“Gracias a Dios que hemos salido de esas Honduras.”
(Thank
God we have departed from these depths.)
–Christopher Columbus (1502) upon
leaving the shores of what would become Honduras.
With one of the highest murder rates in the world, until
recently overrun by cartels, a history of violence against environmental
activists, and hostign a diversity of tropical diseases to share, Honduras is not
the first country you’d think to visit in Central America for birding. But it
also contains 23 bioreserves covering 20% of the country, 9 mountains over
7,000 feet, and a tropical lowland wilderness (depicted as a “heart of
darkness” in the 1986 film “The Mosquito Coast” featuring two youthful actors
in Harrison Ford and Helen Mirren). And the murder rate has actually dropped
30% since 2012 and is mostly contained to large cities. Plus, have you ever
walked through a coffee plantation while cradling a hot mug of its
spirit-lifting product? Honduras today doesn’t look like a terrible destination
after all.
So
on February 17, 2016 I flew in to its capital city, Tegucigalpa, a name I didn’t
even know how to pronounce. For the next 12 days I would explore Parque
Nacional, Reserva Biologica, Laguna, Montana, Bosque, y Vale throughout
Honduras with 9 other people from Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Honduras. Our
goal was to learn about the conservation efforts underway in the country and
document as many bird species as possible. This adventure was Juniata Valley
Audubon Society’s inaugural Birding for Conservation Tour led by Mark Bonta. Then
I would spend 8 days volunteering with Ruth Bennett, a doctoral candidate at
Cornell University, as she concluded her fieldwork with Blue- and Golden-winged
Warblers that season.
First goal after role call and packing gear: Food. So naturally we headed downtown to the mall and hit up the food court. After perusing each foreign counter I decided my first Honduran meal ironically was El Salvador’s national dish, Pupusas (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pupusa), or soft tortillas stuffed with beans and cheese. And they were perfect with a few dabs of hot sauce. It’s really a National Food Pocket, like ravioli (Italy) or dumplings (China) or hot pockets (U.S.A.).
Then
we all jumped in our 14-passenger van and climbed up to the tallest adjacent
mountain, home to the cloud forest preserve, Parque Nacional La Tigra, Most of
the interior highlands are carpeted with pine savanna, a landscape more
reminiscent of Ponderosa Pine forests of Colorado than the tropical broadleaf
forest lowlands of Belize or Costa Rica. Cloud forests cap the mountain peaks,
each acting as a biological island, with unique flora and fauna. Before we made
the edge of the parque, our van pulled over along a narrow dirt road at the
first sign of Bushy-crested Jays (the most widespread and abundant corvid in
the country). And with
these yellow-eyed jays came warblers: Eastern migrants like Black-and-white and
Black-throated Green, Western migrants like Townsend’s and Hermit, and local
breeding Grace’s and Crescent-chested Warblers. A Band-tailed Pigeon flock flew
overhead as an Azure-crowned Hummingbird darted past my head. Then I spotted a
Brown-capped Vireo, several Yellow-backed Orioles, and a Black-headed Siskin .
. . then one rampaging Blue Bird down the dirt road we were standing in. We
learned to that stay vigilant for them from then on. No, it wasn’t an actual
bird nor was it blue. Although there are resident Eastern Bluebirds here, one
of surprising number of carryover species from the Eastern U.S. Blue Bird is an
American school bus manufacturer, and this was one of many retired yellow
school buses that now has a second life in Honduras. So naturally with no
traffic police, the young reckless pilots kept their right foot as close to the
floor as possible between stops.
http://ebird.org/ebird/view/checklist?subID=S28060416
http://ebird.org/ebird/view/checklist?subID=S28060416
That evening we stayed at the lodge
adjacent to La Tigra Visitor’s Center. Most of us spent the night shivering yet
thankful to not be caught out in the 3am downpour.
The
temperature had dropped into the single digits (Celsius!) that night and the
rain did not help the bird activity the next morning. Fragrant sweet coffee and
the sounds of Mexican Whip-poor-wills greeted the early risers. Once the sun
hit the treetops, we made our way to the nearest suave trailhead. Slate-colored
Solitaires threw their fluty songs around each shadow-filled bend in the trail
and Common Chlorospingus faithfully emerged with every “pish.” But the cloud forest
was clearly in control this morning. A wet fog rolled in with infrequent wind
gusts. We still managed to pick out a few mixed flocks within the understory.
Mountain Trogons called constantly, but Resplendent Quetzals were absent. But
we did find a stunning male Golden-winged Warbler! Honduras has one of the highest wintering densities of
this charismatic species. Of course it was in the exact opposite habitat
you would expect to find one: the thick humid understory of a montane cloud
forest.
We wandered down the dirt road we drove in on and picked up a few cloud forest specialties like Crested Guan, Flame-colored Tanager, and Rufous-browed Wren. Tennessee Warblers and Common Chlorospingus
dominated passing warbler flocks. Then Gilberto, an Ecotourism student and our
bilingual guide, picked out a Green Violetear nest on a roadside bush. It was
difficult to believe he could identify an empty hummingbird nest, so I got
closer to inspect and document it. And as I brought my camera to my face a brilliant green and violet hummingbird filled my right ear with a deep buzzing. He nailed it!
Our driver, Fito, met us with the van as we hit the parque
boundary. We were headed back through Tegus (colloquial nickname for the
capital) and out to the “wild west” of Honduras, the department of Olancho.
