Day 3 - Berri to Port Augusta
We hopped back in the cars and headed down to the large dune swale where Dan and I had turned around the previous night. We were short on time so marched off to the west. A call from the dune on the left stopped us in our tracks and Helga nailed it instantly – a Gilbert’s Whistler was up there! I got over there quick smart and soon the whole group was in a semi-circle staring expectantly into a shrub. The little bugger was skulking hard! I couldn’t believe how difficult it was to get onto. A few Southern WF distracted the crew after a few minutes and then some Banded Lapwings called from further down the swale. We kind of split up, each chasing their preferred targets. I stayed with Ros and we eventually had a semi-satisfying look at the Gilberts. Everyone else dipped. We headed back to the hotel to pick up Peter and do our final pack prior to the long drive over to Port Augusta. We said goodbye to Helga and headed off… I was two lifers up already today!
Heading out of Berri we had a short drive to Hogwash Conservation Park. We pulled up and spread out a bit to look for the Regent Parrots which had been checking the place out for nesting recently. Didn’t take long to find one! I called the crew over and ran to the car to get my scope. The big beast was sitting quietly up in a massive camaldulensis. He scarpered pretty quickly when a second individual called and we ended up wandering around the billabong like headless chooks trying to find them again. I saw some amazing trees in this spot, massive old gnarled monsters. It was kind of sad to see these relicts of the past landscape. How many people had camped there over the centuries? Peter called me out of my colonial gloom and we zoomed off to cross the mighty Murray on the good ship Coot 🙂
We stopped in a little spot called Morgan for lunch. I had a yummy hot chocolate and wandered across the road to the community shop, where I found some nice souvenirs for J. A salad sandwich went down the hatch like lightning and we were off again! Driving west we had some good chats as a bucolic agricultural landscape rolled by the windows. Our first Emu revealed themselves on a hilltop and we pulled into Burra for a wee soon after to celebrate. God damn it was cold, but the pet ducks in the park didn’t mind much. Back in the cars with the heaters cranked we rolled into Port Augusta just before twilight, passing by some massive wind turbines and the ghost of “the Banded Stilt pond” on the way. Dan and I split soon after, heading out to chase down some state ticks in the bitterly cold late afternoon. I had a good yarn to J – she was heading in to surgery in the morning but was feeling positive about everything and her pain was under control. We had an amazing Indian feast at the Stagecoach Inn and got into bed nice and early for once.
Day 4 - Port Augusta to Mt Ive Station
In the morning I got the intel that J’s surgery went well, which was a weight off my mind – I knew her mummy and daddy would look after her, and that mine would be caring for the hounds so I relaxed a bit. The group took our day 4 RAT and the masks were stowed, which was nice as my snout had been getting a bit itchy from time to time! A continental breakfast was slurped down and then we headed west into a decidedly gloomy weather situation after a flyby from PCLO. The rain was torrential at times, but thankfully was localised. By the time we got to our site at Wild Dog Hill it was a beautiful sunny moaning. Hopping out of the cars into the pearls I heard a Western Grasswren singing immediately. Shortly after I had a glimpse of the beast, and eventually had extremely satisfying views – including one hopping across my foot! Getting the group on to these birds was somewhat challenging though and after a while we decided to give them a little rest. We headed clockwise around the hill, admiring a nesting pair of Nankeen Kestrels. Dan found a small mixed thornbill flock including some Slender-bills. Again I had ok views down the bins but struggled to get good photos. BVD for the future… it would probably help to be solo for this bird.
Continuing around the hill we came across a family of WBBA, which was pleasant. Dan flipped some rocks and revealed a large (completely frozen) Ctenotus robustus. We caught up to the crew again and started looking for WEGR again. Eventually all involved came away with life-changing views and we celebrated with a cuppa and some bikkies. We had a quick stop in at the Whyalla Wetlands and trip ticks fell like autumn leaves… including a strange looking hybrid teal. We cruised out of town heading for the famous Mt Ive station. This was sheep country, and fairly barren looking really. A few lumps and bumps in the landscape supported some interesting looking caves but there was no time to waste… we stopped in the ghost town of Iron Knob and then continued deep into the Gawler Ranges.
