Birding in B.C.

I was traveling on business last week in Vancouver, British Columbia to help train a new technical support team that Kodak is setting up. The weather forecast called for rain all week, so I left my top-shelf Canon 40D birding camera at home, opting for the compact Panasonic Lumix TZ3 instead.

As it turned out, the weather alternated between overcast, rain and partly cloudy days with a respectable amount of sun. So in the end I regretted not bringing my DSLR, but figured it would be a good chance to challenge myself with my little "pocket rocket's" 10x zoom lens. Long days don't provide much of an opportunity for birding during the week, but I did have a free Saturday so I planned a couple of trips that sounded promising.

First up was a trip to Brackendale. It's a popular wintering spot for thousands of Bald Eagles (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) each year. By late March most of them have left for the year, but I'd been told that there would probably be a few eagles around despite the late date. Besides, the drive up the costal highway toward the mountains promised to be filled with Pacific pulchritude.

I set out around 7:30 for the 45 minute drive north. Passing through famous Stanley Park, I hit the highway, and was met by glorious mountain vistas:


Unfortunately the coastal highway is under construction for just about the entire trip. Brackendale is up near Squamish and Whistler Mountain, which will play host to the Olympic skiing venue during the 2010 Winter games in Vancouver. The government is madly at work widening the highway to accomodate the anticipated traffic.

So the beauty of sea and mountain was marred by construction vehicles and Jersey barriers. Still, it was an impressive site, with snow-topped Matterhorn peaks reaching into the sky. The 40 minute drive stretched into an hour and a half, but I was in no particular hurry.

Arriving in the town of Squamish I traded highways for two-lane government roads on the last few kilometers, and found the turnoff for Brackendale without too much trouble. The public viewing area is sandwiched between tribal land and private property, and stretches for about 500 meters along an earthen dyke. Crossing the road I climbed the small rise and surveyed the landscape before me:
     

A cold breeze accompanied the morning sun as I walked the length of the dyke in search of eagles. I found none, but these waterfowl were much in evidence. I think they're Common Goldeneyes (Bucephala Clangula), but my waterfowl ID skills are pretty poor:


The southern border of the public viewing area ended at a chain-link fence with a slightly menacing sign advertising the presence of a "Security Dog". I wonder if it was referring to this guy:


Maybe not a full-blooded Malamute, but he's close. He certainly displayed a Mal's aloofness, not deigning to relinquish his comfy spot despite my whistled call. I left him to his sunning after shooting a few pictures and walked back up the dyke.

High up I spotted a big bird circling near the bend in the river. I hustled forward for a closer look through my binoculars, then lined up the camera for a few shots:
     

I think this was a second year bird, but the distance was too great for a good look. I stayed for nearly two hours hoping for more sightings, but unfortunately that was as close as I got to an eagle at Brackendale. November to February is the most active period for them here, so I'll just need to plan another trip for the winter time.


I prefer cameras with optical viewfinders, but fewer models are being made with them these days. In the case of my TZ3 I understand why it lacks this feature-- building an optical viewfinder that could handle a 10x zoom lens is a tall order, plus it would take up real estate on the rear of the chassis that could be used for controls or the LCD. As it turns out, though, shooting with an LCD has its advantages. By putting the LCD in your line of sight you can keep an eye on the road while you take the shot. BTW, I don't recommend that anyone do this, since any kind of distraction is a potential disaster. On the way back to Vancouver I took a few more shots of the construction as well as the scenery:
     

As I neared the city, I was surprised to see an adult Bald Eagle fly low over the highway right in front of me! I didn't have my camera at the ready then, but it was the highlight of the morning, and definitely made the trip worthwhile.

That eagle turned out to be a harbinger. I grabbed lunch back in the city, then set off for my afternoon destination, the Reifel Bird Sanctuary. Located about an hour south of Vancouver, it promised lots of sightings.

