In Ecuador, the main areas of colonization were a north-south corridor along the base of the Andes and the Sucumbíos-Orellana quadrant, the country’s major oil-producing region.
Since the 1970s, populations in both areas have grown significantly. The Andean zone went from 160,000 inhabitants to more than 520,000 in 2017; in parallel, the population in the provinces of Sucumbíos and Orellana increased from less than 12,000 to more than 350,000.
Colonization also led to the invasion of lands of the indigenous Shuar, which prompted an unusual effort on their part to protect their territory. Today, the area specializes in cattle production and seeks to establish a niche market for high-quality beef for the domestic market.
Throughout most of the twentieth century, the Ecuadorian authorities pursued a geopolitical strategy that reflected a long-held conviction that they were cheated out of large territories in the Western Amazon. Most of their claims were adjudicated in favor of Peru and they were on the losing side of border disputes in 1860, 1903 and 1941. Consequently, successive governments were intent on not losing another square meter of what they fervently believed was their national territory, a policy that led to the construction of several highways and deliberate policies to foster migration into their lowland provinces.
Peru and Ecuador resolved their differences in 1998, after another border dispute, via an arbitration process coordinated by the governments of Brazil, Argentina, Chile and the United States. In the process, the countries established paired national parks on both sides of the border, and an ambitious IIRSA-sponsored initiative was launched to provide Ecuador with direct access to the Amazon waterway at Puerto Morona. The resolution of the border conflict and the much-improved transportation infrastructure opened up the Cordillera del Condor to large-scale mining operations operated by Canadian and Chinese corporations.
The road network in Amazonian Ecuador closely corresponds to the petroleum pipeline system, partly because the government promoted settlement along service roads during the 1970s. Data sources: GEM (2023) and RAISG (2022).
Migratory pathways
Migration into Amazonian Ecuador has occurred via four highway routes that connect urban centers in the Andes with a town or small city in the lowlands; from north to south, they include Quito to Nueva Loja (E10), Ambato to Puyo (E30), Cuenca to Macas (E40) and Loja to Zamora (E45). These roads channeled migrants into two major colonization landscapes: a north-south corridor along the base of the Andes, and the Sucumbíos-Orellana quadrant, which is also the country’s primary oil-producing region. The population along the piedmont grew from about 160,000 inhabitants in 1970 to more than 520,000 by 2017; simultaneously, the inhabitants of the Sucumbíos and Orellana provinces increased from fewer than 12,000 to more than 350,000.
Most communication was up and down mountain valleys between individual highland and lowland population centers, but eventually these communities were linked by a rudimentary north-south highway (Route 45). Multiple roads extended east into the Amazon lowlands, including one along the border to Tiwinza, a military post on the Santiago River, and an alternative route from the north to connect with Puerto Morona on the Morona River.
This latter route caused significant encroachment by Colonos on traditional lands of the Shuar Indigenous people in the 1970s and led to an unusual effort on their part to protect their land. This occurred two decades before Indigenous organizations launched their campaign to promote communal tenure regimes, and Shuar families had no option but to apply for legal title using the administrative procedures of the national colonization agency. This obligated them to deforest small plots within the larger landscapes of their traditional territories.
In 1997, the government allocated funds to improve infrastructure, with the modernization of Route 45, now known as the Troncal Amazónica. Settlement along the highway and into the Amazonian lowlands occurred mainly in the 1970s via development initiatives organized by a regional development entity (CREA) with financing from the IDB. The area now specializes in cattle production and seeks to establish a niche market for high-quality beef for the national market.
A researcher sets up a camera trap in Yasuní National Park in the Ecuadorian Amazon. Image by Jeremy Hance & Tiffany Roufs.
Migration into the southern sector was supported by a regional development organization, but most immigrants came on their own. They included Indigenous Quechua speakers, as well as Ecuadorians of mixed racial heritage, all of whom encroached upon the traditional lands of the Shuar. The super humid climate and rolling topography make intensive cultivation impossible, and the principal economic activity is raising beef and dairy cattle.
In contrast, colonization of the Sucumbíos-Orellano quadrant reflects a proactive settlement policy implemented by the central government after the completion of the highway between Quito and Lago Agrio in 1967. The military government declared Sucumbíos a ‘zone for migration and expansion’ in 1972 and sent teams of surveyors to lay out transects of fifty-hectare plots (250 meters by 2,000 meters) for distribution to new arrivals. The network of nearly identical landholdings was established along a rapidly expanding secondary road network, which was created to support the feeder pipelines that carry crude oil to pumping stations in Lago Agrio.
