I've often fantasized about retracing the steps of such naturalists as Charles Darwin, Alexander von Humboldt and William Bartram, who saw exotic places and recorded, in detail, the plants and animals they described so vividly on their expeditions.
But the armchair naturalist in me didn't want to work too hard or subject myself to the tribulations they suffered as they circumnavigated the globe, climbed the South American Andes or slogged through the swamps of the Southeastern United States, all places where one might encounter sharks, bugs, snakes, piranhas, jaguars and crocodiles. So, I kept deferring on the grounds of time, cost and discomfort.
My visit to Mindo, in a cloud-forested valley of the same name, helped me realize that I didn't have to set sail or strap on the crampons to see spectacular and exotic life forms. Mindo is an easy-access epicenter of biodiversity in northwestern Ecuador teeming with hundreds of orchid and bird species, all framed by spectacular Andean scenery in a cool, temperate climate.
During my two days traipsing around Mindo — a 90-minute-drive from Quito, the capital— I spied scores of plant and bird species that I thought I'd have to travel much farther to see. There were netherworldly orchids (about 4,000 species grow in Ecuador) and vibrantly colored bromeliads and dozens of rare birds, including toucans, cocks-of-the-rock, quetzals and swarms of hummingbirds and parrots.
Ecuador's biodiversity so engaged me that I thought of it as the ultimate persuasion for preservation, here and elsewhere. Bigger picture: Surely the ranks of protectors would swell, I reasoned, if they were to come away with the same understanding I did.
The smaller picture was just as satisfying. Although I'm no "orch-idiot," as the locals call rabid orchid fans willing to surmount any obstacle to catch a glimpse of one, I am fascinated by these plants, masterpieces of nature's handiwork. I saw scores of orchids along the several trails I hiked and in many of the 50 private reserves that locals have created to appeal to amateur, leisurely naturalists like me.
Ecuador's stable and temperate climate in the highlands makes it a veritable flora factory. With nearly $600 million in shipments, Ecuador is the second leading exporter of cut flowers (Colombia is first) to the U.S.
Orchids may be the showstoppers, but the supporting cast is just as impressive: I saw two-story-high tree ferns, ancient cedars, giant hibiscus and philodendrons with leaves as big as elephant ears. I was agog at the enormous shiny silver leaves of the umbrella-shaped cecropia trees that some experts say can grow as much as 6 feet a year.
For this, credit the surrounding cloud forest, a specific variety of tropical or subtropical ecosystem that occurs at just the right mix of altitude — Mindo's valley varies from 4,500 to 8,000 feet — cloud cover, sunlight, mild temperatures and moisture. Rainfall here averages 5 feet or more per year. The cloud forests often are in an altitude "band" between 3,000 and 6,000 feet and cover the many valleys that cut away from the altiplano where Quito (altitude: 9,400 feet) sits and open up to the Pacific Coast plain to the west below.
It rains almost every day, but much of Mindo's wetness comes from condensed moisture, or evapo-transpiration, from clouds that hover at canopy level, particularly after noon. Moss covers many of the trees. In this botanical caldron, orchids, bees, hummingbirds and the other pollinators they depend on thrive.
Mindo is well-known in birder circles, I'm told. The valley is a perennial high scorer in the Audubon Society's annual global bird count. Every December, localities around the world compete for the most bird species spotted, and Mindo, where as many as 400 have been counted some years, consistently places in the top 10.
