Strong head winds slowed the truck’s progress as we laboured south toward Uluru (Ayers Rock). A delayed start to the trip had Jason, Crister, and myself second guessing if we’d make it in time for the sunset, a ‘must see’ for everyone visiting the ‘Red Centre’. At nearly 450 kms from Alice Springs, the odds weren’t in our favour, but we pushed on, fully expecting to experience the dynamic event which is the centrepiece of Australian legend. I must mention the story of Uluru from a geological standpoint as well as its cutural significance would make for great educational material for the kids’ programs. The three of us had elected to endure the five hour trip, one way, making this a quick turn, sunset one evening, then returning to The Alice the next day. Well, things don’t always go according to plan…

As the sun dipped low in the western sky, fingers of light in shades of pinks, reds, and golds pierced the clouds above it. It was one of the most spectacular sunsets we’d seen for days. And, we were twenty minutes too late. Bumper to bumper traffic was LEAVING the park; ours, the only one making its way against the tide, in the dark, toward the rock we were determined to see. The stark outline of Uluru rising over 350 metres above the desert floor, was barely visible against the star-filled sky. “Well,” sighed Jason, “I suppose we can capture sunrise instead.”
We made our way back to Yulara to find a camping spot for the night. Cold desert air reminded us that we’re still in winter here. Layering all of the clothes we’d brought with us, we crawled into sleeping bags, which would have to keep us til morning.

Dawn broke as we circled the base of the gigantic monolith. Many Aboriginal sacred sites, accompanied by stories of the Dream Time, were identified along the path at its base. In contrast, a line of ‘ants’ slowly inched its way up the steep rocky slab toward the summit. “Geez, look at all of those people,” exclaimed Crister in amazement. (I suppose man has a climbing instinct and whenever he encounters something over a few metres high, you can bet someone is going to attempt to scale it.) We continued around the base of the monolith, the circumference of which is 8.8 kilometres, while the line of ‘ants’ scaling Uluru began to dwindle.

Deciding to attempt the climb, we parked the truck and began our ascent. Not a fan of heights, I told the other two that I’d set my own pace and for them not to wait on me. Something about the log chain laying on the rock face which is a 60% grade, suspended between intermittent metal poles traversing a slab of vertical rock several hundred metres in the air (as tall as the Eiffel Tower, led me to believe I might not get too far. I began hauling myself up the rock…

While stopping to slow my heart rate and inhaling copious amounts of air, an angelic voice spoke up from the other side of the chain. “This is the hardest bit and if you go just a ways further, it becomes easier. A lot more fun, too, because you can turn around and see a long way.” The voice belonged to a cherub faced ten year old girl, who was on her way down. “Keep going, you can do it, and you’ll be so proud when you do,” she called over her shoulder. So, grabbing the large chain for security as well as support, I continued toward Jason and Crister, who waited ahead for me. Within an hour, we stood on the summit, staring for many kilometres in all directions.

Upon reaching the summit, I didn’t feel as if I’d conquered anything. I stood in humble silence, sharing space with a handful of people over one thousand feet above the desert floor. It was as if we were compatible with that space given us by the rock. Perhaps the lessons learned for me came from the efforts of our climb; perhaps we were influenced by others making the journey under special circumstances and their efforts to overcome their special needs. The three of us descended a couple of hours later with a different insight for having made the climb.

And, did we see the sunset? In a mad dash, returning from The Olgas nearby, in the late afternoon, we did indeed capture a magnificent view of Uluru’s reds in the fading light, giving us yet another vision to take away with us at day’s end.

April - journal entry