It’s like being  a kid (or someone who has no control over sweet-tooth impulses) in a candy store. Just as my three year old daughter exclaims with the firm held belief and desire that, “THIS IS FOR MIRANDA!” upon seeing any number of  objects carefully designed to appeal to young girls as we happen to trudge through the aisles of a toy store, birders visiting Costa Rica for the first, second, or third time think, “I NEED TO SEE THAT BIRD!”  when they peruse the pages of the field guide. The two situations are similar in that both parties feel a yearning need to experience the object in question, but whereas Miranda has to have a My Little Pony, a Barbie Princess, or any other number of things that have been painstakingly designed to appeal to a immature humans, birders “need” to see  and hear birds that have evolved charismatic adaptations and characteristics that are simply magical to behold.

What better way to describe seeing a Three-wattled Bellbird in action as it lets out a sonorous “BONK!” from a bill flanked by worm-like appendages? The plumes of a Resplendent Quetzal being touched by the clouds as they fog their way through epiphyte-laden forest is so darn enchanting that you begin to wonder if dryads are going to pop out of the nearest old growth Podocarpus tree. During recent guiding at Carara National Park, I was reminded that watching other, lesser known birds can be just as TinkerBell of an experience. For example, espying the blue eye ring of a Chestnut-backed Antbird as it forages in the permanently dim understory or getting killer looks at a normally skulking Riverside Wren can take your breath away.

Chestnut-backed Antbirds are common rainforest species seen when birding in Costa Rica.

Finding a Streak-chested Antpitta perched on a low branch as it sings its forlorn whistled song. A guy I was guiding actually spotted this bird before I did.

Watching a purple and red Baird’s Trogon pump its white tail to the beat of its staccato vocalization as a multitude of cicadas fill the humid forest air with arthopodic buzz.

Baird’s Trogon is a rather uncommon but regular regional endemic in the rainforests from Carara south to extreme western Panama.

Scarlet Macaws contemplating you from their nest.

Royal Flycatchers!- pairs are building nests on the River Trail.

A Pale-billed Woodpecker letting us watch it for several minutes as it scaled the bark off a small snag.

Black-faced Antthrushes pretending to be rails as they creep across the leafy ground. It seems that 3-4 PM in the park may be the best time to connect with these guys.

The past several days also turned up many a Northern Bentbill, Orange-collared Manakins on a lek, American Pygmy Kingfisher in the mangroves, Long-tailed Woodcreeper, Russet Antshrike, a Double-toothed Kite foraging with capuchins, King Vulture, nesting Gray-headed Tanager and Black-hooded Antshrikes, Great Tinamou, and a pair of Painted Buntings near Villa Lapas. You truly never know what you are going to see at Carara so it pays to bird the same trail more than once. Bird at Carara and just about anywhere in Costa Rica, though, and get ready to be spell-bound (don’t click on that unless you like Siouxsie and the Banshees!).

Thick-knees become even scarier when you take into account their somewhat nocturnal behavior. If you thought it was tough to avoid those powerful legs during the day, imagine being bowled over by a flock of thick-knees while they played their own version of avian rubgy on the hot grasslands of Guanacaste! When dawn breaks, the cattle quiver with fright as they crouch in the swales. The unlucky ones bellow from the pain of bruised ribs- they just couldn’t move fast enough to escape the fury of a pack of thick-knees. Crested Caracaras and Black Vultures keep their distance and stay off the ground until the thick-knees have gone back to their zombie-like daytime demeanor. If they are lucky, they come across some trampled frogs, snakes, and other unlucky animals that couldn’t flee from the pounding fury of bare feet powered by particularly thick knees.

Yes, some strange things happen on those hot, Guanacaste nights and the locals know that they better keep away from the grassy plains when the moon is full and the thick-knees are yammering. Better to spend the evening in a local bar accompanied by a fridge full of Imperial beer. Better to taunt bulls in a ring and run like hell to avoid serious injury than whistle at a thick-knee to see what might happen. They say that you hear a faint whispering of wings until Whammo!, you have been bowled over by steel-like, powerfully stomping legs! At least that’s what the rumor is. Never mind that I heard it from a local fellow whose personal sasquatch-like scent nearly knocked me over like the kick of a thick-knee. Like a head-hitting blend of fermented manure, sweat, half-digested alcohol, and something that may have been old shoes, it wasn’t what one would call “perfume”. I could handle it though, by breathing through the mouth, reminding myself that I was hearing unique and incredibly interesting information, and trying to figure out if the odd, dry thing in his beard was an old, forgotten piece of food or a rattlesnake tail.

After picking out the words of his story from an unhealthy dose of spittle and moonshine fueled guffaws, I heard about the dangerous games of thick-knee rugby that take place on moon-lit nights. I learned how to avoid the onslaught if caught in an open grassy field when the thick-knees are doing their thing (take cover and play dead). I discovered that as beautiful as their eyes appear during the day, they can hypnotize you in a basilisk-like manner when a full moon is added to the mix. With quivering lip, he said that it was the golden eyes that he actually feared the most. Cold and reptilian, he said that they remind you of a much earlier time in our evolutionary history some 30 million years ago when our ancestors scampered for their lives from big, hungry birds.

Gaze into my golden eye…

So, the moral of the story is, don’t go wandering around at night on the plains of Guanacaste, Costa Rica. Keep to the roads and you will be fine but venture into the tall dry grass and you just might have a close, nocturnal encounter with a thick-knee. Or, you might also meet a Tropical Rattlesnake or get infested with a few thousand chiggers so better to keep to the road!

