Ecuador Part 1

I am shocked this trip happened. When Sydney was born, I expected about 2 years of not doing a birding focused trip, but I have a very supportive and amazing wife who encouraged me to take a solo trip. After making sure she was sure, I started making some spreadsheets and zeroed in on Ecuador. Ecuador has always been a dream destination, and is frequently argued as the single best country in the world to go birding in. Ranked #5 in total species, it is much more compact and about 1/4 the size of the next biggest country in the top 5. It also has a reputation for having good tourism infrastructure. While places like Peru or Colombia can require 8+ hours of transport between sites, you can go from Quito to the high Andes to the Amazon in around 4 hours! This was going to be a great place for me to plan my first ever solo road trip in a foreign country.

Golden Tanager

The hardest part was deciding where to go. 8 days of birding is tough to narrow down because there is limitless opportunity. I had to go to the town of Mindo, a birding Mecca on the west slope of the Andes. Being a hoe for high elevation, Paramo is one of the habitats I was most interested in birding so getting up in the Andes was a must. However, the east slope of the Andes has some incredible places, there's interesting birds in both the extreme north and south, like in Jorupe and Jocotoco. I was only able to knock off Galapagos (Christina wants to go there) and the Amazon (I didn't want to sweat that much). It took months of reading trip reports, but I finally was able to pare my list down to an 8-day itinerary.                                    

The travel to Ecuador was pretty easy, which would mostly be a theme for the whole trip. The least convenient thing about traveling there is the timing of flights. Pretty much every flight landed after midnight (and left at around 1 AM). I got through customs by about 12:30 and was in bed at the Quito Airport Suites by about 1:30.

The hotel was cheap with a free and amazing breakfast, and there were even llamas on the ground! Eared Doves flew around the trees, but I was fueled up and on a mission. I had to leave for Reserva Mashpi Amagusa.

I chose Mashpi Amagusa because it had the perfect combo of a lot of birds, range-restricted birds, and my favorite birding habitat, cloud forest. The expectations were sky-high. Besides the insanely swanky Mashpi Lodge, this is the place to see Moss-backed Tanager. Besides northwest Ecuador, there is one place in far southern Colombia to find them, but I didn't see that many birding companies visit that area. Is it because it requires a ton of effort or because Mashpi is that easy? I'd guess a combo of both off the top of my head. There's also the stunning Glistening-green Tanager. It isn't as rare, but still pretty restricted to the west slope of the Andes. Lastly, we have the Indigo Flowerpiercer, another bird that is uncommon in its Colombia range but is easy to find at Mashpi Amagusa but not as common at bougie Mashpi. I gave myself 3 days and 2 nights, just in case some weather came in.

My drive was paved for most of the time, but then the road got rough. I could only go 15-20 MPH for the last hour. I was glad I got my car upgraded at the airport to a high clearance. The little towns were really quaint, and at times visibility would plummet due to a cloud passing. I felt really alive, I was roadtripping in South America!

Brown Violetear

                                

I arrived at Mashpi Amagusa in a light rain that would turn into a downpour. I fumbled my bags as I walked up to my room overlooking the feeders. There was a Glistening-green Tanager feeding right below me! I thought this downpour would kill the birding, but Sergio, the owner, told me that the birds actually disappear when the sun comes out and that the rain increased activity. 

Glistening-green Tanager

Golden-naped Tanager

Shortly after putting my stuff down I walked down to see a packed feeder. You could not have prepared me for what was in front of me. An array of colors was in front of me. My brain was short circuiting as I tried to decide which bird needed to be admired first. My binoculars settled on a Golden Tanager. I spent a few minutes thinking about a way to describe it and I just can't do it.

But that was just the beginning. Flame-faced Tanager, whose face does look like it's on fire, was next. The Glistening-green was back. I couldn't believe it. The show was stolen by one of the least colorful birds. A Moss-backed Tanager appeared. I got a view, quickly snapped a photo (not realizing how common this bird is) and stepped back in awe. Within 15 minutes I had 2/3 of my targets. Even though there was one big target to go, I felt so relaxed. I don't really like having target birds because they add pressure and take away from the birding, so it was nice to get most of what I needed.

Moss-backed Tanager

                            

By now the rain was steady, and I arrived just in time for lunch. There were feeders and a pond just below the dining area, and I could hardly eat because I was constantly checking on a new bird and snapping photos. Flame-rumped Tanagers hung out in the trees high above while Blue-and-White Swallows patrolled the skies above the pond. Rufous-throated and Golden-naped Tanagers joined the mix on the logs with the ever-present Golden Tanagers. Was I in Ecuador, or did my plane crash and I was in heaven?

Flame-faced Tanager

                                

After a quick lunch I popped by the hummingbird feeders, not expecting much in the increasing rain. It was here that I met a common, but enthralling hummingbird for the first time, the Velvet-purple Coronet. You better be a good-looking bird with a name like that, and it was. Neotropical hummingbirds have a habit of looking vastly different in varying degrees of like, but the Velvet-purple Coronet took this to a completely different level. Even in the weak lighting, a small shift brought out a different shade of purple and green. They were relatively large as well, and their colors were accompanied by a loud buzz as they took off to defend their perch.

