These are the Voyages

Lake's Entrance, Southeast Victoria

Captain's Log, Stardate, 0522.11;

I find myself again in a strange new world... boldly going... where no one... has gone before... and other split infinitives.

I began the next phase of my journey by renting a less than impressive yellow hatchback coup, which I have come to name the Yellow-Hornet. (I realize the name is redundant, but I found that I was rather tired and out of ideas.) I set out from Melbourne after attending a friend's going away party the previous night. My first destination was the Yarra Wine Valley.

However, before I could reach my first point of interest I found that I had to make a daring escape from Melbourne. Like a prisoner escaping a Nazi camp I had to smuggle myself outside the city limits without drawing too much attention. The reason for this is that the tolls on the major Melbournian highways are all automated. Apparently, there is no booth where one can pay cash. I find it ironic, that in a country where Internet is restricted by gigabytes, and I lose cell phone reception when I get more than 10 miles outside of any major metropolitan area, that there are no cash toll boothes on the major highways. (I mean you can cash on the Garden State Parkway for Shatner's sake.) So with the incessant voice of my dash mounted GPS, I wound my way through suburbs and back roads, avoiding any major highways, byways, motorways, freeways, or subspace-corridors. However by 12:30 hours I had made my way out of Melbourne and was well on my way, destination Sydney.

Thus, on a rainy and wet day I reached the Yarra Wine Valley, and though the day was less than impressive the vineyards and farmlands I drove through were not. After buying provisions of bread, peanut-butter, Tim-Tams, and cereal, I was set for my 5-Day Mission. I had lunch in a park near the Shire of Healesville (yes it is actually called a shire). The town itself seemed more like it belonged in upstate New York or Vermont, than in Australia. The leaves were turning hues of orange and brown and for a moment I again felt myself lost and surprised in the great continent of Australia. I was surrounded by an upscale suburban sprawl in parking lots of BMW's and horses (yes there actually were horses tied up outside of the mall.)

I did not linger too long after taking in the beautiful sights as my final destination for my first day of travel was the Gippsland Lakes region of Victoria. So after lunch and and sight-seeing, Yellow-Hornet and I set out for the long drive ahead. The day was raining and the roads were slick, but my real problem seemed to be holding onto radio stations. After a fruitless quest for a half-decent channel I settled myself on a station that was content to play the same 20 songs in repeat (So like any NYC station). Over the next days I would hear that new Snoop Dogg song 37 times, the Rhianna Song 22 times, and Lady Gaga 217 times, (and that was only after the first day).

The Gippsland Lakes themselves are a collection of lakes culminating in a place called Lakes Entrance where you can find Ninety-Mile Beach, (Australians are very creative when it comes to naming.) As I arrived after dark, I set out on a small quest to find the lake that glowed in the dark. It happens because of a certain microbe that lives in the lake and produces a soft bio-luminescent glow when churned up by rain. Unfortunately, I failed. Whether it was due to my tiredness or the lack of microbes in the water an hour later I was left facing the reality that this was one natural wonder I would not find. However, I do think I convinced a few natives that I was a crazy American in search of a glowing mystical lake.

So swallowing my failure I ended my first night at a small backpackers lodge in Lakes Entrance. This small motel-like place was cheap and a little creepy. Its facilities were basic and some of the patrons seemed to be missing teeth. As you can understand I decided not to hang around any longer than was necessary, and after a hastily eaten dinner I retired to my bunk-bed for the night. However, two of the patrons I met are worth mentioning. They are Hans and Brunhilde (names are fictional to protect the identity of the scary). While eating dinner I noticed this unmistakable German couple. Hans has a handle-bar mustache that would put any 1910's baseball player to shame, and Brunhilde could probably snap any 1910's baseball player in half. Basically, I don't know if they have biker gangs in Germany, but if they do, Hans and Brunhilde would be charter members. At the time I marked them down as a mild curiosity, smiled, and nodded politely and put them out of my mind. Little did I know I would be seeing them again, and again, and again...

That's not fog, that's cloud cover... and I actually think it was
probably better that I couldn't see what was over the edge.

Regardless, the next morning as I watched the sun come up over the lakes on Ninety-Mile Beach, while eating a cup of cornflakes. It was simple yet beautiful, but I did not linger too long (even after locking myself out of the bunk room for an hour), as I had my longest day of driving ahead of me.

My goal for the day was the Australian capital of Canberra, but first I knew I had to cross through the Australian High Country, and the Australian Alps. These are the highest mountain ranges in mainland Australia. the are part of the area known as the Great Dividing Range, which is the third longest mountain range in the world. Some peaks reach over 6,000 feet high. They are called the Australian Alps, because it is believed that they are actually an extension of The Alps from a time before the continents had drifted apart from one another. It took European settlers more than twenty years to discover a path through the range, and I can understand why.

