Synopsis: The climb from Guango Lodge into the fog‑shrouded páramo unfolded as a dramatic journey through wind, altitude, and high‑Andean specialists—culminating in rare encounters, fleeting moments of luck, and a gradual descent back into the familiar embrace of the cloudforest.

Ecuador Birding – Where Every Feather Tells a Story
From October 26, 2025 through November 8, 2025 I joined 5 other adventurers and an outstanding photographer and birding guide (Liron Gertsman) with Eagle-Eye Tours to Ecuador. This blog series highlights the animals (mostly birds), people and locations we encountered over the 14 full days in this beautiful land.
A Reflections of the Natural World Blog Post Series by Jim Gain
**Due to the high resolution and quality of the images in this blog series it is highly recommended
that readers view posts in Landscape Mode on a desktop PC from the actual blogsite at Ecuador Birding**
DAY 6 – Mid-Morning
Into the Unknown…

The climb toward the Papallacta highlands began the moment we left the shelter of Guango’s gardens, trading the soft greens of the cloudforest for a landscape shaped by wind, altitude, and foggy skies where visibility shrank to almost nothing and every curve in the road felt like entering the unknown. The trees disappeared entirely, replaced by ghostly shapes of páramo vegetation barely visible through the shifting white curtain. Grasses shimmered only when the fog briefly thinned, their metallic blades appearing and vanishing like mirages, while cushion plants clung low to the earth in muted, colorless patches. Even the ridgelines—so vast and open on clear days—were reduced to faint, momentary silhouettes that dissolved as quickly as they appeared, adding to the sense that we were climbing into a place suspended between earth and sky.

The fog thickened as we climbed higher, and by the time we reached the cluster of radio antennas near the summit, the páramo had vanished into a world of white. Visibility shrank to barely twenty‑five feet, the landscape dissolving into shifting curtains of mist that moved like living breath across the ridge. The wind carried a cold, metallic edge, and every sound—our footsteps, a distant bird call, even the hum of the antennas—felt muted, swallowed by the fog. It was a disorienting, almost otherworldly arrival, as if we had stepped into the sky itself and the ground had yet to decide whether to hold us.

Descending from the 14,000‑foot ridge, each step felt like an effort, the thin air forcing us into a slow, deliberate rhythm as we made our way down from the radio antennas. The fog that had swallowed the summit began to loosen its grip, thinning into drifting veils that revealed brief windows into the páramo around us. As the landscape emerged in fragments—tufts of golden grass, scattered shrubs, dark volcanic rock—so did the birds that call this harsh, wind‑swept world home.
High‑Elevation Specialists
White‑chinned Thistletail
From the wind‑bent shrubs, a restless silhouette emerged.

The first bird to reveal itself was the White‑chinned Thistletail, weaving through the dense páramo vegetation with the frenetic energy typical of high‑Andean furnariids. Its long, ragged tail and warm brown plumage flickered between the wind‑bent shrubs as it moved in rapid bursts, using its stiffened tail feathers for balance. At this altitude, it stays low to the ground where the vegetation offers shelter from the relentless wind, probing for insects tucked deep within cushion plants. Its constant motion is a direct adaptation to the cold—burning energy to stay warm in the thin, icy air.
Andean Tit‑Spinetail
A flicker of buff and motion traced the edges of the páramo grass.

A moment later, the Andean Tit‑Spinetail materialized, equally restless as it darted between stalks of páramo grass. Its buffy face and streaked upperparts flashed in quick, jittery movements, giving the impression of a bird perpetually in motion. This species specializes in gleaning insects from the bases of grass clumps, a niche that allows it to thrive where few other birds can forage efficiently. Its rapid activity helps it maintain body heat, and its compact body shape reduces heat loss in the frigid, oxygen‑poor environment..
Many‑striped Canastero
Then a streaked figure rose from the tawny grasses, perfectly matched to its world.

A Many‑striped Canastero popped up next, its streaked plumage blending perfectly with the tawny grasses. This species is built for the open páramo—its long tail acts as a counterbalance as it bounds between grass tussocks, and its streaked pattern provides excellent camouflage against predators in the exposed landscape. It forages by probing deep into the bases of grass clumps, where insects shelter from the cold, and its persistent, methodical movements reflect a bird adapted to making the most of sparse high‑elevation resources.
Chestnut‑winged Cinclodes
Along the rocky roadside, a sturdy forager stepped into view.