Velver-purple Coronet

                          

They weren't the only hummingbirds there. Violet-tailed Sylph, another hummingbird that embodies the craziness of South American birds, was silently hanging around the feeders. The small but fearless Purple-bibbed Whitetip tried its best to get some food and a lone Brown Inca popped in and out of view occasionally. I tried to bounce around between feeders, but it always felt so wrong to leave one setup to the other.

It was a good thing I left, though. As I walked to other feeder I saw my last major target: Indigo Flowerpiercer. The Indigo Flowerpiercer is less range-restricted than Moss-backed Tanager, but it is still a tough bird to pin down globally, except here. Mashpi Amagusa is probably the best place in the world to see it and I was determined to get it. While it was supposedly easy to see, I had a fleeting glimpse and did not get nearly the enough time that I wanted to admire it. I didn't think it would be a big deal due to the eBird bar charts making it seem automatic, but I wouldn't see it again. 

Smoke-colored Peweee

Crimson-rumped Toucanet

That's 3/3 of my targets on day 1, which was an unexpected, but welcome feeling. I got the important birds that will be hard to find again, and now I could focus on some other targets that may be harder to find but more accessible around the world. The pressure that I put on myself was off. I tend to hype up where I'm going before leaving to people, and so I feel like I have to see the big stuff. Now that the  (unnecessary) pressure was off, and I could just enjoy the birds for the birds.

This freedom coincided with me immediately noticing other birds on the periphery. Some of the more skulking birds, like White-throated Quail-Dove, were more visible now. The under-rated bird of the day was Pacific Tuftedcheek. This funky furnariid looks pretty mid in the field guide. I knew what it looked like and didn't see it as much more than a tick, but the Pacific Tuftedcheek in real life will knock your socks off. The tufts on the cheek, combined with the crisp looks of the back and breast were magnified by the larger than expected size of the bird. There was a nest on the property, so fortunately I would get to see this breeding pair often.

Red-headed Barbet

                                

New birds trickled in, but there was one more surprise. I heard a shout that ever birder knows. It's the "I saw a good bird and want to get your attention without scaring it off" type of shout. I silently but quickly walked over to the other feeder and had to stop myself from passing out. TOUCAN BARBET!

Toucan Barbet was one of my gateway drugs to neotropical birding. When I loaded up on bird books on that fateful first Princeton Press sale, Birds of Peru was one of the books that I got. In there I saw Mountain-toucans, Scarlet-bellied Mountain-tanager, and Toucan Barbet, and I told myself I had to get down there.

Toucans and barbets are adjacent to each other in the field guide and are in the same order, although they are different families. I won't even try to describe Toucan Barbet, just look at it. How could not see this bird in a book and not get hyped about being alive? What a kickass animal. This was a target of mine, but I wasn't expecting to get it here. After a few photos, I sat back and enjoyed it. As great as it looks in pictures, trust me, you have to see it in person. It was also snapping its bill, which you can't replicate with a field guide description.

Toucan Barbet

                              

As the sun went down and dinner approached, I just couldn't pry myself away from birds in the failing light. I sat on the patio while a flock of 10 or so Rose-faced Parrots ate bananas out of a tree. I couldn't believe this was my life. Rain was at this point pouring, thunder was clapping, and here I was just chilling with some amazing parrots and I patiently got to study all of their incredible detail.

Rose-faced Parrot

                                

After 10 hours of sleep, I woke up before the sun. Sergio sets up a moth sheet at night, and at dawn the birds feast on lingering moths. The usual suspects were out, but they were joined by an array of species. A highlight was a group of 3 Dark-backed Wood-Quail that were eating. Barred Becards flitted around the trees, and some Collared Trogons came down to eat. I have never seen a feeder setup like this. 

Collared Trogon

Black-chinned Mountain-Tanager

I have to pause here to shout out the food. The breakfast I had here was the breakfast of the trip. In general, I found the food in Ecuador to be pretty simple but fresh and prepared fantastically. My breakfast that morning was sliced ham, an Ecuadorian version of pepperoni, eggs, and something like a biscuit. All the juices served were from freshly picked fruit. That wasn't just Mashpi Amagusa, it was all of Ecuador. The food rocked.

After breakfast I went down to the tower with Sergio. We had both Orange-breasted and Scaled Fruiteater on our way down, and it was hard to make downhill progress because of all the birds we were seeing. We had Swallow Tanagers on our way down, and the tower suddenly rose up out of nowhere. The 90-foot tower was really well concealed in the forest. I then realized just how high 90 feet was. 

Swallow Tanager

                            

The tower loomed above us and swayed ever so slightly as we climbed the stairs. My stomach turned. I HATE heights. But getting up in the canopy was worth it. A new world opened up. And the view. My goodness. Once we got above the treetops I could see for miles down the valley. The rush from the fear mixed with the rush from the beauty created a feeling that I chase when I travel. I was intensely satisfied.