To safely see a thick-knee and peer into their wonderful, huge, golden orbs, take the mangrove boat tour at Carara, look for them on the lower parts of the Cerro Lodge road, and keep an eye out for them in wet swales of grasslands anywhere in Guanacaste.

Although, like many areas of Costa Rica, Montezuma and surroundings can be nice for birding, most people who visit the country have just two or three weeks to work with and feel that their time is better spent in places like Tortuguero, the Osa peninsula, and Cerro de la Muerte. I would have to agree so there’s a fair chance that you won’t make it over to Montezuma. However, if non-birding family or chance brings you to this surf/backpacker touristy village, read on to see what awaits in terms of getting there and birds.

1. Puntarenas: The town of Puntarenas is built on a sandspit so it has a naturally elongated shape. If driving there, be aware that the signs indicating the entrance to Puntarenas can be 100% misleading. Use your GPS and/or common sense and you will eventually arrive but be very wary of the signs or you could start driving back towards San Jose. I speak from recent experience and kid you not! As tempting as it is to speed into town, don’t do it or you will be rewarded with a nasty ticket (and rightly so because there’s a lot of bikes and pedestrians on the streets). As for the birds, you might find a spot or two to check out mudflats and mangroves to the north of town.

2. The Ferry: There’s more ferrys nowadays so if you are driving, you probably won’t have to wait for hours in line like you used to. If using the most mundane of transportation, walk on over to the Musmanni bakery to buy your boarding tickets (less than $2 this past weekend), head to the top of the boat, claim a shady spot,and start scanning the water. Not many people bird this area on a regular basis so who knows what will show up? Although most birds will be expected species don’t discount the possibility of some rare waterbird making an appearance! I have seen some good stuff on each of the few trips I have done from Puntarenas to Paquera (the dock on the other side). Parasitic Jaeger, Least Storm Petrel, and Sooty Shearwater have all made appearances. On the most recent trip, an uncommon young Blue-footed Booby flew into view. We also had Franklin’s Gulls, Royal, Common, Black, and Sandwich Terns, Brown Booby, a sea turtle, and lots of jumping fish. On the way back to Puntarenas, the sea was so calm that it was downright surreal. Scanning with binos revealed patches of jumping fish far out on the water and scattered flocks of Black Terns as far as we could see!

There’s birds out there in them there waters (yee haw!).

Docking at Paquera.

3. Paquera to Tambor: After leaving Paquera, you drive past some promising looking riparian zones with big, old trees. I didn’t have time to bird there but it would be worth a stop. The edges of mangroves would also be worth checking.

4. Tambor: This tiny place is better known for the big Barcelo hotel that destroyed a bunch of mangroves far more valuable than the town itself.  To be fair, though, Barcelo has funded Scarlet Macaw recovery efforts in the area and planted a bunch of trees. The best birding is in the fields and mangroves just east of the village. From a mini-plaza at the east end of the village, walk in along old roads meant for a development that never happened until you reach trails that go near the mangroves. Spish and toot like a pygmy owl and you might see Northern Scrub Flycatcher, Mangrove Cuckoo, and even Mangrove Hummingbird (!). Lots of other cool birds in there too.

5. Curu National Wildlife Refuge: Somewhere along the way, watch for signs that lead to this birding site. Double-striped Thick Knee occurs in fields on the entrance road, there are semi-wild Spider Monkeys that may attack your car (I’m not exaggerating!), and trails that access mangroves and dry forest.

6. Tambor-Montezuma: After Tambor, you will drive into a larger town called, “Cabuya” (I think that’s its name). From there on to Montezuma, the road is dirt and adorned with pot holes. At one point, you will see signs for Montezuma that want you to go to the right. This will take you there but it’s closer and quicker to just go straight ahead. However, no matter which route you take into the village, go to the right, go past the cemetery and start birding. We did that on Saturday and were immediately rewarded with Plain-breasted Ground-Dove! For me, this was quite the serendipitous find because it was new for both the year and my Costa Rica list!  We also had American Kestrel there (uncommon in Costa Rica), and thick-knees called from the field at night. I bet other uncommon stuff could show up. Further on, the road passes by fields, riparian zones, and eventually descends to Montezuma. You might also get Plain Chachalaca in this area and Three-wattled Bellbirds from December to April.

Plain-breasted Ground Dove!

7.Montezuma: While the village isn’t ideal for birding, the coast has lots of rocky outcroppings, tidal pools, and a chance at Wandering Tattler. Although I only saw Ruddy Turnstones, Whimbrel, and Spotted Sandpipers, it does look ideal for the tattler and Surfbirds. Scanning the ocean here might also turn up some wayward pelagic- you never know! Watch for the magpie jays that look for handouts on the streets.

The Ruddy Turnstone looks down at the crab in disdain…

8. Cabo Blanco: I have never gone there so everything I write for this little section is hearsay but I bet it’s pretty good for birding. There is a good amount of forest, it is protected, and it’s pretty darn hot. You can’t really drive there so expect a long, hot trudge to bird Cabo Blanco.

Birds in the areas mentioned: Ok, so now for the most interesting part! While much of the area is deforested, there are patches of habitat, places that are growing back into forest, and riparian zones that support quite a few species. Any remnant wetlands and lagoons should be checked for things like Pinnated Bittern, Masked Duck, and other uncommon species. Not that I have seen those there but there’s a fair chance they occur if you find the right habitat. This part of the Nicoya peninsula is more humid than areas further north and demonstrates it with species such as Collared Aracari and Red-lored Parrot.

