Mud club

 

If NASA want to find water on a planet, forget sending a rover, send a retriever. I don't know how the bugger does it, no matter how arid, Geoff will find water. That said, water's not really a problem, mud on the other hand requires my participation in it's removal; and so a short distance on we reached Red Rise Brook where we undertook the ritual struggle which is cleaning Geoff's face.

Murd

Geoff's indignant expression may be on account of me having just called him a wanker.....jokingly! And he is. I don't think he could've found a muddier puddle, nor one whose mud was of such a black silty consistency, perfect for infiltrating a retriever's hairy coat. Of course, he was happy as Larry; not so much though when we reached Dockens Water and we had to go through the dance of washing the mud of his face...he's not a fan, nor I, we both always end up wet.  

Retreiver

 Geoff! Such a retriever move, man. 

End of the road

Ah, a common feature of the wet season forest is the bridge or raised track which ends in an expanse of impassable mud. Today it's the bridge over Red Rise Brook. Honestly, it's such a frequent occurrence that you'd think it was intentional; extend it a few meters more and it would have reached the higher firmer ground. Still, it makes for hilarity as you try reach dry ground via a network of semi submerged sticks and branches.