The birding was pretty good, too. It was mostly the usual suspects, but we got our major target: Choco Vireo. Choco Vireo is another range range-restricted bird found in Colombia (where it is very rare) and then at Mashpi-Amagusa. It wasn't something I really expected to get, so I was thrilled. 

Black Solitaire

We walked all the way back to the road to look for solitaires. I was really hoping for Black Solitaire. Although we heard it, it remained very elusive as we looked for some other targets. We ended up finding it by luck. There were a pair of Andean Solitaires, a lifer, that I was admiring, when a Black Solitaire flew up behind it. Again, better than the field guide.

In the afternoon I ventured down the road to Sacha Guatusa. At a lower elevation and closer to the coast, it has a few species that are very hard to find globally. This would be my best chance to see them. The reserve is very small with a short trail and feeder, but it packs a punch. I sat down at the feeders and once again had no idea where to look.

Green Honeycreeper

Pale-manibled Aracari

The tanagers once again stole the show. My eyes were immediately drawn to Bay-headed Tanager, another one of those birds I first noticed years ago when the neotropics came on my radar. The large Palm Tanager was next. Emerald Tanager, another secondary target, mixed with Golden Tanager and Green Honeycreeper to create a kaleidoscope on the main log. Yellow-throated Toucan and Pale-mandibled Aracari watched from above. It's always a good day when I mention an Aracari in passing!

Emerald Tanager

Bay-headed Tanager

It took my first target a few minutes to arrive, but Gray-and-Gold Tanager eventually showed up! They have a large range, extending up into the Darien Gap in Panama, but they are sparse in that range. It's a big deal to find this. I was so focused on what was in front of me that I didn't even look to the periphery, where Orange-fronted Barbet was camping out. BOOM! 2 targets down! The barbet is a near-endemic, and this is the only reliable place in the world to see it. It never got old seeing something that you pretty much could not find anywhere else on our vast planet besides that one patch of forest.

Orange-fronted Barbet

Gray-and-Gold Tanager

My last target took a little longer. Purple-chested Hummingbird is hard to get to. You can get it outside of Cali, Colombia, but if I didn't get it today, it would feel like chasing an endemic when I ultimately get to Colombia. But I could not find it. Rufous-tailed Hummingbirds were everywhere and were getting my hopes every time I saw one. Clouds were rolling in. Time was running out. I rounded a corner and saw a hummingbird perching. My brain didn't even think. I got the binoculars on it and...PURPLE-CHESTED HUMMINGBIRD! What. A. Relief. Perfect timing, I got caught up in a storm that would rage all night as I went but the mountain. I went 6/6 on all the major targets for the area. We'll take that.    

Purple-chested Hummingbird

                            

For my last morning, I got up before the sun was up and headed up the tower. Somehow, Sergio has rigged up a moth trap in the canopy (there is nothing this man can't do!). Birds were everywhere. At this point most of them were birds I'd already seen, but there a few new ones like Black-billed Peppershrike and Streak-capped Treehunter. It's not always about the new birds, though. I got fantastic looks with White-winged Tanager, and at least 6 Golden-headed Quetzals hung out just below me. Let me tell you, looking down at a quetzal is way more fun than looking up at one, and you could not peel me away from that tower while they were still there.

Golden-headed Quetzal

White-winged Tanager

There was also a great moment with a Bronze-winged Parrot at the top of the tower that was special. The sun was up, and here I was gawking at a purple parrot. The only sound was the wind rushing by, occasionally broken by a flock of Maroon-tailed Parakeets screeching across the valley. I wanted to bird in the tropics, and I got as good of an experience as I could get. As my last day in the cloud forest, I felt a strong sense of gratitude. I did not deserve to have such an amazing experience, and I was so lucky to get to be down there. 

Bronze-winged Parrot

                            

Before leaving we made one last stop on the road to look for White-tipped Sicklebill, a hummingbird that has a funky bill because its food source is the heliconia flower. We'd looked for it in the past and missed it, and honestly I'd had such a good few days that I didn't even care if I missed it. The cloud forest continued to surprise me, even as the time ticked down. A female Long-wattled Umbrellabird flew down the mountain and gave us very cooperative views. The males have a crazy long wattle that gives them their name, but I was so gobsmacked that I didn't notice. There is a lek of them 90 minutes outside of Mindo which is the real place to see them, so I pretty much wrote off seeing one. Now I got to see a super cool bird and the logistics of future trips got a lot easier!

Long-wattled Umbrellabird

                            

We had to run to the sicklebill site. It pretty much never shows up after noon, and the umbrellabird and a globally rare Rufous-brown Solitaire held up the group. I think they were just giving it time to show up, because we got to see it after a short wait. A strange looking bird feeding on a strange looking flower was the perfect way to wrap my time up here. I had over 100 birds in the area, and I missed only one secondary target, Olive Finch, while securing dozens of others.

White-tipped Sicklebill

                            

Mashpi Amagusa is the best birding lodge I've ever been to, and I can't imagine any lodge topping it. It is a must visit for a first time in Ecuador. Time to go to Mindo!

