Taiwan: Lifer Mania Part II

After striking pay dirt at the Taipei Botanical Garden, bagging eight lifers in just a few hours, we decided to switch tracks for a little while and experience the more cultural side of Taipei.  Melanie had looked into some of the local temples, and the Xingtian Temple (行天宮) was one of her top picks.

Taipei MRT Map.  Xingtian Temple Station is circled in red.

Xingtian Temple does not have a long history, unlike some of the other temples in Taipei, but it is one of the city’s busiest temples.  It was built in 1967 in honor of Guangong (162-219 CE), a famous general who was deified and worshiped as the god of war and the patron of knights and those who follow a righteous code.  This temple is also significant to people in business, as Guangong was said to be very adept in finances.

Melanie poses in front of the entrance gate at the Xingtian Temple.  Meanwhile, Taipei traffic continues unabated.

The main entrance to the Xingtian Temple.  It may not show well in this photo, but the detail in the carvings adorning the rooftops is simply astonishing.

Inside the Xingtian Temple, supplicants present daily offerings to the deities of the Temple.  The central structure here houses one of the Buddha images in the temple.

At this point we had been birding and sightseeing for half of the day.  Melanie was getting a little tired, so she decided to head back to the hotel and catch up on some reading.  I pressed on and went to the Hua Jiang Wild Duck Nature Park (永續公共工程).  This planned park is nestled along the Tamsui River, and is a short walk from the Longshan Temple MRT station.  From the Longshan Temple station, follow Xiyuan Road, Section 1, north towards Guilin Road.  Make a left onto Guilin, and follow it to the expressway; Hua Jiang is on the other side of the expressway, just take the underpass entrance.

There is a well-traveled bicycle path along the Tamsui River, and this constitutes the main walkway through Hua Jiang.  The park itself offers great views of the river, and has enough diverse habitats to make the birding interesting.  Upon arriving, I was greeted by at least twenty cattle egrets foraging on the lawns.  By this time of year most of the egrets had lost their orange color, so they were a little trickier to identify than usual.  There were also a plethora of mynas, including common mynas and Javan mynas.  Two spotted doves were picking through the grasses.  I decided to head north for awhile, following the river in the hopes of spotting some interesting herons or perhaps some shorebirds.  The water was low in places, revealing mudflats, and hidden in the vegetation I found three Eurasian moorhens and an adult white-breasted waterhen.  A single common sandpiper and common greenshank were the only shorebirds around.  There were also a few black-crowned night-herons, little egrets, and a common kingfisher to the north of the Park.

Common Myna (Acridotheres tristis tristis).  These were very numerous at Hua Jiang.

Javan Myna (Acridotheres javanicus)

A juvenile Cattle Egret (Bubulcus ibis coromandus)

A juvenile Black-crowned Night-heron (Nycticorax nycticorax nycticorax)

Heading south into the heart of Hua Jiang led me past an expansive mudflat area.  In the reeds I found three plain prinias flitting about.  Several groups of shorebirds were out on the flats, including the resident little ringed plovers, a few more common sandpipers, and two migrant black-bellied plovers near the waterline.  The most impressive species, however, were the half dozen or so sacred ibises.  A Saharan species, the sacred ibis was introduced to Taiwan, and there are now an estimated 300 ibises throughout the country.

Sacred Ibis (Threskiornis aethiopicus aethiopicus).  Although an introduced species to Taiwan, it is nonetheless an incredibly impressive bird.

Picking through the masses of mynas on the lawn, I was able to locate three crested mynas hiding in a large tree.  Black-collared starlings called from the trees and tall electrical towers nearby.  Every step along the bicycle path flushed countless Eurasian tree sparrows, and one flock contained a few Indian silverbills.  These small finches are common cage birds, and resemble tiny sparrows with large bills capable of cracking seeds.

Indian Silverbill (Eudice malabarica)

Crested Myna (Acridotheres cristatellus formosanus).  Lacking its crest, the long bill and reddish eye differentiate this bird from the similar Javan myna.

Black-collared Starling (Gracupica nigricollis)

A juvenile Red Collared-dove (Streptopelia tranquebarica humilis) foraging with the common mynas.

A juvenile Spotted Dove (Streptopelia chinensis formosana)

For such a small park, Hua Jiang Wild Duck Nature Park packs the proverbial punch when it comes to delivering on a variety of bird species.  The sun was getting low in the sky, and my feet had decided that enough was enough.  Just before calling it quits, I spotted a yellowish heron flying low over the reeds.  I got the binoculars on it in time to ID the bird as a yellow bittern!  No sooner had it appeared than it dropped into the reeds and vanished.

