Morning Birding in Kakamega’s Forest

Blue Headed Bee-Eater

November 21, 2015

On a Friday night whim, I decided that the next morning I’d drive over to the Kakamega rainforest for a Saturday morning of birding. I called my friend and guide John, we set our agenda and targets, I charged the camera battery, and cleaned the glassware on the lens. We set our hopes for the bar-tailed trogon, the black billed turaco, the blue headed bee-eater, the white-morph African paradise flycatcher, and the yellow-billed barbet. We both knew a host of other species would also be encountered and that our list omitted many of the area specialties/endemics. Nonetheless, we arranged to meet at 8:30 near the forest station.

After a good night sleep, a bowl of yogurt and granola, and a packed bag with snacks and gear, I headed out for the near two-hour drive. It was uneventful with some blues music keeping me alert. I made it to the junction, where I turned off the highway onto the dirt road. Not long into this section, I found a cargo truck loaded with wood planks that had fallen on its side trying to avoid the mud. The entire community was out helping to offload the wood so that they could collectively right the vehicle. The police were also present, which caused me to think that perhaps the planks were not exactly above board (no pun intended) given the prevalence of illegal logging and wood harvesting.

Tambourine Dove

Another five miles and I arrived at the forest station. Along the way I found the forest buzzing with activity. I noted the yellow spotted barbet, multitudes of black and white casqued hornbills, cinnamon chested bee-eaters, many greenbuls, white headed saw-wings, white-throated bee-eaters, European bee-eaters, a lovely black-collared apalis, black-faced rufous warblers, black headed weavers, sunbirds, and a large gathering of at least seven Luhder’s bushrikes. At the office I paid my 400-shilling entrance fee (resident rate) and connected with John. We made the call to try for the turaco and trogon first, given that we knew the bee-eaters were a sure find. We drove back down the main road and made for a trail that is known for taking sunrise walks to the top of the local hill. You can ask any guide—they’ll know this spot. It’s the only one. Seriously. Anyway, this particular part of the forest has a unique make-up of remnant primary old growth that were not culled, mixed within the newer secondary forest. This makes for fruit available year-round within this relatively small swatch of forest. Translation: The black billed turacos don’t have to move around the forest to find their desired food. It’s concentrated here. The problem is that for some reason this particular species of turaco does not like to be seen. It is notoriously shy. Any amateur birders in Africa know that turacos don’t exactly pose for photos. You need to be in the right place at the right time with the camera pointed at the right spot to capture “the shot”. However, the black billed turaco prefers to rush into the vines and branches at the top of the canopy so that the majority of viewing opportunities are comprised of gliding, landing, and scurrying. Not exactly Nat Geo quality stuff.

Regardless, I’d never seen one well (only had one previous momentary glimpse as one flew off). I cannot really qualify that as anything more than a record. So, with the call loaded onto my phone and the Bluetooth speaker in hand, John and I began our game of Marco Polo. We were able to entice a good number of birds to interact with us, and finally two flew over the road, giving us great views of the vibrant ruby primaries. This in and of itself was a real treat. John himself had only seen two in his life. We just saw two within 10 minutes. John was giddy and wanted to try heading into the forest via trail to see if we could get a perched specimen. We also tried for the trogon here, but I’ll cut to the chase: no luck today for this higher altitude forest-dwelling beauty. The turacos, however, were obliging us with their continued calls.

Black Billed Turaco

After about 15 minutes, one individual flew in and perched beautifully for us. We were amazed at seeing it call out and make a variety of calls neither of us have ever heard. We were sad to not be able to record them. It was almost a bugling cough. Turacos do not chirp; they’re too large. But this was perhaps the closest thing to it. Quite special in my opinion. We spent about 25 minutes enjoying the turaco and watched it preen, rest, call, and eat out in the open (though very high up). This was the best viewing experience I’ve ever had with a turaco and, for it to be this shy species, I was thrilled.

We trudged out to the road and made for a forest clearing where Klaas’s and Diederics cuckoos are known to be present this time of year. However, after many minutes we’d only progressed about 100 meters down the trail due to mud. We decided to bag that objective and went back to forest station block to spend time with the blue headed bee-eaters and great blue turacos before the fast approaching rains arrived. We made a quick stop to try for the African emerald cuckoo and pygmy kingfisher, but both were misses. The bee-eaters were zipping through the air, but within minutes, everything went quiet. Then the claps of thunder announced why it’s called the rainforest. We took shelter in a small structure for 45 minutes to let the storm pass. Upon emergence, we found our white-morph paradise flycatcher and also realized that we’d only encountered the first cell of what would be an all-day storm.

Cinnamon Chested Bee-Eater

We called it a day and went back to the car…to find it standing in three inches of water. Over 30 minutes of pushing finally moved it the 20 meters necessary to free it from the muck. John and I parted ways when I dropped him off, and I briefly stopped at Rondo Retreat Center to inquire about availability for the holiday season. I took a brief walk around their trails and found a cooperative white-spotted flufftail, a red headed bluebill, and grey throated barbets. I then drove back home still wearing my gum boots.

Looking for Blue in the Kakamega Rainforest

September 19, 2015

I’m not satisfied with the blue headed bee-eater photos that I’ve taken so far, and though I have probably spent the most time with this particular species, their behavior makes good photography very difficult. For all but about two months of the year, they spend the majority of time high in the canopy. They descend periodically to perch for a few seconds and then often ascend. Looking at the branch where they land and snapping a sharp, well composed photo feels more like luck than anything else. Moreover, even when “low” they are usually well above eye level, which makes the angles challenging.

