A Search in the Cloud Forest

It’s hard to describe an encounter with the Resplendent Quetzal in the high reaches of the Costa Rican Mountains. But Lindell Haggin gives it a try.

By Lindell Haggin
The almost unimaginably beautiful Quetzal is found at high elevations in the cloud forests of Central America, where the moist air rising from the oceans encounters the much cooler temperatures of the upper mountains. I’m here, in the highlands above the mid-Pacific coast of Costa Rica, following our guide, Edwin, as we trek toward an old growth oak forest near the headwaters of the Savegre River.
At a mile and a half above sea level long sleeved t-shirts and a fleece jacket actually feel good. The crisp, chilly air up here is quite a contrast with the warmth of the coastal areas – 82°F and 82% humidity.
We get a ride up to the 9,000 foot level to start our birding for the day. This is an old growth oak forest and the understory is quite open. Among the vegetation is the favorite food source of the Quetzal, the native avocado tree.  The fruits on these trees are only about an inch in diameter. Hiking a rugged loop back to the jeep trail we come across a “pilot” bird leading its mixed band of birds.  The “pilot” is typically a Tanager of some species finding food at locations along a circuit.  A variety of birds join the flock for a period of time and then drop out as they wish.  It’s really quite exciting to have all this activity of every color and size of bird surrounding you.

Here in the mountains of Costa Rica we see thick jungle vegetation and towering oak forests like the one we’re approaching in hopes of seeing a Quetzal. Each location holds an abundance of birds if you know where to look.  Edwin knows where to look.

I have a passion for birds and, as with other devoted birders, the list of avian species I’ve seen and heard over the years is well into the hundreds. There are some birds you might not ever notice, like the Bewick’s Wren, that I enjoy when our paths cross, and there are others that I never get tired of seeing, like the Black-headed Grosbeak that frequent the trees near our home on the Little Spokane River. It never fails to amaze me that almost every time I go out birding I see something new among the flora and/or fauna.  Of course, another marvelous facet to bird-watching, as an avocation, is that it draws you to faraway places you might not otherwise think to go.
When I was in Peru three years ago I’d gotten a taste of the color and variety of birds found in a tropical setting.  However, since we were working on a bird-banding project on a partially restored piece of land in the headwaters of the Amazon, the variety of habitats was limited and I didn’t have time to focus exclusively on birding. So, for me, this trip to Costa Rica was a chance of a lifetime. It was two weeks of pure birding, covering a wide range of habitats, led by, Edwin, whose organization (the Foundation for the Protection and Conservation of the La Paz River and Surrounding Forests) is working to restore habitat in the Central Valley.
Costa Rica is wedged between Panama to the south and Nicaragua to the north. It is quite mountainous, with several volcanoes, one of which has been continuously active since the mid-60’s. The Pacific slope has two seasons, the dry season (which ends in April) and the wet season.  The Caribbean slope also has two seasons, the wet season and the wetter season.  We’ve been staying at areas from sea level to 7,000 feet in elevation.  We see thick jungle vegetation and towering oak forests like the one we’re approaching in hopes of seeing a Quetzal.  Each location holds an abundance of birds if you know where to look. Fortunately for us, Edwin knows where to look.

In preparation for a trip like this, most birders will get a field guide, peruse it carefully and determine some “target” birds that you just cannot do without. The national bird of Costa Rica is the Clay-colored Thrush.  It’s basically a Robin without the red breast.  You see it everywhere.  It is not generally considered a “target” bird. One of the target birds of virtually every birder who goes to Costa Rica is the Resplendent Quetzal.

In order to get to the Quetzal nest, we need to hike about 600 meters up the jeep trail. In the moment, the anticipation of seeing one or more of these splendid birds is hard to put into words. But always in the back of my mind, is the grim knowledge that global climate change and habitat destruction are both working against the long-term survival of these birds.
There is a reason that the Quetzal is referred to as the Resplendent Quetzal. It was worshipped by the Mayans, and for good reason. The body of the male is about 14 inches long, with an emerald green head, back, and throat. The color of its abdomen varies from maroon to bright red. But what really sets the Quetzal apart is its tail coverts, a particular type of feather that, in most birds, is unremarkably short and covers the area of the bird’s body where the tail feathers originate.  In the Resplendent Quetzal these four striking blue-green covert feathers are 25 inches long (or longer) extending well beyond the end of the tail. When sitting on an open branch, they flow elegantly in the breeze. When inside the nest hole the ends extend out, wafting in the air currents surrounding the tree.
The Mayans would put a net in front of the hole so that when the male flew out, he would fall to the ground to be caught.  They would then remove the treasured feathers for ceremonial purposes and immediately release the bird. We were told that the penalty for harming a Quetzal was death.
The first two of us arrive at what appears to be an empty nest hole, high up in a dead tree.  Since the Quetzal does not have a very strong bill, the trees have to be fairly rotten for them to excavate a nest hole.  The opening is about 5-6 inches in diameter.  I see two such holes about 18 inches apart from one another and focus on the top hole.  After sitting and waiting for five minutes or more I see some movement from the right. Our bus driver and assistant guide Kike whispers, “It’s the Quetzal.”
I see it perch at the lower hole for a few seconds and then it disappears inside.  It’s carrying food, which means the eggs have hatched and there should be a more active pattern of movement of the adults.  After ten to fifteen minutes everyone else has arrived at the site.
It’s easy to tell which hole is occupied as the “tail” feathers are extending 12-14 inches out of the hole.  Now we have 10 or more people standing around looking up expectantly with binoculars or cameras at the ready, hoping to get a view of this rare and elegant bird.  Occasionally, someone whispers to their neighbor or looks down at their watch to see how much time has passed.  Despite the great variety of birds in the area, there are remarkably few bird songs to disrupt the silence.  After almost an hour of intense focus on the nesting tree someone notices some movement to the left.  It’s the female and she’s carrying food.  She gives a quiet signal to the male that she has arrived.  Soon we see his green head and shoulders sticking out the hole.  I’m afraid he’s going to disappear as quickly as he arrived, so try to imprint his image into my memory.
After a minute or so he flies out of the hole and she quickly flies in.  Fortunately, he stays in the area moving to several different perches.  One of the perches is a bare branch that hangs out over the valley.  He is sitting with his back to us, the sun making its feathers gleam. His tail hangs elegantly in the breeze which blows the feathers in slow lazy circles.  In my memory, the image is indelible.  The Quetzal then flies off to gather more food as does the female after spending less than five minutes in the hole.  After quiet exclamations at the marvelous site, we begin our hike down to the lodge.  Now that we’ve had food for the soul we need some food to sustain the body.
The next day we start off early for our next destination.  Before we have traveled very far on the dirt road, we notice a number of people in the road all peering to one side.  Our small bus pulls to the side and we join the throng.  Apparently there is another Quetzal nesting site nearby.  Both male and female birds are frantically being pointed out.   Another guide is whistling incessantly, apparently imitating the call of the Quetzal.  Cameras are going off, many with flashes.  Rather than elegant and resplendent, the birds looked harassed.  I can’t imagine them nesting at this site again.
I wonder if the Mayans could see us now, what our fate would be