Even before I arrived, I hit paydirt. As I got closer to the sanctuary, I could see several eagles soaring and circling overhead. To my amazement as I drove up a local road approaching a construction company, I found this gorgeous eagle sitting in a tree by the roadside, not twenty feet up!


I pulled my rental car over and grabbed my camera, certain that the bird would take off as soon as I opened the door, but it sat there, quite unperturbed, while I took picture after picture:


I couldn't afford to spend much time with the eagle because the sanctuary was due to close at 4:00, so I continued on my way. Arriving a short time later, I parked, dodging geese and Mallards that were thick in the parking lot. An adjacent pond held scores of Mallards and a smattering of other swimmers like this American Coot (Fulica americana):


I paid my $4.00 entry fee, grabbed a map, and was just about to head for the trails, when the man behind me in line asked the woman on the other side of the booth what interesting birds were around.

"Oh, what are you interested in?" she asked.

"How about owls?" said he.

"We have a Great Horned Owl nest that's easy to see," she answered.

That got my attention. I listened to her directions and set off straightaway. It wasn't long before I found a group of school children being led by one of the sanctuary's staff members, all staring up at a gnarled tree with a broken trunk. I looked up through the tangle of branches, and there she was:


I was astonished at the view. She wasn't even fifteen feet (5 meters) up. It was a rare find, especially to see one in such good light. The staffer said she was brooding two owlets a couple of weeks old. Across a small marsh stood a group of well-equipped birders, with Nikon cameras, long telephoto lenses and carbon-fiber tripods. I started to join them when a great cacophany filled the air. Overhead passed hundreds of Lesser Snow Geese (Chen caerulenscens):


They were headed for the open fields surrounding the sanctuary, looking for a bite to eat and a place to rest for the evening, according to the staffer. He also mentioned that the male Great-Horned Owl (Bubo virginianus) was sitting in a pine tree only a little farther down the lane. I made the short walk, and was rewarded by another excellent view:
     

He was huge and magnificent! He too took little notice of all the attention he recieved from the many spectators below. Amazed, I took my fill of pictures then headed back to the marsh for a better look at the nesting mother owl.

Though farther away, the angle was much better. Now I wished I'd brought my Canon, but the Panasonic's 10x zoom lens did an admirable job of closing the distance:


I engaged one of the photographers in conversation, and he gave me a look through his camera, which he'd set up with a 400mm lens and a 2x teleconverter. His shots were excellent, as expected. When one of the owlets peeked out from under its mother's wing, shutters clicked madly, including my own:


I could have stayed all day, but I wanted to try to see the rest of the sanctuary, or at least as much of it as I could, before it closed. I left the marsh and the owls, returning to the perimeter path. Along the way I found this pair of Wood Ducks (Aix sponsa) preening in tandem on an old log:


A little further on I found some American Wigeons (Anas americana) foraging in the short grass...


And in a nearby pond a Lesser Scaup (Aythya affinis):


Both are life birds for me-- common enough I'm sure, but for someone who doesn't normally seek out waterfowl they were fun finds.

As the hour drew towards closing time, the clouds closed in too. The Reifel Sanctuary had one more surprise for me, though:

Lesser Sandhill Cranes (Grus canadensis)!

It turned out to be a nesting pair, and signs warned visitors to be cautious around them, as they're know to be aggressive when strangers come too close to their nests. The pair vocalized a couple of times when an ill-mannered (or ignorant) visitor got too close, but for the most part they tolerated our presence pretty well, and most of the viewers kept a discreet distance. The Mallards didn't read the memo apparently, because they were all over the place. I think this one was mocking the crane:


They're impressive, striking birds, worthy of imitation:
     

I stayed as long as I could, but eventually I had to return to the hotel to pack for my trip home on Sunday. On the way out of the sanctuary I found a flock of Snow Geese in a field. I pulled over for a picture:


Suddenly, and for no reason that I could see, an alarm went up. In seconds the air was choked with beating wings. I caught the action with the TZ3's burst mode:
          

The Reifel Sanctuary is definitely on my list for an all day trip! Dawn and I both have relatives nearby, so returning to Vancouver for a vacation is a no-brainer. Timing will be important, to make sure we can see plenty of the Brackendale eagles and I'll bring along the good camera gear, but I think all in all the Lumix TZ3 did an admirable job. Vancouver is an interesting city, well-mannered and clean. It'll make a great vacation destination, and I'm already looking forward to the journey.

