Day 31 Away from Marcapomaconcha. Losses and Gains 1st May 2018

May 1^st, 2018

Cloudy morning, light in my face breeze, showers with hail briefly in afternoon, sunny intervals.

Goodbye to Hose, Lee and family after breakfast, a pair of shorts, a t-shirt and Manuel the cuddly toy pig for their toddler will lighten my load. I had wanted to keep Manuel until Salvacion and give him as a prize to one of the wonderful children of Chaskawasi-Manu but he has a small split after the 'accident' the other day back at Huanza and therefore I worry that the damage to him will increase if he stays on the bike.

Elba, the kind shop lady, who helped me on my arrival in the village the other night, is walking with two friends and handshakes and cheek to cheek kisses are embarrassing but nice. There is a bank of soil on the hill opposite the laundry buildings and it is full of large hole. Two holes have attendant Andean Flickers and another one sits on a rock by the road and is totally unperturbed by my passing.

After the brief push uphill from the village edge, the dirt road is all downhill to the next road junction. I stop to watch a juvenile Mountain Caracara fly over and land nearby. On looking more closely I count twenty one Caracara in the area. I wonder what attracts them here.

Turning left, north, onto the next road I cycle downhill. What a thrill to be actually cycling again but really with it being nearly all downhill this is really 'just falling in style!' Around a few bends and on a flat river plain stretching away into the distance are a number of good-sized lagoons and on them Chilean Flamingos.

I stop to count them. Fifty three. There are also lots of Puna Ibis, Andean Coot, a few Giant Coot, Speckles Ducks, Moorhen, eighteen Andean Geese and four Black-crowned Night Herons.

Continuing down the valley there are flocks of Puna Ibis, one flock contains an almost completely white bird, a partial albino, yet Passerines are few. An Andean Negrtio on the bog, a few White-winged and Cream-bellied Cincloides with the occasional Peruvian Sierra finch, Plain-coloured Seedeater and Bright-rumped Yellow Finch.

Past an old checkpoint with attendant barking dogs and hanging meat over the doorway, there are two fence posts with dessicated carcases of young dogs. How bizarre. Another thing to ponder.

The valley stretches out into a wide, grass-covered plain with large enclosures with various domestic herds. Once more every bit of the landscape, excepting the mountain rocky peaks, are over grazed and the landscape takes on the appearance of The Pennines or mid-Wales. There is even a limestone-layered hillside that looks like Malham Tarn and Ingleborough. 

Within the paddocks are herds of cattle. Outside are herds of cattle, sheep and the animals that prove I am in Peru not taking a road over Wensleydale, Llamas. Such fabulous animals, the males are huge and their movement is camel-like. 

The herd has animals of all ages and colour combinations of brown, white and buff.

One anclosure of cows has around one hundred and fifty Andean Geese behind them and they make a spectacular sight and sound as they take off together with dozens of Puna Ibis.

There are also large groups of horses. Six horses are being taken along the road by two men with three dogs. An old-style lifestyle it may seem but perfect for this environment. The one horseman has large bags either side of the horse and they slowly progress along the road.

Now I am a tad nervous of passing cows nowadays for the obvious reason. Once battered twice shy! So when a herd of cattle approach me along the road I carefully stand to one side and watch carefully as they pass. They too seem nervous of me and the odd cow stands for a while before running to get past. I am ready to get over the barbed wire fence if any come closer than the other side of the road.

On one bend in the road there is a small pool with seven Chilean Flamingos. I stop to look closer and a herd of cows come down the road but won't go any further with me being there. This time I do climb over the fence and go to the other end of the road to where they are and persuade them to move along. Luckily they do. Returning to the pool and my bike I scan the pool and am delighted, no I am totally surprised to find a Solitary Sandpiper! I had given no thought on this being available in the High Andes as a bird for the trip, thinking that this beautiful wader would be in North America by now. A bonus bird I feel that heightens moral.

There are lots of pools in the area and checking them brings two Lesser yellowlegs to go with the other Yank. There are also flocks of Puna Ibis, a common bird in this habitat. Andean Negritos seem to like the marshy edges as well for there are a few of them.

The road splits once more and my way takes me along long stretches that zig zag and gain height. On one bend three Puna Snipe dash out of the roadside ditch, calling as they, very much snipe-like, fly low and disappear into the grass clumps and marsh ground nearby. I try for half an hour or so to photograph and video them with very limited success. Their call is very like that of the European Common Snipe and the markings on mantle and wings likewise, with mantle stripes and wingbars. About fifteen show themselves in their usual low projectile fashion.