 I returned to the entrance to Hua Jiang, satisfied at having bagged another eight lifers.  I wouldn’t get another chance to visit Hua Jiang before leaving Taiwan, but it had definitely been worth the trip out.  Our first full day in Taiwan came to a restful and relaxing close.
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Day List: 34
Lifers of the Day (8): Sacred Ibis, Indian Silverbill, Common Myna, Plain Prinia, Black-collared Starling, Spotted Dove, Crested Myna, Yellow Bittern
Taiwan List (to date): 34
Life List: 520

Jirisan National Park

Jirisan National Park (지리산국립공원) is South Korea’s first designated national park, established in 1967.  It is one of the largest national parks in South Korea, spanning across three provinces.  The site of ten Buddhist temples, it is also one of the largest tracks of virgin forest in the country, owing to the reverence of mountains in Buddhist culture.  As a result, Jirisan is home to many plant and animal species that are not found elsewhere in South Korea, including the rare Asiatic black bear, more commonly called the “moon bear.”

For a park this size, there are numerous entrances to choose from.  Melanie and I decided to take a bus to the city of Gurye (구례), where we would access Jirisan via the Hwaeomsa Temple (화엄사).  Hwaeomsa is one of the ten most famous Buddhist temples in South Korea, and is home to eight national treasures of Korea.  From Gwangju, take a bus from U+ Square Terminal to Gurye.  Buses leave about every thirty or forty minutes, and a one-way ticket will cost around 7,000 won.  The trip will take an hour and a half.  Once in Gurye, there is a shuttle that leaves for Hwaeomsa Temple every twenty minutes.  You can also get a taxi for about 9,000 won.

A map of Jirisan National Park near Gurye.  The locations of Hwaeomsa Temple and the Yeongiam Hermitage are shown.

A trail map of Jirisan National Park.  These were placed at the beginning of each trailhead, and provided quite a lot of information on what to expect on any given trail.

It was an overcast day, but there wouldn’t be any rain and temperatures would be a nice and cool 25°C (77°F).  We arrived at the Hwaeomsa Temple, and were literally blown away.  This was the first real Buddhist temple we had been to, with the exception of Haedong Yonggungsa in Busan (see that post here).  Immediately I was struck by how quiet and reverent the place was.  We had arrived at around 10:30am, but there were only a few dozen other people walking the grounds of the temple.  We’re both used to hiking trails, temples, and virtually any other attraction being swamped with people by 10am, so this was a very nice surprise.  The temple itself was built in 544 CE during the Shilla Dynasty, but was destroyed during the Seven Year War in the 1590s, and was rebuilt sometime thereafter.  As a North American, it still gets me to see buildings and structures that have stood in one form or another for centuries longer than my own country has even existed.

There is an active monastery at the site, and we saw many Buddhist monks and visitors on “temple stays” walking through the grounds in traditional Buddhist robes.  In two of the shrines, ceremonies were taking place and throughout the temple we could hear beautiful chanting.  It was very serene, for lack of a better description.  Since pictures are worth thousands of words, I’ll let them do the storytelling:

A signpost near the entrance the Hwaeomsa Temple.  The inscriptions contain Chinese and Korean characters.

A view of the main entrance of Hwaeomsa Temple, the Iljumun Gate, and the stone staircase leading to the beopdang, or lecture hall.

A view of the beopdang and the chonggak (bell tower) at Hwaeomsa.

Two imposing guardians inside the Geumgangmun Gate at Hwaeomsa Temple.

A view of the Gakhwangjeon Pavilion at Hwaeomsa Temple.

The chonggak, or bell tower, near the daeungjeon at Hwaeomsa Temple.

The Gakhwangjeon Pavilion.  Atop the staircase is the daeungjeon, which houses the Temple’s main Buddha images.

This five-storey pagoda, the Seo-ocheung Pagoda, is one of the National Treasures at the Hwaeomsa Temple.  At the top of the staircase is the largest stone lantern in Korea.

In addition to the chanting of Buddhist monks, I heard two Daurian redstarts calling out their territories on the grounds of the temple.  Near the Iljumun Gate entrance, there was also an Indian cuckoo calling repeatedly.  This would have been a lifer for Melanie had we been able to see it.  We spent nearly forty minutes touring the temple grounds, so we decided to grab a quick bite to eat before beginning our hike up Mt. Jirisan.  There is a small gift shop near the Hwaeomsa Temple entrance, where we bought some Ramen noodles.  They also served a variety of coffees, but the last thing we needed before hiking a mountain was a hot drink.  It was at this gift shop that I found a dead mukade, or Japanese giant centipede (Scolopendra subspinipes japonica).  These enormous centipedes are not lethal, but can cause extremely painful stings requiring medical attention.  Fortunately they are not very common in the cities of Korea, but can be found out in the countryside, especially during the rainy season.  The dead mukade was not particularly large by mukade standards, only a few centimeters; I hope I never run into a full-grown mukade.

