Last night we fell asleep to the dullset sounds of the power station near the camp ground (be warned for anyone planning on staying here) and the chorus of snoring from the numerous campers that descended on the site.

It was an early morning start to join the procession of cars, busses and horse carts heading out to watch the sun rise over Uluru.  Passing the numerous signs with 'no stopping here', 'no camping', 'no photography' and 'no picking your nose' we were directed to the sunrise viewing car park. Despite the feeling of being in a controlled theme park this was all forgotten as the light show began.  While not as spectacular as the sunset it was still nice seeing the rock change through the shades of red.

 

As the masses departed like the end of a football match we followed the wave of vehicles to the base of Uluru for a walk.  

My decision weather to climb or not was made easy as it was closed due to the winds (which I admit were blowing and bitterly cold despite the sun). Before we came I was grappling with the decision weather to climb the rock or not.  Not having a strong belief at a spiritual level but a very strong appreciation and respect for the natural world I was driven by how to get the greatest appreciation for this amazing work of nature.  Hence even if the walk up the rock was open I would have elected to do the walk around the base.  Byte time we got back from the base walk it had opened however at 10 km it was needed to work of all those great camp oven meals.

As you pass around the base you get to experience conpleatly different views from the towering shear red rock face to the narrow eroded channels and rock pools.  The flaky rust iron red surface is broken by several honeycomb caves eroded over hundreds of thousands of years. Where ever you look you get a different perspective of the rock.  It is hard not putting the camera down to just experience it.

 I can only begin to imaging what it would look like with the rain plummeting down the cascades and grooves on to the earth below.  May be one day?

As a keen photographer I can appreciate why the traditional people chose certain sites as their ceremonial and sacred places.  These were the most special and appealing parts of the rock.  Unfortunately they were also the parts you were requested not to photograph.

I can also appreciate why we men still have an urge to return to our man caves having seen the many sacred men's caves on our walk. See Kathy it is not just me.

There were numerous traditional paintings and many dreamtime stories of how different parts of the rock were formed.  The story of Tjukuritja had a lesson that you need to honour you responsibilities and be prepared to be punished appropriately ( something the children need to learn) and that women should look after the men and serve their every need - ok I made the last bit up.

At the end of the walk the tour continued at a frantic pace as we did a quick stop at the cultural centre then on to Kata Tjuta (the Olgas) to do a short walk in to the Valley of the Winds (and yes it was windy in there).   Kata Tjuta is different to Uluru in that it is an composed of eroded rock turned solid by the weight of an ancient sea (Uluru being eroded sand). Over time the cracks have eroded forming numerous rounded domes.

The afternoon was spent watching the sun slowly sink behind the horizon with Kata Tjuta as its backdrop.  While we enjoyed it I am not so sure about a passing traveller who noted "it's as slow as watching paint dry".

Arriving back at the campground we had been invaded by every camper within 500km of the place with caravans and cars camped in side our tent.

It was time to go to bed (with our new friends) and go to sleep to the hum of the power station again.

I am looking forward to the isolation.

 Well this is what the brochure said.  Our experience was not as exotic but just as enjoyable.  But more on that later.

The morning began with the quickest pack up to date.  I think we even beat Chris and Jay? (Although we did spend 2 hours last night getting ready).  We were back on the tar and Jay was getting more annoyed as we were joining the caravan procession to Ayers Rock (or Uluru depending on your persuasion). 

We fooled the kids by getting excited when we saw Mt Conner saying 'look look, Uluru!'.  On its own mt Conner is unique projecting out of the plains, but it is the poor mans cousin to Uluru.  I am sure of it was not located so close it would be a major tourist attraction but many whiz by with only a pause for a photo before moving on to the main attraction.

We spent a bit longer venturing for a walk down to one of the many salt pans that scar the landscape

From here it was only another 80 or so km to camp.  The first thing you see as you finally round one of the many bends is the folded and faulted domes of Kata Tjuta, or the Olga's. Then the un-mistakable red rock formation rises from the plains growing larger and larger as you approach exposing all 348 metres of its mystic quality.  

