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© 2002 Brian F. Schreurs
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Alice Springs to Mt. Ebenezer

August 5, 2001

  2509 miles       refuel & depart Alice Springs
  2567 miles       refuel in Stuarts Well
  2568 miles       killed bird
  2624 miles       refuel in Erldunda
  2713 miles       refuel in Curtin Springs
  2857 miles       out of gas; jerrican
  2884 miles       overnight in Mt. Ebenezer

Our destination today is Yulara, the town conveniently located next door to Ayers Rock. On the atlas it doesn't look to be so far away, so we have a fairly leisurely morning. I do a little window shopping, then meander on over to Todd River.

Todd River is an interesting waterway inasmuch as it is a vast, flowing body of water for only a couple of weeks out of the year, and this is assuredly not one of those weeks. This week Todd River is dry as a sandbox. Since the river spends most of its time dry, homeless aboriginals live there in little clusters. Never mind that the government offers them free housing; apparently, these blokes prefer the riverbed. I have overheard some Australians to say that the main reason the Todd River floods is to clean itself out once a year.

"Where's Abbo?" Look closely in this panoramic photo of Todd River and you might find a few locals who call the riverbed home.

Todd River is also the site of the Alice Springs Yacht Club's annual regatta, though it must be pointed out that they don't wait for the river to have any water in it for this event. This is probably one of the world's most unusual regularly-organized athletic events; such a shame we're not here for it.

I regroup with Shane and Jason, and the three of us check out of our lodge and drive over to an open-air bazaar. There, Shane hits us with a bombshell:

"C'mon mates, let's find us some lodging in Yulara."

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Shane?" I ask. "We've never called ahead before."

But Shane is insistent, so we go to a travel agent and see what's available. Sure enough: nothing is available! Not in our price range anyway.

Over lunch, we consider our options. We don't have very many, so we go to an outdoor store and have a look at camping gear. While this store has a large selection of gear, it's all a bit expensive, so we leave emptyhanded and explore the bazaar for other options.

Jason and Shane. The picture of me, taking this photo while standing on the boot of the Jaguar in my socks, is unfortunately missing.

Just a few of the people who drove hundreds of miles to watch the sun set on the world's largest rock.

Within a few minutes it's evident that most of the bazaar consists of designer Outback clothes boutiques, meant for tourists who would never actually sleep on, you know, bare ground. It all looks real dapper but none of it would do anyone a lick of good in an actual Outback natural environment. We return to the outdoor store.

Only to find that it had closed while we were out cross-shopping.

Eep.

Well. At this point we're forced to choose between skipping Ayers Rock entirely or just trusting in providence as we should have to begin with. None of us much wanted to miss it after coming all this way, so we hightail it out of Alice Springs, an hour late.

A mere 60 miles into the trip, Shane is driving when we approach a dead kanagroo in the middle of the highway, one of probably hundreds we've seen along the way. The carrion birds lift off to circle overhead while we pass by, but one of them isn't fast enough. Shane gets it with the A-pillar, and we spend part of our next petrol stop cleaning bird guts off the windscreen and rain gutters.

Little else happens on the way to Yulara because we're keeping a cracking pace with no diversions. Due to our late departure, getting to Ayers Rock before sunset is not a sure thing.

But we do get there, with 20 minutes to spare. We stake out a spot in the rows of parking strategically located for the best viewing of the amazing Ayers Rock transformation at sunset. I kick my shoes off and set up my camera on a tripod on the boot of the XJ6, so that I can use extra-slow shutter speeds and really capture this natural wonder on film. Around me, hundreds of other weary travellers stake out their camper-sized plots for the glorious sunset, and several helicopters hover far overhead. It's an international gathering of humanity brought together by a shared desire to marvel the ineffable splendor presented by Mother Nature.

The sun set.

Utter silence as hundreds of breaths are momentarily held still.

Ayers Rock turned from reddish-brown to...

...to...

...brownish-red.

Amazing. Can I have an "hallelujah" from the row of Britz campers in the back please.

Ayers Rock sunset: beginning, middle, end.

Somewhat subdued, we head off in search of a room. No one wants to say anything, but there is a clear air of disappointment. While the sunset was pretty, it was, maybe, not quite of the "natural wonder" caliber.

The lodge at Yulara is clearly far beyond our means, a luxurious hotel where the staff wears suits and calls you "sir" even if you appear as though you have arrived on foot. We check for a room, they confirm they have one at $400 a night. Considering that our combined lodging bill to this point probably didn't add up to $400, we decline the room.

But just because we're not staying doesn't keep us from enjoying their massive outdoor barbecue. It's an interesting affair where they actually trust the patrons with searing hot griddles; they hand you the meat of your choice and you go cook it to your liking. It is particularly amusing watching the Japanese tourists try to work out the cooking procedure for hot dogs.

The three of us have reached loggerheads over what we should do for the night: Shane, the pessimist when his meds have worn off, feels it's inevitable that we'll spend the night in the car, so we might as well quit worrying about it and get comfortable here. Jason and I, optimists from desperation ("Can you believe how cranky Shane will be after spending the night in the car!"), aren't ready to give up.

Jason and I sneak off and borrow a map and a phone book from the main desk, then hit the payphone. We work our way back along Route 4, calling each roadhouse in turn. We finally find a room at Mt. Ebenezer, about two hours back. Jason and I weigh our options:

• Two hours of driving at night in a kangaroo-infested desert, where an errant roo or cow could clean us up in a hurry.
• A day with Shane after he's had no sleep from spending the night in the car.

We book the room, then go looking for Shane.

"C'mon Shane, we booked a room in Mt. Ebenezer," I tell him.

"Bloody hell, that's two hours away!" he counters.

"Is it?" Jason asks. "We'd better be on our way then."

Luckily, our return trip is quiet, and we only run out of petrol once.