Birding in Baja

Joe Meche is a past president of the North Cascades Audubon Society and is still active in chapter affairs.He has been watching birds for more than 60 years and photographing birds and landscapes for more than 40 years. He has written more than 132 articles for Whatcom Watch.

The day we left on our much anticipated trip to Baja could not have been more perfect. We drove out of heavy snowfall and into rain at Burlington. Reports later confirmed that between eight and fourteen inches of snow fell on Bellingham that day. Further reports indicated that even more snow fell during the time we were gone. Regardless of the weather here, we had packed what we thought would be appropriate gear for Baja, which included nothing made of wool or Gore-Tex! Shorts and sunscreen were priority items in our suitcases. After an overnight in Seattle we jumped through the necessary security hoops at SeaTac to begin our early morning flight to sunshine and warm weather.

We made one stopover in San Diego and then landed at the ultra clean and very modern aeropuerto north of San Jose del Cabo, Baja California Sur, Mexico. It was a pleasant surprise to deplane and greet a relatively cool Baja day, making for a smooth transition for all the travelers from the Pacific Northwest. After running the maze of passport checks and securing a rental car, we left the world of travel logistics behind and were finally on our own. We headed north on the Carratera Transpeninsular or Hwy. 1, the only highway that connects north to south on the peninsula.

We drove down Hwy. 1 eighteen years ago and found the highway to be lacking in many ways and exciting in others. Since then, there have been major improvements in the overall highway system, considering the roads that we encountered this time around. After poring over books and web sites since Christmas I knew there was so much to see and do, but our mission on the first day was to meet our friends at La Ventana. After the day we had, we were ready to stop. Short nights with early wake-up calls and the inherent stress of travel contribute to long days. When we reached our destination and fresh fruit margaritas were pressed into our hands, any lingering stress disappeared.

Our place of residence for the next nine days was no more than 200’ from the beautiful waters of Bahia de La Ventana. No sooner had we unloaded our gear from the car when a nesting pair of Great Horned Owls began calling from a nearby palm tree, as if to welcome us their world. We spent the end of the long first day taking in the beauty of where we were and shared the news of the snowfall in Bellingham. We all agreed that we were exactly where we wanted to be. The evening temperature was already beginning to cool as the sun went down behind the Sierra de la Laguna, the southernmost mountain range on the Baja Peninsula.

This peninsula, known to most outsiders/tourists simply as Baja, is part of northwestern Mexico and is separated from the mainland by the Sea of Cortez, also known as the Gulf of California. This unique landform extends almost 800 miles from Tijuana on the north to Cabo San Lucas on the southern tip. It is only 200 miles across at its widest point and has over 1,900 miles of coastline with about 65 islands. It is divided into two Mexican states with the southern portion, Baja California Sur (BCS), becoming the 31st state in 1974.

Baja has much to offer in its cultural and natural history. From the first Spanish expeditions sent by Hernan Cortes and the efforts of the early missionaries to the rich ecological treasures, this is a region to explore. There are seven distinct ecosystems on the peninsula, ranging from the arid, tropical deserts in the lowlands to pine and oak forests at higher elevations. Typical plants and animals abound and more than 450 bird species have been recorded on the peninsula. Many of the birds that breed in Washington state spend their winters in Baja, like the black-headed grosbeaks that I saw nearly every day on my sunrise hikes in the desert.

I am an early riser and the morning hikes worked perfectly into my daily routine. I was into the desert exploring the harsh landscape when birds first began to stir and assume their positions for the morning chorus. The contrast was noticeable as these early birds were singing from a variety of cacti and other desert plants instead of the Pacific Northwest perches that I was used to. In addition to the birds, I was a bit overwhelmed by the variety of desert flora encountered along the way. I stayed in the desert until the rising temperature told me it was time to find shade and breakfast. One of the first things that struck me from the time we landed and throughout our stay was the intensity of the light. With no polluting industries anywhere nearby, skies were clear throughout the day and night. And with a minimum of artificial lighting, the night sky was, quite simply, incredible.

After three days, we left our place on the beach for a day trip to La Paz, less than an hour to the north. La Paz is the capital city of BCS and has a population of more than 250,000. Driving into a large Mexican city in the middle of the day is an experience like no other. With Cindy driving and me in the navigator’s seat, we made our way to the waterfront and the famed, Malecon, the five kilometer promenade that follows the shoreline of the Bahia de La Paz. We had not bargained on the fact that it was the week of Carnival and with all the extracurricular activities going on, La Paz was not the same city you would see on any other day. It was set up for celebration. This, combined with the heat, made for a short visit. After stops at a wonderful bookstore, a charming coffee shop, and a sidewalk café for lunch, we hurried out of town and back to the beach.

Aside from my morning walks in the desert, there were birds in the campground and up and down the beach. Gilded flickers shared duties with Gila woodpeckers, phainopeplas, cactus wrens, and three species of doves. Brown pelicans, yellow-footed gulls, and magnificent frigatebirds were common in seemingly endless streams just above the beach, especially during the evening. I did not want for birds the entire time I was there. Magnificent sunrises were stunning, to say the least.

We left La Ventana and headed south to Los Cabos for the last two nights and it was along the way that we discovered El Triunfo, a wonderful, small village in the mountains. Not only was the temperature perfect at higher elevation, but the village itself was so peaceful and charming that we had to stop for a while. This town was once the largest city in Baja Sur, due to gold and silver mining in the nineteenth century. The 2010 census, however, places the current population at just over 300. When the gold and silver ran out, so did most of the inhabitants. A highlight for me was the hooded oriole that perched on a blooming cardon cactus and proceeded to gorge himself on the nectar deep inside the cup-shaped blossoms.

Along the way down the Pacific Coast we paused ever so briefly in Todos Santos and Cabo San Lucas. Perhaps it was the heat and dust in Todos Santos, and even though we were prepared for the veritable insanity that is Cabo San Lucas, we kept moving. I have nothing positive to report from those two locations, so I’ll move along, nothing to see there. There’s no doubt that tourism is a huge factor in the economy of Baja as a whole, and especially so on the southern tip, but the chaos is not for this ‘hamster.

We spent our last two days in San Jose del Cabo, a pleasant alternative to Cabo San Lucas. This gave me ample time to explore the one place that was on the top of my list — the Estero de Rio San Jose. The San Jose River forms this estuary and is the largest source of fresh water on the peninsula. It flows from the San Lazaro Peaks near the Tropic of Cancer for about 40 miles before emptying into Sea of Cortez at San Jose. In this predominantly dry landscape, this large swath of green and flowing water was a joy to behold.

The estuary is a protected sanctuary and home to numerous bird species, both resident and migratory. There are ample walking trails and beachfront access to occupy many days. On the shoreline with pounding surf for background music, I observed snowy and semi-palmated plovers, sanderlings, and least sandpipers. Glossy ibises fed in the shallows alongside great egrets and yellow-crowned night herons, while blue grosbeaks, savannah sparrows, and common yellowthroats foraged in the reeds. Farther upstream from the mouth, several species of waterfowl shared the shallows with snowy, reddish, and cattle egrets. A surprising find on the trail was a trio of iguanas basking in the sun. In retrospect, the area around the estuary was as relaxing to me as any place we visited.

After one last stop at the estuary, we reversed the process by returning the rental car and going through customs one more time. With a wonderful two weeks behind us we boarded our plane for a non-stop evening flight back to SeaTac and a late night drive to Bellingham and cooler weather. As it is with any trip we’ve taken, it’s always good to be home. Armed with new perspective about where we live and where we visit, we feel strongly about the place we call home.