Visiting the Bahamas

A weekend Optometric conference at the tony Atlantis resort on Paradise Island in the Bahamas provided the perfect entrée to a tropical vacation for Dawn and me. Coming at the end of September allowed us to avoid the heavy crowds of the high season, a definite bonus in my book. I took a chance on this vacation, electing to leave my Canon 20D and it's howitzer lens at home, opting for complete reliance on my recently purchased Panasonic Lumix TZ3. It's built for travelers (the model name means Travel Zoom 3), so I figured I'd put it through its paces and see if my photography would suffer for not having a digital SLR with all of its flexibility at my command. You can judge for yourself whether I made the right choice-- All of the pictures in this post were taken with the TZ3.

So it was with excitement aplenty that we set out on Thursday morning for sunny Paradise Island. Our usual dubious vacation luck kicked in early though. Weather and a balky main door on our Canadair regional jet out of Rochester delayed our departure, cutting our nominal 50 minute layover at Atlanta's Hartfield-Jackson airport to a scant quarter hour by the time we pulled up to the gate. As so often is the case, our connection gate was at the far end, two terminals away, and with Dawn's reduced mobility from her recent knee surgery we were probably doomed to miss our flight from the start. As it was, we hoofed it as best we could to the gate only to find that the plane had pulled away a few minutes earlier. Angry and frustrated, Dawn sat down to fume while I called Delta Airlines (the last time we'll fly with them, I think) to re-book. Since all of that is done at the international terminal in Atlanta, we started walking again, then stood in line for what seemed like a long time at the counter. As luck would have it, we'd missed the last flight of the day to Nassau, but because our missed connection was due to weather, the airline did arrange lodging for us at a nearby hotel. It wasn't free, but we paid the airline's reduced room rate. Our luggage was nowhere to be found, though we were assured it had continued on to Nassau and we'd be able to pick it up.

Disposable toiletries in hand, we took the short shuttle bus ride to the Comfort Inn. Our room was a far cry from the luxury of the Atlantis resort of our destination, but it was cozy and clean, and at less than $60USD I really couldn't complain, all things considered:


We decided to make the most of the situation, and headed to the hotel's Mexican-themed restaurant for some dinner and margueritas:


We caught an early flight out of Atlanta the next morning, but since it's the busiest airport in the US, it was already crowded as we headed up the escalator to catch our flight:


We had great weather for the trip out to the islands, and I took the opportunity to grab a few pictures using the camera's Airplane scene mode:
          

The taxi ride from Nassau airport took a little more than a half hour on narrow coastal roads. Downtown Nassau was bumper to bumper, the sidewalks swarming with tourists from the quartet of garganutan cruise ships anchored at the harbor. We arrived at the hotel around lunchtime, and at check-in we were surprised to learn that we were to be lodged at one of the beachside villas rather than in the resort's soaring towers. It was a long walk to the villa, but an unexpected reward awaited us. The villas shared their real estate with a series of small artifical lagoons that teemed with wild ocean life. Literally steps outside our door was the Nursery Lagoon, home to Bonnethead (Sphyrna tiburo) and Reef shark (Carcharhinus amblyrhynchos) pups:


Only a few yards away another lagoon held 9 or 10 Nurse sharks (Ginglymostoma cirratum):


It turned out that we'd not only landed in a high-style resort, but a world-class marine park too! We spent the rest of the day getting our bearings and louging on the glorious white sand beach.