We actually did most of our birding around the Finca los Caballos Hotel and this is probably representative of      much of the surrounding area. Long-tailed Manakins were especially common.

Long-tailed Manakin- Costa Rica’s faux Bird of Paradise.

We had 8 species of hummingbirds sans feeders!

Green-breasted Mango is the most common hummingbird species near Montezuma.

Long-billed Starthroat isn’t supposed to be there according to the range maps.

This psycho looking White-fronted Parrot landed right next to the hotel deck.

Brown-crested Flycatcher and Yellow-bellied Elaenia perked up when I called like a pygmy owl.

The Elaenia.

The Myiarchus.

Some other interesting species included Orange-fronted and Orange-chinned Parakeets, Northern barred and Olivaceous Woodcreepers, Peregrine Falcon, Barred Antshrike, Plain Wren, American Coot (sorry, but it’s uncommon in Costa Rica!), Olive Sparrow, Stripe-headed Sparrow, Scissor-tailed Flycatcher, Blue-throated Goldentail, and Greenish Elaenia. Although many of the species are common and widespread, the open nature of the habitat made for great looks at most and excellent bird photography opportunities. Check out the newly formed birding club Picasa album for more pics! Many thanks to Dewald Reiner for taking great photos and setting that up.

Those upsides outweigh the downsides such as blazing hot weather on the Pacific coast and groups of non-birding tourists that send shockwaves through the forest with garish clothing and loud voices. Many of these non-forest people also feel compelled to share their monkey and macaw sightings with you, and to make sure that you don’t miss out on this vital information, do so with booming voices.

“DID YOU SEE THE MONKEYS?!?

Whether I saw “the monkeys” or not, I tell them that, “Yes, I did” in the hope that they won’t proceed with telling me where they saw them. They usually do however and follow that up with information about the nesting macaws.

“WE ALSO SAW MACAWS. DID YOU SEE THOSE?” (as four of these spectacular birds flush from the canopy with intimidating screams).

Or, sometimes, it’s just one person who tells me where to see the macaws in a much quieter voice. Clad in snow-white tennis shoes, this person picks his or her way through the rainforest along with the rest of his or her repellent-doped, erstwhile companions . Many times, such a person also happens to be wearing sunglasses (which is strange because the understory of primary forest is already so dim that you might be better off wearing night vision goggles). The sunglasses seem to add to the intrigue as, unsmiling, he or she briefly stops to tell me out of the corner of the mouth, “There’s macaws by the bridge. Up in a big tree. Nest. Can’t miss em.” This purveyor of insider bird information then continues on with the rest of the group as if nothing happened. I am left enlightened, speechless, and wondering if I should leave the trail and hide along with the antthrushes, quail-doves, and other cool birds that already did so.

I would probably find my feathered friends huddling behind a log and there would be a couple of Black-faced Antthrushes, a White-whiskered Puffbird or two, Gray-chested and Ruddy Quail-Doves, and a Spectacled Antpitta. To be polite, I would ask them if they minded me joining their quietly concealed party. They would surely agree when noticing my binoculars, lack of shades, and subdued clothing and we would keep out of sight until the long line of tourists wearing spotless outfits had reached their respective habitat; the parking lot.

Don’t get me wrong, I would love to see thousands of tourists visit Carara National Park on a daily basis if that would help with conservation efforts. I know they are just trying to be helpful. I also, know, however, that finding birds in tropical forest requires constant vigilance and concentration so I do my best to avoid non-binocular wearing people. One easy way to avoid running into a bunch of non-birders when searching for antswarms and waiting for tinamous to appear at Carara National Park is by visiting in October. I did just that yesterday when guiding a client and although we ended up seeing a few non-birders here and there (and one guy who asked what we were looking at when trying to espy a Nothern Bentbill) the place was pretty quiet.

The wet season also boosted the biting bug population but not enough to chase us out of the forest. We couldn’t do the river trail because it was flooded (as it does every year during the wet season) but we still had interesting birding along the HQ trail despite a starting time of 9 am. We got lucky upon arrival with two King Vultures circling into the air on thermals above the parking lot. A dark phase Short-tailed Hawk was with them along with an accompaniment of Black Vultures. Cloudy weather kept things pretty active inside the forest and we had a pretty good number of mixed flocks for the next few hours.

Parties of Black-hooded Antshrikes, Dot-winged Antwrens, Plain Xenops, and Tawny-crowned and Lesser Greenlets moved through the tall rainforest and were joined by Sulphur-rumped Flycatcher, Eye-ringed Flatbill, and the three most common woodcreepers- Streak-headed, Cocoa, and Wedge-billed. Greenish Elaenia, Northern Bentbill, Streaked, and Yellow-olive Flycatcher increased our list of Tyrannids and White-winged Becard was also seen well.

More colorful birds were represented by a stunning male Red-capped Manakin (sorry, too dark for a photo!), Rufous-tailed Jacamar, and Bay-headed Tanager. We didn’t see any trogons in the forest but this came as no surprise because they are decidely more difficult to see at this time of the year (they vocalize less and could be molting). Parrots were also noticeably absent. Other than hearing a few macaws, our only other psittacine was Orange-chinned Parakeet. It was interesting to find a large number of this edge species feasting on figs inside the forest. Oddly enough, we didn’t see any other birds at the fig tree.

We also did poor on ground birds and the lack of flowers resulted in very few hummingbird sightings. A couple of Spectacled Antpittas were calling but none were close enough to see, and we got a glimpse of one very shy Black-faced Antthrush as it raced away from us. The only ground bird that we got decent looks at was Gray-chested Dove.