The soils in the quadrant are relatively fertile, which has allowed for the development of a diverse assemblage of productive systems, including food staples and cash crops such as coffee, cocoa and palm oil. Like other colonization schemes of the 1970s, poor infrastructure and inadequate public services led to widespread disenchantment, and many farmers abandoned their farms. Simultaneously, oil field workers filed claims to acquire plots or purchased abandoned farms from people seeking to leave the region. Many owners adopted a beef production strategy that allowed them to meet the legal requirements for a land claim, but which could be managed by an absentee owner. Consequently, the ethnic makeup of the quadrant is relatively diverse.
The government now seems dedicated to promoting the development of Amazonian Ecuador by embracing the intensification of agricultural production on previously deforested landscapes, while promoting a diversification of production strategies. The government continues to build new oil pipelines and access roads as it expands into new production fields in previously remote landscapes in and around Yasuní National Park. The government’s insistence on developing these assets is highly controversial and a source of conflict with Indigenous groups, particularly the Waorani, whose ancestral territory lies over Ecuador’s most valuable oil reserves.
“A Perfect Storm in the Amazon” is a book by Timothy Killeen and contains the author’s viewpoints and analysis. The second edition was published by The White Horse in 2021, under the terms of a Creative Commons license (CC BY 4.0).
To read earlier chapters of the book, find Chapter One here, Chapter Two here, Chapter Three here, Chapter Four here and Chapter Five here.
Chapter 6. Culture and demographic defines the present
Scientists captured the first-ever camera collar footage of wild Andean bears, revealing unprecedented behaviors, including canopy mating and cannibalism.
The research team, led by Indigenous researcher Ruthmery Pillco Huarcaya, successfully tracked a male bear for four months in Peru’s challenging cloud forest terrain.
The footage challenges previous assumptions about Andean bears being solitary vegetarians and shows them behaving more like other bear species.
While the bears face mounting threats from climate change and human conflict, researchers are combining scientific study with community education to protect them.
In the mountains of Peru, where ancient cloud forests meet the Amazon Rainforest, an Andean bear made scientific history. For four months, a camera collar captured the wild male’s daily life, revealing behaviors never before documented in the Southern Hemisphere’s only bear species, from treetop mating rituals to unexpected acts of cannibalism.
The study, published in Ecology and Evolution, provides a bear’s-eye view of life in one of South America’s steepest and wettest terrains and marks the first time this technology has been used on the species.
“For 15 years, I’ve been traveling up and down that valley and never seen a bear,” Andrew Whitworth, executive director of Osa Conservation and co-author of the study, told Mongabay. “So, the prospect of capturing a bear was quite insane. … These are just sheer walls of cloud forest.”
Ruthmery Pillco Huarcaya, a National Geographic Explorer and the study’s lead author, led the research team. She says her work to protect the Andean bears of Peru is inspired by the legends of her Indigenous Quechua heritage.
National Geographic Explorer, Ruthmery Pillco Huarcaya, attaches a trail camera to the branch of a tall tree in the buffer Zone of Manu National Park, Madre de Dios. Photo courtesy of Pablo Durana via National Geographic and Rolex Perpetual Planet Amazon Expedition.
Guardians of the Andes
Andean bears also hold profound cultural significance in Andean communities. “In Andean Quechua culture, Andean bears are known as Ukuku or Ukumary. The Ukukus are mythical beings, half-human and half-bear,” Pillco Huarcaya told Mongabay in a text message. “I wish people knew that Andean bears are the guardians of the mountains and vital ambassadors for the conservation of cloud forests, their primary habitat.”
To better understand these mountain guardians, in 2023, the team deployed camera collars on three wild Andean bears (Tremarctos ornatus) in Peru’s Kosñipata Valley. The first two collars were pilot studies that used National Geographic’s CritterCam. However, the study is based on just one longer-term collar worn by a male bear for four months, revealing many behaviors scientists have never seen before.
The footage challenged long-held assumptions about Andean bears being solitary vegetarians. Instead, it showed them as social creatures, having both peaceful and aggressive interactions with other bears.
Love in the Canopy
During his four months under observation, the male bear engaged in two remarkable courtship periods. The first, a weeklong encounter in December 2023, documented something never before seen: Andean bears mating in the tree canopy. The bears were filmed coupling high above the ground in at least eight video clips. A second female encountered the male in March, though no mating was recorded.
