By Adam Gellman, of University of Vermont
After over a month of living in Patagonia, studying the ecology and completing several trips into remote areas, we thought that we had seen what Patagonia had to throw at us. We were gearing up for our next research expedition and after checking the weather for nearby Chile Chico, we weren’t worried; the forecast called for mild temps and low precipitation. We packed the vans with 13 people and 9 days of food. We set off on our 8 hour drive down washboard roads blasting road trip tunes and staring at the scenery reminiscent of Wyoming.
At the end of that long drive we reached Jeinimeni; a remote piece of reserved land full of old growth forests, glacially carved lakes, and incredible snowcapped peaks within Patagonia National Park. This area near the Argentinian border recently became a part of Patagonia National Park: a conglomeration of two national reserves and a large chunk of land purchased by Tompkins Conservation and then donated to the Chilean government. The development of this national park has been controversial but it overall represents a step forward for conservation in a country that relies heavily on mining and the extraction of natural resources.
While we were floored by the scale of the scenery, we came for the old growth forests rather than the peaks above. These unique forests are the habitat of the Magellanic woodpeckers, an incredible bird that only exists in Patagonian old growth lenga forests. These birds are the 3rd largest woodpeckers in the world at over 40cm tall, have no natural predators, and have huge territorial ranges in their specific habitat. Their size also contributes to slow development; juveniles can stick around up to two years so the adults only breed every 2 years. Adult Magellanics mate for life and every breeding season build nest cavities only in the ancient trees that are unaffected by logging.
Our goal for the trip was to survey the forest and find the nests for further monitoring to increase understanding of how these birds breed. Planning on a map from the comfy seats next to the woodstove in Cochrane, the plan seemed so simple. We get there, the guardaparques (Chilean Park Rangers) give us a few tips about how to survey for the nests, we trot through the woods in small groups and should be able to cover a new chunk of the park every day. Piece of cake…right?
When we got to the park, we met with the guardaparques and they described to us not only the painstaking process of combing of every tree in the forest, but also the incredibly high Puma population in the area and how we should avoid being alone in between the evening and early morning. Needless to say, late night bathroom runs became a bit more tense. The rangers would be with us on the first day for the area near the Admin Center but then we would pack up 6 days of food and hike out deeper into the park to track nests in further out forests. We walked to the start of our survey section and eventually formed a chaotic line with 16 people spread at intervals of 30 feet. We then proceeded to bushwhack our way through the dense renoval (new growth forest) to reach the large trees that could house the woodpeckers. Chaos ruled the day as we fought through thick brush and played a 300 foot game of telephone. However, by the end of the day our efforts paid off! We found a potential nest and while we collected data on the nest, a large adult male Magellanic flew overhead, tapped on a tree and flew off. We were ecstatic as we went back to camp and prepared for our next week of surveys.
The next day, we packed up our gear and walked one of the most jaw-droppingly beautiful trails any of us had ever seen to reach an unassuming patch of woods that we would call home for the next few days. Snowflakes started to float down after dinner but we didn’t think much of it. The next morning, we were shaking the snow off our tents and intently waiting for coffee water to boil. We were becoming acutely aware that field research is world away from the labs that we have all become used to at college. We had to revise our plan to collect data that morning since we couldn’t see the fresh woodchips on the ground with the snow cover. But as soon as we put on our packs and stepped out of the woods to look out over the lake, we instantly forgot about our damp and chilly gear. Fresh snow covered every surface with the mountains glistening white and the brilliant blue glacial lake reflecting every face of the peaks above.
We trekked farther up the valley to a small remote site that we hoped would thaw out by afternoon. We took our time, getting in tune with the plants and animals of the area. Crossing the snowmelt river instantly froze our feet but soon we were at our windy lunch spot on the shore of Lago Verde with granite towers above and glaciers at the far end of the lake. We then entered a patch of woods that has never been touched by logging, and as we wandered through the forest of giants, we knew we were somewhere special. We scoured the entire patch of forest, even finding a potential nest and spotting another live woodpecker.
Late in the afternoon we hiked back, crossing the icy river again, and enjoyed a deliciously hot meal, but by the next morning, we were greeted with another snowstorm. After two days into this pattern of slow hiking, cold river crossings and intermittent snow, my squelching toes were pretty numb and unhappy. But even with all the difficulties, we got in a steady pattern of systematically surveying the woods. Over the next few days the weather and my toes improved (as did the cooking!) and we found new nests and woodpeckers almost every day. Soon our little campsite in the valley felt as much like home as anywhere we had stayed in our time in Patagonia.
As we prepared ourselves for heading back to the “big city” of Cochrane, that funny thing happened that keeps us all coming back to the woods. We looked back on our week of laughs, panoramic views, frozen toes, spotting a woodpeckers and hot meals huddled under the communal tarp, and we realized that we weren’t ready to leave. This place opened our eyes to what it takes to collect the field data that we take for granted. We were forced to roll with the hand mother nature dealt to and to move past personal discomfort to help achieve our goal of learning more about these incredible birds.