World on Fire
Travel Location: Alice-Springs,Australia
5-11-07 Red Center, Australia
Ah, the Outback mate. Red desert, red rocks, red roos, red (sunburned) locals, red everything. It’s the center of a naturally odd country and certainly doesn’t disappoint on the curious scale. I checked into an Alice Springs hostel on Monday night and had a tour booked an hour later. Turns out I was using the same company Sue and Scott used years before (I think they found them before they got too successful for their own good). It was fun but too hurried and more Aboriginal folklore thrown in then I’ll ever remember. First day, 6 hour bus trip, Uluru (Ayers Rock) from a distance, quick hick through the Olgas (Kata Tjuta) and an Uluru sunset with a beer.
I know what your thinking, what’s with the names. Well, in the 80’s the Aussie government gave the national park back to the Aborigines to manage because it was the ancestral homeland and religious site (with the condition that the Uluru climb remain open). So now instead of being called Ayers Rock and the Olgas, they now go by their aboriginal names. I call them whatever is quicker to say. So the Olgas, we were only allowed to hike a very small portion because it’s a religious site and it was overcast so that was not that thrilling. Sunset at Uluru, again overcast so no real color change on the rock at all. First day, okay but not exactly life changing. That night it was too overcast to use the swag, so I sleep in a tent. About 2am I get woken up by the side of my tent being pushed in. ‘Whoa!’ I yell. Nothing for thirty seconds, just very light steps outside. That’s what still bothers me, the delay. A sleepy and embarrassed misstep I figure and close my eyes again. Then something is on top of my tent. The roof pushes all the way down on me and I’m screaming, cursing and punching at the thing. I woke up half the camp I heard the next morning, but what did I hear then? Not a sound. No apologies, no growls, hisses, scratches, nothing. I’m freaked, and not about to go outside in my skivvies to see what it was. I peak out through the vents but see only the blackness. After a while of calm my heart stops racing and I finally fall back to sleep. Next morn I ask the guide. ‘Dingo maybe, messing with me local, kangaroo, Blair Witch?’ He just shrugs his shoulders. Doesn’t care at all. The rest of the camp are quite concerned or think I’m hallucinating. I certainly wasn’t dreaming, that much I know. I felt weight when I backhand punched the thing. I’ll never know what it was but it does make a pretty good Outback story I guess.
Morning two, sunrise. (A little sidebar here. The first four mornings in a row I was up before dawn and witnessed the sunrise. I NEVER see a sunrise back home. If you count my first trip to Oz I’d say I’ve seen at least half of my total sunrises in Australia. Maybe it’s a Southern Hemisphere Down Under thing. Hmmm, I do tend to miss the sunsets here so draw your own conclusions.) Back to the itinerary. Sunrise at Uluru? Un-friggin-believable. Made the whole trip for me. You hear about the color change on the big rock (and it certainly is quite a big rock) but until you see it you don’t understand. The stone slowly built from a dark maroon to lighter reds and then just exploded in a fiery orange for about 30 seconds before quickly falling back to a dull maroon again because of the clouds. Insane experience. The color of the dawn sky behind us was almost as impressive. Something I’ll never forget, but unfortunately the one picture of me with the orange rock looks like I’m about sixty, with a hangover.
Late morning day two. No one on the bus wants to climb the rock. I ask everyone who speaks English and not a person is planning on climbing. They all say it’s too much work or too dangerous but I think they’re full of cripe. It’s a politically correct thing. The aborigines don’t want tourists climbing the rock anymore because they say only their elders are allowed since it’s a sacred rock. Fine, appreciate their opinion. But Ayers Rock is a natural wonder that was here millions of years before any human and tens of thousands of folk before me have climbed it, so being the insensitive and arrogant American lout that I seem to be in the eyes of the Euro tourists I want to climb the darn thing. I’ve been hearing about this amazing climbe all my life and it just seems wrong to skip it because the locals think it’s bad from all of a sudden.
I’m torn but finally decide to do it after this sweet Canadian teenie bopper tells me – “Ta hell with the locals man, climb it if you want that’s what your aboot. I’d like to see someone piss off the guide anyway, eh.” Saskatchewan wisdom, who knew. So I storm off to hike the behemoth and what appears before my wondering eyes? ‘Climb closed due to threat of rain.’ Yes, rain, in the Outback. Sure, it was cloudy and it did rain that night, for 15 seconds, but c’mon. We all know they close the thing every darn chance they get. I heard they close it if it gets too hot. Imagine that, it getting hot in the Outback. Well, it’s their land and they can do what they want I guess but I’m still a bit annoyed. I doubt I’d ever make the trip again because pretty soon you won’t even be able to take pictures of the Rock. I guess it’s a PC world and I’m not spinning along in the right direction.
Well, off to Day Three at Kings Canyon. Another pre-dawn 5:30am wake up. This one was a bit tough because I was up drinking beers with the group till midnight and then woke in the middle of the night to wonder at the stars. I slept in a swag (canvas bag with padding) under the night sky, no tent. I figure it best to see my attackers this time. Actually I was a little buzzed and having forgot all about the previous night’s drama I really wanted to sleep under the stars for the first time since I was a kid. Glad I did too. No drunken animal attacks, just looking up at the clearest night sky you can get, where constellations and galaxy clouds shine through the black. A half moon lit the camp like a street lamp too. A wonderful way to fall asleep.
So back to Day three. If you have ever been to the Parks of the Four Corners USA (Arizona, Utah, NM, Colorado) you know what Kings Canyon is like. Beautiful red sandstone mesas, beehive formations, sheer walls and other fun stuff like a oasis palm filled swimming hole. A very nice four hour hike. Then it’s the long ride back to Alice Springs. Alice is a very strange town. Wild drunken white locals roaming the streets cursing at people. Aboriginals popping their heads out from the tall grasses as you walk by and camping out all along the dry river bed. They say it’s dangerous and not to walk by yourself at night. Once again, over reaction by skittish travel writers. I strolled home from the bar no problems. Still, it’s a bit of a wild west town for sure. So the tour was good but I think the best part (other than a glowing Uluru) was traveling with a bunch of fun like-minded travelers. Granted, the median age was 22 and I was the second oldest person there but that’s the standard whenever you do the backpacker thing. I knew that going in and always seem to have fun anyway. I’m usually the only American too so everyone is always asking me questions, like ‘Did America really murder every Native Indian?’ I told him to stop watching Kevin Costner / Michael Moore movies and go away. But seriously it was a definitely a fun group and made a mostly boring tour worthwhile.
Well, off to Sydney and distant family/friend reunion time.
Good on ya Mate – Bill