2025 Year In Review

2025 was the least successful birding year of my short birding career. The lack of blog posts would give you a clue of that, but just to quantify it, I only got 2 lifers this year. 2. Eurasian Crag Martin and Italian Sparrow. Am I even a birder anymore?

Yes, I still am. Not only that, but I think I will look back on 2025 as one of the most successful birding years yet. That might sound insane, but this year has built the foundation of some amazing future birding. That's because of two people, Christina and Sydney.

I only had 2 lifers, but we added 2 new countries in Italy and San Marino

Big plans were made in May 2024. Christina and I were going to go to Turkey and Romania. We were thinking about going to Madagascar in 2025. We were shocked to put those plans on hold when we found out Christina was pregnant. That led to some recalibrations not just for travels but for our life. Obviously, having a baby means that for a least a few years, life was going to slow down. That includes weekend trips, nights out, etc. Honestly, it was really hard to come to terms with, but I didn't know how fruitful it would be, even at the expense of birding for a year.

February 27 was the best day of the year

                                          

The most important thing that this led to was a deepening of my faith. I had this insane plan of making a bunch of money fast so that I could retire young and just go birding. Previously, Christina and I were always traveling over the weekends, and slowing down meant that we spent more time going to church and more time pondering the Bible. It was extremely fulfilling, and I realized that the way I was pursuing birding was making it a false idol, as I was focused on making more money but also by being selfish with my time. I've dealt with some guilt, too, in my pursuit of birding this year that I am making progress on. It's been a lot, but it's progress that I needed to make, and I am grateful for Sydney forcing me to slow down. Previous birding trips involved a lot of anxiety about maximizing my time and species seen, but that has really eased. My limited birding this year has been focused on enjoying the birds and it's way healthier. I wrote about this years ago, but I had a very profound spiritual moment at the top of Eielson Visitor Center in Denali. I missed Northern Wheatear and Gyrfalcon on that day, but I left feeling so incredible. Those are the moments I want to chase now. 

Lincoln's Sparrow at Harry Moss Park

A big prayer of mine has been to balance birding with my faith, especially for some conservation services opportunities to open up. Through talking with people at our church, as well as this deepening of my faith, I feel a lot more at peace with God's plan, and I think I am much more balanced now. After a lot of reflection and prayer, Christina and I have come up with an outline where I could become a birding guide down the line. I still don't know how my birding will evolve and if those bird guide dreams will come to fruition, but God forcing me to slow down has put me more at peace, and some insanely cool opportunities that otherwise would not have been there without Sydney have come up.

A bad pic of Prothonotary Warbler at Mineola Nature Preserve

Life slowing down meant that this was a good time to start studying for the CFA exams. No, not Chick-Fil-A, Chartered Financial Analyst. For my job, it is the gold standard and is more valuable than an MBA or CPA. It's 3 exams that require at least 300 hours per exam, and I read somewhere that like 10% of people that sign up for level 1 will get their charter. The exams are taken in windows, and you can take each at most twice a year if the timing works out. So, the pressure is really high, but success can mean a lot for my career and these aforementioned dreams of a balanced early retirement. Studying for that, especially with a baby, is very time consuming and has also kept me off the trails. The CFA, not Sydney, has been the source of at least 90% of my stress, probably more. It's HARD, and I am only doing it because of Sydney. Before Christina got pregnant, I said I would never do it because of horror stories. But since I knew I had some extended time where I would not be as busy, this was a good time to do it.

Blue Grosbeak at Trinity River Audubon Center

In January of this year, I got news that I passed level 1. Immediately, I started studying for level 2, which is by far the hardest level. Sydney was born in February, so I prepped for and took my August exam with a 6-month-old, which makes me even more proud of my passing. While my last exam is not until August 2026, there is light at the end of the tunnel. For something that felt so impossible, I am so thankful to be where I am. There is no way I am at this point with the support of Christina. Once again, her support is doing things to get me on more birds.

Black-and-white Warbler at Dogwood Canyon Audubon Center

In early March, just as I was able to get out of the house, my dad I participated in a Golden-cheeked Warbler survey at Dogwood Canyon Audubon Center, a place where I occasionally lead walks. We found some, and on top of really good views, I parlayed it into leading dedicated walks to see the warblers throughout the Spring. I got some conservation-oriented volunteering, and I also got really valuable experience for potential guiding dreams. The funny thing is, my friends were in Houston for the rodeo, something I would have done with them in the alternate universe where we didn't have Sydney. I would not have had this opportunity without her.

Golden-cheeked Warbler at Dogwood Canyon Audubon Center

Sydney was very helpful with the GCWA walk prep

Sydney and I have flipped through a ton of bird books together, and she is nearly at the age where zoo trips are going to start happening. Obviously, her entire family is smitten with her. I am hoping to turn her into a built-in birding buddy, and hopefully she will want to spend a week birding a national park instead of a Disney cruise when she is 6 (a man can dream). How can her mom or grandparents say no to that? Her grandparents probably have no desire to go birding in Kazakhstan, but maybe they would go if Sydney told them she was dying to see an Altai Snowcock?