I traveled the historic Alpine Road, which does not even begin to describe the dizzying heights I was brought when driving this road. My trip was fought with sharp turns, treacherous precipice, and pea-soup-like fog. At one point I encountered a road aptly named Thank-Christ Corner. (See how creative they can be in naming things) I even caught sight of my first Australian snow on Mt. Buller (which acts as one of Australia's premiere and high-flying ski resorts). However, I am not exaggerating when I say that I reached the peak of the mountain, and found myself not so much in fog as I did in clouds. The wind was blasting, the conditions were wet and icy, and one wrong turn and I knew I was going down the mountain the hard way. As scary as my drive was it was exhilarating in a way, and I did not let the beauty of the snow covered mountain, (even shrouded in fog,) escape my notice. However, I was more than grateful when I returned to level ground on the far side of the mountain range.

Oh... Look... It's on a tuckerbox??

This was a long day of driving (more than 10 hours), but I did have one detour to make. I was informed that I needed to stop to see The Dog on the Tuckerbox. Now for anyone who is confused why this might be a sight worth seeing... I'm completely with you. (It is part of a poem by Boynage Yorke.) So on the suggestion of another I went in search of this fabled dog on a tuckerbox, (and I still have no idea what a tuckerbox is.) I found the dog at a rest stop area along side the main highway. It was... exactly what I expected. It was a small bronzed dog sitting on a square box that said "Tuckerbox." Around the statue was a fountain and a lot of excited Australians. Apparently, there is even a Dog on the Tuckerbox Festival held every year. (...find new life and new civilizations...)

So after I took a few pictures I headed on my way, assuming it probably would have been more exciting if I was in fact Australian. However, I found it worthwhile as a peek in the Aussie psyche. Either way, with that unusual detour behind me, I found myself back on the highway and within 2 more hours I was driving I was in the city of Canberra, but that is another story.

End Log.

Darwinism

I altered it to make it clearer, but I swear I found this sign
outside a construction sight in Darwin

The biggest city in the Northern Territory is Darwin. It is not only the territory's capital city, but also one of its most shocking cities. After experiencing Alice Springs, I suppose I was not expecting much from Darwin, but I found myself mistaken. In fact, Darwin is almost an awe-inspiring site after having spent so long among the desolation of the Outback. It is a modern bustling metropolis with a thriving shipping industry and a vibrant tropical vacation feel. In short, I was expecting Smallville, Kansas and I got Honolulu, Hawaii.
I did not think of the irony, of Darwin until after I was walking around its small, but well stocked CBD (Central Business District). In a country that has some of the most atheists per capita, I suppose it is not surprising to find a city named Darwin. However, it was not named as some political statement made against religion, but it was named by Commander John Clements Wickham of the HMS Beagle, who named it after his friend Charles Darwin. Even more surprisingly, Darwin did not spring up spontaneous as a settlement, even though it sits in an idyllic harbor on a nearly tropical coast that offers easy ship access to Asia. No, the city was in fact founded for three reasons. First, it is the last and northern most link in the Overland Telegraph Line (I am telling you this country loves that thing like the Swiss love cheese,) and from Darwin, the line was then run all the way back up to England. That meant getting and receiving messages would take only a few days as opposed to several months. The next two reasons were for defense, not only from foreign attack but from foreign settlement. The Dutch were the first to map the northern shores of where Darwin sits, and this made the British rather nervous. So determined not to make the same mistake they did with the Americas, and allow other countries like France, Spain, or Holland to get any piece of the Aussie Pie, Britain became determined that a settlement needed to be created on the Northern Ocean as quickly as possible lest someone else claim it for themselves.

Thus, Darwin is the newest city in Australia, and is also one of the most modern. It is small by comparison and any well meaning traveler (such as yours truly) can explore it in a day. It has a few beaches, most of which are rocky, but the real danger of the water is that the coasts are teaming with Saltwater Crocodiles and Box Jelly Fish. In other words, I was somewhat put off of swimming. However the Darwin wharf area did provide a few alternatives to the beach as they offered a man-made wave pool, and a small protected lagoon complete with nets to ward off crocs (though they could not guarantee that there were no jellyfish.) On my last night of stay I checked out the Mendil Markets at Mendil Beach. The beach was beautiful and I was present to witness a truly spectacular sunset over the water, but as for the market themselves I found them to be not as impressive as I had been originally led to believe. My Lonely Planet travel guide listed the Mendil Markets as one of the "must see" attractions of Australia, what I found was an atmosphere more akin to the St. Phillip's Carnival, filled with slow moving people, greasy food, and merchants intent on selling me as much useless stuff as they possibly could. I am not saying it was on overall bad experience and certainly the variety and sheer size of the offerings was impressive, but I guess I was expecting something more than stalls selling cheep jewelery and stuffed kangaroos. However, I did finally indulge in an Australian favorite, Dutch Pancakes (because down under, pancakes are considered desert.) It was 19 mini-pancakes with a scoop of ice cream and a choice of syrups. I was happy to select chocolate.