Our stomachs full, we began our ascent of Jirisan.  We came across several singing eastern crowned leaf-warblers, and managed to pick a few out among the branches.  These small birds were lifers for Melanie.  Our trail followed a large stream coming down from the peaks, which was one of the reasons I had chosen to come to this particular part of Jirisan.  It wasn’t long before we found what we had come all this way for.  An opening in the trail revealed a tranquil view of the river, and hopping from rock to rock near the water was a brown dipper!

The mountain stream running along our trail, the Hwaeomsa Course.  Prime habitat for brown dippers…

Brown dippers are unusual birds, and I had planned this trip to Jirisan for the sole purpose of finding one.  They live and breed along rocky rivers and streams, especially in the mountains.  They are also one of the few passerines capable of swimming.  They appear to be about robin-sized, but with a short, stocky appearance.  Occasionally they will cock their tails, giving them a wren-like silhouette.  Our view was short, as the dipper flew further upstream once it realized we had spotted it, but there was no mistaking this bird.

As John “Hannibal” Smith from The A-Team would have said, “I love it when a plan comes together.”

Our prize bird found, we continued up the mountain.  The dipper wouldn’t be the only lifer for the day, however, and shortly after finding the dipper we heard the distinct call of a lesser cuckoo somewhere in the forest.  The bird was flying high over the canopy, calling out a large territory, and through the branches I managed to get the briefest of looks.  Unfortunately Melanie was not so lucky, so she won’t be able to count this one.  Along this same trail we also found a few more Daurian redstarts, a Japanese bush-warbler, two grey wagtails, a large-billed crow, and a plethora of chickadees, including coal tits, Japanese tits, and varied tits.  After about an hour’s hike, with several breaks by the stream, we came to a fork in the trail, and one of the strangest sign posts I’ve yet to find in South Korea.

A fork in the road.  Left to the Yeongiam Hermitage and…

… a cafe?  In the middle of the woods?

Well, if you’ve walked all this way and see a sign for a cafe, it would just be rude not to check it out.  The cafe was surprisingly swanky for being located near a Buddhist hermitage.  The menu was tailored towards beverages, with a selection of coffees and teas, both hot and cold.  We opted for two sandwiches, which really hit the spot.  Prices were a tad on the expensive side, with the average being 4,500 to 6,000 won for an item.  Still, I’ve hiked a lot of trails and mountains, and it is a rare thing to find a full-service restaurant on the middle of a trail.

A small cafe near the Yeongiam Hermitage.  By far this is the most random location for a cafe I have ever found.

Further up the road from the cafe was the Yeongiam Hermitage (연기암).  The Hermitage is home to the Manjusri, a 13m high statue commission by the Buddhist monk Manhae in 2008.  The Manjusri is the chief Bodhisattva, and is one of the most worshipped Bodhisattva in Korea since the Three Kingdoms Period.  The Hermitage rests in an opening in the forest, providing a beautiful view of the Hwaeomsa Valley and the surrounding mountains.

A shrine at the Yeongiam Hermitage.  The living quarters and the Manjusri were located nearby.

The Manjusri of Yeongiam Hermitage.  This large statue of the Bodhisattva of Great Wisdom measures 13m high.

The Hermitage seemed to be a meeting place for cuckoos as well: we heard the calls of common, Indian, and lesser cuckoos all around the area.  A pair of Japanese tits had put a nest under the awning of one of the buildings, and the chirps of small chicks could be heard whenever the adults arrived with freshly-caught insects.   Continuing up the mountain from Yeongiam, we found a male blue-and-white flycatcher and an Asian stubtail.  The stubtail is a member of the bush-warbler family Cettidae, and has a high pitched, insect-like call, that can easily be overlooked in the forest.  We discovered that Melanie can’t really hear the stubtail’s call; at least, it is not as obvious to her as it is to me, even when the bird is close by or in view.  I’ve heard of this before, where a bird’s call is simply out of the audible range of certain people.  This can happen with North American species like blackpoll warbler and grasshopper sparrow.

A male Blue-and-white Flycatcher (Cyanoptila cyanomelana).  Low light in the forest prevented me from getting a crisp image of this bird.

We stopped one last time by the stream, while we debated the pros and cons of continuing up the mountain.  It was a serendipitous rest stop, for we found a pair of brown dippers and a female grey wagtail nearby.  Judging by their behavior, I imagine the dippers have a nest nearby, or may be building one.  Certainly the site is perfect for them.

