Dracula Youth Reserve Expedition: Day 7
Monday, November 16, 2020
Part 1: Written by Pearson McGovern
Part 2: Written by Natalia Espanoza
Part 1
What do clothes and chocolate have to do with each other? Well, for one thing, the color of the water in which our clothes from the first week in the field had soaked overnight could really only be described as that of dark chocolate. In warp speed, as to not outlast our held breaths, Javier and I transferred over these “chocolate” soaked clothes to the washing machine at Casa Dracula. Though we didn’t expect to have the luxury of washing our clothes while on expedition, the whole team took this welcomed opportunity to spend week two smelling fresher. We all also took advantage of sleeping in later than usual on the comfortable beds at Casa Dracula, waking up rejuvenated and ready to continue our success at our next campsite.
Casa Fischer would be our home for the next few nights. Photo by Pearson McGovern
Our next site would be the newest parcel in the Dracula Reserve complex (in fact as of this writing, it was still in the process of being transferred into EcoMinga’s ownership). Called the Casa Fischer plot, this area represents the lowest portion of Dracula Reserve. Spanning from the banks of the San Juan river all the way up to the top of the mountain ridgeline, this 246-hectare plot had never before been studied by scientists prior to our arrival. Clearly we felt both lucky and anxious to discover what breathed within. My first introduction to the new site came when Javier asked me to join him, Don Hector, Geovani, and Don Hector’s nephew David in setting up the pitfall trap arrays the Rodent Team would be using for their surveys over the coming days.
In stark contrast to our previous campsite, the Casa Fischer campsite is located just off the side of the road that bisects the plot, separating it into a patch of riverside secondary forest below and a combination of abandoned pastures and intact forest above. We would end up setting pitfall traps in both sections but today we focused on completing an array in the more difficult terrain of the sloping, intact forests above the road. After handing off the necessary materials and showing us where exactly he wanted the traps placed, Javier headed back to Casa Dracula to welcome the Rodent Team of Jorge, Jaqui, and Karen, who were due in from Quito any minute. The remaining four of us split into groups. David and Geovany took on the task of digging the nearly two-foot (65 cm)-deep holes in which to place the 50-L (~15-gallon) pitfall buckets, and Don Hector and I followed behind by digging the trench and installing the connecting plastic sheeting which would lead unsuspecting animals to the buried traps.
As rodents (and sometimes snakes or other small reptiles) pass through the forest, they run along the plastic sheet and fall into the bucket. This allows the scientists to take a representative sample of the rodent population from an area of forest whenever the traps are in use for a survey. Video frame by Pearson McGovern
Don Hector. Photo by Pearson McGovern
We dug 14 bucket holes spaced 10 meters apart for a total length of 140 meters of fencing and traps in the first array. All around we noticed the remnants of old locally-used Awá rodent traps decaying in the leaf litter but still clearly recognizable as evidence of intense hunting pressure in this previously unprotected area. In fact, it was this previous hunting pressure that we were most interested in investigating on this plot, comparing it to areas with undisturbed and protected wildlife communities.
One of the rodent traps built by the indigenous Awá hunters. With the log on the ground, this trap is closed. But when the log is propped up and some grain is sprinkled underneath it, it turns into a deadly trap for small mammals in the forest. Photo by Pearson McGovern
Along with this comparison, these pitfall traps will also serve the long-term purpose of monitoring the recovery of rodent populations during this transition to protected status. Javier explained that this initial array will be set up for the next nine months, with buckets being opened to activate the traps for three consecutive nights every couple of months during that time. It’s this continued effort that makes such a large material investment (14 50-L buckets, 140 meters of plastic sheeting, wooden posts every 3-5 meters for stability) worthwhile.
Pearson returning from a long day of digging. Photo by Callie Broaddus
Around 2 PM, after nearly 5 hours of sweaty work, we started to make our way back down to the simple two-story covered shelter by the road where we were expecting Javier with lunch. I had really enjoyed these hours spent with Don Hector, learning about the history of the area, the experiences of he and his 12 siblings growing up exploring these forests, and his in-depth knowledge of the local wildlife, which culminated in his teaching me how to remember the call of the Toucan as the locals do, recognizing the call as sounding like “Dios te de” (or “God gives you” in English).
