green gold

To accomplish great things one must usually stand on the shoulders of giants. This is true in pretty much all walks of life, from scientific discovery to athletic dominance, even if our western civilization tends to emphasize individual accomplishments over the communal contributions that make them possible. Every Edmund Hillary has a Tenzing Norgay or, more likely, a whole team of Tenzing Norgays. Even with something as mundane as bird watching, which at its best is a solitary act of communion with nature, one can go a lot further by leveraging the birding community, from local guides to area expert reviewers to ornithologists studying bird populations to the hobbyists who report their sightings.

Although it doesn’t feel like research, these days D does a lot of pre-trip prep before heading out on his birding outings, from looking up hotspots in eBird to reading about the birds he hasn’t seen that are being reported there. Part of this groundwork is driven by pure fascination with nature’s fanciful creations, but there is also a practical element to D’s prep — knowing the habits of birds one hopes to see greatly increases one’s chances of actually finding them. It’s not enough to know that a bird has been spotted in a particular location; understanding where and how to look for it is far more important.

And yet, D is not completely sold on guided bird walks. Partly this is because the element of personal discovery is what most appeals to D about bird watching. The other factor in this equation is that guides can be hit-or-miss. We’ve benefited from some standout naturalist guides, most notably Franco, our intrepid tour leader in Namibia, without whom D likely would have missed half of the 170 different birds he saw over the course of our two-week safari. We’ve also had more than our fair share of lackluster guides, including some who have detracted from what otherwise would have been enjoyable outings. As a result — and because he also enjoys the solitary-communion-with-nature aspect of birding — D still largely prefers to go it alone.

After birding on our own in Sarapiqui and Uvita — with pretty spectacular results, if we may be permitted a moment of immodesty — we decided to try a guided birding walk in Oro Verde, a family-owned reserve near Uvita whose owner/guide was born and raised on the very patch of rainforest we explored. Though not a five-star guide (he got several bird IDs wrong and we were responsible for many of our own finds, especially when we birded along the edge of the forest), the guide was immensely pleasant and proved his mettle when we headed deep into the woods.

Our most memorable birds that morning — a Baird’s trogon (which is a regional endemic seen only in Costa Rica and Panama), red-capped and blue-crowned manakins, and a streak-chested antpitta (a fairly common and easily heard but incredibly shy and rarely seen resident of tropical forests) — would have been unlikely without his help. The antpitta (our first-ever member of this bird family), in particular, was spectacular. Having heard its mournful whistle at the forest edge, the guide led us deep into the woods, found a clearing, and then whistled until the antpitta obliged by hopping into view, settling on an exposed tree trunk, and returning his call.

Given how difficult it is to see anything inside the rainforest, where many of Costa Rica’s most spectacular birds reside, there are likely to be plenty more guided birding walks in our future.

Pictured above: Baird’s trogon, red-capped manakin, black-throated trogon, streak-chested antpitta.