As with every visit to rainforest, however, we had an excellent, unexpected encounter. Just past the bridge over the Quebrada Bonita, the chipping call of some unknown bird caught my attention. Since I didn’t recognize the vocalization, I figured it was probably an alarm call of sorts. Although I didn’t see what was making the call, I did find the probable reason for the alarm when my binocular turned a ball of leaves into  a roosting Spectacled Owl! I also noticed its mate when that bird looked down at us with those fierce, yellow, owl eyes.

I almost never see roosting owls so this was a prize! It will be interesting to see if I can refind them on future visits to Carara.

As is typical of visits to Carara and surroundings, we kept on adding birds in wetlands and dry habitats outside of the park until calling it quits around 4:30. We got about 115 species and would have gotten more if we had started at dawn so I suppose the point of this post is to expect a bunch of birds when birding Carara National Park no matter what month it is.

Chomes is pretty much the shorebird capital of Costa Rica. As those long distance, long-legged migrants fly south, they stop off in the food-rich estuarine habitats of the Gulf of Nicoya. A lot also stay for the winter but even more pass through during the fall trifecta of August, September, and October. They use mudflats and mangroves all around the gulf but so many of those are inaccessible. Since few birders make it to hotspots that can be scanned with a spotting scope, I wonder how many rarities get missed.

We didn’t connect with any super rare birds at Chomes on Saturday but since we also couldn’t check the entire place, there could have easily been something like a Long-billed Curlew, phalaropes, jaegers, boobies, or much rarer birds among the maze of mangroves and shrimp ponds. Before the place was divied up to cultivate shrimp, it was probably a much more productive area of mangrove forests and natural mud flats. Nevertheless, a heck of a lot of birds still use the temporary mud flats that form in the shrimp ponds and you can drive along most of the dikes that criss-cross the area. Birding from the car in hot and shadeless wetlands reminded me of wildlife refuges up north and I half expected to see brown signs that depicted a flying goose. However, the total and utter lack of signage combined with the calls of Orange-fronted Parakeets and Groove-billed Anis reminded me that I was still in Costa Rica.

But before I talk any further about the wonderful, blazing hot shrimp ponds at Chomes, let me tell you about the birding on the way in. After leaving the highway, the road to Chomes goes for 9 kilometers through patches of dry forest, pasture, at least one old growth riparian zone, some wet fields, and way too many acres of bird-bereft pineapples. In case you didn’t know, do not buy pineapples from Costa Rica if you want to protect bird habitat! Lots of chemicals are used, they cover massive areas, and you would be lucky to find even one Tropical Kingbird. There should be laws that restrict the amount of land dedicated to farming pineapples and the chemicals used on them because it’s an incredibly unsustainable way to misuse invaluable natural resources.

Away from the pineapple fields, the birding was pretty good (surprise surprise)! With our hearts set on shorebirds and shrimp ponds, we only made a few stops in the dry habitats along the way but were immediately impressed by a Crane Hawk doing its usual floppy foraging act, flybys of Orange-fronted and Orange-chinned Parakeets, and calling White-fronted and Yellow-naped Parrots. On another conservation note, Yellow-naped Parrots have become rather uncommon due to the cage bird trade. You can still see them in a lot of areas of Costa Rica, but we need to do more to protect nesting sites and educate people that keeping birds in cages is cruel and just plain wrong.

Other species near the Crane Hawk included White-lored Gnatcatchers, hordes of Yellow Warblers, one Red-eyed Vireo, a few Eastern Wood Pewees, Streak-headed Woodcreeper, Blue Grosbeak, White-collared Seedeaters, Scrub Euphonia, Groove-billed Anis, a bunch of Barn, Cliff, and Bank Swallows, Black-bellied Whistling Ducks, Gray Hawk, White-winged, Inca, and Common Ground-Doves, Violaceous (Gartered Trogon), Turquoise-browed Motmot, Hoffmann’s and Lineated Woodpeckers, and Rufous-naped Wren. All of these are a typical litany of birds that you run into when birding Costa Rica’ Pacific northwest and I’m sure we would have seen more had we started birding at dawn and concentrated our efforts in the riparian zones.

The road to Chomes.Here is what it sounded like: chomes road medley1.

Just before we reached Chomes, a field with tall grass and a hidden wetland yielded a dozen Double-striped Thick-Knees and a bunch of Wood Storks, Roseate Spoonbills, and egrets. We wouldn’t have known about the wetland had we not seen the heads of the tall wading birds at the far end of the field. It was a shame that we couldn’t get closer to the wet area because it looked like perfect habitat for Pinnated Bittern- a potential lifer. I bet there was one or two out there in the tall, wet grass but my lifer P. Bitty will have to wait for a day with better visibility.

One of 12 Double-striped Thick-Knees near Chomes.

Looking forward to shorebirds, we drove with determination through the dusty streets of Chomes and after 4 blocks, came to a halt at the end of town. Where were the shrimp ponds? Why don’t they have a sign that shows a proud Marbled Godwit standing next to a smiling, claw-waving crustacean? If everyone was a birder, we would see so many cool avian-themed signs. There would be an annual laying of wreaths at monuments to the Dodo, Passenger Pigeon, and Carolina Paroquet. We would see top ten hits of songs that paid homage to Nightingales, Northern Cardinals, and pratincoles, and poems and jokes about birds would grace greeting cards throughout the world.

“Your eyelashes are more beautiful than a Rhea’s, your voice more lovely than the caroling of a Hermit Thrush. Be My Valentine!”

