Expedition: Day 4
Stepping foot onto the ReservaYLT site for the first time—completely drenched and exhilarated. From left to right, Geovany, Javier, Carter, Lucy, Marco, and Callie. Photos by Callie Broaddus, photo of Callie by Lucy Houliston.
Saturday, September 21st
Written by Lucy Houliston
Saturday was a particularly exciting one for the Reserva Expedition team. Following a spot of pre-breakfast birding, we’d follow a remote trail up to an elevation of almost 1,700 metres, eventually reaching the mountain ridge that runs along the upper edge of our site. The hike would provide us with our first intimate glimpse of the forest we’re working to protect and, more specifically, of the astounding array of life that it supports. According to Javier, this part of the Chocó—protected by EcoMinga—is so fecund and yet so understudied, that the chance of us encountering a new or extremely rare species of bird, mammal, insect, or plant at some point that day was highly likely.
The endemic Chocó toucan. Photo by Callie Broaddus.
Having been separated from the Amazon Basin by the rising Andes mountains some 45 million years ago, the level of biodiversity and endemism in and around our site is mind-boggling. It made itself obvious before we even set eyes on our trail—we spent at least an hour inspecting a curious cast of birds and invertebrates that had chosen to make our acquaintance there at the base of the mountain. It included a small flock of endemic Chocó toucans, a striking tiger moth, and a tiny, shrimp-like character who’d have looked more at home looming over a thronging city in a sci-fi movie that he did on the top of Callie’s tripod.
Who can identify this little leafhopper nymph-looking mini-shrimp? Please comment below! Photos by Callie Broaddus.
Eventually we set off, and the further we travelled, the tougher the terrain and weather became. The relentless, heavy rain which began a mere twenty minutes after we started walking was a test not only for us, but also for the hefty assortment of camera kit we had in tow. Step a foot wrong, and in no time you could end up knee-deep in sticky mud and surrendering to one of Javier’s inventive rescue efforts. Just minutes into the hike, we had to rain-proof our bags and gear; a few hours in and our hands were shrivelled and rubber boots overflowing with water. I had no choice but to don a painfully thin, emergency rain poncho that got caught on almost every twig I passed and served to inspire my (unfortunately enduring) new nickname, ‘Trashbag’.
Some parts of the trail were so steep and muddy that we had to form an elephant train! From left to right: Callie, Lucy, Javier.
As it turns out, Javier isn’t just an expert when it comes to rescuing plastic-clad, inexperienced hikers from muddy ditches: he also seems to know everything there is to know about the life of the forest—from towering trees to pudgy rhinoceros beetle larvae and camouflaged moths. Along the way, I caught sight of some peculiar looking insects lined up along the grooves of a gnarly tree trunk—insects Javier had never seen before. “New species?” I asked, joking. Javier smiled as he turned back to the trail, “Maybe!" (It’s possible that they could be a brand new species of Zyzzogeton, sharpshooter leafhoppers—thanks to Reserva Youth Council member Andrés Better for this initial ID!)
According to our Youth Council member Andrés Better, these appear most similar to Zyzzogeton viridipennis, but with obvious differences in color and markings. New species? Maybe! Photo by Lucy Houliston.
Ascending the mountain slope was like journeying into another world. Above a certain level of elevation, the endless swathes of green that by then were so familiar to us transformed into a patchworks of colours: upon closer inspection, patches of deep red revealed themselves to be huge bromeliads—prime hiding spots for stealthy amphibians. Amongst them, trailing strings of mosses dangled from even the highest branches. We passed cascading waterfalls, and clambered over enormous fallen trees, all the while trying not to look down into the deep ravines that lay either side of our narrow path. Even to my relatively untrained eye, it was clear to see how this incredible area of forest has managed to earn its title as one of the most biodiverse regions in the world.
Even in an iPhone image, one can’t mistake the diversity of plant life here. A window through the branches shows just how steep this hike was on either side of the trail! Photo by Callie Broaddus.
I think I speak for the whole team when I say that it was a relief to reach the top of the ridge. The weather conditions had made certain sections of our trail particularly treacherous, forcing us, at one point, to stop and consider whether it was worth continuing on at all. Minus a few bags (the weather was far too wet for most of our camera kit, and the ground far too slippery for us to move around safely with it all), we made the courageous decision to proceed, determined to make today the day we’d step foot on the first Reserva: The Youth Land Trust reserve. Reaching our final destination was a true moment of elation and celebration for us all, and it was made all the better by the discovery of what Javier believed to be a spectacled bear’s den—a resourceful deployment of a hollow, moss-smothered tree trunk.
We made it! Pruney fingers and all, this sign marks the end of the existing Dracula Reserve, and the beginning of our site.
Lucy (aka. ‘Trashbag’) standing in the hollow of an enormous tree. Off to her left is a worn, dry area, which Javier identified as the likely den of a spectacled bear. Photo by Callie Broaddus.
With the light running low, we had to turn to the daunting task of retracing our steps down the mountain. After a mere 100 yards of slipping and sliding, we had to stop. Javier was staring with wide eyes at a thin fallen tree near a steep section of the trail. Pointing to a few green leaves, out of which protruded several minuscule flowers, he gestured for our orchid-obsessed Youth Council member, Marco, to come take a look. After several silent seconds, where Javier seemed torn between holding his breath and smiling, Marco lifted his head from his small, metal magnifying glass … “Wowwww!” The pair’s excitement when they realised that an orchid we encountered—just visible thanks to its minute, 2mm wide flowers—was unlike any of the others in its genus was infectious. A new species? Almost certainly.
Can you spot the orchid on this fallen limb? Look just right of center for the green leaves protruding downward under the lichen, and you’ll see some brown branching stems tipped with minuscule pink dots. This potentially new species was discovered by Javier Robayo. Photo by Callie Broaddus.
We collected enough of the plant to study further, leaving most of it behind, and continued down the mountain with a bit more haste. It was growing increasingly dark, and night had fallen completely by the time we arrived back at our car. Soaked and excited, we talked about our discoveries the whole drive back to Casa Dracula. Once showered, warm and dry, we spent the evening photographing our newly-collected orchid specimen, and refuelling for another exciting day of exploration.
Fundación EcoMinga believes in minimal collection. This is just a small section of the orchid Javier found on our hike—enough for cultivation in Quito’s botanical garden, where it can be further studied and described. (p.s. Can you spot the slug?) Photo by Callie Broaddus.