The hill climb completed, there follows a very long, mile after mile slow descent in rain and hail. A pale phase Variable Hawk sitting on a fence post stops me. A shelter of a very basic sort helps me dry out for a while and the rain stops within half an hour.

The descent continues on dirt track roads and another pale phase Variable Hawk flies low in the valley below.

Around a corner there is a junction where large lorries carrying mud and pebbles have been joining the road. Here starts some serious road works and the way is bumpy and wet, with mud clinging to the wheels. I am stopped on one stretch as a lorry dumps it's load and a, what I would call in Britain a JCB, flattens it all out ready for two steamrollers, much larger than the ones I remember from my childhood with two large tyres at one end and the metal roller at the other, to finish the job.

After being let through the road is extremely bumpy along long descending stretches that have yet to be done. I am stopped again though by more of the same sort of vehicles but the mud this time is far wetter than before. No chance to cycle here, once let through I have to push.

Once free again, the road goes down to a river and ascends the other side where I find a confusing junction. My map tells me to go right so I do. Two miles later I come across another, larger river and find myself unable to get across because it is a three foot deep ford! 

I contemplate fording it for about ten seconds with memories of the disaster of when I did so in February of 2015 in Devon. The ford on that occasion was flooded and my decision to try to cross, instead of returning and taking the ten mile diversion, ended up up with me waist deep in freezing water clinging onto the bike. Not this time thanks.

I look down and think of how my panniers would cope if I did try to cross. Panniers. One is missing. Front left. As I walk and cycle the two miles back to the junction I try to think what was in it. I suddenly panic and think that it is the one with my passport and wallet in it! I get off and quickly look inside the one that is still there. Thankfully my passport and wallet are in the one I still have. Now that would have been a disaster. So what is in the one I have lost. I work it out as I get nearer to the last junction I had seen it. Socks, not too bad to lose. Toiletries, well I can get them at the next village. A t-shirt, bugger, I liked that one and the bicycle pump. Now losing that could be a problem obviously yet I have faith in my Schwalbe Marathon tyres.

Having not found it on reaching the junction I consider whether I had really seen it there. Maybe it had fallen off on that very long, bumpy descent. The thought of walking all the way back up there didn't thrill me. Also it is by now only an hour before dark. I decide that it is gone and walk the five kilometres to the next village. No hostel here so I camp in a field having tried to get to the next village, Santa Barbara, before dark but not making it. Setting the tent up in the dark is fun.

Green Year list : 184 birds

average new birds to list per day : 5.94 birds

Distance cycled : 33.78 miles

elevation : up 1.862 feet, down 2,994 feet

altitude : 13,356 feet

30th April, 2018. Last day of the First Month of BIKING BIRDER IV

April 30^th, 2018

Early morning fog due to low cloud and rain gave way to a glorious sunny day. Two thunder storms passed in the afternoon but I was between them and only had half an hour of hail and rain.

Breakfast on the last day of the first month of The Biking Birder Adventure IV – Peru, almost the same as yesterday, an addition of fried bananas, all for the same price. Hose, Elizabeth, Carmen and Lee, I thank you. The same lads as yesterday are here and they have plates of potatoes and rice.

Outside, ready for a long walk to some mountains to the north, Doug, the very friendly dog won't stop following me and even introduces me to another friendly dog. It is only when I have pretended to be angry a couple of hundred yards outside the village that I get them to STAY! I feel like Karl from the Pixar film, Up. Doug in the film and the dog with me now, is very similar. I wonder if this Doug will speak Spanish?

The weather is beautiful and the surrounding mountains are bathed in sunlight, accentuating each different rock form, shape and colour. South of Cusco is the famous Rainbow Mountain made of stripes of many coloured rock. They have smaller versions here with reds, creams and shades of grey.

A farmer is stretching barbed wire and nailing it to posts. I offer him various food items that I don't want to carry when I continue on my way tomorrow, packets of water crackers and biscuits. The farmer, Hernando, gratefully receives them. I am grateful for him to take them and that he understands my need to reduce the weight on my bike.

I follow the road that circumnavigates the lake to the north and find a large rock to stop and sit for a while. The view is incredible and amazing to think that just a couple of hours ago one could hardly see any distance at all due to the rain and fog. The sunshine has brought out more flies, luckily not biting ones and eight Andean Swallows are hawking around feeding on them. One swallow lands nearby luckily.