A Chestnut‑winged Cinclodes worked the roadside edges with its characteristic bobbing gait. Its warm chestnut wings and contrasting pale eyebrow stood out against the muted páramo palette, but its behavior was all business—probing the wet soil and rocky edges for invertebrates washed out by overnight frost. Cinclodes are masters of cold, wind‑scoured habitats, and this species’ dense plumage and low, ground‑oriented foraging style help it conserve heat while exploiting food sources that other birds overlook.
Grass Wren
From deep within a shrub, a tiny voice announced its hidden presence.

A Grass Wren delivered a burst of song from deep within a shrub, its voice surprisingly powerful for such a small bird. Its barred flanks and subtly patterned brown plumage allow it to disappear completely into the páramo vegetation, where it moves mouse‑like through the bases of shrubs and grass clumps. At this elevation, its tendency to stay low and hidden is a survival strategy—using the vegetation as insulation against the biting wind while it searches for insects in sheltered microhabitats.
Plumbeous Sierra Finch
On a lone rock above the tundra, a slate‑gray sentinel waited in the cold morning light.

Finally, a Plumbeous Sierra Finch perched obligingly on a rock, its slate‑gray plumage matching the muted tones of the páramo. This species is one of the hardiest high‑Andean finches, often braving exposed perches where it scans for seeds and small insects. Its thick bill is perfectly suited for cracking the tough páramo seeds that persist even in cold conditions, and its calm, deliberate movements contrast sharply with the frenetic energy of the furnariids around it. The finch’s ability to forage in open, windswept areas speaks to its remarkable tolerance for cold, thin air and extreme temperature swings.
A Moment of Luck with a Target Bird
Tawny Antpitta
Then, in a brief clearing of fog and silence, the impossible became visible.

As the fog continued to lift, I wandered a little farther down the road on my own. The air was still thin, but the visibility had improved enough to scan the shrubs ahead. That’s when luck intervened. One of the many calling but unseen Tawny Antpittas finally revealed itself, hopping up to the top of a nearby shrub and singing briefly in full view. It was one of those fleeting, heart‑pounding moments—just long enough for a few photographs before it vanished back into the mist. I tried to call the others over, but the bird slipped away too quickly, leaving me with a memory and a few precious frames.
The Descent Toward Lunch at Restaurante Mi Lagunita
Variable Hawk
As we continued dropping in elevation, the sky offered its own reminder of the wildness above us.

A Variable Hawk appeared overhead, circling in wide, effortless loops as if riding the very breath of the mountains. Its pale underwings flashed against the thinning fog, and for a moment it seemed to escort us down the winding road. Watching it soar so confidently in the thin air underscored just how harsh—and how alive—this high‑Andean world truly is.
Quijos Sign & Shrine
Farther down the slope, the landscape shifted from stark páramo to hints of human presence.

We soon reached the curious Quijos sign and shrine, a small but striking landmark that felt like a threshold between ecosystems. It marked our transition from the raw, wind‑scoured heights toward the more sheltered valleys below. From there, we continued on toward Restaurante Mi Lagunita at Laguna Papallacta, our much‑anticipated lunch stop.
Andean Gulls
Even before lunch arrived, the lake delivered a moment I’d been hoping for.

While waiting to be seated, a pair of Andean Gulls swept across the water in full breeding plumage—the clean white heads, dark hoods, and crisp wing patterns unmistakable. They passed close enough for us to admire their elegance before banking sharply and disappearing over the lagoon. For a species high on my trip‑target list, it was a perfectly timed encounter.
Purple‑backed Thornbill
And just before we loaded back into the van, the mountains offered one last surprise.

After a delicious lunch with sweeping views of the laguna, we lingered outside long enough to catch extremely distant views of a Purple‑backed Thornbill, one of the high‑elevation hummingbirds I’d hoped to see. Even at range, its tiny silhouette and rapid wingbeats were unmistakable—an improbable spark of life in the cold, open heights. It was a brief sighting, but a satisfying one, rounding out a morning full of unexpected gifts from the páramo.
Returning to Guango Lodge

After lunch, we made our way back toward Guango Lodge, descending fully out of the highlands and into the familiar embrace of the cloudforest. The feeders and river trails welcomed us once again, offering a softer, greener counterpoint to the stark beauty of the páramo and a fitting close to a day that spanned some of the Andes’ most dramatic elevational contrasts.
NEXT UP: EB#53 “Back to the Cloudforest: A Gentle Afternoon at Guango Lodge“
Additional Photographs








Previous Ecuador Birding Blog Posts:

>>Ecuador Birding Blog Home Page Link https://reflectionsofthenaturalworld.com/ecuador-birding/
*This Ecuador Birding blog post was shaped and polished with the assistance of Microsoft Copilot, helping bring clarity and a consistent flow to my field notes and dictated memories.
**Unless otherwise indicated in the image caption, all photographs (>99%) are mine.








Leave a comment