                                          

Mom even got in on the action!

                                        

Also, at the end of September and in early October, I went to Italy and San Marino with Sydney, Christina, and my in-laws. There was a minimal amount of birding done, but I got two new countries in Italy and San Marino (a major addition on my side quest to visit every country in the world), had a lot of fun, and still got to enjoy great views of Eurasian Blue Tit. I still felt very at peace walking through the hills above Florence. And 2 lifers are 2 lifers, even if you get them at the Ponte Vecchio. While I always try to make my travel work around the birds, I enjoyed not having it be the focus, and it showed me how much fun a non-birding trip can be. I still got a lot of fulfillment out of it, and it is reshaping the way I look at 2026.

Squid in San Marino

There was a really cool opportunity that I got in October of this year, when I got to guide an Australian woman for the day who was on a layover. My first real guiding opportunity! It was a lot of fun, and we covered a lot of ground, as well as getting her some lifers. I was far from perfect and was operating on a stomach bug, but I got some great experience. It's not always about the birds, but the connection with people from all over the world that makes me love travel as much as I do. 

Gray Catbird at Mineola Nature Preserve

As 2025 ends, I think I have built the foundation of something that is going to be fruitful. My spiritual and mental health have seen major improvements, and I feel like my birding dreams have more purpose. There are a lot of options as 2026 begins. In May I will be going on another birding trip. I don't know where yet, but Armenia/Azerbaijan/eastern Turkey or Mindo, Ecuador are the frontrunners. My dad wants to visit every state park in Texas, so we will work on that. Christina and I are deciding whether we want to try to do Taiwan or Easter Island. There is also some time for a few long weekends, so some domestic places like SE Arizona, Great Basin, or a Half Moon Bay pelagic are all being considered.

Easter Island prep?

The above dreams may come to fruition, they may not. I may change directions and go or do something else. All I know is that I can't wait to go birding with the people that I love most in the world, and after a year of being on the sidelines, I am really pumped to get back to some blog posts and some more writing. 2025 was slow, but it will mean that 2026 and beyond is going to be even better than expected. 

Ended the year on a high note with a Dallas County Burrowing Owl

Consider this your open invitation to go birding with me!

Birds and Butterflies in Central Mexico

Mexico is one of my favorite countries in the world. There’s a lot of shade that unfairly comes Mexico’s way. It’s close to the United States and the integration of Mexican culture in the US means it doesn’t feel as exotic as other foreign countries, and there are the (way overblown) perceived security issues.

Let’s set the record straight: Mexico kicks ass and, especially for nature travel, is extremely underrated. Name your environment and it’s there. Deserts, jungles, cloud forests, and everything in between allow for a rich variety of bird life. The geography with the high peaks and wide variety of habitat has created a hotbed for endemism too. Mexico ranks 11th in the world for the amount of bird species it has. 9 of the countries above it are either touching or within spitting distance of the equator and the other is China. So yeah, Mexico is teeming with opportunities to see some gnarly wildlife.

This time I wanted to get into the mountains and chase some of the endemics. I got a tip to stay near the Monarch Butterfly sanctuaries, as they weren’t far from Mexico City and also had good birding. I was kind of meh on the butterflies but I’ll take a lodge with walking access to trails! Plus, Mexico City was #1 on my city hit list. I booked a stay at Cerro Pelon in Macheros, which is a 30 minute drive from Zitacuaro, a 2.5 hour bus ride from Mexico City.  

                                                                                                                                                                                   

Dreamy birds like Mountain Trogon, Crescent-Chested Warbler, Bumblebee Hummingbird, and the iconic Red Warbler awaited me. 

Traveling from Oklahoma City, weather in Houston meant that I arrived in CDMX hungry, stressed, and exhausted at 1 AM. A morning torta in Roma Norte fixed the hunger in the morning, but I was still worried about the logistics of getting to Macheros. I’d read online the bus station wasn’t in the best part of town and I was really worried about some kind of logistics issue with the bus that would delay me.

None of the concerns materialized. In fact, it was a breeze and the only issue was my credit card didn’t work and I had to pay cash. I walked up, bought my ticket, and was on the road 30 minutes later! The drive was great, and I easily got a taxi in Zitacuaro. All in all, the price of the bus and taxi was $80 roundtrip. EZ.

Slate-throated Redstart

Macheros is more of a village than a small town right on the border of Michoacán and Estado de Mexico. There is one restaurant in town and no cell service. At 7,400 feet, it is surrounded by mountains that eclipse 11,000 feet and is surrounded by incredible pine-oak woodlands, which are one of my favorite habitats to bird. I had 1 full day here and another half day. The full day was set aside to go see the Monarchs, which when I booked were walkable and I would get to see birds while on the hike.

