In Solitude The Mind Gains Strength
One of the journeys I had been really looking forward to was that of a place known as Gamboa. After our Darien adventures, I split from the group to do some soul and bird searching. It was in Gamboa a decade ago where I discovered that I was what others called "a birder". I've always enjoyed birds and nature my entire life, but it didn't snap into focus until that fateful day with a Lance-tailed Manakin.
the Crimson-backed Tanager is a gorgeous bird
Sometimes I worry that if I went back to a place after first visiting, it would somehow diminish that first experience. But there is something about Gamboa that is very special. When we visited Ivan's place ten years ago, there was something quite beautiful about the experience. Gamboa transports me back in time. It's a quiet little town surrounded by forest and an active canal.
Ivan's old canal home is a piece of art and history. Ivan is also a part of Gamboa’s backstory. I think he's truly the heart of Gamboa. There are a few people who call Gamboa home, but most are transients either working for the Smithsonian or Canal. Ivan IS Gamboa. He doesn't do the Birder's Bed and Breakfast any more but he continues with AirBnB. There's a regular super market now near the canal which allowed me to prep my meals. I had the entire place to myself, including the kitchen, and it was exactly what the doctor ordered. I recharged my body after the brutal humidity of the Darien. There I had a fantastic bathroom complete with air conditioning. I slept like a log.
Yellow-throated Toucan
Gamboa, like Flores near Tikal or Antigua in Guatemala, is a very unique place. It's where history, nature and science happens. Ancient playgrounds built during the early 20th century for canal worker's families still pretend to function as "playable". While watching a pair of Yellow-throated Toucans in a nearby park, one of my legs fell through an old grass covered manhole. It was a bit scary, but thankfully I didn't break anything. The image of Yogi the Bear makes me both happy and sad. He seems to have been forgotten in this age of extreme forest fires and climate change. The toucans were speaking to one another in the trees above Yogi. That's when I took a spill through the manhole.
After the toucans, I continued to the quiet and solitary sections of Gamboa. I stood there happy that Gamboa hadn't changed all that much. The wildlife was still ruling their kingdom. As I whistled a tune to the birds, this Palm Tanager came down to me for a close up. Pishing doesn't seem to work well in the tropics. But whistle a tune and watch the birds flock towards you.
Once a mighty empire, the now closed Gamboa Rainforest Resort sat in ruins. I walked the road to the property which is always full of wildlife. I found the resort worn and run down after a year of not being maintained. The tourist areas that hold the ziplines and a gorgeous pool were void of life overrun by bromeliads.
Crested Caracara
The paint was now worn on this once pristine and overpriced tourist trap. I walked the property alone down to the marina. It was eerily silent and yet beautiful. The wildlife was able to move about the area freely. There I walked with Crested Caracaras and Snail Kites. 
In the dark forest along Pipeline Road, I whistled out several tunes. My spirit bird, the Manakin, came over to me. During my time in Panama, I saw 5 species of Manakin. This male Blue-capped Manakin was a lifer for me. We stood in the dark forest for about 5 minutes watching each other. I'd whistle and the bird would move about me.
Blue-capped Manakin-lifer
Human created nature spaces like the Rainforest Discovery Center were closed to the public. That didn't stop me from finding birds. Pipeline Road was still open and free to bird. I met an Australian on the road who asked me where all the birds were. I told him that they were in the forest. He then proceeded to tell me that in Mexico, where he now resides, if they go look for a Red-breasted Chat, they get clear views. I explained to him that birding in the rain forest is a whole other monster. The forest is FULL of birds but you have to listen and know where to look. It's some of the most difficult birding on this planet.
Wattled Jacana at the Ammo Ponds
Part of me really wanted to stay longer in Gamboa. A part of my heart belongs there. I went to the Ammo Ponds outside of Pipeline Road. It was there I had hoped to find my Rufescent Tiger-Herons. Birding alone gives me an advantage to walk alongside the wildlife. Plus the wildlife is often very stand offish with groups of people. When a birder is alone, they can often times approach a bird or mammal safely without scaring them away. My body language and voice are the tools I use to often blend in with critters. I can only imagine what I look or sound like when an outsider sees me whistling out to a bird:)
All the pictures in this post were close and personal observations using my voice to replicate their calls. Sometimes I found myself standing in a spot for 45 minutes learning all the sounds of the birds around me. It's more work but it's worth the effort in the long run.