Near this waterfall was where we found a pair of Brown Dippers…perfect habitat for this species.

A male Brown Dipper (Cinclus pallasii) foraging near the edge of a mountain stream at Jirisan National Park.

After enjoying watching the dippers, we decided to turn back and return to the Hwaeomsa Temple.  The hike back down the mountain was uneventful, with no new species found along the way.  All told we spent nearly eight hours hiking, and barely scratched the surface of Jirisan National Park.  I was really impressed with the park, both for the beautiful temples and landscape, as well as the great hiking trails and small crowd sizes.  If you can only make it to one national park in South Korea, make it Jirisan.

Straight to the Top

“Eleven companions set out on a quest to the summit of Mt. Mudeung, where they would cast the One Ring into the fire from whence it came…”

That is how our Saturday began…everything except that bit about the One Ring and volcanic fire.  Melanie and I joined up with a group of English teachers from Gwangju, many of the same people we went hiking with at Geumseongsanseong back in March.  Today’s hike was to the summit of Cheonwangbong, the highest peak of Mt. Mudeung in Mudeungsan National Park.  Cheonwangbong boasts a height of 1,187 meters (3,894 feet), and offers an amazing view of Gwangju nestled below.  We accessed the mountain via the Wonhyosa Temple parking lot, which can be reached by hopping on the aptly named #1187 bus.  This is the only bus that goes to the Wonhyosa Temple, so expect it to be crowded on weekends.  The other option is to take a taxi; be forewarned that the fare will be significantly higher for the distance traveled because Wonhyosa Temple is well outside the city limits and cabbies are hesitant to take you where they may not be able to find another fare.  If you can, get the fare amount up front before accepting the taxi.

Chris, our group leader, took us along a relatively easy trail around the backside of Mt. Mudeung, following a gradual ascent to the top.  This trail was not particularly busy compared to other trails in Mudeungsan National Park, so I would highly recommend it if you’re like me and prefer the solitude of Nature over busy trails and loud hikers.  We planned to hike to the Gyubongam Temple, a small forgotten Buddhist shrine nestled in the cliffs of Mt. Mudeung.  From there we would continue up the mountain to reach the summit of Cheonwangbong.

A map of Mudeungsan National Park, centered on Mt. Mudeung and Cheonwangbong Peak.  The dotted line represents our path around the mountain.

We met at the Wonhyosa Temple at around 10am.  The parking lot has a small convenience store where you can buy drinks, snacks, and a small assortment of hiking apparel, so Melanie and I grabbed some snacks while we waited for our group to arrive.  Spring is in full force now, and it was expected to be around 23°C (74°F) by midday, so we were dressed light for the occasion.  I was hoping for some spring migrants to add to my year list, and hopefully I’d be able to grab some photos as well.  I had just bought a new camera a few days earlier, and was anxious to test it out.  The new setup is a Canon 7D with a 100-400mm f5.6 lens – a pretty solid and popular setup for bird photographers.  I had been using my trusty Sony Alpha A100 with a 75-300mm f5.6 for over half a decade, so I was long overdue for an upgrade.  I’ll save you the suspense: the new camera performed flawlessly!

It started at the parking lot, where I found several azure-winged magpies flying around.  These birds are slightly smaller than the common Eurasian magpies that are regular fixtures everywhere in Gwangju, and I had yet to photograph one.  Alas, today proved to be like all the previous attempts, and I was unable to grab a shot of them.

Our group fully assembled, we headed off into the mountains, passing a small collection of houses and farms near the Wonhyosa Temple.  We did not tour the grounds of the Temple itself, as we were all anxious to get to the top of the mountain.  As we began our ascent, I quickly found my first lifer for the day: a singing oriental cuckoo near a fast-moving stream.  It was difficult to hear the bird at first, but once I picked up the sound it was impossible to ignore.  The bird was somewhere on the other side of the stream, and there was no way to get across from where we were, so unfortunately I wasn’t able to see this new bird.

The trail was steepest here, so we took plenty of breaks and enjoyed the fine weather.  Other than the usual mountain species like coal tit, great tit, and brown-eared bulbuls, I briefly heard the rattle-like call of a pygmy woodpecker, and heard two more oriental cuckoos.  Despite several attempts, I was unable to find the cuckoos.  I get the sense that this species may become a “nemesis bird” for me, even though I’m still counting it because of the positive ID on its call.

About an hour and a half into our hike, we arrived at the Gyubongam Temple.  The Temple itself seemed to just appear out of nowhere; it is astonishing how well-designed and constructed these temples are, and how non-invasive their construction is.  The temple looks like it was always there, just growing out from the cliff walls around it.