“Macaws and albatrosses still look great at 65 and so do you. Happy Birthday!”

“If heaven exists, she is watching a flock of Pink-headed Ducks as a parade of Great Auks and Moas march through the streets. Our thoughts are with you at this difficult time.”

But alas, crowds of New Yorkers aren’t exactly pulling out binoculars from briefcases to scan the sky for peregrines and residents of Chomes don’t hang out at the shrimp farms to count shorebirds. They are, however, aware of birders, friendly, and told us how to get to the shrimp ponds. When you get to what appears to be the last block in town (there aren’t that many), go left until you see an obvious gate with a blue archway. Ask for permission to enter and say that you would like to watch birds (for the non-Spanish speakers out there, you could say, “Podemos entrar para ver aves?”).

Someone should let you in and may also tell you that the main road to the beach is impassable. This was true on Saturday and so we could only check out a few of the ponds but we still saw a bunch of cool birds. Black-necked Stilts were the most common shorebird.

Black-necked Stilt. My camera really hates to focus on this skinny bird.

There were also quite a few Short-billed Dowitchers, plenty of yelping Willets, and lots of Whimbrels. Hundreds of Black and Least Terns also entertained us by flying around and calling but we had to walk to the last shrimp pond on the right to hit the shorebird mother lode.

A glimpse of the Chomes shorebird mother lode.

That wonderful mud flat was pretty much crawling with shorebirds. A group of orangey Marbled Godwits held court in the middle with a bunch of Willets, Whimbrels, Short-billed Dowitchers, Black-bellied, Wilson’s, and Semipalmated Plovers, Royal, Sandwich, and Gull-billed Terns, two Elegant Terns, and one Black Skimmer! Elsewhere on the mud flat, there were a bunch of Spotted, Least, Western, and Semipalmated Sandpipers, Sanderlings, Ruddy Turnstones, Great and Snowy Egrets, Little Blue, Tricolored, and Green Herons, and White Ibis. Yeah, it was pretty damn cool, especially because I picked up a few new year birds.

There might have been something else in that muddy shrimp pond but to keep from turning into dried out, wraith-birder husks, we walked back to the car for rehydration and AC. In checking out the road to the beach, we discovered that a massive water-filled hole was indeed preventing any further passage and therefore proceeded to do a 10 point turn to aim the car towards the exit.

Heading towards the exit. Note the Bare-throated Tiger-Heron.

At the entrance (now exit), we had to wait five minutes for a friendly shrimp pond worker to unlock the gate. I don’t know how frequently people come and go at the shrimp farms so if you do go birding there, don’t stay until evening or you might spend the night in your car (or on dike with the mosquitoes for company).

I hope I make it down to Chomes at least one more time before the end of the year to pick up a rarity or two. It would be nice if I could drive to the beach but I don’t expect them to fill that huge hole anytime soon.

Willet pretending to be a dead branch at Chomes.

I planned on checking out marshy fields for White-tailed Nightjar, picking up Pacific Screech-Owl in any wooded area, and catching the dawn chorus in areas of mixed habitats. Although I lacked “gen” on the best birding spots near Playa Hermosa, I wasn’t worried at all because the undeveloped nature of Guanacaste makes it easy to find good habitat and lots of birds. Large areas of intact dry forest are hard to come by outside of protected areas but you can still get most (if not all) of the forest species in old riparian groves.

With my foolproof plan in mind, I aimed the car towards the promised birds of Guanacaste ready and eager to clean up on target birds, get photos of things like Banded Wren and Streak-backed Oriole, and maybe even connect with migrant shorebirds. Not far from San Jose, however,  Murphy’s Law, Bad Luck, or whatever you want to call it (I also like “throwing a spanner into the works”) hit us exactly where it counts. As we left the Central Valley, my poor little Miranda suddenly threw up all over “Vaca”, her big plush cow. We figured this stemmed from over indulging on candy as Friday was the official holiday of “Dia del Nino” or “Kids Day” but when she kept throwing up, I began to suspect that she might have some virus adapted to parasitising cells of the digestive tract. Although she wasn’t feverish, by the time we arrived at the Villas Huetares in Playa Hermosa, Miranda was undoubtedly ill. My wife and mother-in-law refused to let go of their “too much candy” hypothesis but since they also believe that you can catch a cold from rainy weather, I don’t give much weight to their diagnoses. As Miranda threw up over the course of that first night at Villa Huetares, I realized that my plan was probably going to to be put on hold. If she still threw up in the morning, had a fever, or was not holding down water, I was going to bring her to the nearest hospital (mostly to keep her hydrated).

It was a fitful night but by the time the morning sun lit up the hotel courtyard, Miranda was sound asleep. I made my way onto the balcony outside our room and looked for birds. Murphy’s Law apparently has something against Streak-backed Orioles because I just couldn’t get a good picture of them but I at least managed some Ok shots of Inca Dove,

Stripe-headed Sparrow, and

Groove-billed Ani.

Other birds around the hotel included flybys of Orange-fronted Parakeets and one pair of Yellow-naped Parrots, Yellow Warblers, TKs, Social and Boat-billed Flys, Great Kiskadee, Melodious Blackbird, lots of White-winged Doves, Cinnamon Hummingbird, and Turquoise-browed Motmot. These are all par for the course in Guanacaste but were nice to see anyways.

