The Rock

Oy. I spent about 6 hours today at the hospital trying to work out the logistics of getting my back X-rayed. The doctor I saw in Darwin had filled out a form requesting an X-ray of my neck when I had clearly specified that it was my back that was hurting. The doctors here in Alice Springs wouldn’t do the back X-ray without a written request from the original GP, so I spent a good part of my day sitting, waiting, and contemplating the even sadder state of the aboriginal population I witnessed shuffling barefoot though the hospital doors. At about 3pm I was finally taken in for my X-ray and was trying to remain optimistic despite the dull, but relentless ache in my spine. The radiologist came back in and informed me that I indeed had a compression fracture; but that it was a very minor one and that there was no apparent serious damage. I can’t tell you how relieved I was, especially when he told me he’d had two of those very same injuries (albeit much worse than mine) and that he recovered fully in about 10 weeks. The “recovered fully” was the part that lifted me out of my deepening gloom my condition was inducing. So there you have it. We’ll see how things go, but I can safely say there will be no extreme sports for me for the remainder of my trip (I got them out of the way already).

Never one for listening to sound advice, and despite the pain, I did end up going on my camping trip. Luckily the 4-hour walks we did during the days were somewhat mild compared to some of the more arduous hikes I’ve done on this trip, and the exercise felt great. The trip got off to a slow and disappointing start. I realized that the extra money I forked over for this particular tour meant that it catered to a more sophisticated clientele. And by sophisticated, I mean retired. So there was me, my friend Fracture, another 2 German girls my age, 4 old ladies, an old man who mumbled, and a middle-aged German couple. Later on in the day, we stopped at the airport to pick up 3 more passengers; two 20-something Swedish sisters and their mom. The mom and daughters trio made me miss my family so much and just added to my feeling of woe. As we drove the 5 hours it took to get to our first stop, Uluru (previously known as Ayer’s rock), the clouds began to roll in. This was a dense, grey, and none-too appealing development. We got to the rock and although it was pretty spectacular, I was getting anxious about the cloud situation. Was there to be no sunset? No glowing red rock? We did a walk around the rock and I do have to say that despite the weather, it was impressive in a way I hadn’t anticipated. People have told me it’s just a big rock. But my God, is it big. And it stands utterly alone in a flat, orange landscape. No one had to tell me it was considered a sacred place…I felt it as soon as I saw it. It absolutely exuded something mystical, and you’d have to be a pretty harsh cynic to deny it.

Anyway, we did the walk and I was encouraged by a distant crack of light on the horizon where I knew the sun would be setting. As the winds picked up, the clearing grew until I was pretty sure that be would indeed have a colorful sunset. This bolstered my spirits, and having gotten to talking with the Swedes, I was happy to discover they were pretty cool chicks (I found out subsequently that one of them had sustained a nasty back injury after falling off a horse when she was younger, and that after 8 years of agonizing pain, she had to get surgery. That sure brightened my mood!). After the walk, we made our way to the sunset spot and I started getting excited. Things were looking promising.



Steve, our guide, instructed us to make sure not to miss the 30 seconds right before the sun sets, as that’s the magic hour. We were not disappointed. As the sun inched towards the horizon, the rock began to glow red, and the full moon glowed even whiter against a peach and grey sky. I practically creamed my pants (sorry, but only a crude expression will do in this case).


I didn’t even know which way to look… I mean there was the rock lit up by the sun, but there was also the sunset behind that to take into account. I probably made my back that much worse in my frenzy to whip around and capture everything, but I didn’t care. It was the kind of beauty that just hurts. So that was the rock. So much more than I thought it would be. I’d have been happy it the trip ended there, but alas, we had two more days of beautiful things to see. Sigh. That night, we ate a delicious meal and slept in swags under the stars. I slept like a baby wrapped up in 3 blankets against the cold and clean desert air. The next morning, at 4 am, after a leisurely breakfast we made our way to the Olgas. The Olgas are even more impressive in size and scope than Uluru, but much less advertised. The aboriginals consider this formation to be vastly more sacred than Uluru and they don’t share any of their folklore regarding its significance. Most tour groups do sunset and sunrise at the rock, but Steve took us to watch an incredible sunrise over the Olgas instead. From that vantage point, you can watch the sun rise over Uluru while also taking in the first hits of rosy light on the slopes of the Olgas. Once again, I was torn between the two sights, and to make matters more complicated, my fellow campers had the most beautiful expressions on their faces as the sun rose so I tried to capture some of those as well.