Walking about a mile further up the road, breaking off to climb the steep grassy slope, on reaching the top of a long ridge there is a view of yet another large lake called Laguna Runtacocha. It isn't as big as Marcopomacocha's main lake but still impressive as it is surrounded by high mountains on three sides giving a magnificent view in the sunshine. An hour or so later I am searching the boggy pools and streams at the far end of the lake, looking for my target bird of the day, the famed Diademed Sandpiper. Every small, shallow pool is searched, every small stream is likewise but no trace of the sandpiper, not even any footprints. There are half a dozen White-winged Cinclides and a couple of Taczanowski's Ground-Tyrants, which are new for the adventure.

Via a short cliff scramble to get around to another area similar to this, with meandering, bubbling streams, small pools and boggy, mossy areas and despite another careful search, no luck with the sandpiper. At the far end there is a small waterfall, I love the word cascade, and I carefully climb up the sandy slope that has some tufted grass. On reaching the top there is yet another lake, quite small so I guess I am now in a corrie. For those of you reading this in the UK this is the best sort of corrie! Stunningly beautiful with high cliffs of the mountains that rise to peaks thousands of feet above, giving it a feeling of wonderful and favourite site I have been fortunate enough to visit a few times in the Pyrenees in France, La Cirque de Gavarnie. There is even a waterfall here, not Europe's highest cascade as at Gavarnie yet impressive enough. On one side of the corrie the slope is yet more of the sandy habitat with tall grasses set about in thick, two foot high tufts. A bird flies out and quickly disappears again, a bird with a widely rounded, rufous tail, small in size and obviously a canestero of some kind. It gives very short views as it runs between grassy clumps. A very frustrating bird to try and get a decent view of, especially as it means climbing the slope where every step is breath-taking, literally at this altitude. The bird reminds me of Dupont's Larks on the sierra's of Belchite in Spain, similar jizz with the speedy spurts between the grass that is available in both habitats. The tail is the give away, a warm, rufous colour and so I scribble Streak-backed Canestero in my notes.

Around the small lake to the waterfall, I sadly find a dead mouse. I wonder how the small thing died. Back down to the larger lakeside and after lunch of a couple of roast banana sandwiches and mandarins it is time to make my way back to the village. Thunder clouds are brewing to the south west and are heading this way.

Roast banana, more memories of times past, a song sung at Rock festivals in the Seventies. My memory tells of an almost never ending roast banana song which went like this :

And he would peddle, peddle, peddle

Fake Marijuana.

He would peddle, peddle, peddle

Some roast banana

He would make a lot of bread,

Impersonate a FED,

Roll a joint, roll a joint,

Get smashed right off his head

So he would peddle, peddle, peddle

A little further, until the man got caught.

So they came in a van

He said, “I'm the wrong man!”

And so he'd peddle, peddle, peddle.

One more time!

And everyone did. Thousands of hippy-styled people, including myself with Afghan coat, massed necklaces of various fruit pips (!) around my neck dangling to my waist, a 'Kiss-me-Quick' hat from Blackpool bedecked with dozens of enamel badges of my favourite Rock Music groups, elasticated denim jeans that were skin tight and almost impossible to get in and out of with holes and patches giving more names of Rock groups giving me a Max Wall legs appearance and long, dark brown hair that reached down my back that was occasionally plaited into a hundred strands with beads. I wasn't alone in 1976 with such a look. “Everyone wears a uniform,” as Frank Zappa used to say.

I changed the words to the 'Peddle, peddle, peddle' song during my UK Biking Birder adventures to be about The Biking Birder. The lyrics to that song and many other bird related tunes are available in my book. The link to buy it is on the right of this page! 400 wonderful pages for £10 . . . what amazing value. Inspirational!!!

Walking back along the lake side hail and rain fall but not too bad. I can see that the village is being really hit by the thunderstorm and the sky that way is dark and threatening. Thunder echoes around the valley. By the time I get back to the road the sun is back out and the rest of the day is once more beautiful sunshine, the sky having those lovely white fluffy Cumulus clouds.

In the evening, in the hotel restaurant, the lads from the morning, who have spent the day forking the nearby village football pitch and removing stones from it, play their version of Pool – Snooker on the large table with an sexagenarian from Britain. Fabulous fun and we sit together for dinner. My dinner consists of rice, potatoes, vegetable stew and a beautiful, orange-fleshed trout caught that day from the lake. I share half of it with the lads.

Hose is busy around the corner chopping and sawing up a whole skinned sheep! The four lady cooks are in the kitchen and Junior, one of the lads, takes photographs of everyone. Wonderful people.

So the first of the six month adventure comes to an end. From Lima to Marcopomacocha, from sea level to 15,000 feet, there have been a couple of unfortunate events but the overall impression has been of one of incredibly friendly people, magnificent landscapes, fabulous birds and birding and the sort of difficult physical challenge that I love and all is Green about the adventure. The power for a mobile and a small laptop, the carbon used to cook the very occasional warm meal and a light bulb. Not much of a carbon footprint, I think I will call this Green Birding!

