This time we crossed the ford (the one that was flooded). My dad ended up with wet feet, while my gumboots kept me dry. Then we went on this hard track with a killer-sized hill, lots of weeds and spiny plants surrounding us and a run-down, beaten, hardly-marked path. I managed to spot a brown thornbill in a tree and a few grey fantails, but that was pretty much it. Around the river we saw a few Pacific black ducks and one dusky moorhen. Then we had to turn back because my dad was starting to get cold feet.
This was not a very successful birding trip.
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