The number one perk of operating a bird tour company is actually birding.  In 2005 I personally led or co-led seven tours in North America, seven tours in Mexico, and four tours in Africa and Asia.  Altogether my groups saw in the neighborhood of 1500 species of birds.  More important than any of these statistics, however, are a handful of vignettes that will forever enrichen my life.

The year began in San Blas, Mexico.  One of the most satisfying moments for any guide is the ever-fleeting sense of mastery over the natural world.  The group was at La Tovara, the big spring that supplies most of the water for the people of San Blas.  It was just after dusk and the first Pauraques were wafting over the beautiful, 50-yard-long, crystal clear pool where La Tovara is born at the foot of a jungle-clad bluff.  I knew from many years of experience that a pair of Mottled Owls also likes to hunt the precincts of La Tovara.  One burst of calls from my iPod and both birds floated in to investigate.  The whole group was treated to fabulous views for at least 15 minutes until we finally had to begin the “Potoo Run” back down Canal La Tovara.  Some years we spotlight more than 20 Northern Potoos as we idle down the waterway.  In 2005 we saw only seven;  some of these, however, posed for us at less than 20 feet.  The happy chatter at our table an hour later at dinner was the best reward a guide could ever receive.

It’s always a gamble when you guide.  Wildlife, almost without exception, cannot be guaranteed.  In over 20 years of tours in Southeastern Arizona we’ve never missed the Elegant Trogon.  This is the bird everyone puts on the top of their wish list when they visit our area.  Some years we only see a few on a trip and some years we see a dozen.  As the author of a book on trogons, and as the fellow Audubon magazine once called “Arizona’s resident trogon expert,” I feel immense pressure to produce.  Fortunately, 2005 was generous with its trogons.  Our August group was treated to many wonderful views of adult males, multiple views of fledglings, and even a late nest with a chick being fed at the entrance to a sycamore cavity.  The young bird, brown headed and speckled over most of its body, clung to the wooden transom of the nest hole and gave poignant, bell-like little calls until the parent bird arrived in molten flash of emerald green and crimson red.  Then the adult was gone again and the silent chick gazed out on the world with a smug and vacuous expression on its over-stuffed mug.  That’s the sort of snapshot of bird behavior every guide wants everyone to see.

The same “Never-a-Guarantee” principle applies not only to other species of Arizona birds which we seldom, if ever, miss, but to the “target species” at all our other tour locales, as well.  In Alaska there are many charismatic species, but none inspires more passion than the pretty little Bluethroat.  Practically the only place in Alaska to see this Old World specialty is in the tundra surrounding Nome.  Here Bluethroats inhabit willow thickets—but not all willow thickets.  There are thousands of square miles of appropriate habitat on the Seward Peninsula.  Those thickets harboring Bluethroats that are road accessible on the 200-odd-mile-long Nome highway system are often separated by ten or more miles.  The problem is all willow thickets tend to look the same.  It’s the guide’s responsibility to lead groups to these comparatively rare Bluethroat territories.  Borderland hosted two groups at Nome in 2005.  With both groups we pulled up a singing male Bluethroat at the first thicket we tried.  Attached like a fancy ornament to the antenna of an antique roadster, I can still see the blazing red bullseye encircled in iridescent blue on the throat of the male Bluethroat as it flashed us from its willowtop perch.  When I turned to look at the group they were all beaming like children in a candy store.

Endemics are one reason people choose a guided trip.  Stake-outs are another.  Almost nothing brings more satisfaction to a guide than watching participant reactions when a stake-out for an endemic bird comes through.  The Sierra Madre accounts for the majority of the 88 species confined to Mexico, and the state of Oaxaca on the southern end of this mountain chain is particularly rich in endemic birds.  In 2005 I led our Grand Oaxaca group to a tiny field set like a pea in a forest of bromeliad-laden sacred fir and alder trees on Cerro San Felipe.  In the space of less than an hour we saw Gray-barred Wren, Russet Nightingale-Thrush, Black Robin, Aztec Thrush, Rufous-capped Brush-Finch, and Collared Towhee, all endemics, as well as many other near-endemics such as Gray Silky-Flycatcher and Black-headed Siskin that range farther south into Guatemala.  Aztec Thrush was one of our party’s single most-wanted bird.  His face glowed with pure pleasure as he told me it was the best hour of birding he’d ever experienced in Mexico.

There are few places in the world with more endemic birds than Madagascar.  In fact, five families of birds are found exclusively in Madagascar.  Our 2005 group found representatives of all all five of those families, and we even swept all six species of the difficult Ground-Roller tribe.  Aside from endemic birds, Madagascar is the home of the Lemur clan, the precursors to the primate family.  Unforgettable for me was having a small band of Indris, looking like so many black-and-white, somewhat lanky teddy bears, come bounding through the rain forest canopy right up to the group.  Two of the three-foot-tall Indris serenaded us with their ululating, whale-like songs.  A hush settled over the group.  Then the cameras began to talk back to the Indris as everyone tried to record this moment forever.

As I took photographs, too, it came to me that the best possible experience for anyone, including guides, is when wildlife approaches our species of its own volition, as unafraid and as curious about us as we are about them.

Dancing Sifaka Montage, Madagascar.  Photo by Marsha Steffen and Dave Semler.  All rights reserved.

Several dozen Verreaux’s Sifakas were seen in Berenty, Madagascar.  Marsha and Dave caught one “dancing” across the road by snapping eight photos per second on Dave’s digital camera.  While Dave held the camera at the ready, Marsha watched for a Sifaka about to dance across the road, capturing forever a magical moment in one amazing photo montage.

Borderland Photo Gallery

Perhaps you've noticed?  We have been adding a number of new features to our site, including photo galleries from each tour.  Below are a small sample of the images featured in the new web galleries.  Updating the Borderland web-site will be a continuing project for 2006.  Watch for sections with bird lists, client comments, articles of interest, and more.

Calliope Hummingbird, Arizona, by Bob Wenrick. All rights reserved.

African Pygmy-Kingfisher, South Africa, by Rick Taylor.  All rights reserved.

Muskoxen,  Alaska, by Rick Taylor. All rights reserved.
 

Shoebill, Uganda, by Adam Riley. All rights reserved.

 

Great Scope Views, Madagascar, by Rick Taylor. All rights reserved.

 

Green Iguana, San Blas, Mexico, by Sam Palmer. All rights reserved.
 

 Newsletter front cover photo:  Sickle-Billed Vanga, Madagascar, by Marsha Steffen & Dave Semler. All rights reserved.
 

Thailand—Feb. 22-Mar. 12
Bhutan—Apr. 18-May 7
Papua New Guinea—July 7-23
New Britain Extension—July 23-27
Argentina—September

I’ll always remember the evening we met in Panama, your endearing smile, your gracious & helpful manner.  All that wrapped up in a wonderful birder & botanist!  What a pleasure to travel with you!             

Charlie & Vickie at Poas Volcano
Photo by Barbara Bickel

Birding by Ear? Photo by Mark Garland. All rights reserved.