Outback to the Future

Devil's Marbles (hehe)

For the final leg of my outback adventures I left Alice Springs and again headed north following the Stuart Highway, and the Overland Telegraph line, (which Australians seem so darn proud of.) My final destination was the northern-most city of Darwin, but I had a thousand kilometers and three days worth of sightseeing to go before I reached it. I will admit I was fairly exhausted by this time, but knowing this would be my final leg in the "Red Centre," I decided to make the best of it. So as I boarded my northern heading bus at 5:30 in the morning, I did so with a determined mindset (and a grin I would describe more as a grimace.)
However, my first stop of real interest was the Tropic of Capricorn. Now for those of you not into your current Latitude-Tricia, the TC is the southern most line of latitude at which the sun can appear directly overhead, such as on the winter solstice, when Australia is closest to the sin. So I stood on the line of latitude officially marked as 23-26-16. It seemed significant at the time. (I mean that has to mean something right?)

My next stop was the place known as the Devil Marbles (stop giggling). The Devils Marbles are hundreds of rounded rock formations that formed over a few hundred acres of land in the middle of the outback. Some appear as if they can come crashing down at any moment. Aboriginal belief marks them as eggs left by the The Great Rainbow Serpent as she made her way through the area on the way to Uluru. English settlers named them the Devil's Marbles because of their obvious shape, and because they were first discovered by a particularly unfortunate sheep herder who was moving his sheep across the outback. As there is plenty of vegetation he stopped by the marbles for a night's rest and to let his sheep graze for the evening. When he awoke the next morning his entire herd was dead, with blood dripping from their mouths and eyes. This occurrence continued until it was found out that some of the plants in the are contain small razor-sharp thorns, and when ingested they literally tear an animal's insides up. Basically it would be like eating glass.

They say it is a replica of an alien, I don't know. I'm not an
expert. All I know is that I don't think you would like him
when he is angry.

Thus, there is a scientific reason for the massive and hauntingly creepy death of thousands of sheep and goats, however, my the owners of my next stop might be more apt to regard the occurrence as something extraterrestrial. That is because, I next found myself in the UFO capital of Australia and the owners of the Wycliffe Well Holiday Park and Rest Area take the situation very seriously. The insides of the their small restaurant are lined with newspaper clippings, articles, pictures, and all sorts of other "proof" of alien visitation, abduction, and cattle mutilation. The outside of the rest area and camper park is lined with life-sized alien replicas, greetings made to welcome and space-borne travelers, and even a full sized and well maintained landing area, (and chickens.) I have to assume many of the directions and more whimsical signs are meant more to attract tourists rather than aliens, but I was cautioned not to laugh at the claims of the owner as he was a true believer. The most famous being the Valentich Disappearance in 1978. A young pilot disappeared over Bass Strait, between Victoria and Tasmania, after reporting an unidentified craft moving at the same speed as his plane and hovering over him. Neither Valentich or his plane were ever seen again.

The outback seems full of strange stories, and my favorite is the story (legend) surrounding the founding of the outback town of Tennant Creek, where I also stopped for some rest and groceries. The Creek itself is a small little stream of water found in the lifeless desert that is the outback. It was first discovered by John McDouall Stuart and around it rose up a small community, aptly named Tennant Creek. The town still exists today, except it is no longer set beside the river's edge. Apparently, in the early-1900's all supplies for the town had to be brought up to the remote location by truck over the unpaved Stuart Highway. As the outback near Tennant experiences both wet and dry seasons, there have been known occurrences of flooding. During one of these floods the truck bearing all the supplies (but most notably the beer) became bogged down and stuck a few miles down the road from the creek. It was eventually decided by the townsfolk that they would walk to the truck and carry all the beer back to town, however when they reached the truck it was again decided that they could just drink the beer there. In time the Tennant Creek Hotel (and bar) rose up around the broken down supply truck, and eventually the town moved down to where the bar was. Thus, the entire town found itself several miles down the road, because in the end it was deemed better to be closer to the beer than the water. This is the legend anyway, I cannot verify its truthfulness, but having met some of the people I have out here, I have a hard time not believing it.

My favorite and (most anticipated stop) was Daly Waters. It is a town that is little more than a pub and a gas station, but the Daly Waters Pub is one of the most famous remote pubs in all of Australia. For some reason, ever since I read about its existence in Bill Bryson's In a Sunburned Country, I have been keen on seeing it. It was a pub that did not disappoint as the walls were littered with memorabilia and souvenirs from travelers from across the world. There were t-shirts, photos, business cards, ID cards, even bras and underwear hanging all over the wall. I even left my own business card to be added to the collection, so anyone traveling through the remotest part of the outback should keep your eyes open for Adam Brunner, New Jersey Legislative Aide. However, Daly Waters served a vital purpose during World War II, as it was along the major route that soldiers used as they made their way to the northern coast. It is also home to the Daly Waters Aerodome, which was a small unknown landing strip before the war turned it into a defensive airbase. It became home for several squadrons of the RAAF (Royal Australian Air Force) as well as a squadron of US B-52 Bombers. The hanger has fallen into disrepair, but it still has most of its original 1940's era electronics. It was an exciting view into the past, especially as an American. There were plenty of plaques and old pictures to quench my historical appetites.

Enjoying a 'pint' at the Daly Waters Pub

After my pint at the pub and a walk around the city to see the police station/post office/town hall/jail building, I bid farewell to the town with a booming population of 8 and continued north. Along the way I stopped to take a dip at the renown Mataranka Hot Springs, watch an alligator have its lunch, hike around the beautiful Katherine Gorge, and take in the sights of my final nights in one of the most desolate parts of the world. I was even privileged enough to take a small dip in one of the hidden waterfall filled pools of the Katherine River. Perhaps it was then that I realized that as desolate and uninviting as the Australian Outback can be, it really is a wondrous and beautiful place. It is a place that seems like it should be the most inhospitable place on earth yet at every turn there is something to be amazed by. Even more startlingly as we neared our destination the outback turned from a desert wasteland to an environment more akin to a tropical rain forest.

On that long final drive to my last destination I had time to reflect on my time in the "Red Centre." I had literally crossed the dead center of the country, from one coast to the next and I found it to be a place filled with strangeness and wonder. It is a place where children have to go to school via CB radio, (It is known as the School of the Air), or where doctors have to be flown in for even the most mundane of maladies (The Royal Flying Doctors). The outback is the kind of place where everyday would seem to be a struggle for survival, yet I have met people and places that are thriving among the waterless red sands. They may only have dial-up Internet on every Thursday, or they may only get 2 channels on the TV, or they may have to drive eight hours every two weeks to go grocery shopping, but there is a quiet contentedness to such existence. They know nothing else and they seemed happy (a little crazy, but happy). I have remarked before that Australia is a place almost out of time, but if it feels like 1995 in Melbourne, than it feels like 1895 in the Outback. However, that may not be a bad thing. After all, the roadhouse always still seem to be able to keep cold beer on tap.