two central feathers of its elegant, white-tipped tail.  There were several of these.  Here, too, Hooded Warblers were common, and there was even a male Kentucky Warbler that gave everyone a great look. It showered again over lunch, and as the rain subsided we spotted a group of Collared Aracaris drying in the watery sunlight filtering down on a tall treetop.  Nearby a family of Mantled Howler Monkeys began to roar.  Before long we were watching them watch us.   After a tranquil hotel breakfast, we headed over to Laguna Sontecomapan the next morning for the boat trip we had arranged on the previous afternoon.  Only stopping once for a three-foot-long Green Iguana, we boated across the Laguna Sontecomapan and birded one of its major tributary rivers.  Upon entering, a Mangrove Cuckoo flew across the channel.  Some of the birds that followed included Yellow-tailed Oriole, Violaceous Trogon, Violet Sabrewing, Olive-throated Parakeet, Red-lored Parrot, Barred Ant-Shrike, Black-headed Trogon, and Bare-throated Tiger-Heron.  Common Black-Hawks were definitely common, but the raptor that wowed us most was a Gray-headed Kite.  This widespread but rarely seen predator was perched in profile on a treetop well back from the river.  Half-again larger than any other kite species, it was definitely a charismatic bird.  Three hours after we set out we finished with another impressive raptor.  This time it was a juvenile Collared Forest-Falcon.  Perhaps recently fed by its parents, it seemed reluctant to move and we were able to watch it for several minutes.  With the addition of the Collared Forest-Falcon, I realized we had seen eight species of the nine falcons possible in the state of Veracruz.   That evening we returned to UNAM to try for tropical owls.  The first was easy.  A Spectacled Owl flew into us as I was fiddling with my iPod--before I could even play a single note.  Fortunately my Q-beam was at hand, and we enjoyed an excellent view of this strikingly-patterned, tiger-eyed beauty.  Then, as abruptly as it had appeared, it suddenly disappeared into the darkness. By now Pauraques were playing leap-frog on the cobble drive in front of the station.  After scoping them, it was time to try for the Black-ad-white Owl that we had seen here in 2005.  It took a full half-hour, but we found it!  Unlike most owls, the eyes of the Black-and-white glowed like hot coals in the beam of the spotlight.  Between the Black-and-white Owl and the Spectacled Owl it was a toss-up for which really was the most stunning.   Our last destination before returning to Veracruz was the cloud forest above 3,000’ on the upper slopes of the Sierra de los Tuxtlas.  Flocks of Red-billed Pigeons were rocketing past and Vaux’s Swifts were swirling overhead at our first stop the final morning.  Not long afterwards the sneezy calls of a Rufous-breasted Spinetail reverberated from a dense thicket.  It took some persistence, but in the end everyone had fine views of this regional endemic.  Then John Collins called out another bird-of-prey.  Glancing up I saw the pinched-in wingbases and long banded tail of a big black raptor I’ve grown to know well.  Moments later it banked and then soared away, and we watched with eyes agog until the Black Hawk-Eagle was swallowed by the distance. A few more bends and the road entered a Tolkieneque forest of giant gnarled trees draped with philodendrons and air plants.   I could practically smell the trogons.  A minute after I started playing their calls a pair of Collared Trogons began answering.  Jorge was waving for us to come quick.  Before we could reach him the male somehow slipped out of sight, but we had a fine scope study of the orange-breasted female.  An Ivory-billed Woodcreeper was audible in the background of the Collared Trogon recording, and sure enough, an Ivory-billed came in before we all even had a chance to cycle through the scope.  Here, too, was a flock of Common Bush-Tanagers, and a mixed flock of wintering warblers.  It was hard to rip our eyes off the brilliant male Blue-winged Warbler in particular, but there was yet another distraction.   Small and stout, a Scaly-throated Foliage-gleaner posed on a limb directly over the road. Our final cloud forest bird came as were finishing up our picnic lunch.  We were watching another flock of Common Bush-Tanagers and the wonderfully invigorating cool air was filled with their thin, high-pitched calls when I finally noticed that some of their hypersonic squeals seemed to emanate from the ground near my feet.  Less than 10’ away I saw the shadowy form of a bird I knew had to be a Chestnut-capped Brush-Finch.  But this would be no ordinary Chestnut-capped Brush-Finch.  In the Sierra de los Tuxtlas there exists a form that lacks the black chest band and the tawny supercilium of all other races south to Peru.  It is called the “Plain-breasted Brush-Finch.”  It took another 15 minutes, but once again everyone got stonking good views of this rarely seen race. Time had run out for us.  As Jorge piloted the van safely back towards Veracruz City I mentally reviewed some of the things we had seen.  There were Totonac ruins, Olmec heads, colonial era buildings, a 100-year-old hacienda, and a modern museum,  There were beaches, wetlands, patches of dry thorn scrub, rain forest, cloud forest, and deep barrancas rimmed with pine.  Above all I remembered the crystalline morning we had seen snow-clad, 18,401’ high Pico Orizaba, the highest point in Mexico, looming on the horizon like a vision. There were myriad butterflies, loafing iguanas, and even a troop of monkeys.  And, of course, there were birds.  Altogether we had seen 304 species in 10 days in the field.  Thirteen of those species were confined exclusively to Mexico.  Thinking it over I knew Veracruz was a trip none of us would ever forget. --Rick Taylor