Plain-colored Tanager at a local park near the Smithsonian Research Center
I went out in the morning before the heavy rain storms hit. Then it would rain. I'd make lunch and shower from the extreme humidity. Afterwards I'd walk the town and do more studies. Ivan would pop in from time to time to check up on me and chat. He really is a great guy and I enjoyed the time we had talking to each other. So much can happen in ten years. And it did. When I first met Ivan and his wife, their place was busy with birders. That's how I found my people. His home sparked my fascination with the birding culture. He also had his parents living with him in that great big canal home. So it was wonderful catching up with him on things. It was also a little bittersweet. His parents are gone now. It's now an AirBnB which is awesome but I missed those candlelight dinners at night listening to birders whisper their best finds for the day. Ivan is still the life of the town and I swear in his other life, he was a mechanic. His garage is the life of the party. It's a real home with a big heart and I love that about his place.
The day I left the group, Ivan and his wife saved me from myself. The entire group had major bags of dirty laundry. I carry with me a scented garbage bag to contain the obnoxious smells from my sweaty nasty dirty clothes. His wife, who is a saint, washed my dirty clothes on the day I arrived, TWICE! The following morning I saw that clean bag from heaven on the steps to my room. I picked it up and smelled them for a minute. She was a miracle worker.
Over the past year during this global pandemic, I have gone through some major changes in my life. I am grateful to the Canopy Camp and my birding friends for that week together in the Darien. But I needed to be alone. I had to be alone to work some things out. I work best when I am forced to problem solve on the spot. Those 4 days in Gamboa went by too fast. I wish I could stop time and live forever in those moments.
Red-legged Honeycreeper
I tried to memorize everything about my stay. At night, I turned on the lights over that table with my laptop. I turned on quiet music with my coffee and took in the smells, the lighting, and the outdoor sounds of the geckos, frogs and bugs. Sometimes I think about retirement and doing what Ivan has done for so many years. Gamboa, like Tucson, is a magnet for the local and international nature loving crowds.
On the evening before my visit to the Ammo Ponds at the entrance to Pipeline Road, I studied my birds. One of the birds I had been hoping to see for years was the Rufescent Tiger-Heron. I was so excited to finally observe this bird in the wild. In the early morning hours, I not only found one but FIVE! Each one popped their heads up around me. One even flew towards me. In the pic below, this bird plopped itself onto the ground.
Rufescent Tiger-Heron
In another moment along the marina, a Plain Xenops, came to my whistle. There I watched this tiny bird flutter about the branches under the shady canopy of the forest. At one point, the bird hovered above my head gleaning bugs from the branches.
Plain Xenops
To be able to experience new things again was a real treat. Every bird I found was a personal and quiet celebration. I am a gypsy at heart. I can explore with others but I crave that sacred alone time. In those moments, I let myself get lost in the experience. Some people can get irritated by my wanderlust. But let me ask them? Have they spoken French fluently over bottles of wine at a Parisian shop with a group of random locals? Or sat at a tapas bar smoking a cigarette with locals? Or watched the steam rise from a sacred monk's hostel during a monsoon storm with a distant active volcano in the background? I have a knack for languages but I don't speak French, but somehow I spoke French that night. I wasn't drunk, but something clicked in my brain. I don't smoke cigarettes because I hate them but on that night I wanted to be a person from Barcelona. I don't believe in any religion and yet I wanted to experience the spirituality of the place. These solitary moments are sacred and in my opinion, can only be experienced alone.
I walked the trails. I watched the canal workers. I used my knowledge and experience to discover. My Spanish fluency came back to me full force. And inside I felt that spark again.
Gartered Trogon
In the darkness on the forest trails, I rediscovered my strength and confidence again like I had back in my 20's. Except this time, it is peppered with life experiences. I thought that birds were the main reason for my trip to Panama. It turns out that they were just the wonderful distractions. I hope my journeys will some day take me back to Gamboa.
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