Shortly after the turn off to the station Peter pulled over and pointed out of his window… holy shit! A lifelong plant dream was crouched by the side of the road. STURT’S DESERT PEA. It turned out to be the only individual we got on the entire trip but one is all I needed. What a monster! Heading into the station big spini-covered hills loomed all around. The STGR were watching us… the station was a pretty nice setup. We stowed the bags and, as was becoming a regular occurrence, Dan and I headed out for some pre-dinner birding. We ended up surprising a big Southern Hairy-nosed Wombat which was pretty funny – he legged it (see below). A herd of Southern White-face was the only other item of interest. After a nice homely meal we did our homework and headed for bed. It was cold as a witches tit! I braved the showers and was lobstered by the donkey boiler. Felt pretty bloody good. Burrowed under all the blankets I could find in my thermals and hit the hay. A hard bird awaited in the moaning.
Day 5 - Mt Ive to Port Augusta
Holy shit it was pearly the next morning! We rolled out of the station in the soft glow of dawn and started cruising up Mt Ive in low range. At an obvious spot we stopped, hopped out and started slowly making our way upwards. Peter, Dan and I fanned out and moved slightly ahead of the crew, who stuck to the road. Arriving at the first Short-tailed Grasswren territory Peter knew we stopped and had a listen. Nothing. The valley below was filled with roiling fog, reminding me of The Clouds of Sils Maria – a fairly gloomy film I watched last year. The landscape was amazingly beautiful. We turned away from the orange glow and crept upwards, startling a big shaggy Euro as we went. By this stage Dan was on the eastern side of the ridge and Peter and I were on the western side, offset by about 60m or so. Peter paused and played the tape softly. Almost immediately I heard a response from our right. I whistled to Peter and he moved towards the bird, getting onto it pretty quick. I caught up and saw the beast too – now we had to get the crew onto the animal! Dan arrived soon after I called him on the radio, shepherding the others. We got everyone together and waited. I was about 10m away from the main group and the critter came out to have a look at me. I immediately crouched and everyone noticed. The bird moved to the left, and almost everyone saw it pretty much straight away. Wow! We were starting to work as a good team now and it was really cool to see the pax picking up on the subtle clues we were giving them without the need to talk.
We stayed with the bird for about five minutes, finding another in the process. In the end everyone had absolutely unbelievable views of the little monsters. Amazing! We made our way back down the hill in a warm lifer glow, running into a little mixed flock on the way. The smalls were attended by a Pallid Cuckoo with a strange bill mutation – his upper mandible was very thick, and hook shaped. Severus Snape? Once back at the station kitchen we nailed a cuppa and then headed out to bird the airstrip. It had warmed up nicely and stonking birds were all around us from the get-go. WWFW, SPFW, CRTB, SBTB (briefly), my second ever REDTs (monsters), RCRO, WFCH… etc etc. Fantastic birding and a very relaxed vibe. Getting the Short-tailed so quickly and easily had released the pressure valve and everyone was just pumped to be out there. We piled back into the vehicles eventually and cruised back to Pt Augusta. Along the way we stopped and nailed some Chirruping Wedgebill’s (first of the trip) and then spread out in a field near Iron Knob, getting a few punters their lifer LIBQ.
Back at the hotel – Dan and I did some washing then vegetated for a while before dinner. I had a nice chat to J on the phone. Her recovery was going well! I had a shave in Fred’s honour (it was his birthday) and we had a delicious dinner. Vegetarian Thali! Just amazing to get Indian of this quality here. I ate a big meal; from here on it would be fairly challenging to find haute cuisine as a vego. We sang Happy Birthday to Fred and gobbled some cake and then it was time for the famous blanket show. Thanks for reading! I’ll try and get the next post together a bit faster than a billion years!