Dawn had meetings to attend the next morning so I availed myself of the opportunity to scout Atlantis in more detail and to take some pictures of the grounds:
     

One of the marine park's many highlights is the Predator Lagoon. A transparent tunnel runs beneath the water, allowing for some unrivalled views of the many carnivorous denizens of the deep:


Here's a Giant Grouper (Epinephelus itajara). These huge fish can be found in several areas of the park, often gathered together in twos and threes:

They're also known as Jewfish, because it is believed that the Giant Grouper (or one of its taxonomic cousins) may have been the "whale" in the Biblical story of Jonah.

Some of the other fish in the lagoon include reef sharks and Barracuda (Sphyraena barracuda):
     


Named for the mythic city of antiquity, Atlantis is a resort with a theme. The tunnel exits in a domed rotunda that's illuminated with ancient frescoes depicting all manner of sea creatures:


On my return trip through the tunnel I encountered some of the many "Seakeepers" who maintain the complex marine sanctuary:
     

The tunnel is a great way to view the inhabitants of the lagoon. This docile Southern Stingray (Dasyatis americana) skimmed along overhead providing an atypical perspective:


Of course it's possible to see the lagoon from above too. A rope suspension bridge crosses over the water, allowing visitors to spy some of the inhabitants like this Hammerhead Shark (Sphyrna mokarran):
     

The luxury of Atlantis surrounds the guests. Waterfalls like this one are common:

The TZ3 doesn't have a means to control the shutter speed directly, so a bit of creativity is needed to get the kind of shot that captures the water's motion. As you can see, I was only partially successful. Other amenities of the luxury resort include an inviting marina where a number of very expensive yachts were tied up:
     

On my way back to the villa I spotted this Queen Triggerfish (Balistes vetula) enjoying the morning sun:


At the Stingray Lagoon I encountered a Cownose Ray (Rhinoptera bonasus):

It seems no matter which way you look, there's a new marvel to see.

---

The Atlanteans left behind a mysterious city, much of it still submerged beneath the sea. Crossing through the resort's casino, modern-day explorers descend into The Dig to retrace the steps of the city's long-dead citizenry:


Our journey begins in an antechamber that still bears the camp furniture used by those intrepid adventurers who discovered and mapped the city's ruins:
     

Many of the portals are adorned with hieroglyphic script, perhaps the forerunner of the Egyptian and Greek alphabets. The architecture has a proto-Egyptian feel as well:
          

Niches held amphorae, doubtless filled with oil and wine and destined for trade with the Atlanteans' neighbors, now home to these Moray eels:


A central navigation chamber features a tri-axial, planetarium-style map, the skeleton of a 4-person submarine, and a number of undersea exploration suits. The city walls are adorned with the work of long-dead artisans:
          

The ruins are indeed awe-inspiring, but now their broad avenues are visited only by creatures of the deep like Giant groupers and this Spotted Eagle Ray (Aetobatus narinari):
          

Perhaps the most impressive of the city's current residents are these Giant Mantas (Manta birostris):


One of the downsides to taking vacation in autumn is that we were firmly in the rainy season. After a couple of good weather days the clouds started to roll in. Still, the view from the pool was pretty impressive:


The wind-driven surf lashed at the beach, keeping away all but the most adventurous-- or foolhardy-- swimmers:
     

Still it wasn't all bad news. The off-shore storms made for some nice rainbows even as the winds bowed the on-shore palms:
     

After dinner one evening at Fathoms, a gourmet seafood restaurant on the resort with great underwater views of the Ruins Lagoon (we sat next to the viewing window you see on the website), we headed outside and got a great look at a passing Manta:


The heavy surf continued for the rest of our stay on Paradise Island, so we were obliged to find our entertainment elsewhere. Fortunately, there's plenty to do in Atlantis. Among its features is an extensive water park. The Mayan Temple waterslide features a 60 foot (20 meter) drop down a nearly vertical chute that leads to an underwater tunnel through the lagoon before spitting its rider out into a pool. I handed the camera to Dawn and gave it a try:
     