“There seems to be these sort of very intimate moments when he’s with a female and they’re hanging out in the same tree, just looking at one another,” Whitworth said. While Andean bears have long been considered solitary, the footage showed the pairs remaining together for days at a time and sleeping next to each other, suggesting their social lives may be more complex than previously understood.
The bear’s agility in the canopy wasn’t limited to mating. The bear was also filmed feeding 20-30 meters [65-98 feet] up into the top of a Cecropia tree. “I remember being really shocked when we saw this,” Whitworth said. “These are fast-growing, very spindly, hollow trees that snap really easily, and we see this bear 30 m up feeding on seeds. Holy smokes!”
Camera collar footage of the male Andean bear interacting with a female Andean bear. Credit: Ruthmery Pillco Huarcaya/National Geographic.
Bears will be bears
The footage also revealed that Andean bears are not purely vegetarians but have an omnivorous behavior typical of other bear species. Camera collars caught them eating insects and meat along with fruit, bromeliads and even stinging nettles.
In one surprising discovery, the collared bear was recorded feeding on the carcass of a woolly monkey (Lagothrix cana), the first documented case of an Andean bear consuming a primate. Nine video clips captured the sequence of events, showing the bear first with the monkey’s carcass on the ground before carrying it into the tree canopy, where the primate’s hand was clearly visible. The footage suggests the bear discovered the already-deceased monkey while foraging rather than hunting it.
Even more dramatic were two instances of cannibalism caught on camera. In mid-November 2023, just a month before his mating season, the bear was recorded feeding on a dead bear cub over three days, starting with the head and moving to the stomach.
In a second incident on New Year’s Day 2024, after a long journey crossing the Kosñipata Valley, the bear was filmed in the canopy consuming what appeared to be the partially eaten carcass of another small bear.
While cannibalism has been previously reported in Andean bears in Ecuador, this could be the first documented case of infanticide in Andean bears, a behavior known in other bear species. These videos suggest these bears may be more similar to their northern cousins than previously thought.
“When you look at everything that we’ve recorded,” Whitworth said, “you realize it’s just like any other bear.” This simple observation might be the study’s most profound finding, Whitworth said. Beneath the mystery and mythology, Andean bears are just bears being bears.
An Andean Bear (Tremarctos ornatus) in Parque Nacional del Rio Abiseo, Peru. The species is listed as Vulnerable to extinction in the IUCN Red List and is the only bear species in the Southern Hemisphere. Image by Pedro Peloso courtesy of National Geographic and Rolex Perpetual Planet Amazon Expedition.
How to catch a bear
Collaring an Andean bear in Peru’s steep cloud forests required ingenuity and patience. The team used an “Iznachi trap,” essentially a large box with a guillotine-style door that drops when a bear enters to take the bait. But first, they had to get the trap into position.
“We had to design it where it was in panels that could be put on your back, and you could hoist these big metal panels out through these mountains,” Whitworth said. “It was pretty dangerous.”
Working with a local mechanic, they created a portable version the team could carry in pieces and assemble on-site. Each trap was connected to a satellite transmitter that would immediately alert researchers via email when triggered.
The process of actually catching a bear required careful preparation. “You don’t arm the trap at first; you kind of want them to just get used to coming in for the bait,” Whitworth said.
Using camera traps, the team spent a year identifying where individual bears hung out before attempting any captures. This allowed them to target specific animals while avoiding females with cubs. The trap’s design ensured only bears could trigger it. “It’s so heavy that pulling the prongs from this big door is actually real hard for an animal to do,” Whitworth said. “If a fox comes, they’ll nibble on the meat, but they’re not strong enough to pull it and trigger the trap.”
Once a bear is caught, the teams head to the field to immobilize it using a precise combination of drugs. During the immobilization, veterinarians conducted health evaluations and fitted a collar with GPS tracking onto the bear.
National Geographic Explorer, Ruthmery Pillco Huarcaya, holds up footage of an Andean bear exploring the bear cage her team set up. Photo courtesy of Andy Whitworth/National Geographic.
Tracking technology
The collars are designed to be released remotely via satellite, typically after about three months. The researchers wait until the bear is in an area where they think they can retrieve the collar, then send a signal to fire a release mechanism. However, the process isn’t always straightforward.
“The problem is that collar has been on the bear for a few months, and a bunch of gunk can just sort of keep it closed,” Whitworth said. “So sometimes you don’t find the collar in the place where the release went. It can take two or three hours to wiggle off, and the animal could have moved kilometers.”