Memorial Gun salvaged from the USS Peary. The barrel is
pointed to the exact resting place of the American Destroyer.

What really interested me the most in Darwin was its history during the war. Darwin was the only Australian city that came under direct attack by the Japanese during World War II and I spent the better part of my first day exploring the historical significance of such an event. On February 19, 1941 Darwin was bombed by 188 Japanese bombers and fighters. The event basically culminates in the Australian "Pearl Harbor," as the psychological damage it did to the Australian populace is typically considered greater than any actual military loss that was suffered. The real problem arose because a formation of ten P-40's and ten B-17E's had just departed Darwin 20 minutes earlier bound for Timor, but were forced to turn back due to bad weather. When the Japanese formation was first detected it was mistaken for the returning allied craft and no one acted on the warning. Thus, the Japanese had almost free reign to attack and bomb. The returning flight of American P-40's were almost immediately overwhelmed and shot down. In the aftermath 8 ships laid at the bottom of Darwin Harbor with others left burning and crippled. Among the sunk ships were the HMAS (His Majesty's Australian Ship) Maive, the US Armored Transport Meigs, the US Merchant ship Mauna Loa, and the USS Peary. According to the plaques I poured over the USS Peary was given special honor, not only because it was one of the largest ships that was sunk on that day, but because the destroyer fought to the end. Even as the bow of the ship started sinking into the sea the American gunners kept up their anti-aircraft fire in defense of the harbor. The city itself was almost completely leveled as the majority of the civilian population hid underground in deep shaft that was originally built for housing the major oil, gas, and water piping that ran under the city. Among the memorials I found most moving were the ones dedicated to the American servicemen that fought and died defending Australian waters. The Memorial erected to the USS Peary and the more than 90 sailors that went down with the destroyer inspired in me a particular awe as I looked out to the spot in the harbor where the ship still sat to this day. It all seemed to me as a reminder on how close America and Australia truly are to one another.

Darwin Harbor... It's even more tropical than it looks.

Another interesting note I took of the city was the lack of Aboriginals. I am not saying that they did not have a presence in Darwin, but not to the extent I would have expected. Ever since Alice Springs, I have found myself taking more and more note of the native population. Their numbers are greatest in the Northern Territories because it was one of the last areas of the country to be settled, and thus, by default it was the last place left where most of the Aboriginals had not been killed, relocated, or generally harassed away by the white settlers. However, Darwin did not have anywhere near the number of Aboriginals that I would have expected, especially after visiting Alice Springs and towns like Katherine. I can only wonder if that is because Darwin and its residents do a better job of taking care of their native population, or if they were more thorough in pushing them out of the almost picturesque city. I fear, perhaps, that it is the later to be more true than the former.

All in all, I found myself being rather impressed with Darwin. Maybe it was because I entered into the city with low expectations, or maybe it is because it is a truly impressive beach-front city. The tropical heat combined with the swaying palm trees and miles of blue ocean made it seem as if I was no longer in the Australia I had assumed I knew. Darwin is a surprising world apart even in the world apart that is the rest of Australia. It just goes to show that this country has plenty of more surprises to offer, and I look forward to discovering them all.

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.

Surviving in the Post-Apocalyptic Australia

Travel Light. All you need is a jug of water, a few
weapons, some basic first aid supplies, and your
walking boots. (Dog is optional)

Welcome, my loyal readers and anyone who still has available use of the Internet. As you are all aware of, over the weekend, the world was raptured. The end days have truly come, and now the world is engulfed in the holy hellfire (oxymoron) that will be our untimely doom. Since I have dedicated myself to keeping this blog updated, I have managed to cobble together a modem from an old car battery, on broken cell phone, and a coconut in order to continue my journalistic endeavours from the other side of the world. Now for those of you who in this new age were not taken up to heaven by the holy rapture and have watched as the world has fallen into chaos and major looting (though in Walmart who can really tell the difference), you may not be quite "in-the-know" about what has been going on in Australia since the Armageddon has come. So for you, I offer a few simple rules for surviving Down Under in this Age of Apocalypse.

1. Scavenge What You Can
Do not let anything go to waste if you can use it. An old hubcap makes a great hotplate, a piece of glass slices and dices like there is no tomorrow, and an old computer should at least be able to do word processing. Remember you do not have to find the right tool for the job, as long as it is close.
MOST ESSENTIAL ITEM: Old iPod. Keep it charged, and it is an excellent defense against the Wallabysaurus, (Half Wallaby, Half T-Rex, All Lover,) as most early-nineties rock bands force the creature into a hypnotic trance. Pearl Jam works the best for some reason.