Yep, that's me, screaming all the way down! The terror was transitory enough, and we recovered with a bit of sunbathing at one of the resort's five swimming pools, then enjoyed lunch at the Lagoon Cafe. I ordered Conch salad, a local favorite that's more like a spicy seafood gazpacho. Here's Dawn, enjoying a tasty frozen adult beverage:


After lunch we took another tour through the Predator Lagoon tunnel. In addition to more views of the ubiquitous Giant Groupers, we got a surprise overhead pass from a Small-toothed Sawfish (Pristis pristis):
     

It took a few tries before I got a good shot of this guy:

It's a French Angelfish (pomacanthus paru)-- thanks to reader Joyce for the ID! I had to wait for it to turn into the light to get the yellow highlights on its scales.

Adjacent to the marina is a small village of shops that peddle high-end jewelry, clothes and leather goods. We took a walk there for dinner and a bit of shopping.

Impresive as it is in the daylight, Atlantis really shines at night:
     

On our last full day at Atlantis we spent some time shadowing the Seakeepers while they made the rounds feeding the animals in the various lagoons. After catching a shot of a colorful fish in one of the cave-like aquaria near our villa, our first stop was Turtle lagoon:
          

The sign may have warned us not to go into the habitat of the sea turtles, but that obviously didn't apply to the Seakeepers. Here's one of them feeding squid to the eager Green Sea turtles:


Just so you don't think the turtles were on a heavy Atkins diet, the salad course was next. The Seakeeper opened a big bag and invited the guests to grab handfuls of romaine lettuce which we tossed to the turtles below:
     

Next stop was the Stingray Lagoon, home to a dozen or more Cownose and Southern rays:


The Seakeeper handed out headless fish for us and instructed us on the proper feeding technique, holding the fish by the tail and waggling it underwater to get the attention of the rays. The Cownose were pretty shy. Not so the Southerns, which devoured everything that was offered. This one swam right up over my arm and sucked the fish out of my hand:
     

The afternoon feeding at the Predator Lagoon was strictly for the professionals. We stood at the edge and watched. Here's a couple of Sawfish swimming in the shallow end:
     

I had a chance to try out the Panasonic's macro capability on this Hibiscus:


We spent five days at Atlantis, but all good things have to end. On our way to check out, I caught this delightful pufferfish and starfish near the cafe where we had breakfast:


We didn't see a huge variety of birds. The usual shore suspects were there of course-- Laughing gulls (Larus atricilla) seemed to predominate. One of the most abundant birds at the resort is the Ruddy turnstone (Arenaria interpres). This one was grabbing a little morning sun on a stone in the Nurse sharks' lagoon.

Among other notables that I saw were a couple of Belted Kingfishers and one Green Heron, which I viewed at very close range, but because I was sans camera, I have no pictures to share.

---

The "casual" birding got better when we arrived at the Orange Hill Inn for the last few days of our stay. Only a couple of miles from the airport, the Orange Hill Inn is everything that Atlantis is not-- quiet, homey and inexpensive. The food was delicious and their honor bar system was a stroke of small-scale genius. Accomodations were comfortable, if not possessed of all the luxury trappings. It was an ideal place to wind down our vacation.

I found some worthwhile subjects to photograph right away. The Bahama Mockingbird (Mimus gundlachii) was a common visitor:


Here's a view of the owners' cottage, with a great overlook at Orange Hill Beach:


The inn had a couple of mascots. They were both friendly and laid back, a perfect fit for the place:
     

But back to the birds. Bananaquits (Coereba flaveola) darted back and forth all over the place, but on occasion they kept still enough for me to get a decent shot or two:
     

Having never been to the tropics before, these were all lifers for me. Here's a Greater Antillean Pewee (Contopus caribaeus), also called a Cuban Pewee:


Here's one I haven't been able to identify. A Vireo or Sparrow of some sort, I suppose, but passerines aren't my forte:


There were other sights as well, including colorful flowers and little lizards that scurried everywhere hunting bugs:
     

I saw a flock of Smooth-billed Anis (Crotophaga ani) on the front lawn one morning, taking short flights amongst the low bushes. I took my camera and binos out onto our second floor balcony to adjust to the humidity, and shot a pair of them when they landed on a branch nearby:

They seem very sociable, at least among themselves. These two spent considerable time grooming each other.

