Leaving Jardin, which we enjoyed immensely, we set out on a pretty road that wound its way through the Andean foothills. Our route from Medellin to Jardin had left a lot to be desired, with frequent roadwork snaring traffic. By contrast, the road leading south from this vibrant Andean town seemed perfect. Somewhat improbably, it reminded D of Ireland: narrow, smooth blacktop slicing through verdant hills, tall hedges on either side of the gently curving roadway. Then, without warning, this Platonic ideal of roadway perfection ended abruptly, and we found ourselves on a rutted track favored by mountain bikers. The so-called road, which continued to display as a prominently thick, though admittedly somewhat tortuous line on our GPS, plunged unexpectedly into a dense wood and grew exponentially more sketchy the further we drove.
The ensuing hour, as we attempted to navigate the remaining 15 kilometers from Jardin to the Yellow-eared Parrot Reserve, represented the most challenging, white-knuckle driving of the many hours we spent jostling along unpaved Colombian mountain roads. We were thankful that in our last-second scramble to find a rental vehicle with an automatic transmission we had managed to snag an SUV. That road would have been unthinkable in a sedan. As it was, the compact SUV we rented had a clearance level that came close to being insufficient for this stretch of rough road. We traversed deep, muddy ruts left by much sturdier vehicles, our car scraping the top layer of mud as we inched forward. We navigated around giant boulders and gaping holes on steep slopes, hugging the interior track to avoid plunging the car over the edge of the precipice on the other side. Fortunately, there was no oncoming traffic to dodge, but our complete solitude was also a bit disconcerting since we'd have no way to get help if we had stalled in our quest.
After what seemed like a small eternity we reached the little checkered target on our map, and the singsongy computer voice on our GPS announced our arrival at the Yellow-eared Parrot Reserve, which was nowhere to be seen. We briefly contemplated the temptation to succumb to utter panic but managed to maintain self-control. For several kilometers we had been seeing signs declaring the surrounding forest to be under the protection of ProAves, the bird conservation organization that operates the reserve we sought to visit. Also, there was no other road for us to have turned onto, so a navigation error was not in the realm of likely possibilities. We drove on, hoping that we were experiencing a minor Google Maps discrepancy rather than a major route error and, after rounding another bend in the road, found the reserve entrance a couple hundred meters ahead of us.
There are some places that seem more amazing and rewarding because of the effort it takes to reach them. Others are undeniably great on their own merits and simply require a high level of commitment to explore. The Yellow-eared Parrot Reserve unequivocally falls into the second category. With the possible exception of our whale-watching adventure, our visit to the Yellow-eared Parrot Reserve stands out as our favorite nature outing during two weeks in Colombia.
Parking as far to the side of the road as possible to leave enough space for passing chivas (Colombia's wide-truck conveyances of public transport), we ascended a gravel path and encountered a flurry of hummingbirds buzzing around feeders strung near a low-slung building out of which emerged a disheveled forest ranger in his underwear. In his defense, it was still very early in the morning (we had set out before sunrise), our visit was unannounced, and the reserve does not appear to receive many tourists. Once the ranger collected himself and put on some clothes, he proved a wonderful, if somewhat eccentric, birding companion.
In addition to watching the dazzling activity around the bird feeders, we went on a walk along the reserve's sole, overgrown trail through the deep woods. The ranger accompanied us for half an hour, comparing birding notes with D. He had an encyclopedic knowledge of the local species but only knew their scientific names, requiring a decent amount of back-checking on eBird's Merlin app to nail down bird identifications for D's checklist. The overgrown trail conveyed the impression of stepping into a fairy tale enchanted forest, especially once the park ranger returned to his post, leaving us to scramble through the woods on our own. The two-mile trail took as many hours to navigate.
Because we were so deep in the woods, finding and identifying birds was a bit of a challenge. We caught mere glimpses of several birds we did not even bother trying to pin down, logging only 25 species during our three hours at the reserve — but this was a case of quality over quantity. The sightings we did have were nothing short of spectacular, and 20 of these 25 species were lifers for D! We've included a few of our favorites above, from top to bottom: golden-fronted restart; masked flowerpiercer; cinnamon flycatcher; barred fruiteater; sparkling violetear; lacrimose mountain tanager.
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