10 Oct 2001
I arrive in Lima and dine at L'Eau Vive, a French
restaurant that is part of a convent. I am their only patron; after my espresso, the
sisters sing Ave Maria in both French and Spanish. Their pure natural voices are
quite moving.
12 Oct 2001
The day begins with an early departure from
Cusco with Wim ten Have of Tanager Tours, along with fellow birders Sean and
Chris, two wildlife biologists from the U.S. Our destination is the Manu Biosphere
Preserve in the southeastern lowlands, where live perhaps the greatest diversity of birds
on the planet. After crossing Acjanaco Pass at 3800 m (12,350 ft), we descend
into lush cloud forest along the notorious Cusco-Manu road. This rough dirt
road, wide enough for only one vehicle, hugs the steep Andean mountainside for 80 km
before reaching the foothills. Often the wheels of our van are a mere 2-3 feet from
the edge of a sheer precipice. We eventually become rather blasé at the sight of a
1000-foot drop to the river far below, but many a silent prayer is made regarding brakes,
steering mechanisms, and the like.
Welcome stops reveal a remarkable assortment of dazzling birds along
the roadside: Gray-breasted Mountain-toucan, Amethyst-throated Sunangel, Gould's
Inca, Masked Trogon, Golden-headed Quetzal, Barred Fruiteater, Pearled Treerunner,
White-collared Jay, Spectacled Redstart, Scarlet-bellied Mountain-tanager, Grass-green
Tanager, and the rare Chestnut-crested Cotinga. The undisputed star is Versicolored
Barbet, whose stunning red, yellow, and blue plumage elicits wows and omigoshes from all.
15 Oct 2001
We are staying at Cock-of-the-Rock Lodge, a
kilometer from one of the communal display courts, or leks, of the bird for which the
lodge is named. The lek of these beautiful cotingas is on a steep forested slope.
Females drop by to select a mate early in the morning and occasionally late in the
day if they are in the mood. This afternoon Wim arranges for me to set up my camera
in a lean-to about 20 m below the public viewing area. I settle in, and soon each
Andean Cock-of-the-Rock returns to his three-dimensional "territory," about 3-4
m on a side, in the lek. The males bicker with their neighbors and show off for the
females: bowing and executing smart 180-degree turns on a limb.
I shoot two rolls of film, then the rains commence. The
Cocks-of-the-Rock brave it for a while, but are finally scattered by thunder and driving
sheets of rain. Where in the forest, I wonder, is a place drier than this? My
shelter springs one leak after another as I struggle to keep the camera dry.
Germain, who drives our van, comes to the rescue at 4:30 - he carries my heavy 500mm lens
up the steep wet hillside without disaster. At the lodge I dry off and enjoy a cup
of coffee as the rains continue.