May 30th,
2018
Sunny,
cool at altitude, scorchingly hot with strong breeze in valley
The flat tent is covered in ice
in the morning. I suspected as much during the night for I kept wriggling my
toes to warm them up! I get up, pack most of the stuff away and place the tent
on a large boudler so that it faces the rising Sun and will thaw and dry as I
bird. The most magnificent camping spot I have ever had whilst Biking Birding,
to tarry a while, to have breakfast and admire the view, well it would be a sin
not to.
I walk down the ridge and
disturb an Andean Tinamou that calls loudly as it flies low down the slope. A
few Brown-bellied Swallows add variety to the list of birds that reflects
yesterday afternoon's species. Seventeen species seen within such a small
patch. Most of them have come to me as I have sat still against a large rock; a
tactic similar to my woodland birdwatching back when I was a teenager. Then I
would sit against a large tree and see what passed. Important to sit in front
of the tree and observe, not behind it and poke your face out! Hide your
silhouette.
On the road around nine o'clock,
I see eleven Andean Flickers before reaching the first bend. They really are a
wonderful bird and reasonably approachable. The same can be said for American
Kestrels and one almost dares me to see how close I will come to it perched on
a telegraph wire before it flies away.
The five miles or so to the
summit seems to pass quickly enough as I try to photograph fly over raptors
using the 'sports' mode on the Canon SX50 bridge camera. I haven't used this
before preferring to take single shots of birds instead of a machine gun
approach. Maybe the results for these fabulous birds of prey will persuade me
to change my approach for flying birds. The results of single shot fly pasts
have not been too good in the past. So every so often the long push is
interrupted by a Variable Hawk, a Mountain Caracara or an Aplomado Hawk. The
latter may be the same pair that I saw so amorously entangled yesterday for
they are continuing their passion for each other, this time perched upon a
telegraph wire. By staying in the shadows of some fir trees, my approach is
slow and the birds allow close views.
The push up has been delightful
because of such frequent bird encounters but it has also been tremendous
because of the amazing vista of snow-capped mountains over to the east. How
high these peaks must be in order to have such an extensive covering that shine
brilliantly in the early morning sunshine. This is by far the most magnificent
view on the tour.
At the summit of the road a
large black dog has been walking about fifty yards ahead of me, always keeping
ahead despite my offer of a cold egg and chips bap. A police car is parked
beside the road and the officer inside gets out and together we try to coax the
mangy, half starved animal to come and eat my offer. We chat as we do so and
eventually he comes and wolfs down the bap and contents but only after the
officer and I have backed off to the car. The officer, I never did ask his
name, gets out a bottle and two cups and we enjoy a cold cup of coffee, much
appreciated after such a cold night. There isn't a cloud in the sky and the Sun
is shining brightly bringing some heat but the air is still cold and I wear a
jumper and a RSPB (Royal Society for the Protection of Birds,the leading
British environmental charity) sweatshirt.
The descent begins and the road
clings to the steep sloped sides of various mountains as it circumnavigates an
immense valley. Stopping occasionally to give my hands a rest from the constant
braking, I marvel at how quickly the kilometres pass when going down and how
rapidly one one gets down. Looking back at the high roads it seems incredible
that just a few minutes ago I was there.
Trees appear again, mostly tall
Eucalyptus, and I cycle through small villages. Rounding a corner I come across
the area where the large landslide the officers yesterday so kindly warned me
about had occurred. There are workmen shovelling and a large digger moving
material away but the road is passable. Just before this devastated area there
is a long wooden shelter covered with strong blue plastic and as I approach
half a dozen women appear, each carrying some sort of food in polystyrene
trays. They immediately turn their attention to my companions and one lady
insists that I give her Tigger the Pirate. Once more I explain the significance
and importance of each of my four friends and I get off the bike and ask
whether they have some water. A young man, obviously attached in some way to a
young lady in the last compartment of the makeshift shelter, fetches me a large
mug of cold, sweet thermal tea and I sit down with them for a chat. I ask
whether it would be alright to heat up the omelettes in a two baps bought the
day before and I place them into a large frying pan on the clay stove fire. The
older lady here adds a few cut Eucalyptus sticks to the fire and places a large
piece of breadcrumb-covered chicken into the same pan. Once cooked I give one
of the omelettes to her and I buy the chicken piece with six large red potatoes
for five Soles, around £1.25. Vehicles stop every so often as I sit eating my
lunch and on doing so they are quickly surrounded by all the women asking the
driver and occupants whether they want the chicken or trout with potatoes. Six
women each carrying a tray of food and each trying to get custom yet here is no
friction between them, neither is there any turn taking. There must be some way
in which each of the ladies sells their wares and rejection must be so common
that their must be a general acceptance of it when it occurs and the unsold
food is replaced in a large metal lidded, metal post to stay hot by the fire.
On reaching one larger villages
after saying goodbye to everyone, I ask a police officer standing in the square
whether there is a hostal as I would like to bird the rest of the day. He takes
me up a steep road past a Primary School and takes me into the back garden of a
small hostel. There two ladies tell me that it is all occupied due to the workers
on the landslide. The officer tells me that there is another village with a
hotel about an hour away. I set off. A wonderful surprise is as I reach the
village plaza once more. There are the two police officers that told me about
the landslip problem. They stand and salute me as I pass!
Once more most of the route is
downhill and around yet another large valley with stupendous views. This part
of the road also has a lot of rock break down areas and I have to be careful to
concentrate as I pass rockfall after rockfall. Rather a shame to see so much
rocky debris on such a good tarmac road. The road from the village goes around
a very deep stream valley and the view back to it after a couple of kilometres
reminds me of Rhonda in southern Spain. Back in 1999, my late wife, Karen and I
had a week exploring the area of Southern Spain from Malaga to Gibraltar and
had been to Rhonda to see it's famous bridge. The view from the other side of
the valley of that bridge and the beautiful city was so memorable.
Two hours or so pass before a
final, very steep descent into the village of , so steep in fact
that I overtake a car on my way down. In fact I see the car, which I admit
wasn't going as fast as most cars, and make a sports commentary up in my head
as I catch it up. “And here comes the British Green entry and it looks as
though he could take the gold medal. Yes! There he goes. He passes the Peruvian
carbon car with ease. Here comes the finish line! It's gold for Britain.! You
get the idea.
Walking the bike along the high
street a woman calls out hello in English and I stop to talk with her. She is
with three other ladies, all sitting in buckets outside a shop. They get me a
bucket and I spend an hour talking with her. She translates our conversation
for the others and children stop to look at the bike. One young boy has an
album of football stickers for the forth-coming World Cup. A group of teenage
lads gather around as I look through it and point out the best England players
and ask about the Peruvian team. Everyone is so obviously proud and happy over
Peru being in the World Cup this year. The English speaking lady, well she
intersperses English words amongst a mass of Spanish but I understand well
enough, tells me that she learnt English when working hard for an English
couple that lived in Miraflores, Lima a few years ago. She, Marcella, insists
on telling me how hard the work was for them. Marcella makes it sound like
slavery!
Green Year list :
204 birds average
new birds to list per day : 3.40 birds
Distance walked, pushed and cycled : 35.00 miles
elevation : up 5,416 feet, down 6,434 feet
altitude : 9495 feet
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