After the sun rose, we headed into the Olgas to do a 4 hour walk. They were beautiful and the walk though was pleasant… and very hot. After the Olgas, we were all totally exhausted as we made our way to the campsite for the night (which was guarded by a camel skull on a stick). We arrived at a totally secluded, serene spot where we were free to watch the sunset over the red canyon walls. I was awestruck at the desert sunset…there’s nothing quite like it. The colors are so vibrant and pure and they work together in a way that seems almost purposeful.






So we ate dinner that night, and dinner included kangaroo tail. We literally put the tails of kangaroos, compete with skin and FUR, into the fire, and then when they were done, we broke them into pieces and ate. Primal, yes. Messy, you bet'cha. Tasty, indeed. Well, now I can say I tried roo tail…add that to my resume. I retired extremely early that night (about 8:30pm). Thank the neurofen with codine for that one! Once again, we awoke bright and early so we could complete our hike though Kings Canyon before it got too hot. Kings Canyon is a truly special place…it’s a desert oasis with lots of micro climates and it resembles a mini grand canyon. From the colors of the rock to the abundant plant and animal life, this place took my breath away. The rock formations are wild, and with the finely textured rock giving way to huge dome-like structures, you can literally see how everything was formed. I got a bit carried away taking pictures of my traveling companions, but I was getting bored taking pictures of red rock/blue sky after a while, and other things were more interesting to me (like hands, legs, a mop of dreads, and a beautiful little girl as into photography as I am).








After Kings Canyon, we spent an hour off-roading along a short cut back to Alice Springs. OUCH. I spent the whole ride clutching my seat and praying… that was the only time I was truly scared about my back and I had no control over the bumps and jolts of the truck. It would have been fun had I not had a broken back, but I think I eroded the top layer of my tooth enamel grinding my teeth so hard. This was the road:


Thankfully the ride ended after an hour and though I was definitely hurting, I didn’t think any more damage. After the ride from hell, we stopped at a station where a man named Jim will sometimes bring out his singing Dingo, Dinky. If you’ve never seen a singing Dingo, you haven’t really lived. This dog, upon hearing a piano play, begins to howl. Not only does he howl, but he likes to join in playing the piano as well. It was absolutely hilarious. As this dingo has achieved legendary status in Australia and doesn’t always perform, I’d say we were pretty lucky to witness the spectacle.

This is hilarious and definitely worth a listen (if you can hear the dog howling over my laughter).



After that, we pulled over to go on a witchety grub hunt. Basically, you dig up the roots of the Acacia tree and look for tubers where the fat, white worms are nesting. Then you crack open the root, pull out the protien-packed worm, and eat it. Apparently they taste like a mixture of eggs and almonds. I must confess, I was relieved that there were no witchety grubs to be found that day because I would have had to try one (and I wasn't too keen on it).

That night, a bunch of us were supposed to meet up for dinner, but I was so beat that I couldn’t physically do it. I really wanted to, but the fatigue of my body was too overwhelming and I feared I wouldn’t even be able to hold up a conversation (plus my mouth was still all cut up on the inside so eating has not been a joy). So I missed my final farewells, but all in all it was a fabulous trip and I’m SO glad I did it. I wouldn’t have known it, but had I missed Uluru, I’d have missed out on a lot.

So what’s next? I scored a ride to Adelaide and I have no idea what’s in Adelaide or what I will do when I get there. Par for the course at this point. All I know is that it’s gonna be coooold there. After 8 months of summer, I may just have to go into hibernation...much like the witchety grub.