Nomadic Narrative

After beckoning everyone to marvel at plants in the African Violet family, our guide quickly sensed dissonance in the group. “Ok, who here wants to see a quetzal?” he asked. “Majority rules.” The Spanish couple unequivocally wanted to spot a quetzal. The three French women smiled and with sultry voices announced that they, too, wanted to catch a glimpse of ze quetzal. I said that I’d be happy either way. “Ok, you’re like butter, as we say in Spanish.” Looking at the ground, our guide took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead. With a mix of determination and doubt in his voice, he summarized our decision: “Ok, we are going to try to see a quetzal.”

He took a few steps before turning back to the group to explain that you not only have to know what the quetzal likes to eat (aguacatillo) and where its nest is located, but you also need a lot of patience. Making eye contact with everyone in the group, he added that “the most important ingredient to seeing a quetzal is luck.” This is how my guided hike through the Santa Elena Cloud Forest Reserve in Costa Rica began.

Scanning the forest with an ear to the sky, our guide picked up the pace. “Quickly and quietly,” he whispered. “I think they’re at their nest right now.” We dashed down the wide, gravel entrance to the park. I thought we’d be running deeper into the forest. Stopping at the road’s edge, he set up his scope and peered into the forest. He cupped his hands at his mouth and replicated the quetzal’s hollow, two-note whistle. “No, they ‘re not at the nest anymore. I think one flew up the hill. Let’s go!” he said.

We repeated the same scenario a couple of times. We scurried up and down the trails examining the treetops and listening for its call. I started to think that the anticipation of actually spotting the elusive quetzal was going to be the reward of the hike.

That’s when our luck took a turn for the better.

Through an opening in the thick canopy of trees, we spotted its crimson chest. “It’s a male!” informed our guide. It didn’t have the long tail feathers I had always associated with male quetzals. Its rectangular tail, typical of birds in the trogon family, was pure white, unlike the female’s tail which has black markings. I learned that we were looking at a young male; the tail plumes take a few years to fully develop.

Satisfied and feeling lucky, we continued down the trail…only to spot a second male quetzal with slightly more developed tail feathers! More than satisfied and feeling especially lucky, we returned to observing plant life and eruptions from nearby Arenal Volcano through the spotting scope.

“If we return the way we came, we might spot more quetzals,” said our guide. Feeling lucky enough to want to push our luck, we forwent exploring new parts of the forest for the chance to once again observe the mythical bird.

It was an unusually clear day. Located on the Caribbean slope of the Continental Divide, the Santa Elena Cloud Forest Reserve gets a lot of rain. Hiking uphill, we saw our guide stop and set down his scope. Water break, I thought. He planted the legs of the tripod and angled the scope. With unprecedented calmness, our guide gestured to a nearby branch. Regally perched and wearing a mohawk-like crown in shades of emerald, the mature resplendent male quetzal’s long tail feathers fluttered in the wind like a pennon kite. Speechless.

Side note: Quetzals don’t sit still for very long. Because I had photographed the quetzal on an earlier hike in the Monteverde Cloud Forest (read about that hike here, with photos!), I decided to spend these moments just observing.