While poolside, I spied this female Cuban Emerald hummingbird when it flew in to feed on some nectar from a hibiscus. I followed it around the grounds and got lucky when it landed briefly in a palm:

That was a real treat, since for whatever reason, I rarely seem to encounter hummers.

I wouldn't blame you for thinking that this was going to be a raptor-less vacation. I thought much the same thing until I saw this pretty American Kestrel (Falco sparverius) claiming the high ground on the central spire of a palm:
     
There were as many as three of them flying around the area and I ended up taking quite a few pictures of them.

As with previous nights, the evening skies made for some colorful vistas:


For our final day in the Bahamas we went for a snorkeling cruise with Stuart Cove's tour company. From snorkeling to scuba, and even submarine tours, they have a very professional, full service operation that offers something for water lovers of every stripe and adventure level.


We snorkeled three reefs, spending about 40 minutes at each one. The first was nice and shallow. It was a great opportunity to put my camera through its paces using the custom marine case. It adds quite a bit of bulk to the camera, but it's waterproof to 40 meters-- a real advantage if I ever decide to take up SCUBA diving.

Once we got into the choppy water it wasn't hard to find some vibrant fish to photograph:
          

Dawn and I traded some photos of each other too:
     

Among the TZ3's many well-designed features is an underwater mode. It makes using the camera's autofocus a little easier, but its real strength lies in removing the blue cast from underwater shots, allowing the subjects' true colors to show:
     

Our second reef was a little deeper. It held the possibility of seeing some Eagle rays, something I'd really been looking forward to, but unfortunately they decided to stay away that afternoon. No worries though-- I contented myself with more reef fish shots. Sometimes the fish were going...

Sometimes coming...

And sometimes they gathered all around.


Our third and final reef promised a bit of excitement, and maybe even danger.


Reef Sharks!


Reef sharks are primarily scavengers and among the least aggressive of their kind, but that didn't stop the adrenaline from pumping when they passed close by!
          
The TZ3's 10x zoom lens is pretty much useless underwater, so I shot all of these at its wide-angle setting, equivalent to a 28mm focal length, which gives some indication of how close the sharks really came. Some looked to be as long as 5 or 6 feet (1.6-1.9 meters), and being eye to eye with one of nature's greatest predator species was a memorable experience to be sure.

Back on deck, the Stuart Cove's crew fed the sharks from the bait box that they'd used to lure the fish:
     

It was a great opportunity for photos, and a perfect way to end the tour. On the bus ride back to the hotel I reviewed the 100+ pictures I'd taken on the TZ3's generous 3-inch LCD screen, and felt sorry for those who'd had only 27 exposures in their disposable underwater cameras, and who'd have to wait to have their film processed and printed. I received more than one favorable comment about the quality of the pictures, and I suspect I might have made another couple of customers for Panasonic.

We thoroughly enjoyed our Caribbean vacation. Overall I'd give a slight edge to our Maui trip last year, but there was more than enough variety to keep us busy, the travel time to the Bahamas is a lot shorter than the long haul to Hawaii, and since AirTran flies there, we have a viable alternative to Delta the next time we decide to go.

Postcards From Maui - Haleakalā

Haleakalā is the tallest of the two mountains that comprise the island of Maui. The name means "House of the Sun" in the local parlance, and it more than lives up to that appellation. A popular tourist destination, the mountain is also home to a US Air Force observatory and satellite tracking station , ancient volcanic flows and some unique flora.