When Miranda awoke, she wasn’t her usual jolly, mischievous self but she was certainly looking better. Much to my relief, she was also eating and drinking a bit without vomiting so it looked like we wouldn’t need to make that hospital visit after all. Over the course of that first full day, we went to the beach but it was mostly a bust for birds. Scanning the rocky shorelines didn’t reveal any Wandering Tattlers or Surfbirds and terns were 100% absent. I did pick up one year bird though; a Brown Booby that flew in and made a few dives before heading to fishier waters.

In the afternoon, I was finally able to get out and put all of my attention on the birds. I picked a route that took me towards the Tempisque River near the town of Filadelphia in the hopes of finding some birdy wetlands. While driving, I saw a flock of Yellow-naped Parrots, more groups of Orange-fronted Parakeets, Crested Carcaras, White-tailed Kite, a pair of Double-striped Thick-Knees sitting under a big tree in the middle of a very short lawn, and dozens of Blue-black Grassquits. Past Filadelphia, I realized that I had made a mistake in taking that route because the surrounding habitat consisted of sugarcane fields. Aside from an occasional roadside ditch, I didn’t come across any wetlands but got a year bird in the form of the Bank Swallows that were perched on wires and feeding above the fields. Mixed in with them were several Barn and Cliff Swallows.

As the magic hour of 4pm approached, I took the road from Filadelphia to Sardinal and realized that this was where I should have focused my efforts in the first place. The road was wide enough to pull over and bird for most of its length, and it was flanked by such habitats as scrubby fields, grasslands, a wetland or two, savannah-like habitats, and riparian growth. I couldn’t stop everywhere because I wanted to be back to the hotel by 5:30, but I still managed to get in some nice birds. The summer sounding song of White-collared Seedeaters was a constant companion, a male Blue Grosbeak that sang from a wire was pretty awesome, and I got my year Brown-crested Flycatcher. At a grassy stream, spishing brought in at least a dozen Yellow Warblers while a Green Kingfisher stared down at the water and Gray-crowned Yellowthroats sang from the fields. Rufous-backed Wrens and Hoffmann’s Woodpeckers were pretty common and White-throated Magpie-Jays made occasional appearances. There were also a lot of Inca, Common-Ground, and Ruddy-Ground Doves but I couldn’t turn any of them into much wanted Plain-breasted Ground-Dove.

I had hoped to hit that area the following morning or bird the road between Playa Panama and Liberia but that plan was abandoned when I became afflicted with the same illness that had besieged my daughter. My suspicions of stomach flu were confirmed as I unwillingly emptied my gut throughout the night. The following morning was spent resting up and sipping water with a splash of Gatorade so I could drive back up to the San Jose area. As me and Miranda watched kids television shows in the cool, dark room of the hotel, I just felt relieved that we never had to go to the hospital. Even if I didn’t see or hear all my target birds, we found a great place to stay and will probably visit again before the end of 2011. Next time we visit, I will probably focus more on the road between Playa Panama and Playa Hermosa as there were several places to pull off and bird, the traffic is pretty light, and it passes through scrubby mangroves, forest, savannah, sugarcane, and some rice fields that could attract wetland species.

On a side note, if you are headed to Guanacaste, there are plenty of options for accommodations. In addition to all inclusive resorts, there are also lots of smaller, very nice hotels, equipped villas, bed and breakfasts, and cheaper, backpacker options (including camping). Villas Huetares turned out to be the perfect choice for us and we hope to head back sometime soon. During the off-season, they charge $90 per night for a villa equipped with two large rooms with two beds each. The kitchen had a refrigerator, gas stove, sink, and a cupboard with pots, pans, dishes, cutlery, etc. There were also two pools, one of which is for kids, and the place is just 200 meters from the beach. The next time we visit, we hope to share a villa (and costs) with friends and their young daughter and bring most of our own food and drink. I’ll bird the road between Playa Panama and Liberia, search the rice fields and wetlands for Spotted Rail and Masked Duck, and get all of my target birds! Well, that’s the plan as long as Murphy’s Law doesn’t go into effect.

The cloudy, humid weather in the already dim understory of the rainforest just couldn’t provide enough light for my digiscoping set-up no matter how much I fiddled with the camera. For unknown disappointing reasons, my camera also demonstrated its propensity to focus on sticks instead of birds even when the bird was smack dab in the center of the screen. I realize that the Sony Cybershot wasn’t developed for getting shots of birds, but it surely wasn’t designed to amass a photographic catalogue of twigs either. Oh well, I’m sure there’s a way to take better bird pictures with it, I just need to figure out how to do it.

Since the park doesn’t open until 8 a.m. during the low, rainy season, I started my birding day along the road to Bijagual. This is the same dirt road that passes in front of Villa Lapas and is always productive for birds. Although you don’t see species of the forest interior such as Great Tinamou and Black-faced Antthrush, views of the forest edge and hillsides are good for mixed flocks and raptors. On Saturday morning, I picked a spot that lacked stream noise and recorded such targets as Rufous and white wren1 and Northern Bentbill. Cocoa Woodcreeper and other species called in the distance as did Marbled Wood-Quail (species 527 for the year). There was also enough light for me to adequately capture Scrub Euphonia and Northern Bentbill.

Scrub Euphonia- these guys are actually related to goldfinches.

Northern Bentbill- Carara is an excellent site for this species.

Once the clock “struck” 8, I headed over to the park entrance, paid my fee, and entered the forest. Shortly after, I realized that I had made a grave error in not bringing along some serious plastic melting DEET as I was assaulted by a healthy population of thirsty mosquitoes. Those little vampires are around during the dry season too but their numbers pale in comparison to what I experienced on Saturday. It’s still not as bad as any wet, summer woodland of the far north but be forewarned that you will need repellent in Carara during the wet season!

