Australia day 12

8 July

Although we planned to leave Curtin Springs early enough to get to Uluru in time for the 10:00 AM interpretive walk, we fell steadily behind schedule and didn't leave until 9:30 AM for the hour's drive back to Uluru. I had the opportunity to chat with members of the staff and family at this working cattle station – tourist rest stop. They left some literature in our room about their history that, upon reading, made me respect them a great deal more than I had at first when I paid so much money for the room the day before. The room was small, but the effort they expended to make sure passersby had accommodations at all was great. The laws of supply and demand apply here as they do everywhere. They didn't have a lot to offer, but the demand for it was certainly high.

I chatted with four college-aged Australian women who were traveling together in a 4X4 vehicle they'd driven around the outback. The caked earth on its tires was the tell-tale color of the red centre tracks they'd driven. We talked about kangaroos. So far, tfu, tfu, we hadn't encountered any in the dark. They, stray cattle, emus and feral camels can kill you (and you them) if you collide with them. The women gave me a particular bit of advice I will keep in mind. Few cars are on the road at night. To increase your chances of avoiding being surprised by a kangaroo in the dark, they advised driving down the center of the road when no one is around.

This return trip to Uluru was over familiar ground, yet, at this time of day, the desert looked so much more vibrant. Perhaps it’s the difference in lighting; perhaps we are moved to see the details with a discerning eye and with greater reverence than we did the day before. This area was blessed last summer with rain that fell in good amounts at regular intervals with warm days between. The old rancher at Curtin Springs described it this way to me. Grasses cover the entire landscape. The red earth is not visible for all this lush growth. Rodents have proliferated, so the entire food chain is improved from the bottom up. But all that dried grass, lovely as it is, worries me as a potential wildfire hazard. That's how nature returns all this excess to equilibrium.

We breezed right into the park by showing our pre-paid ticket, while half a dozen recreation vehicles queued up in all their variety in the lane for first-time visitors. I'd hoped to see the demonstrations I'd missed yesterday, but yesterday was some special Indigenous occasion. They weren't here today. Oh well. I watched some wonderfully informative video presentations Razelle had seen the day before and Razelle spent quality time in the parts of the Cultural Centre that were important to her.

We then drove to the next part of the park to see the Olgas. These massive protuberances of rock poking out of the red-earth plains are altogether different from Uluru. I walked into their midst, leaving Razelle the keys and all the resources she needed at the caravan (we are starting to get this right, finally).

The Olgas are masses of conglomerate, tilted only slightly. They tower vertically overhead when you walk into the cleft between them, dwarfing the people ahead of you far up the trail.

I spent less time here than I had walking at Uluru. Enough was enough, only sooner. Time had come to leave the Red Centre of Australia and visit other parts of this country. Ah, but getting there will now take a lot of driving. But that was the plan.

We topped up the tank at the resort, headed back past Curtin Springs and onward toward Erldunda, all the while measuring our forward progress against the remaining hours of sunlight. At a small outpost and caravan park called Mt Ebenezer the sun touched down. It looked like the perfect little place to call it a day, but the caravan park was closed for Shabbat (our private interpretation, as sunset marked the beginning of Shabbat – our first one on this trip not spent with a Jewish community). Mt Ebenezer was closed because an elder had died and tomorrow there were to be ceremonies, so passersby were being turned away that night so family and friends could privately pay their last respects in their own traditional indigenous way.

It was dark and cold by the time we reached Erldunda. We tried out the strategy of taking an unpowered site. We had access to the toilets and laundry, but we had to use the car battery for electricity, which meant running the engine a couple of times when the interior lights faded out. Razelle did some laundry of the most important items and used their coin operated driers. I sat with her in the penetrating cold while she read a paperback novel and I composed another blog entry. We went to bed in a frigid caravan and huddled against the chill in our sleeping bags and extra clothing. I know it was below freezing during the night, but how far below I couldn’t say.