Green Year list : 180 birds average new birds to list per day : 6.00 birds

Distance walked : 6.70 miles

elevation : up 1,040 feet, down 1,040 feet

altitude : 14,521 feet

29th April, 2018 Birding Marcapomacocha

April 29^th, 2018

A light rain in the morning, hardly a spot really, followed by sunny intervals for the rest of the day. Actually the best weather for days! Lovely if rather cool.

Where can one get breakfast consisting of two fried eggs, three bread rolls, a large mug of milky coffee and a glass jug full of warmed fruit juice, just squeezed from fresh fruit, and all for just six Soles, about £1.50? I slowly, carefully eat it all as this is the first meal I have had for three days. Since Huanza I have had fruit, water biscuits, crackers and yogurt, other than the little bit of cheese I was given by the kind Miguel and Germano at Milloc yesterday morning and when arrived here last night after darkness had fallen I was too exhausted to eat so, having found the hotel eventually, I went to sleep. A reason to be grateful for the big mug of hot coffee is precisely because it is just that, hot. There is no heating anywhere in the hotel and at 14,560 feet mornings are cold. Cupping gloved hands around the coffee mug is a wonderful way to warm up.

Four village boys come in for their breakfast so we give names and they use my binoculars, There is a wall just outside the back of the large restaurant and various birds come to land and sit and stare; Bright-rumped Yellow Finches are the most common as little parties of them of four or five come and go. Two Andean Flickers take up station as do two new birds for the Green List, Black-billed Shrike Tyrant and Plain-breasted Earthcreeper. 

Three new birds over breakfast, I have already looked over the beautiful lagoon and seen a small number of Masked Ducks. The boys finish using the bins, complete their breakfast and together we play a form of Pool on a large table at the back of the room. With the lads it is conversation as well as my limited Spanish can muster and fun.

Three security guards for the village arrive for their breakfast and immediately they sit down at a table and immediately shut themselves away with their smartphones. No conversation, they just eat. Once they have finished though they do come in and join in with our pool, which is a shame as one of them is a master and proceeds to knock spots off us.

Eight in the morning, breakfast is finished and Elizabeth and Hose are thanked gratefully, I have had the enjoyment of playing a couple of games of pool with wonderful men and seen three new birds for the Green Year list. Not a bad start to the day. Off outside it is cold but dry and I walk into the village, quiet as it is Sunday. I notice though that the two churches are locked though. A long street of mud-brick, corrugated iron houses has two large bushes, the only ones I can see in the area, and pishing brings two Rufous-collared Sparrows out to investigate. On the roof of a building next to a small alley that leads to a colourfully painted Primary School, two Andean Flickers sit and are unconcerned by my passing.

Walking to the village square, typical of Peruvian villages and indeed cities on a grander scale, for square it is with a large statue of a Puma dominating the centre, small bushes, paths and benches arranged in a criss cross, St George's flag style. The surrounding road has a permanent volleyball net set over it and a minibus and two space wagons negotiate around this fixture.

Out of the village the compacted dirt road leads the way I entered last night and in the daylight the view over the lake is tremendous. At each end of what I can see of the lagoon, I know from a map that I have that it extends much further south around a rocky corner, are high snow-capped peaks and between these are extensive grasslands. Where this road goes by the lagoon there are a number of ducks on the shore, a Lesser Yellowlegs and some Giant Coots, living up to their name, on the water. Beautiful, blue/black-billed, white-cheeked Puna Teal and Yellow-billed Pintails are on the shore and are new for the list and the other duck species are counted for the eBird record to be added once I have internet service. There are also a few Puna Ibis, short almost black plumaged birds. I love these eBird days when I can relax and bird with no time pressure to get somewhere. Here it really is apt to say, 'What is this world if full of care, one has no time and stop and stare.'

A turn to the left and there are two small, open buildings where three people are doing their laundry by battering it on planks held over longitudinal sinks. Using cold water and large soap bars they laugh as they work, rubbing the soap along their clothes before rinsing. Compare this, all done in freezing cold water straight from the lake, with laundry done elsewhere. No automatic washing machines here yet the friendship, laughter and conversation between the participants points to our having lost something.

Walking a,little further there is a small cage, locked, which has a sign over it which translates to Reduce, Reuse, Recycle and within it there are five small plastic bins for each material type.

Behind some barbed wire fencing along the road there are tufts of Puna grass and a Canyon Canestero is feeding close by. 