To avoid recording cars along with bird sounds, I walked straight back into the forest as far as the figure eight trail would go before setting up my LS10 recorder, Sennheiser microphone, and headphones. I walked through the forest with headphones on and it must have looked a bit strange, but if only those bemused non-birding tourists could hear what I did!  Black-faced Antthrushes were especially vocal, Plain Xenops bickered, Rufous Pihas occasionally called in the distance, and a Black-striped Woodcreeper sang from some canopy tree trunk. Long-tailed Woodcreeper also vocalized once in a while but I wasn’t able to capture its song (unfortunately as there are few recordings of this taxon that almost certainly deserves to be split from Amazonian Long-tailed Woodcreepers because it sounds radically different from them).

The back part of the trail also resulted in a neotropical prize- an army antswarm! I noticed the columns of ants crossing the trail but it wasn’t until I scanned the forest floor in the direction they were heading that I saw some birds. Two Black-faced Antthrushes were running back and forth in the front of the swarm and a handful of Bicolored Antbirds clung to vertical stems as they pumped their tails and quietly “churred” (new word describing the vocalizations that this and other related antbird species give). A pair of Chestnut-backed Antbirds and Riverside Wrens were also taking advantage of the easy pickings but other birds such as woodcreepers, tinamous, Gray-headed Tanager, and Spectacled Antpitta were strangely absent.

So it is with antswarms. You will see some birds with the swarm but you often need to wait around and follow the front until other birds show up. Even if you don’t see much at first, it’s always worth it to follow the swarm if you can because in addition to the expected bunch of ant following birds, things like motmots, foliage-gleaners, and even forest-falcons will suddenly pop into view. Of course, you have to be in a position where you can follow the ants though, and on Saturday, as the nomadic predators marched off into thick second growth, I realized that this wasn’t one of those occasions.

Nevertheless, I still managed to get some grainy shots of:

Black-faced Antthrush,

Bicolored Antbird,

and Riverside Wren.

This was undoubtedly the highlight of the day but as usual when birding Carara, I still identified a bunch of other birds. The tally for the morning in the park and along Bijagual road was 94 species and included:

Great Tinamou

Black Vulture

Turkey Vulture

Laughing Falcon

Gray Hawk

Marbled Wood-Quail

Short-billed Pigeon

Gray-chested Dove

White-tipped Dove

Inca Dove

Scarlet Macaw

Brown-hooded Parrot

Orange-chinned Parakeet

Squirrel Cuckoo

Striped Cuckoo

Groove-billed Ani

Long-billed Hermit

Stripe-throated Hermit

Purple-crowned Fairy

White-necked Jacobin

Charming Hummingbird

Steely-vented Hummingbird

Rufous-tailed Hummingbird

Blue-throated Goldentail

Violaceous (Gartered) Trogon

Blue-crowned Motmot

Turquoise-browed Motmot

White-whiskered Puffbird

Chestnut-mandibled Toucan

Golden-naped Woodpecker

Plain Xenops

Long-tailed Woodcreeper

Wedge-billed Woodcreeper

Cocoa Woodcreeper

Streak-headed Woodcreeper

Black-striped Woodcreeper

Black-hooded Antshrike

Barred Antshrike

Slaty Antwren

Dot-winged Antwren

Dusky Antbird

Chestnut-backed Antbird

Bicolored Antbird

Black-faced Anthrush

Greenish Elaenia

Ochre-bellied Flycatcher

Northern Bentbill

Slate-headed Tody-Flycatcher

Common Tody-Flyatcher

Yellow-Olive Flycatcher

Golden-crowned Spadebill

Royal Flycatcher

Sulphur-rumped Flycatcher

Dusky-capped Flycatcher

Great Kiskadee

Boat-billed Flycatcher

Piratic Flycatcher

Tropcial Kingbird

Rufous Piha

White-winged Becard

Rose-throated Becard

Long-tailed Manakin

Lesser Greenlet

Tawny-crowned Greenlet

Gray-breasted Martin

Southern Rough-winged Swallow

Rufous-naped Wren

Riverside Wren

Rufous and white Wren

Rufous-breasted Wren

Scaly-breasted Wren

Long-billed Gnatwren

Tropical Gnatcatcher

Clay-colored Robin

Rufous-capped Warbler

Tropical Parula

Blue-gray Tanager

White-shouldered Tanager

Bay-headed Tanager

Red-crowned Ant-Tanager

Green Honeycreeper

Variable Seedeater

White-collared Seedeater

Blue-black Grassquit

Blue-Black Grosbeak

Orange-billed Sparrow

Buff-throated Saltator

Bronzed Cowbird

Montezuma Oropendola

Yellow-throated Euphonia

Scrub Euphonia

Yellow-crowned Euphonia

Spot-crowned Euphonia

“So this must be the zipline thing”, you may say to yourself as you swerve to avoid yet another pedestrian. If you are a birder or biologist, you may also find yourself wondering what on Earth “canopy” has to do with “ziplining”. After all, isn’t the canopy that wonderful, mysterious, and mostly inaccessible part of the rainforest that harbors a big chunk of biodiversity? Isn’t it the arboreal realm of glittering cotingas, weird woodpeckers, and strange gliding herps? Of course the canopy is this and so much more which makes the hijacking of this term for an “adventure activity” a silly shame. Ziplining activities occur up there in the canopy but you don’t get the chance to investigate your surroundings while rushing through the treetops along a cable. No, to get a glimpse into the rainforest canopy, you need to get up there (preferably above the tree crowns) and just hang out. Scan the sea of trees with binoculars and don’t forget the scope to check out the distant raptors, parrots, and tanagers that also like to hang out in the treetops.

