I remember each time I've ever seen a coati - or coatimundi - in the wild. For close to thirty years it's been an easy number to recollect: one. At least that's where the count languished until this past weekend, when my lifetime sightings dramatically increased to three!
This relative of the raccoon is not nearly as common as that masked cousin which ranges over most of North America. The coati is far-ranging himself, but throughout Latin America; the only areas in the United States where he resides are in Arizona and New Mexico. He has been spotted as far north as Spur Cross Ranch, north of Phoenix, but the species is more often seen in the southern Arizona sky islands, where Sierra Madre habitat thrives high above surrounding desert environments.
My long-ago first sighting was in Chiricahua National Monument in the far southeastern corner of the Grand Canyon State. I was camping in the park and was on a shuttle bus that took hikers one way up the mountain road. Before reaching the trailheads that lead to paths that meander through the park's famous hoodoos, the bus slowed down so that passengers could gawk at the monkey-like creature following the same road.
The coati looks simian because of a long, ringed tail that stretches the length of its whole body and because of its relatively long limbs. It's about the size of a very large house cat, and its pale brown coat sometimes look reddish in bright light. The species in Arizona is the white-nosed coati which also has white rings around its eyes, making it look a tiny bit raccoon-like.
So where was my second coati sighting? The same place as my first sighting: Chiricahua National Monument. On my first trip back there in almost three decades, after a picnic at Massai Point, I saw one just above the Grotto on Echo Canyon Trail last week. The park was quite empty of humans as most facilities like the visitor center and the campground are still closed due to the COVID-19 pandemic.
Temperatures were above 90, so I was quite surprised to see what I thought was a nocturnal animal scouting about in the midday heat. It turns out that the coati is diurnal, active during the day versus night. As a result I now have yet another reason to associate the species with monkeys rather than raccoons.
My trip to that part of Arizona brought me closer to the Mexican border, further south in the Chiricahua Mountains, to Cave Creek Canyon near the community of Portal. It's a pristine environment with rugged peaks towering over both seasonal and perennial streams and with dense forests that include sycamore trees. Ideal breeding habitat attracts elegant trogons and blue-throated mountain-gems in the late spring.
Just before the Coronado National Forest boundary, where the Canyon is situated, sits Cave Creek Ranch. Its seven creekside acres of both woods and grassy fields host not only cabins for human visitors but an array of feeders to attract wildlife. The pastoral grounds are a kind of animal sanctuary where birders and nature lovers can observe their favorite subjects up close.
Besides hummingbirds, grosbeaks, orioles and tanagers, to name just a few of the many kinds of birds I saw on the Ranch, herds of mule deer, a multitude of rabbits, and even a curious skunk all seemed to be right at home. A strict "No Dogs" policy certainly helps guarantee this comort.
And there's one resident coati on the grounds, making frequent visits to the bird feeding area. Nectar bottles, jelly jars, suet baskets, and orange slices, all hang from the branches of a large juniper tree near the office cabin: there was a favorite dish for every kind of bird. A scrappy, one-eyed black cat, either adopted by the host or having adopted the host itself, didn't seem to be interested in the finches or cardinals flitting about. "He's a mouser, not a birder," the lodge's owner told me.
However Pirate, as I called the cat - his real name was Black Beauty, which was just as fitting - seemed to make wide berth for a slightly larger animal that suddenly sauntered up to the feeding grounds. The third time I've ever seen the animal in the wild, it was a coati! It seemed to know exactly where it was going and climbed up a small fence into the juniper tree, stopping on a wide trunk not too far above the ground. Peanut butter had just been slathered there by the owner of the Ranch, providing a late afternoon snack for the coati.
After almost thirty years, earlier that afternoon, I had just seen that other coati, my second, in the National Monument less than twenty miles away as the crow flies. In the shadow of the Chiricahua Mountains at Cave Creek Ranch, on the edge of an idyllic Madrean sky island habitat, I was quickly discovering that all the other exotic residents and visitors to the area would be just as easy to find.