By far the most popular way to experience the wonders of Haleakalā is to drive to the top of its 10,000 foot summit in the early morning to watch the spectacular Hawaiian sunrise. We were obliged to rise at 2:30 in order to make the two hour drive up the mountain. As the elevation changes, the road narrows and turns into a series of tight switchbacks-- a real challenge for an unfamiliar driver in the blackness of the early morning. As we climbed through the thousands of feet, atmospheric effects distorted the setting moon into a flattened disk that resembled a huge yellow watermelon. Unfortunately we weren't able to find a place to stop for a picture before it dropped beneath the horizon, so we continued burining up the elevation until at last we arrived atop the mountain.

The visitor center parking lot is a few hundred feet below the summit. We found it well filled with cars and tour vans when we arrived. We opened our doors onto a chilly early morning. At 3,000 meters, the temperatures plunged to near freezing and the thin air led to quick fatigue and headaches. We donned coats hats and gloves, and I shouldered my camera pack for the short walk to the overlook. We were amazed to find that scores of people packed onto the rocky ground awaiting the dawn:


Like me, tourists with cameras abounded. Few had digital SLRs, though. Fewer still had big professional lenses and tripods. I was surprised (and thankful) when a man offered me his vantage on a rocky plateau. It took a bit of doing, but I got set up in time to shoot some pre-dawn images. When the sun broke through the clouds below us, a Hawaiian native sang a traditional song to welcome the dawn. Dozens of camera shutters clicked in earnest to capture the moment. Here are a few of my sunrise shots:
          

Armed with our DX6490 camera, Dawn captured her own Kodak moment:


As the sun threw its golden light onto the mountain, its true scale and majesty emerged. Here I am, outfitted for a mountain adventure, sporting a water bottle, utility/camp knife, backpack, warm clothes and of course, my camera. Behind me you can see several lava cones, artifacts of past eruptions on the now dormant volcanic mountain:
     

We moved around the mountain, making liberal use of our cameras and enjoying the awe-inspring vistas laid out before us. I set up the tripod again for a shot with Dawn. A bit later a helpful fellow tourist shot the two of us from above:
     

While we explored the mountaintop, many of the tourists had already gone, perhaps seeking warmer, thicker air at lower elevations. Many others prepared to head down the long road on mountain bikes, a popular way to return to sea level:


We'd hoped to see the Nene, or Hawaiian Goose, one of the few indigenous birds that still survives on the island, but we were unable to find any at the summit. These Chukars (Alectoris chukar), members of the Partridge family, were common enough. This pair cooed at each other while I took their picture:


The landscape is rugged and decidedly otherworldly. By looking in the right direction it was almost possible to imagine that we were walking through a martian landscape instead of standing a few thousand meters above the lush Maui paradise:


The fauna looks alien as well. Unique to the mountain, this Silversword plant lives most of its twenty year span as a ground-hugging spiny orb. At the apogee of its life it transmogrifies into a truly spectacular form, rising into the air and sprouting brilliant purple flowers:
     
It turned out we were a few days late to catch the blooms, which had faded to a dull gray, a harbinger of its impending death.

Atop the summit is a small parking lot and observation building. I took a couple of pictures. Here's Dawn outside the observation building...


...and a tourist taking in the view to the southwest:


On the way down the mountain we took advantage of the many pull-offs at the side of the road to shoot pictures and admire the landscape:
     

The eastern slope of the mountain shows its stark history of volcanic eruption cones and black lava flows:
          

The weather warmed as we descended. At various times our progress was slowed by the bike tours:


These horses were being readied for a trip up the mountain, where they were to be used for tours down into the crater. A horse tour into the Haleakalā crater is on our must do list for our next trip to Maui:


The return to sea level was like coming back to earth from an off-world excursion. Top down on our Mustang, we enjoyed the drive along the coast:
     

Dawn took a shot of "Maui Jim" wearing his Maui Jim's...


A trip to Haleakalā is a must for any tourist on the island. Sunset is also supposed to be spectacular on the summit and the stargazing is said to be unmatched. Around the south side of the mountain is a forest preserve teeming with native Hawaiian tropical birds and elegant waterfalls. All in all, it leaves us plenty to do on our return to Maui.