The gateway into the Gyubongam Temple.  An ancient bronze bell rests at the middle of the structure.

The sanctuary at Gyubongam Temple.  Colorful lanterns hung all around the temple.  I would love to see this place lit up on a clear night.

Inside the sanctuary at Gyubongam Temple.  This is an active temple, so shoes must be removed before entering here.

The temple was an excellent spot for a break.  We had our lunch here, where we were able to explore the different buildings and marvel at the view from the temple walls.  There is a small spring at the back of the temple, where you can refill your canteen before setting off again, and washroom facilities are on-site as well.  It was very subtle, but all around the temple, on the bare stone of the cliffs, were carved Japanese characters.  Some of these carvings scaled large monoliths of rock; it is a wonder how the carvers of these symbols managed to get up so high.

Most of the bird life around the temple consisted of coal tits and a single Eurasian jay, but as we were getting ready to continue our climb to the top, I heard the long complex sound of a Eurasian wren.  Last year the winter wren was split into three species: the winter wren (Troglodytes hiemalis), the Pacific wren (T. pacificus), and the Eurasian wren (T. troglodytes).  Both the winter and Pacific wrens reside in North America; the Eurasian wren can be found throughout Europe and Asia, and is comprised of several subspecies.

A “Korean” Eurasian Wren (Troglodytes troglodytes dauricus) near the Gyubongam Temple at Mudeungsan National Park.

 For such a tiny bird, it has an amazingly complex song, consisting of multiple changes in pitch and style.  Watching it sing, it’s hard to believe such a song is coming from this small brown bird.

Following the trail around the mountain, we passed several gaps in the trees, where we could see the surrounding mountains and valleys.  The forest took on a new personality as we gained altitude: the leaves became stunted or had barely emerged, and many of the trees were smaller and shorter.  As we neared the top of a ridge between two of the peaks of Mt. Mudeung, the environment changed from forest to scrub land, with scraggly bushes and thorns spreading out in all directions.  The trail took us directly to the ridge, where we could see Cheonwangbong Peak and nearby Jiwangbong Peak.  We were serenaded by a male yellow-throated bunting, who was singing from an open perch close to the trail.  Further out in the scrubland, multiple Japanese bush-warblers could be heard singing from small patches of reed-like vegetation interspersed with the scrub.

One of the many rock columns that break out into the habitat on the sides of Cheonwangbong.  If you look carefully you can see hikers all around the columns.

With so many tough, thorny bushes, I knew there had to be some shrikes around, and sure enough, right before we stopped to take a break at the top of the ridge, I found two bull-headed shrikes flying around the scrub.  This presented me with a perfect opportunity to test out the new camera equipment.  I have found shrikes to be notoriously hard to photograph, and thus a perfect test for my new lens.  It took some time getting into position in the thick scrub, but the scratches and scrapes were worth it.

A Bull-headed Shrike (Lanius bucephalus) near Cheonwangbong Peak at Mudeungsan National Park.

As I pushed through the scrub to catch up with my hiking party, I noticed a butterfly flitting about in the tall grasses nearby.  I managed to get a few photos of it; as best as I can tell this is a young scarce swallowtail, but I admit my insect identification skills are quite limited compared to my birding skills.

A Scarce Swallowtail (Iphiclides podalirius) at Mudeungsan National Park.

We had been hiking for nearly 6 hours at this point, and though we were so close, it was decided that Cheonwangbong would win this round.  We began the descent down Mt. Mudeung following a paved service road.  The going was much easier than our ascent, and the views equally impressive.  Along the way we passed several pale thrushes and another Japanese bush-warbler.  Near a small lookout about halfway down, overlooking a large portion of Gwangju below, I found three long-tailed tits.  Just beyond that, only about twenty minutes from the Wonhyosa Temple, I found my second lifer for the day: an Asian stubtail.  This small Old World warbler resembles most of the other Old World warblers, with drab greenish-brown plumage.  What sets the stubtail apart, as its name suggests, is the small stub of a tail, and the bird’s preference to skulking on the forest floor rather than in the branches.  That is how I found the stubtail – I heard some rustling in the fallen leaves, and expecting to find another pale thrush, I was delighted instead to see this small drab bird hopping around on pinkish legs.  Although the stubtail paused on a small rock for a few seconds to check me out, my inexperience with the new camera finally reared its ugly head, and I missed my chance to grab a photo of the bird.

Weary after six and a half hours of climbing the mountain, we all hopped onto the #1187 and headed into downtown Gwangju, beginning a new quest to find dinner worthy of such an adventure.