This relative of the raccoon is not nearly as common as that masked cousin which ranges over most of North America. The coati is far-ranging himself, but throughout Latin America; the only areas in the United States where he resides are in Arizona and New Mexico. He has been spotted as far north as Spur Cross Ranch, north of Phoenix, but the species is more often seen in the southern Arizona sky islands, where Sierra Madre habitat thrives high above surrounding desert environments.
My long-ago first sighting was in Chiricahua National Monument in the far southeastern corner of the Grand Canyon State. I was camping in the park and was on a shuttle bus that took hikers one way up the mountain road. Before reaching the trailheads that lead to paths that meander through the park's famous hoodoos, the bus slowed down so that passengers could gawk at the monkey-like creature following the same road.
The coati looks simian because of a long, ringed tail that stretches the length of its whole body and because of its relatively long limbs. It's about the size of a very large house cat, and its pale brown coat sometimes look reddish in bright light. The species in Arizona is the white-nosed coati which also has white rings around its eyes, making it look a tiny bit raccoon-like.
So where was my second coati sighting? The same place as my first sighting: Chiricahua National Monument. On my first trip back there in almost three decades, after a picnic at Massai Point, I saw one just above the Grotto on Echo Canyon Trail last week. The park was quite empty of humans as most facilities like the visitor center and the campground are still closed due to the COVID-19 pandemic.
Temperatures were above 90, so I was quite surprised to see what I thought was a nocturnal animal scouting about in the midday heat. It turns out that the coati is diurnal, active during the day versus night. As a result I now have yet another reason to associate the species with monkeys rather than raccoons.
My trip to that part of Arizona brought me closer to the Mexican border, further south in the Chiricahua Mountains, to Cave Creek Canyon near the community of Portal. It's a pristine environment with rugged peaks towering over both seasonal and perennial streams and with dense forests that include sycamore trees. Ideal breeding habitat attracts elegant trogons and blue-throated mountain-gems in the late spring.
Just before the Coronado National Forest boundary, where the Canyon is situated, sits Cave Creek Ranch. Its seven creekside acres of both woods and grassy fields host not only cabins for human visitors but an array of feeders to attract wildlife. The pastoral grounds are a kind of animal sanctuary where birders and nature lovers can observe their favorite subjects up close.
Besides hummingbirds, grosbeaks, orioles and tanagers, to name just a few of the many kinds of birds I saw on the Ranch, herds of mule deer, a multitude of rabbits, and even a curious skunk all seemed to be right at home. A strict "No Dogs" policy certainly helps guarantee this comort.
And there's one resident coati on the grounds, making frequent visits to the bird feeding area. Nectar bottles, jelly jars, suet baskets, and orange slices, all hang from the branches of a large juniper tree near the office cabin: there was a favorite dish for every kind of bird. A scrappy, one-eyed black cat, either adopted by the host or having adopted the host itself, didn't seem to be interested in the finches or cardinals flitting about. "He's a mouser, not a birder," the lodge's owner told me.
However Pirate, as I called the cat - his real name was Black Beauty, which was just as fitting - seemed to make wide berth for a slightly larger animal that suddenly sauntered up to the feeding grounds. The third time I've ever seen the animal in the wild, it was a coati! It seemed to know exactly where it was going and climbed up a small fence into the juniper tree, stopping on a wide trunk not too far above the ground. Peanut butter had just been slathered there by the owner of the Ranch, providing a late afternoon snack for the coati.
After almost thirty years, earlier that afternoon, I had just seen that other coati, my second, in the National Monument less than twenty miles away as the crow flies. In the shadow of the Chiricahua Mountains at Cave Creek Ranch, on the edge of an idyllic Madrean sky island habitat, I was quickly discovering that all the other exotic residents and visitors to the area would be just as easy to find.
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| Coati at Cave Creek Ranch near Portal. |
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| Coati at Cave Creek Ranch near Portal. |
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| Coati at Cave Creek Ranch near Portal. |
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| Coati imbibing in some of Cave Creek Ranch's peanut butter. |
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| Coati in Chiricahua National Monument. |
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