Ross warned me. I knew what I was getting into. I agreed anyway. The Usambaras, the Ulugurus, the Udazangwas, and the Rubeos, collectively part of The Eastern Arc Mountains. We were going up some of Tanzania’s largest and most famous mountain ranges in search of birds during the rainiest month of the year.
The crescent-shaped Eastern Arc Mountains, mainly found in Tanzania but crossing over into Kenya, has a high level of endemism. The large mountains have isolated dozens of species and now they are only found on their respective mountains. We love endemics and so we were going to go up each mountain to find whatever birds call that mountain home.
First up, the Ulugurus. (I recently shared a post from last year when we accessed the Ulugurus from a different side for a different endemic. We literally were picking up right where we left off.)
It was better to just put one foot in front of the other than to look at the mountain and see the hill we were about to climb. It felt less overwhelming that way. The trail was steep; much steeper than either of us anticipated and in order to get to the forest we had to climb alongside tall grasses or adjacent to a farmer’s field of beans or other produce. The fact that someone climbs this much in elevation each day just to tend to their harvest is a testament to the fitness levels of the people who live here. Ross and I like to think we are fit people, but we both could barely keep up with James (pronounced James-ee) who must walk these steep slopes to get to and from his house each day.
I’m thankful for this steepness however because it is the only reason the forest still remains. If it were flat it would look like a field, long since cleared of it’s natural resources.
Although the hike was a challenge, I think it was the road in that gave us the most trouble. I’m not sure many vehicles, other than motorbikes, have made it to the small village this time of year. It was a challenge even for our Hilux, with a brief stint stuck in the mud while one back tire was mere inches from sliding off the steep slope. One close encounter was enough and at the next possible moment we parked our car. Thank goodness we did because I’m sure we wouldn’t have made it through the thick mud just beyond. It was simply too wet this time of year.
After the mud-filled road, long walk in, and steep climb, we did eventually make it into the forest, immediately surrounded by varying trees and shrubs and fungi and plants. Biodiversity disappears when the forest is chopped down; and let me tell you, that’s a scary thing.
Our main target of the morning was the Uluguru Mountain Greenbul. It actually didn’t take us long to connect with a single individual, but it wasn’t until we found a fruiting tree and a flock of other greenbuls that we had better looks at our target endemic. Jamesi didn’t know many of the birds, but he sure knew the two important ones, and after seeing Uluguru Mountain Greenbul, took us to a more open/scrubby spot for Mrs. Moreau’s Warbler, another endemic.
Ross and Jamesi 
Uluguru Mountain Greenbul 
Mrs Moreau’s Warbler
Our goal from here was to spend the morning birding, but this was cut short because it started to rain. Although we headed back towards the village, we did manage a few birds in between showers including Sharpe’s Akalat, Loveridge’s Sunbird, African Tailorbird, and Black-fronted Bushshrike. (Full eBird checklist here if you’re interested.)
I was concerned about getting stuck in the deep mud on the drive out, but with careful planning Ross navigated the muddiest sections like an expert African driver! Just like that we were on our way towards the next set of mountains, The Udazangwas!