Trip Report: Bach Ma NP - Songs of the Pheasant Trail

                                          White-rumped Shama

Bach Ma National Park is situated in the Annamite mountain range in Central Vietnam, midway between the cities of Danang and Hue. It's primary habitat is montane evergreen forest. Specialties include Vietnamese Crested Argus, Silver Pheasant, Blyth's Kingfisher, Bar-bellied Pitta and Blue-rumped Pitta. 

Words and photos by Maurizio Saroli

It's 5 o'clock in the morning on the fifth day of Tet. I've decided to ride my motorbike 70 km from Danang to Bach Ma National Park. A place of marvellous natural beauty, demanding terrain and of course exceptional birds. Today I'm going to do a short hike of 5 km from the base to Pheasant Trail which is about 500 m in altitude. It should be fairly easy going. The road is a gentle incline and the trail is not marked as 'difficult' on the park map. What could go wrong?

As I chew on a piece of chung cake and slurp a Saigon iced coffee I remember my phone is in the repair shop, which means I won't have Merlin in my pocket today. I shall have to rely on my own knowledge and skills to identify bird songs and calls. Not a big deal as Merlin isn't well versed in the songs and calls of Vietnamese birds, especially not those of forest habitats. But having no smartphone also means I can't make sound recordings the way I'm accustomed to. Luckily I have an old mp3 player that has a voice recording function. Not ideal, but still handy. I'm also leaving my bluetooth speaker at home since I can't pair my smartphone with it today. To entice vocal birds to come out I'll have to try the traditional method of pishing. I'm a bit skeptical that it'll work though. What I really want is one of those little red squeaker thingamajigs from Audubon. 

The journey from my house to the park is very scenic. In particular the ride over Hai Van Pass; 30 minutes of bliss on a perfectly smooth road which wends its way around steep evergreen slopes, shrouded in cool mists and skirted by tranquil turquoise waters. The birding here ought to be pretty good, but I'm anxious to get to Bach Ma so I keep on going. The QL1A is fairly clear all the way at this time of the morning so I make it to the park by 8 o'clock without a hitch. At the ticket office there are groups of visitors taking cars and vans to the summit. None are birders so I waste no time chatting and head off up the road on foot. 

Immediately on the roadside I hear several species singing and calling; a pair of Greater Racket-tailed Drongos with their metallic zinks and doinks, and two Blue-winged Leafbirds in gorgeous plumage. It's a good start and I'm glad I didn't overlook the foothills of the great mountain this time. Then just as I'm congratulating myself, I hear the exquisite song of a White-rumped Shama. When the songster sees me ogling it, it turns its back to me indignantly, exposing its namesake white rump.

Further up the road it's sunbird and babbler territory. Dark-necked Tailorbird and Pin-striped Tit-babbler are most abundant here, with a dozen individuals noted of each. The odd Indochinese Blue Flycatcher regales me with its ethereal fluting, and a pair of Crimson Sunbirds looking far more beautiful than they sound. One song that continually reverberates off the hillside is the Square-tailed Drongo Cuckoo's series of seven notes rising in pitch like do re mi fa sol la si. 

After two hours the hike becomes a slog. The sun is up and bearing down hard, but the sea breeze and the mountain air temper the heat. The most notable sighting on this part of the trek is a pair of Crested Serpent Eagles soaring just above me in magnificent splendour. An alluring passerine calls from deep in the bushes. I try the pishing method on it but it fails hopelessly. It's a Red-flanked Bluetail on its winter vacation.

I eventually reach the entrance to the Pheasant Trail which is on the other side of the mountain ridge. I was hoping to enjoy the shade on the west-facing slope, but by the time I get there the sun has beaten me to it and continues to harass me. So after a quick rest I head onto the trail. It's named after the Vietnamese Crested Argus, a pheasant species endemic to the montane forests of the Annamite mountains. But it's rarely seen in the park and I don't hold much hope of finding one here, especially at this time of day. The trail is shaded and paved and traces the contours of a deep ravine with a stream at the bottom. A sign says it's 3 km long and takes 60 minutes to walk. I guess the trail culminates at a waterfall or picnic area, which might be a good place to stop for lunch. So I head on down and tell myself I'll walk for an hour at most. I need to make sure there's time to get back, as the park closes at half past five.

Immediately on the trail I see an almost confiding juvenile Siberian Thrush. Then flushed from its perch, a Crested Goshawk flies rapidly, yet at ease, through the close-set trees. I get a good look at it when it perches again. Soon after I'm jumping for joy as I see my target species, the Red-headed Trogon; one that has evaded my attention on every previous visit, this time is more obliging.

At this point I should have counted myself lucky, and maybe hung around quietly for more birds to show up. But curiosity got the better of me and I kept going, even when the going got tough; I mean really tough. At a certain point the trail suddenly descends almost vertically via what looks and feels like a thousand steps. Not long after that it rises up again another million steps or there abouts. I see no other living souls here accept one flee-bitten macaque who follows me all the way, hoping to share (steal) my banh mi. After an hour and a half I make the sensible decision to stop, eat lunch and return the way I came. I never saw what lay at the end of the trail.

On the way back I spot a Mountain Hawk Eagle surveying the ravine on outspread wings. A female Scarlet Minivet is flitting about high in the canopy above my head. Then a roving party of Black-browed Fulvettas, White-bellied Erpornises and Yellow-bellied Warblers lift my spirits with their lively chirping. A unit of three more Blue-winged Leafbirds bring up the rear. An Eyebrowed Wren-babbler perched low on the side of the path disappears as I struggle up towards it; this bird completing the list of ten species seen on the Pheasant Trail. 

Eventually I make it out of the Pheasant Trail alive, with just enough time to trek another 5 km back to base. With my whole body aching and tired I wonder at the winged creatures I came to see. How fortunate they are to fly so freely in this ancient wilderness; how miserable I am to trample along the road under my own body weight. Bach Ma, you beat me again, but I'll be back!

My checklist for the day: https://ebird.org/checklist/S302875862

P.S. Undeterred by the trials of the trail, I returned the following week after writing this blog post. Additional species recorded include the endemic Necklaced Barbet whose incessantly loud call punctuates the soundscape, the Black-throated Laughingthrush with its equally loud song, a mixture of whistling and cackling, the Indochinese Green Magpie whose remarkable song is interspersed with sounds similar to a squeaky hinge and a clunky camera shutter, and the astounding display-flight song of the male Scarlet Minivet as the sunlight appears to shine through its crimson wings.

Crested Serpent Eagle

Crested Goshawk

 

                              

Red-headed Trogon

Maurizio is the founder of Danang Bird Club, a community dedicated to exploring and celebrating birdlife in Central Vietnam. He is also the author of Birdwatching in Central Vietnam, a guide to the region’s rich avian diversity. Originally from London, Maurizio was a member of the British Trust for Ornithology (BTO) and took part in national bird surveys before bringing his passion for ornithology to Vietnam. Through his writing, Maurizio shares his interest in nature, conservation and the joy of birding.