Tikal, November 14, 2006

Thick jungle canopy helped block the sun
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I was awakened again at 4:30am by the knocking for the sunrise tour. I should have known it would be a daily occurrence. Ah, well, I was getting used to going to bed soon after dark and getting up before dawn.

Today promised to be the first in which I could bird all day long, without having to be concerned about checking in or out of a hotel. I went through my morning routine, making sure I had extra food and water for the day.

I wasn’t sure which way to go first. I’d already birded all of the major ruins: Group G; the Central Acropolis; Great Plaza and North Acropolis; Plaza of the Seven Temples; Plaza of the Lost World; Tozzer, Maudslay, Mendez, and Maler Causeways; Group H; Complex R and Q (where I’d fallen my first day at Tikal); and Temples I, II, III, IV, V, and VI. They were all equally good, so I took the paths that required the least effort. The thick jungle canopy partially blocked the intense rays of the sun, which was a relief.

Temple IV's thatched roof restroom
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After birding for a couple of hours, I walked toward Temple IV, the highest temple. Birders had reported that standing atop Temple IV at about 10am was a good way to spot hawks rising on the air currents above the jungle canopy. I really wanted to add some hawks to my list.

On my way to the site, I saw movement in the undergrowth off the path. Suddenly I saw a raccoon-sized animal with a long snout and a striped tail, which it held straight up in the air. Then I saw another, and another, and another—large ones and small ones. I counted at least eighteen. I recognized the Coati from photos I’d seen in a wildlife guide before I left home. They were quite tame and came to within a yard or two, probably looking for handouts. It was quite a sight!

Such clean dirt!
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When I reached Temple IV, I watched the tourists climb and descend the almost-vertical, one-way ladders attached to one side of the temple. Several of the tourists were older-looking women, so I asked them how hard it had been. They all encouraged me, saying that I shouldn’t leave without the experience—that the view was worth the climb. They said to take my time, stopping as I needed to, until I reached the top (which couldn’t be seen from the bottom). Well, I thought, I could climb a bit and return to the bottom if I couldn’t make it all the way.

Tikal's Great Plaza, a lesser-photographed side
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It took a while, but I finally reached the top, carrying my chair/pack on my back. A couple had stepped over the barrier rope in order to sit on the shady side at the top of the temple, and I did the same. The view was spectacular. The jungle was a green carpet stretching for miles in every direction, unbroken except for the tops of several other temples in the distance. I sat for a while, resting and taking in the grandeur. I didn’t see any hawks, but a White-necked Jacobin (Hummingbird) hovered in front of me briefly. After I had climbed back down (slowly), I bought a cold bottle of pop from the vendor, quite pleased that I had been able to scale the heights of Temple IV.

Grassy clearing where I took a nap
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Soon after my descent, I saw another group of Coatis. This time I counted twenty-eight! Tourists were all taking photos, except me. I hadn’t brought my camera this day. Later in the day I saw the only Agouti of my trip—a rabbit-like creature with short ears and hind legs longer than the front.

Behind Temple IV I discovered a thatched roof restroom. It was the only restroom I had seen anywhere among the ruins. They had sinks with running water, so I was able to splash some cold water on my face. The guard said not to drink the water (although he did).

In the clearings near the excavations, under the tall trees, workers with handmade brooms were busily sweeping the dirt clean from constantly falling leaves and branches. I saw these sweepers at most of the sites, all day long. These clearings were great places to watch birds—open enough to allow a wide view, but enough cover so that the birds didn’t seem to be bothered by my presence. I set up my chair at one of the clearings to rest and eat some of the food I’d packed, binoculars always at the ready. Then I continued walking through the Lost World and the Plaza of the Seven Temples, to the Great Plaza. I was exhausted.

I found a grassy clearing under some tall trees and sat down to rest. I really needed to lie down. Hmmm. I’d brought along a large garbage bag (in case it rained), so I spread it out on the ground. It didn’t extend far enough, so I rested my legs and feet on the seat of my chair. With my hat as a pillow I was quite comfortable; I think I even drifted off to sleep for a little while. By this time of the day, there were quite a few tour groups passing through the area where I had chosen to rest. No matter. I overheard a few wistful comments from the passers-by. There were no benches.

A group of tourists had surrounded a tree not far from where I rested. I heard their excited voices and rose from my grassy bed to discover the reason for their excitement. It seems a guard had discovered a young Fer de Lance at the base of the tree. It is the most venomous and aggressive of the area’s snakes. I think he called it a Barba Amarilla. We were told that a bite could kill within fifteen minutes. The tourists finally drifted off, after taking lots of photos, and I watched as the guard used a tree branch to pick up the snake and move it to a more isolated spot. He kept dropping it, and the snake was obviously agitated. It didn’t slither away when it was dropped, though. It stood its ground. It took quite a few tries before the guard was finally able to carry it off.

After a full day of birding I was in sore need of a ride back to the entrance. The first two truck drivers I hailed shook their heads, but the third gave me a lift in the back with a couple of workers. They wouldn’t let me stand up this time, though, and it was a jolting ride back, sitting on the hard metal floor of the truck.

I headed straight for the hotel, still needing to cash those traveler’s checks. Still not enough quetzals, I was told (with the Eagles singing in the background)—wait another hour. As long as I had to wait, I asked about buses to Coban. There was an early morning minibus to Flores where I could catch a bus to Coban for 600 quetzals, I was told. But, I asked, wasn’t there a bus from Tikal straight to Coban? There was a taxi (personal driver), I was told, but it would be much more expensive. After a while, the desk clerk (finally a new one, who seemed much more efficient) told me that another woman had been asking questions about leaving for Coban and that I should go talk to her, which I did. She had bought a ticket on the 5:30am minibus for the following morning and was going to take her chances in Flores to catch the 10am bus to Coban, with no reservations. I wasn’t willing to take that chance. I didn’t want to spend another night in Flores. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to leave Tikal yet, so I wished her well and went on my way. The hotel, finally, had some quetzals, and I was able to change some traveler’s checks.

Back in my room I checked my socks hanging in the shower. Still wet after two days. I noticed the straps to my smaller backpack were tearing. It was time to lighten my load some more and discard it. I made several piles on the bed of things I really needed, things I no longer needed, and things somewhere in-between. Then off to shower and bed.