Macheros, Mexico

After putting my stuff down, I hit the trail. At 3:30, the birding was bound to be suboptimal, and it was made worse by one of the dogs at the lodge deciding to accompany me up to the lookout. I loved the company, even if her chasing squirrels through the woods scared off birds. It was great to just be outside in the cool mountain air. I found some good spots to look for birds in the morning and even got lifers with Mexican Violetear, White-eared Hummingbird, and Hermit Warbler! At sunset I had a thrush. Merlin picked up Hermit Thrush, but my initial reaction was Russet Nightingale-Thrush. Upon further review, I couldn't count it. The thrush flew away so quickly that I could not get a picture, and the bill looked off to me. I couldn't in good conscience count it.  

Mexican Violetear

Overall, the birding was challenging due to the thick vegetation and tall trees. My warbler targets would be largely obscured, and it would be hard to find good vantage points. It was nowhere near as difficult as tropical lowlands, but it still wasn't easy.

Like all things in birding travel, plans change. For the second year in a row, the Monarchs went to a different part of the massive reserve. Hiking wasn’t an option and we would have to drive 90 minutes up a different mountain to find them. Ugh, the butterflies were supposed to be a bonus and the focus on the birds, not the other way around! A nature documentary on Mexico caused me to reevaluate my feelings. It turns out, seeing the butterflies is less of a cool experience and more of a spectacle. With some backup birding options in Mexico City, I was gonna roll with it.

Gray Silky-Flycatcher

                              

The butterfly tour began at 9, which actually allowed me to bird the nearby trail beforehand. It was in the mid-40s and the forest started to wake up juuuust as I had to leave, causing me to hear a lot more than I saw. Still, I had some highlights of Yellow-eyed Junco, Wilson’s Warbler, and Greater Pewee. It was impossible to get high up the hill, which I would later find out was the place to go, due to the tantalizing calls of Gray Silky-Flycatcher and Brown-backed Solitaire. 

Hepatic Tanager

The ride to the butterflies took a long time. It was 45 minutes by van, where we then got in a cattle car for another 45 minutes up a bumpy dirt road. The forest was nearly pristine, and it was killing me to not be able to stop and look for birds. This better be worth it.

It was.

As we got higher, we started to see individual Monarchs that were flying alongside us, as if they were guiding us. We topped out just below the tree line at over 11,000 feet. When we got there, we were told by the guide that the forest we were in was inaccessible to the public. Because of that we would get 45 minutes with the butterflies, as opposed to the 18 minutes at El Rosario and other popular reserves. I stumbled upon a gold mine.

                         

 

Seeing the Monarchs is one of the craziest things I have ever seen in my life. They cling to fir trees overnight and need it to be about 55° before their body temperature warms up enough to fly. As a result, it's better to get there later in the morning to give them time to warm up before taking off. The side of the mountain matters as well. The western side of the mountain takes longer to warm up.                                                                                                

                           

I'd seen them briefly on a National Geographic documentary, so I somewhat knew what was coming, but I was still thankfully underprepared for what lay ahead of me. Spirits were high in the group until we approached what looked to be a dead or dying tree. It was brown, the leaves were discolored, and the branches were drooping a little bit. 

The tree was very much alive. Those brown leaves were Monarchs, and the branches were drooping because so many were hanging onto them. The sun had not fully hit them enough to wake them up, but looking through the binoculars I saw tens of thousands of butterflies on one tree, with the striking orange wings with black veins overlapping each other as the competed for every square millimeter.

                          

My jaw hit the floor. I'm butterfly-curious at best and that left me unprepared for the sight in front of me. It was jarring. The group felt the same. The cheerful conversation came to abrupt stop, and silence lingered for the entire 45 minutes that we were there. 

Butterflies fluttered overhead, they clung to trees, and they landed on all of us. Similar to migration fallout on the coast, we had to be careful not to step on any of them. Quite literally, there were at least a million. It wasn't the sight that was the craziest thing, it was the sound. You could hear the butterflies flying around you and in the sky. There were so many of them that there was no room for birds.

Pictures you can hear

Think about the biggest beehive you've ever seen. Now replace that with Monarch Butterflies (and maybe a little less sound). That was what we were experiencing. The word "spectacle" gets thrown around a lot, maybe too much, but this was truly a spectacle. Before the trip I could have skipped this experience. Now, this is something that everyone, even non-nature enthusiasts, should have on their bucket list. Everything from the journey to the actual experience exceeded my most optimistic expectations.                                                                                                                                      

Something that was gnawing at me was that I hadn't really felt connected to nature in a while. The Panamanian highlands was the last time I felt that way. I felt connected again on that mountain. It was good to be back at it!

Leaving felt like a crime, but it had to happen. Our 2-hour trip home left me little time to bird, but I stuck the tips I got from Joel on where to see my targets. Unsurprisingly, I rolled snake eyes in the late afternoon. I had until 11 the next morning, and I needed to make it count.

I woke up early and skipped breakfast in order to maximize my time on the trail and I was moving before the sun came up at 7:15. I only had 3.5 hours.

That's no moss, those are all Monarchs

The forest was very quiet and took time to wake up, probably until at least 8. There I was, below the oak tree where the trail forks in 3 directions. I'd seen Hermit, Yellow-rumped, Nashville, and Orange-crowned in that tree already. But none of my targets.