Though Javier had yet to arrive with lunch, there was still plenty to keep us busy in setting up the campsite before the rest of the team's arrival. We got to work building a table for working with specimens, extending plastic tarps from the sides of the building to provide relief from the elements, and cleaning up the rooms upstairs after months of vacancy. At around 3:30, Javier arrived with a car full of not only food, but the entire Rodent Team—known affectionately around camp as “Jorge and his minions”—as well as another park guard named Rolando from EcoMinga’s Rio Manduriacu Reserve. After meeting the team, we felt spoiled in the jungle as we ate the foil-baked fish and delicious french fries Javier had picked up in El Chical.
With restored energy and a now larger team, we finished up lunch and returned to complete the final pieces of the pitfall traps before nightfall. It was on the short hike back to the traps that we found our next snake. A beautiful, slender, cartoon-like Blunthead Tree Snake coiled in the leaf litter on the side of the trail. Finding a snake is always a thrill, but this find also provided an opportunity—an opportunity to educate the park guards (who were visibly shocked by my willingness to pick up the harmless animal) about the differences among local species, the importance of knowing the identity of any species before attempting to catch it, and most importantly the crucial role that snakes play in the environment. I was super excited to see both willingness and excitement from the park guards as they all held the shoelace-like snake.
Ex-situ photo of the Blunt-headed Tree Snake, Imantodes cenchoa. How could anybody be afraid of this face? Photo by Callie Broaddus
With the increased number of hands tackling the remaining work, we rapidly finished the pitfall traps and then left the buckets open for the night. Javier picked us all up at around 6 and we headed back to Casa Dracula to reunite with the Herp Team, meet the new arrivals (three reporters/filmmakers from the province’s capital, Tulcán), and sing Happy Birthday to Rolando. What an awesome, festive, and social event it was to be able to come together as a group and celebrate in unison during a year of such unusual isolation. We spent the night celebrating and sharing field stories until all had retired to their rooms to enjoy one final night in a bed before leaving for the Casa Fischer campsite the next day.
Part 2 - by Natalia Espinoza
Callie and I spent the morning at Casa Dracula, charging all electronics, repacking equipment, and backing up footage. It was also a perfect day to get more drone footage of Casa Dracula and the surrounding landscape. Although I had never flown a drone before, Callie insisted I attempt to get Bebecito off the ground. On my first attempt, the drone lunged towards Callie and nearly hit a tree! Fortunately, no harm was done to Callie or Bebecito, and Callie patiently coached me on how to best maneuver the drone as we laughed about the incident. Bebecito was soon high in the sky capturing the beautiful scenery that surrounded us.
Using the drone, we can see how the patches of small-scale agricultural deforestation knit together, ultimately altering the local climate, destabilizing mountainsides, and reduceing the viable habitat for many forest species. Video frame by Natalia Espinoza
Casa Dracula from the Bebecito-eye view. Video frame by Natalia Espanoza
Just before lunchtime, our ranks grew with the arrivals of the Rodent Team from the National Instituge of Biodiversity (INABIO), Gaby and Marco (a fellow Youth Council member) from EcoMinga, and a team of reporters from Tulcán. The reporters were here for a Mayor’s Office news report to document EcoMinga’s work and interview Javier, Callie, and some of the scientists on the heels of some big scientific news—the Rodent team’s recent description of a new genus of rat from Dracula Reserve and Marco’s co-authored publication of a new orchid, which was named in honor of the capital, Lepanthes tulcanensis.
Trying to act normally as the reporters filmed us, we flicked through some of the thousands of pictures from our first week. Marco helped us identify orchid species, occasionally cheering when we came across a particularly good view of one of Dracula Reserve’s miniscule orchid flowers. While it would take months to properly review all of the expedition’s images, doing this preliminary sorting based on content and quality would make it easier to find specific pictures later.
Callie shows Marco and Milton her images from the first campsite. With limited battery life in the field, this is everyone’s first opportunity to see the images the team has captured over the last week. Photo by Natalia Espinoza
We spent the rest of the evening photographing more orchid specimens and the remaining herps, a process that lasted well into the night after the triumphant return of Pearson and the hole-diggers. Tonight’s photo session included an adorable Blunt-headed Tree Snake, Imantodes cenchoa, that beautifully tied itself around a branch and elegantly posed for us, allowing Callie to capture one of the most striking shots from the expedition.
Imantodes cenchoa ex-situ, no manipulation. Photo by Callie Broaddus