A really obliging bird, at one point there is less than a few feet between us, well that and a small rock that it is behind. It isn't bothered by me though as it creeps between grass tufts and searches for food.

Over a small bridge the road splits and I take the one that leads uphill. There is a dark soiled ploughed field here that has seven superb looking Andean Lapwings on and over forty Bright-rumped Yellow Finches. These finches are very tame and allow one to walk right past them. The road leads to a mobile phone mast enclosure which has a building and high razor wire fence surround, all protected for by a barking wildly blonde coloured dog. A party of four Incan villagers pass with their three black & white sheepdogs. One of their dogs tries to attack the incarcerated dog through the wire, both baring their teeth at each other and snarling viciously. I pass cautiously and as with everyone one passes, greeting are given and received.

There are very few birds along this road. A couple of Mountain Caracaras fly over, as do some Variable Hawks. Ground birds are almost absent. There are just a couple of Ochre-naped Ground Tyrants. There are though lots of sheep and in the distance up a ridge there is a large herd of llamas. I start to realise that this landscape is not natural. The grassland is overgrazed and lacks the flowers and large grassy tussocks that would be here without the domesticated herds. This is a man-made habitat with spectacular eruptions of mountainous, snow-capped rocky peaks.

Down in the valley a shepherd is resting next to a haystack and his three dogs see me and start to bark and climb the hill towards me. Dogs, a problem when travelling on foot in Peru. Most are the loving pet animal that we all love. Some though are vicious, snarling, snapping animals who seem to want blood. I turn around and walk back towards the village. Luckily the three dogs, once they cannot see me due to the valley shape, stop their chase and by peaking over the edge I can see them go back to the shepherds small hut.

Back near the lagoon there is a small building made for sheltering sheep about five foot tall with a corrugated iron roof. I sit down against the stone and watch. An Andean Negrito comes close, as does a Dark-winged Miner and a Plain-breasted Earthcreeper. Out over the water a Chilean Flamingo flies.

Walking over some bog with a small stream, hoping for an ambition bird, the beautiful Diademed Plover but not seeing one, there is a Black-billed Shrike Tyrant, an Andean Swallow and a couple of noisy Andean Flickers, Down at the shoreline are coot and duck and a single White-tufted Grebe.

Back at the bridge my appearance startles a Cincloides species, which flies off downstream like a huge, chestnut-coloured Dipper and disappears around the corner. I am not sure which species it was and so I climb the barbed wire fence though and follow the stream

downhill. After a few hundred yards I don't find the Cincloides but do find the intriguingly named D'Orbigny Bush Tyrant, dark uppers and red below with strong white supercilia.

Back at the small bay by the village a close by Chilean Flamingo is preening, as are four Puna Teal. From here it is just a couple of hundred yards to the proud archway telling one that they have arrived at Marcopomacocha, with it's two statues; one of a large trout and the other of a Puma.

Into a shop in the village, the lady behind the counter greets me as an old friend, as does her large black and very friendly dog. She wants to know when I am leaving and whether I managed to walk around the lagoon. This last comment is due to the fact that when we met last night, when half a dozen villagers were trying to find the key to the old hostel in the square, unsuccessfully hence my being in the 'new' one, She joked that I should walk around the lagoon thinking that I didn't know of it's immense size. She is genuinely pleased that I am staying until Tuesday. Walking through the village there is a mass of red meat handing from a doorway and long lines of washing at the back of most houses. It must take some time to dry in these cool temperatures but this afternoon's sunshine must help. That reminds me . . . I must wash my socks! Cold water scrub in a sink.

After leaving my purchases at the hotel, I do walk some of the lagoon's perimeter road for about three miles. With me is another extremely friendly and very subservient and lovely dog, who I name Doug. He or she, I didn't look, comes with me the whole way, usually no more than a couple of feet from my feet. Occasionally I turn around thinking she has gone back to the hotel only to find that she is there right at my feet. The terrain is rougher here, more stony with intermittent small bushes. Birds are still few but they are interesting, especially the wonderful Black-breasted Hillstar, a smashing, medium-sized hummingbird. 

Six Speckled Teal are on the shore with a couple of Giant Coot. Otherwise there are a couple of Dark-winged Miners, a few Plain-coloured Seedeaters, some Ash-breasted Sierra Finches and Bright-rumped Yellow Finches.

Doug and I return to the hotel to find that the restaurant won't be open tonight. A tin of tuna, a few crackers and some Maracuya juice will have to suffice.

Green Year list : 178 birds average new birds to list per day : 6.14 birds

Distance walked : 3,95 miles

elevation : up 340 feet, down 354 feet

altitude : 14,521 feet