Even after successfully tracking a collar’s location, retrieving it from the precipitous terrain proved its own adventure. During one recovery attempt, a swollen river separated the team from their quarry. The solution emerged from the community itself.
“Ruth hired a bunch of the local people and we built a makeshift bridge to sort of scramble over this raging torrent,” Whitworth said, highlighting how local knowledge and collaboration often proved crucial to the project’s success.
After retrieving the collar, researchers anxiously waited to see if the data were successfully recorded. Despite these challenges, the team has had been largely successful in recovering their equipment. Across their broader mammal research program, they’ve retrieved 19 out of 20 collars deployed on various species.
This high recovery rate helps justify the steep cost of the technology, around $5,000 per camera collar. The study authors argue the investment is worthwhile when compared with the total cost of bear research.
The bigger challenge, Whitworth noted, is making this technology accessible to researchers in tropical regions where many poorly understood species live. He said that financial support from National Geographic and Rolex allowed the team to take risks on expensive technology, “but for a lot of researchers in the Global South, those risks are unattainable unless they can get access to the resources.”
Beyond the technical and financial challenges, the footage offered something unique: a glimpse into how an Andean bear experiences its world. Whitworth describes the wonder of seeing from a bear’s perspective, noting that the bear would sometimes stop at a vista and look out over the landscape, much like humans do on a hike.
“He’ll be walking and then all of a sudden, he’ll just stop in some beautiful part of the Andes and look out over the river and the valley,” Whitworth said. “He’s probably smelling and looking at his surroundings, but you get the idea that he’s seeing the land, in some respects, how we see it. It’s pretty incredible.”
Camera collar footage of the male Andean bear walking along a river. Credit: Ruthmery Pillco Huarcaya/National Geographic.
Seeds of survival
However, understanding Andean bear behavior isn’t just amusing. These large mammals play an important role in the ecosystem, eating seeds and then dispersing them over large distances. This service helps maintain the immense biodiversity of the cloud forest, an ecosystem critical to the water cycle of the entire Amazon Basin.
Yet the bears’ vital role in the ecosystem is at risk. Listed as threatened by the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) Red List, there are estimated to be fewer than 20,000 Andean bears left in the wild.
The species faces pressures from multiple directions. As the climate becomes hotter and drier, their habitat is pushed upward. At the same time, human activities like farming are moving in from above, leaving the bears less room to roam.
“Sadly, I don’t see things improving for Andean bears anytime soon,” Whitworth said. “There are some scary predictions about cloud forest loss under current climate warming scenarios.”
This squeeze on their habitat forces bears to adapt their movements and behavior. They rarely stay within a national park, instead passing through multiple protected areas and community lands—sometimes raiding crops or in very rare cases preying on livestock. This can lead to retaliatory killings by local people. Camera footage paired with GPS tracking can help researchers and communities understand why bears are going to community lands, what risks they take, and perhaps how to avoid conflicts.
Community conservation
In response to these challenges, Pillco Huarcaya’s team is also working to expand their community engagement efforts, transforming their field station into what Whitworth called a “community conservation campus.”
“My work with children has had a significant impact on how the community views Andean bears,” Pillco Huarcaya said. “Through our ‘Conservation Ambassadors’ program, children visit the Wayqecha Biological Station to learn about the bears and the cloud forest. Many of them didn’t know about Andean bears before, and now they see them as friends that need to be protected.”
Despite the challenges, Whitworth said he remains cautiously optimistic. The behaviors captured by the camera collars demonstrate the bears’ intelligence and adaptability. “If there is a species that can change fast and learn quickly,” he says, “it’s a bear.”
A male Andean bear, and his paw. Credit: Ruthmery Pillco Huarcaya/National Geographic.
Banner image of Andean Bear (Tremarctos ornatus) in Parque Nacional del Rio Abiseo, Peru. Image by Pedro Peloso courtesy of National Geographic and Rolex Perpetual Planet Amazon Expedition.
Liz Kimbrough is a staff writer for Mongabay and holds a Ph.D. in ecology and evolutionary biology from Tulane University, where she studied the microbiomes of trees. View more of her reporting here.
Pillco Huarcaya, R., Whitworth, A., Mamani, N., Thomas, M., Condori, E., (2024) Through the eyes of the Andean bear: Camera collar insights into the life of a threatened South American Ursid. Ecology and Evolution 14(12) doi: 10.1002/ece3.70304
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