The 100 million colones question, of course, is “How does one manage to climb 100 feet or more up into the trees”? This is then quickly followed up by another question of equally high value: “And how do you avoid falling out of the tree once you get up there”? There is, however, one response that comfortably answers both of these questions: “a canopy tower”. With these awesome structures, you typically walk up a bunch of steps to access platforms at different levels of the forest which results in excellent views of a bunch of birds whose identification would have otherwise been a question of silhouettes and calls. As much as some of us birders like to be challenged, we always opt for the nice, easy views that a canopy tower provides. No more warbler neck, and you just might squeal with glee when Blue-headed Parrots fly too close for binoculars, Gray-headed Kites flap along at eye level, and especially when you have to ID tanagers by the pattern on their backs!

editors note- I’m not kidding about the “squeal with glee” thing. I have been witness to this and other, cruder exclamations of amazement at canopy towers in Tambopata, Peru.

The irony of all of this is that even though exploration of the rainforest canopy was pioneered in Costa Rica by David Perry, and Costa Rica is visited by thousands of birders, there aren’t any canopy towers! Ziplines have cropped up like an invasive plant and there are at least two tram rides that gondola you up into the canopy, but the nearest canopy tower has been the eco-lodge of the same name in Panama. This Costa Rican catch-22 has all changed, however, thanks to the San Vito Birding Club. Not willing to wait around for the national parks to build a canopy tower, they actually raised enough funds to build one of their own! I haven’t been there yet but this video shows what truly appears to a bona fide canopy tower ripe for birding!

It’s bound to be a good site for raptors, getting close looks at canopy flocks, and might turn out to be the most reliable site in the country for Turquoise Cotinga. So, if the excellent birding at the Wilson Botanical Garden wasn’t enough to merit fitting this site into your Costa Rican birding trip, it sure is now!

While attempting some shots of these brilliant birds, I was surprised to see that they are somewhat camouflaged in the foliage of the beach almond. The shocking red, yellow, and blue plumage of the Scarlet Macaw might be a bit too much to describe them as being “camouflaged” but they sort of blend in with the red, yellow, and green leaves of the Beach Almond.

A Scarlet Macaw trying to hide in a Beach Almond….

followed by an unflattering view from the rear….

until it clambered out from the leaves to…

munch on a seed.

As with most neotropical birding, Murphy’s Law came into effect when this and other macaws were nowhere to be found when I showed up with two serious photography enthusiasts on the following day. At least we still recorded around 140 bird species during a day of birding the wonderfully diverse area around Carara.

Great Tinamou

Its always frustrating to walk through beautiful rainforest without seeing such strange and cool birds when you know that they must be somewhere in the vicinity. In most places, the birds hear you coming down the trail and fade away into the recesses of the forest because they decide that its better not to take any chances on whether or not the two legged thing with binoculars will kill and eat them. If they learn that Homo sapiens doesnt pose a threat, however, then the shy, feathered denizens of the forest floor can lower their guard enough to let you watch them at your leisure. You still have to play by their rules and thus walk and watch in a quiet, unobtrusive manner but at least you get to watch them go about their business.

In Costa Rica, there might be no better place for doing this than Carara National Park. La Selva is also a good site for seeing tinamous and antthrushes in this manner but unfortunately, along with many other understory species, they have become much less common. I was reminded of just how good Carara is for seeing ground birds during guiding there this past weekend. During two mornings of birding along the trails that leave from the park headquarters, we had good looks at most of the ground birds that occur in the park. Our main misses were Great Curassow and Marbled Wood-Quail although these species are pretty rare in that part of the forest in any case. As for the more expected species, we had:

Great Tinamou: At least six were heard but only one was seen as it quietly foraged at a small antswarm. It allowed us watch it for at least ten minutes as we hoped and waited for other birds to show (only Northern Barred Woodcreeper made an appearance).

Ruddy Quail-Dove: A female sitting right on the cement pathway of the Universal Access Trail was a bonus. As she slowly made her way into the forest, we watched her for at least ten minutes while being entertained by very tame Chestnut-backed Antbirds.

Gray-chested Dove: This is one of the easier of the ground birds that occur at Carara. Three to four birds total gave us good views.

Streak-chested Antpitta: One of the star birds of Carara, a calling bird revealed itself by hopping near the trail and puffing its breast feathers in and out. We marvelled at the similarities between its plumage and that of other understory species such as thrushes and Ovenbird.

Black-faced Antthrush: None were vocalizing but we still mananged excellent looks at three birds. Each was noticed by the leaves that were being tossed about as it foraged.

Scaly-throated Leaftosser: Speaking of leaves being tossed, this was also how we got prolonged, close looks at the juvenile of this shy species. It was nice for me to get this uncommon species out of the way so early in the year!

Some of the other ground loving species we got that usually arent so difficult to see were Chestnut-backed Antbird, Wood Thrush, Swainsons Thrush, Ovenbird, Kentucky Warbler, Northern Waterthrush, and Orange-billed Sparrow.

Another reason why Carara is so conducive to seeing ground bird species well is simply because the forest understory is rather open. Although it helps to know their vocalizations, patiently spending an entire day of peering into the understory while carefully and quietly walking along the trails should yield looks at all of the species listed above and maybe some that we didn’t get such as the curassow, wood-quail,  Gray-headed Tanager, and Bicolored Antbird.