We pulled out of the splendid Guango Lodge by 10am on 15.11.16, and dropped down the Amazon side of the Andes through an infinity of hairpin bends above dizzying drops to the Rio Quijos far below.
As we got closer to Baeza the river was progressively tamed by a shiny new expensive looking hydro-electric system.
Feeling somewhat “Guango Unchained” (sorry) we were looking to the east as the snow-capped massif of Antisana receded behind the waves of lesser Andean cloud forest ridges in the rear view mirror.
Huge cloud systems so typical of low-lying tropical areas bubbled up in front of us as llama grazed by the side of the road and the tarmac fell away with alarming frequency, revealing rubble-strewn scree slopes and stretches of the highway where a solid surface was little more than ancient history commemorated by tattered hazard tape.
Cheerio Antisana
There’s an awful lot of tattered hazard tape around here – but I bet there’s considerably more mangled auto-wreckage hidden in the ravines below by the fecund vegetation.
Oh look, another set of little crosses by the road….
It should be said, yet again, that Trops did sterling work behind the wheel on exciting and challenging roads.
It was a bit of a travel day, but once we’d managed to miss the hummingbird garden in Baeza with our usual ineptitude, all we had to do was fuel up and motor towards the Loreto Road.
Low opinions of Baeza plunged even further at the gas station, where I encountered these jokers by the pumps…
I travel thousands of miles, stomp up the Andes, stake-out antpittas at dawn, poke Opossums and brush through countless creepy crawlies in miles of cloud forest and still there are sodding clowns???!!??
Noooooo!!!!
I don’t think local law enforcement quite understood my clown-related breakdown, so we got out of Dodge fast, but for those who don’t know me, I should perhaps explain that Hell will freeze over epochs before I have a good word to say about a clown.
Basteds.
Ahem, sorry about that, anyway we drove on sometimes on tarmac, sometimes on the lovable bouncy Ecuadorian mix of gravel and potholes, until we detoured into Cabanas San Isidro.
One of Ecuador’s most famous birding sites, the stifling heat of the approaching lowlands hit us as we stumbled out of the Toyota.
Even at 2,000m it was very, very hot.
We met the splendid manager Alesandro who showed us around while we gathered gen and enjoyed a coffee, trying not to be too distracted by the Gorgeted Woodstars and Bronzy Incas at his hummer feeders – both welcome trip ticks.
Female Gorgeted Woodstar (with Fawn Breasted Brilliant)
San Isidro has many charms – nailed on White Breasted Antpitta if you can get yourself to the 0730 daily feeding time, the metaphysical, and somewhat unimaginatively named “San Isidro Owl” and what I can only imagine is stunning customer service, but it was a bit out of our range, and once we’d snagged the two target hummers, we made our excuses and left.
Excellent as Alesandro’s hospitality and coffee was, we had many miles to go.
Following the Loreto Road we aimed for the Comedor Susanita restaurant beside the famous Cascada Hollin, and having paid our buck settled in Susanita’s equally famous hummingbird garden as the lightning that was such a feature of afternoons in the east flashed silently beyond the tree canopy and the sky started getting angry.
Napo Sabrewing
Golden Tailed Sapphire
The feeders were exceptional with stunning species just inches away from us as we sat under a corrugated shelter which soon began to sing with the first big drops of an Amazonian rain shower.
The downpour was the first of many, but what hummers – Napo Sabrewing, Fork Tailed Woodnymph, Green Hermit, Sparkling Violetear, Many Spotted Hummingbird, Golden Tailed Sapphire and Violet Headed Hummingbird.
Phew!
And the waterfall in her back garden and stacks of butterflies everywhere weren’t bad either.
Gotta love a Figure of Eighty.
Another dollar very well spent, but by 2pm the rain was bouncing off everything and it was time to go.
Raindrops morphed into steam as soon as they hit the asphalt in the high humidity and we retraced our route down the Loreto Road, pausing to admire a colony of frankly brilliant Cliff Flycatchers by the famous “great big quarry” site.
You can’t miss ’em – if they’re not perching on overhead wires, they’re fluttering around the old quarry cliff faces flashing their rufous wing feathers like demented Wallcreepers.
Marvellous.
Cliff Flycatcher
The cloud forest here looked enticing, with a fine Yellow Throated Tanager by the roadside, Silver Beaked Tanager and Cinnamon Flycatcher.
Trops managed a sneaky Rufous Breasted Woodquail while we dried our optics off and chowed down on a massive packed lunch courtesy of the Guango Lodge kitchen.
Not to be outdone, Mike scored a Deep Blue Flowerpiercer on the wooded slope above us, while June and I said howdy to the local Leafcutter Ants.
It was time to get moving again, and as the rain fell we whizzed south, just about managing to avoid the traffic hell of Tena, although one 4×4 driver seemed determined to wipe out an entire family on their moped even on the quieter by-pass in the Amazonian deluge.
The psycho failed and fishtailed away in the rain.
The family were shocked yet unscathed, but it left a nasty taste in the mouth as we headed further from the mountains, finally arriving in the burg of Misahualli and the wonderful Banana Lodge by dusk at 6.15pm.
After owners Anna and Eduardo showed us to our rooms and we cranked up the ceiling fan to warp 50, the only thing to do was head into town, score mucho Pilsener and plan our assault on the lowlands in the stifling heat….
Absolutely “Welcome to the Jungle”…
Birding Ecuador 2016 