A distant call perked my ears up. It sounded like a trogon. I replayed the call on Merlin, definitely a Mountain Trogon. Here we go. I played the call as loud as my phone would go. We got a response, and I inched closer. There was a huge clearing that was being farmed, and the trogon was calling somewhere around there. I got within 50 feet of it, and after a long silence the call started again farther away. We were trying to find each other! 

After 20 minutes I saw movement. This had to be it. I searched and searched, eyeing the red breast of a Mountain Trogon as it flew off yet again. Sprinting around a mountain at 7,000+ feet should exhaust you, but my adrenaline was PUMPING. I saw it, but only enough to get fleeting glimpses before it went quiet. That was enough for me, 1 target down! Now I was missing Green-striped Brushfinch, Bumblebee Hummingbird, Crescent-chested Warbler, and the most prized one of all, Red Warbler. It was now 8:45.

At this point I resolved to get to the point that Scott Olmstead mentioned in his checklists 7 years ago. I'd stop for any flocks, but the higher up I got, the more likely I felt like I would find my targets. Time to hustle.

White-eared Hummingbird

Moving fast, I sped through the quiet forest, up to the other patch of oaks that I found earlier where things got incredibly steep. Basically, running, I startled 2 birds on the ground. The shade from the trees meant the ground was dark and these birds scurried off into the brush, but not before they could properly be identified! The biggest give aways were the low positioning and the bright white throat. Green-striped Brushfinch, my 5th most wanted target of the trip! I had #2 and #5 and had to keep going up.

Huffing and puffing, I reached the mirador. A short walk away was a relatively open clearing in the sun. The first bird I saw was Tufted Flycatcher. Sitting on an exposed branch, it would flutter and then flip to a steep dive before returning to its perch. The sunlight meant things were more active. The path went for maybe .15 miles before the point where I turned around. But this whole path was full of birds. Hummingbirds were different up here, just a few hundred feet above where the lodge was. White-eared Hummingbirds and Mexican Violetears were replaced with Blue-throated Mountain-gems and Rivoli's Hummingbirds. 

Tufted Flycatcher

I kept getting hung up on warblers that turned out to be Yellow-rumped, Nashville, or Orange-crowned. It was getting to be time to turn around, but I kept meticulously checking the warblers. One was different. Yellow breast, red smudge... could it be? Distinctive white eyebrow stripe! That's it!!! Crescent-chested Warbler! Relief washed over me. This is a mega in the United States, with a few Arizona records and 2 in Texas, but ever since I've been a birder I've wanted to see one of these because an adventure would be required to see one (and they look freaking sick). As cool as it would have to see one at Ramsey or Boot Canyon, seeing one in Mexico was much cooler.

Nashville Warbler

With 60% of my targets and 45 minutes to spare, I was feeling good. I could stake out each oak patch for 15 minutes or so before I had to be back. Coming down instead going up was much easier, too, because I could see the treetops below me with a better vantage point.

I hit the first oak patch and sat on a rock with a perfect view of everything below me. My birding senses were tingling. Something felt right. 5 minutes of silence was all they needed. A flock moved in. This was my chance. In a sea of brown and dark green, my eyes locked onto a whisp of red like a missile. My heart rate went up as I fumbled with the binoculars.

Sitting there in my binoculars was one of the prettiest birds in the world, a Red Warbler. Solid red with bright white cheeks, this was a top 10 most wanted bird in the world for me. They are endemic to the Mexican highlands and were my motivation for coming to this area of the country. And they're stunning enough to make a birder out of anyone. It moved too much to get a picture through the trees, but I got a good few minutes to admire it, which is all that matters. In the span of 3 hours, I went from 0 to 4 of my targets.

The fun wasn't over. I didn't make it 200 yards before I found another flock. So much was moving around me. I finally got eyes on my lifer Gray Silky-Flycatcher, as well as tons of other warblers including another Crescent-chest. I tried to snipe one that was moving, but I realized I had the wrong warbler. This one was much brighter in the face, golden even, with a rufous triangular patch. No way, Golden-browed Warbler! I was in birding ecstasy. I spent 10 minutes soaking in views of both before a third incredible warbler entered the flock. Long time readers will know that Red-faced was my most wanted ABA bird from when I started birding. I saw tons in Arizona, but I missed them. Now, my thirst for one was quenched as I got to see another, very cooperative Red-faced Warbler. Incredible, I haven't had a birdgasm like this in a long time. 

The only miss I had was Bumblebee Hummingbird, but it was on none of the checklists for the area I birded. People got them on the hike in the butterfly sanctuary, which was not an option for me. I had zero pain given how incredible my experience with Red Warbler was. 

Red-faced Warbler (Cheating and using a pic I got from Arizona)

The last 24 hours had been a whirlwind. One of the best nature experiences of my life was followed by epic birding and cleanup at the last second of my targets. In hindsight I should have spent another day up here, but Mexico City has been the #1 city in the world on my hitlist for a while so I wanted to maximize my time there. Knowing what I know about Mexico City closing on Mondays, I would have definitely stayed.

