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Our final push for remaining endemics (we're down to six) took us up into the Blue Mountains (4000 feet) on a road that connects the northeast coast with Kingston in the south. The "major" road was one lane, full of switchbacks as it weaves through the mountainside. Raymond honks his horn before each turn; he's continually honking. We left Green Castle at 5 am to reach the possible spots for the Crested Quail-Dove. The 7-8 am traffic of motos, bikes, and cars loaded with people keeps us ever vigilant standing roadside.
Slowly we whittle away at our wish list: Blue Mountain Vireo, Jamaican Blackbird, Rufous-throated Solitaire, White-eyed Thrush, each getting increasingly harder to find. A picnic breakfast, a picnic lunch, views of Kingston from the leeward side of the mountains.
On our way back north we stop at a local coffee plantation owned by a family of British expats. 78 acres of coffee trees slope away from the tiny house, their operation includes picking through packaging. We sample, hear about the challenges of coffee growers: labor supply, rust disease spread since Hurricane Matthew five years ago. And still, no Quail-Dove.
Arriving at dusk back at Green Castle, a quick change and we're poolside with a final Jerk dinner amidst tiki torches: chicken, veggies, bammies, festival (sweet cheesy fried dough), rum punch. The quest for Quail-Dove will resume tomorrow morning.
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