There's a colony of about a dozen of the frogs within a few yards. Bright and conspicuous, they are advertising that it's not a good idea to touch them. When our companions do touch the frogs, we warn them not to touch their eyes or lips with their fingers.
"What are they?" we ask. "Does anyone know?" Maria Alice has a colleague at Rio de Janeiro State University who is a frog specialist, and we'll ask him later. We've done this before and the answer has sometimes been that no one has seen the species before.
We descend down into the valley, below where the black-and-gold cotingas whistle. Soon we're hearing a frenzy of bellbirds—crow-size, white cotingas, that sound like cracked bells.
The forest canopy is now far above our heads, and the going is more open, flatter. We come to a real trail.
For the first time in days, we can stride along, rather than tentatively place each foot down. I feel warm. My clothes are drying.
Three hours after we started, we're in the open pasture Gilmar and I saw from the mountain yesterday. We hike along another trail, find another clearing, and hike some more. Then, in the next clearing, there's a tractor.
How many people can you fit on one tractor? Ten—and their equipment—is the impossible answer.
We ride down a narrow valley trail that a 4x4 would not navigate, then around the granite domes of Três Picos. Not fast, not elegant, but warmer and drier with each slow bumpy mile. Eventually we stiffly walk the last few yards to the hot showers.
By 7 p.m. we're on the beach in Rio, discussing Maria Alice's plans for the next leg of her expedition.
We should already be at the new site, near the town of Araras, about 250 miles (400 kilometers) away. Maria Alice will need a day to regroup, check the equipment, buy food, and most important, find another helicopter pilot.
I will now miss Araras, for I must leave on Friday night. In any case, my body demands I spend tomorrow soaking in a hot bath and drying my gear.
Thursday, December 11, 2003
Two day later there's so much excitement in Maria Alice's apartment as we pack the food and organize and check the equipment. In an instant, they're off, and I'm alone.
I wash my gear, write my notes, check my e-mail, and enjoy a beer on the beach. After dinner I listen to the BBC World Service.
I'm not expecting a phone call, but Maria Alice has excellent reception from high on the ridge at Araras—exactly where the team should be, exactly where I should be. "Wish you were!"
Friday, December 12, 2003
This morning, the phone rings again. "We have gray-winged cotingas calling all around us," Maria Alice tells me. You really should be here!"
Yes, I think, I really should be.
<< Previous | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4
Stuart Pimm is Doris Duke Chair of Conservation Ecology at the Nicholas School of the Environment and Earth Sciences at Duke University in North Carolina. He is also Extraordinary Professor in the Conservation Ecology Research Unit, University of Pretoria, South Africa, and a member of the National Geographic Society's Committee for Research and Exploration.
For pictures, a map, and more on Brazil's Atlantic forest, see "The Rain Forest in Rio's Backyard," from the new issue of National Geographic.
Scroll to the bottom of this page to see a list of related sites and stories.
|
SOURCES AND RELATED WEB SITES
|