Before fully experiencing its awe, we set up camp with the other 2376 caravans, tents, buses, Winnebagos, wicked campers and swags.  While Jay was getting to the point of claustrophobia were were lucky enough to not have booked which meant we had to go into the overflow area.  The reason this was lucky is that we were able to have our own fire.  To ensure we received the full traditional cultural experience of this place we then visited the supermarket and tourist shops.

But what we really came here for was the Rock. Heading our for sun set we sat and watched it transform from an orange monolith backlit by the bright blue sky, through to a fire red as the last rays of the sun hit its walls, and finally in to a blue hue with streaks of pink in the sky above. 

With wine and nibbles, a kick of the footy and a view to die for it does not get much better than this.

Weather the spiritual nature of the place made Kathy happy, or she had had enough of cooking, she decided to splurge and we went out to dinner at the resort.  And the emu and kangaroo pizza was bloody good.

There is no doubt this is one of the main reason we decided to take this adventure. While I still love the more remote camping and its isolation the majesty of the rock leaves an everlasting impression that every Australian must see once in their life.

We woke to a very chilly morning ready to do the Kings Canyon Walk.

Kings Canyon is very popular judging by the truck loads of tourists departing their busses in all manner of outfits from thongs to designer jeans. This is a far cry from the first explorers Ernest Giles and Samuel Carmichael who rode in on horseback naming the creek and its canyon after an old friend Fielder King.

Managing to get to the stairs first we began our climb to the top of the canyon for a 4 hour walk around the rim.  I can see why this place is so popular due to the spectacular gorge that has been cut through the ancient sandbed over 300,000 years. 

The path follows the edge of the Canyon, sometimes getting too close to the edge, as it disappeared into an never ending casm below. It was even more unfortunate to hear that a tourist fell only last week, a reminder that a beautiful place such as this can not be taken for granted.

The canyon rocks are a mix of shear vertical rock faces through to large mounds that looked like scoops of whipped cream.  Embed in the rocks are fossils and the ripples of sand dunes reminiscent of the skin of a snake.  It is easy to understand how the traditional Luritja people saw this as an important place created by the carpet snake. 

The bottom of the Canyon and its cool pools of water are a natural haven for plants and animals in an otherwise dry barren place.

The explorer Giles commented that:

Its springs, glens, ferns and Zambians and flowers would charm the eyes and hearts of toil worn men who are condemned to live and die in crowded towns.

It is the same reason we travel to these places to discover the wonders of this great outback that many in the city have never experienced.

Having finished the walk it was time to top up with fuel which was the most expensive fuel to date ($2.33/lt) which in the scheme of things was not to bad compared to $45 for a 6 pack of beer!

Then a quick walk to Kathleen Springs which was also used as an old stock grazing area due to the presence of permanent water.

The eavening we spent watching the sun slowly cast its red gaze over the face of the Canyon before retreating to the glow of another fire.  Unfortunately not enough time to savour its warmth as we had to pack ready for our next adventure tomorrow.

I have been fortunate enough to experience a range of campfires already on this trip.  For example:

We slightly improved our pack up time from 2.30 hours to 2 hours.  At this rate, in a weeks time we will be doing it in 30 seconds..... Ha ha.

Today was a trip around the Merinee Loop with a couple of stops along the way.  My map showed it as a dirt road all the way to Palm Valley which was a good feeling knowing we were soon to leave the caravans and Winnebagos behind.  

First stop was Redbank Gorge.  While you would think once you have seen one Gorge you have seen them all.  However the reality is that they are all different each having a unique character about them.  Redbank followed the creek line narrowing down in to a gorge that you could touch with both hands outstretched.  That's if you were keen to get in to the creek that flowed through the middle, and based on yesterday there were no volunteers. 

Back on the road.... Yes I am calling it a road as it turns out since my map was produced they have tarred the majority of the loop road.  Despite dodging more caravans the road was a pleasant drive.  As the road climbed through the range and peaked at Tyler's Pass you got a magnificent view out over the expansive flat sand plains.  Most amazing however was the circular mountain range rising out of the plains.  Known as Gosses Bluff, the mountains are the remnants of a comet strike 142 million years ago.  The comet, thought to be 1km in diameter had the force of 1 million times Hiroshima's. Not sure what the odds are of it happening in my lifetime but it would make one news story.  Driving in the the middle of the Bluff was gorgeous (even though it was not a gorge).