Getting back to CDMX was much easier than I thought it would be. I arranged to get picked up by the guy who dropped me off, and he took me directly to the bus station in Zitacuaro. The first counter I went to had a bus leaving in an hour and a half. I went to the next one, they had one leaving in 5 minutes. Credit cards did not work and I had to pay cash, which is the only heads up I can give. Arriving at the bus station I immediately hopped into an Uber and got to my hotel in Condensa. Don't let people scare you - the only stressful thing was making sure I could pee before my bus left. 

Curve-billed Thrasher

The most frustrating part of the trip came the next day, Monday. All of the museums are closed on Mondays, and I had 2 days in the city. Monday was going to be my birding day and Tuesday was going to be my museum day. Having learned my lesson from Kuching and Buenos Aires, I checked on the opening times of Bosque de Tlalpan before and was relieved to see they were 365 days! That was pre-Covid, and the website I found was not updated. Now it is also closed on Mondays, which I learned when I did a last second check before calling my Uber. Frustratingly, I went to the botanical garden at UNAM to look for Hooded Yellowthroat. Guess what - it was closed for construction even though their website mentioned nothing about construction! Maddening, but it wasn't meant to be. Spending a day walking to and from the Zocalo and getting more familiar with Mexico City was a good consolation prize.

Black-throated Gray Warbler

That meant Tuesday, 12/31, was going to be a packed day. I was so happy with my Macheros birding that I didn't have any real targets besides maybe pictures of Red Warbler. That meant my major priority was the Museo de Antropologia, which is considered one of the best museums in the world. Originally I planned to go the Templo Mayor museum and Bellas Artes, but those would have to wait until I could come back with Christina. Despite the museum interest, I was here for birds, and it was time to see what Bosque de Tlalpan had to offer.

The park is very popular with joggers. The main trails are a little too busy for birds, but the side trails offer a ton. Getting there right as the sun was warming things was a great move. Things were initially due to a very vocal Broad-winged Hawk. I walked through about 75% of the park, and the best part was when I hit a scrubby side trail that was so full of birds that I stayed on it for at least an hour. Nashville and Yellow-rumped Warblers dominated, but every scan brought in another new bird. It felt like a migration day on the Texas coast, as there were 8 warblers in this flock, highlighted by a stunning Townsend's and Black-throated Gray, which is only the second one I have ever seen.

Blue Mockingbird

The sun woke the birds up, and they were very active. The little hill looked out over one of the bougie areas of CDMX and the mountains loomed in the background. My expectations were being exceeded. And just when you think it can't get any better, it does. A lifer Blue Mockingbird was out in the open! After spending 5 hours looking for a vagrant at Carlsbad Caverns, it was nice to get one, and a great looking bird at that. The layered feather look, combined with the black mask and matted blue color was something no other mockingbird could imitate. Our Northern Mockingbirds would seethe with envy. 

Rivoli's Hummingbird from SE Arizona

The Blue Mockingbird's scene was over, but the nemesis theme was not done. There was a tough female oriole to identify, but I eventually was able to get it - Bullock's! While a female Bullock's Oriole is not the coolest looking bird, that dull orange bird in my binoculars was one of my biggest nemesis birds that was now vanquished. Brown-headed Nuthatch, YOU are now alone atop the nemesis list. My cool down for the trail was a Scott's Oriole, which isn't much of a cool down with how it gets the juices flowing. 

Scott's Oriole

The steep hills at that elevation were exhausting to climb up, but the views got better, the forest changed, and the birds were different. It was up here that I got my first really good look at Gray Silky Flycatcher, as well as Rivoli's Hummingbird. The only miss I had up here was Mexican Chickadee, which I ran out of time to look for due to the previous excitement. I can live with that. It was time to end my birding and go to the Museo de Antropolgia, which exceeded the hype as one of the best museums in the world.

Inca Doves were all over Mexico City

I barely scratched the surface with my Mexican birding. There were plenty of endemics left in close proximity to the city that I didn't have to get to, like Black-polled Yellowthroat in Toluca or Sierra Madre Sparrow at Parque las Maravillas, and I can't wait to get back.

As for some final thoughts on the overall travel situation, because I got a lot of comments from people before I left, there were zero safety concerns. I still maintain that the only place I truly have felt unsafe is Cancun of all places. That includes walking around at night. I actually didn't go to Parque las Maravillas because I heard of safety issues, and I think that was a huge mistake based on what I know now (not that I really had time anyways). Unless you're doing something illegal or going to certain areas of Sinaloa, Mexico is completely safe.

Suadero was the best meat that I had in CDMX

Much to the chagrin of Christina, Mexico City has now taken the top spot as my favorite city in the world. I stayed in Condensa and loved it. The food scene is the best in Latin America, if not the world and the museums are top notch. Thankfully, there is much there that is left to be seen, and Christina and I will be getting there as soon as Sydney allows us to.

This shrimp chile relleno taco from El Pescadito was probably the best taco I've had in my life

Lastly, get to Macheros. Stay with Joel and Ana at Cerro Pelon B&B. We may not have Monarchs for much longer, enjoy the spectacle while you can. Birding that area is overlooked, which is a total mistake.