I decided to head back to the famed Kakamega Forest in western Kenya to give it another go. Rather than track down the bee-eaters, I figured I’d go to a spot where I see them on about 80% of my visits and wait ‘em out. My wife and I loaded the cooler with the fixings for bacon, lettuce, and tomato (with avocado) sandwiches, some chips (or crisps, as they call them here), and a few cold beverages. We left these in the car and come back for them in the heat of the day when everything in the rainforest rests (aside from the mosquitos… oh, those mosquitos). We made the drive to the forest road and by 9:30 arrived at the station to pay our fee and enter the forest. We loaded our gear and began the 15-minute trek to the spot. This little gem is situated on a small creek that emerges from a spring about one kilometer away. This source of clean water is a major benefit to the local community whose children come to collect their daily supply. Conveniently, this regular human activity has made the wildlife rather used to us, and they go about their business without much of a care. What a welcomed change from fly-fishing the alpine streams of the western United States.

Before we even set down our bags, a juvenile blue headed bee-eater zipped overhead alerting us to its presence by the snapping of its beak on a freshly caught butterfly. This was a welcomed sight. Unwelcomed was the sight of it disappearing high into the canopy to enjoy its feast. Regardless, I was in the forest, away from work, and with a turned-off cellular phone. It would be a great day with or without the photo. After settling in and observing the timing and movements of the bee-eaters, I was able to relax and see what other species were around (you’ll find a list at the bottom if you’re tired of reading). The only lifer for me was a spectacular find: the Turner’s eremomela. This endangered species is small and, though active in its habitat, is tough to find. I never anticipated seeing it. But while calling for the black faced rufous warbler, two of these rare birds decided to check out what was going on. I almost missed them while musing at the comedic behavior of the warblers on the fritz. The eremomelas were off to the side, not wanting to get too involved. They stalled for about 20 seconds and looked around before flying into the middle levels of the canopy. I was delighted.

Not soon after, I was able to tally the Jameson’s and chestnut wattle-eyes whose diminutive size makes them great finds. Their abundance is plenty, but being skulkers you really need to know what to listen for as they snap their wings and hop around, or you’ll miss them completely. Both the red- and yellow-fronted tinkerbirds were close by, and a yellow spotted barbet was hawking insects. With about 13 species of greenbelt, the forest is never (EVER) quiet. I recorded at least eight of them, with the highlight being the Shelly’s (or Kakamega if you’re a splitter) species. Luhder’s bushshrikes rounded out the mid-morning affair as they responded nicely to my “pshing”.

Ludher’s Bushshrike

In the midst of the activity my mind was never far from the bee-eaters, and every few minutes I’d look around to take inventory of their normal perches. Unfortunately, they were always occupied. Attempting to get a better view of a nest-building grey-headed negrofinch, I crossed the creek and climbed about 20 feet up a small trail. The lighting was bad on the nest, but I enjoyed the industriousness of this little bird. Turning around, I waited for about 20 minutes hoping that I’d find an openly perched bee-eater. Thankfully (after much patience), one landed nearby and rested for about 15 seconds. This is not a long time. I was using a 300mm fixed lens which meant zoom wasn’t an issue, only focus. I spotted the red of the throat through the view finder and rifled off about 15 shots before it flew away. Not sure of what I got, I exhaled and quickly reviewed my work. I was pleasantly satisfied given the rushed job.

It was hot and the bugs were bad…really bad. We both have the welts to prove it. We packed up and headed back to the car for our BLTs. They were perfect. A chilled soda cooled our cores, and after 30 minutes in the shade we felt much better. However, the itching was not abated by the food. Given the temperature and lack of activity we decided to head over to the Rondo Retreat Center where we relaxed on the grounds and drank some fresh orange juice. We strolled around their nature trails and enjoyed summoning a couple of white spotted flufftails (my wife’s favorite bird). These little guys are notoriously hard to view well, but their ranking on the cute scale makes them highly desirable. We also found great blue turacos, grey barbets, and yellow billed weavers all going about their business.

White spotted flufftail taking a bath

Great Blue Turaco

Grey Throated Barbet

We eventually made our way back to our morning spot to see if the drop in temperature as evening approached would draw the bee-eaters lower. At one point, we were surrounded by a noisy group of black and white casqued hornbills and had nice viewing of two Mackinnon’s fiscals. The bee-eaters however were not cooperative. Eventually we called it a day and made our way back to the car enjoying a white morph paradise flycatcher and two very accommodating red chested cuckoos. Driving out of the forest, I attempted to lure out the shy and deep roosting black billed turaco but to no avail. The most I could muster were a few callbacks.

White Headed Saw-Wing

Regardless of the misses in photography due to tough lighting situations and uncooperative wildlife, Kakamega remains my favorite place to bird, hike, and explore “close” to where we live. This place is simply remarkable.

Black and White Casqued Hornbill

 

*Not all bird photos shown here were taken on this trip. However, they were all taken by me and in this forest.

————————————————————————–
Birds of note (in no particular order):
Mackinnon’s Fiscal
White Headed Wood Hoopoe
Black Billed Weaver
White Spotted Flufftail
Cinnamon Chested Bee-Eater
Blue Headed Bee-Eater
African Paradise Flycatcher (White Morph)
Red Chested Cuckoo
Ludher’s Bush-Shrike
Red Headed Blue Bill
Various Greenbulls
Grey-Headed Negrofinch
Black Faced Rufous Warbler
Great Blue Turaco
African Green Pigeon
African Pygmy Kingfisher
Black and White Casqued Hornbill
Red Fronted Tinkerbird
Yellow Fronted Tinkerbird
Yellow Spotted Barbet
Wire Tailed Swallow
White Headed Sawwing
Pied, Yellow, & Mountain Wagtails
White Browed and Snowy Capped Robin Chat
Chestnut & Jameson’s Wattle Eye
Turner’s Eremomela
Black Collared Apalis