2. Dress for Success
Now that everything has pretty much gone to hell, you are going to need to get up to date on the standard of dress in the new reality that is Australia. I have found you can never go wrong with leather. Black leather is best, but gray and brown can be acceptable. White should only be a last resort, (I mean its the Apocalypse, not the 80's) You get bonus points if you can rip off one sleeve or even add some decorative metal spikes.

Australian Dress in the Age of Apocalypse. Its almost an
improvement over some of the people I used to see walking
down the street in Melbourne.

3. Always Wear Clean Socks

Just trust me.

4. Pray
Now, I'm not talking about praying for salvation or anything quite so nebulous. I mean if you were really God-Fearing you would have been raptured with all those other goody-2-shoes. No, when I say PRAY I am talking about the mandatory 3 hours of prayer that is required every morning to Lord Jackastophiles, the Demonroo (A demon kangaroo who can jump 300 feet high, yet still has wings) who has proclaimed himself overlord of the majority of Western Australia. I am not saying you have to believe anything you are saying (may he live for all eternity and in his fiery arms we are sheltered), but the Great Lord Jack has been known to get pretty PO'ed if he find his subjects not groveling. Maybe the best advice is to stay out of Western Australia... if you can get across the 50-foot wide bottomless chasm that was the Nullabor.

5. Drink Plenty of Water
I cannot stress enough the importance of hydration. Whether you are running as predator or as prey, you will be thankful that your body is full of life giving H2O. Granted water has become harder to come by in this new age, as some of the natural fresh water sources in the country have been taken over by 80 foot-long Freshwater Crocodiles, but hey, no pain no gain. This of course brings me to my next point:

6. Serpentine Patterns
Dodging and evasion skills are nessecary. Whether you are facing an 80 foot croc or a pack of Giant Raptor-Emus, if you run from side to side there is more a chance that you might just survive with that precious drink of water or to enjoy that 4-foot omelet. Before entering into any situation you should already have your escape route planned, and do whatever you can to make yourself a harder to catch target. Serpentine skills are essential (unless your facing a 50-foot cross-eyed wombat. Running side to side will then only get you killed).

7. Beware of Raiders
I know this seems obvious, but you would be surprised how many people forget themselves or get way too overconfident. Whatever you do, DO NOT fall for any of the obvious tricks like: the injured "pretty girl," the crying child on the side of the road, or the suspiciously labeled "Free Ice Cream" truck (That guy in the Mr. Frosty outfit is only offering a creamy frozen helping of doom). Beware of all overturned vehicles blocking your path or any vacant building or caves that seems too good to be true. They are most likely teeming with with vicious and knife wielding raiders just ready to take what little you own in this world.

LEFT: Pre-Armageddon Australia;
RIGHT: Post-Armageddon Australia
(Hey there is only so much that can happen with desert)

8. Find Allies
Having people who you trust to watch your back not only improves your chances of survival, but helps stave off the slow creeping insanity that will surely engulf you on that lonely road to nowhere. I suggest finding yourself an enigmatic sidekick, or becoming some one's enigmatic sidekick. If you have a choice the former is preferable to the later, as the "hero" role usually comes with a higher survivability rate. (Also for ladies, you may want to try on the role of the "love interest.")
CAUTION: Even though an ally is a valuable asset you must also be aware of the classic "last minute betrayal."

9. Cannibalism is NEVER Okay
I know what your thinking "Oh, but Adam, I'm hungry, and my girlfriend just mistakenly put barbecue sauce on herself instead of sunscreen." Well, don't even think about it buddy, no matter how much condiments your lady friend slathers on herself, cannibalism is wrong. (Use condiments and practice safe lunch, kids.) The world may be over, but you are still a human being for Jack's sake, (may he live for all eternity and in his fiery arms we are sheltered.) Show some control and cling to at least your last shreds of morality and JUST SAY NO. Eating human flesh is dangerous and stupid. Don't you know it is a gateway meat to more serious meats, (such as Kangaroo.)

10. Use Sunscreen
No, I'm not starting a cute graduation speech that will eventually be spoken over jazzy and soft inspirational music. I mean you need to protect your skin from dangerous UV radiation at all times. If you thought Australia had a sun problem back when society had not fallen into a nightmarish hellscape, than you have seen nothing. Not only is there no ozone over the entire continent, but now that the sun has turned blood red its radiation output has jumped by two-fold. The atmosphere over Australia is actively sucking in as much heat and radiation as possible. If your skin is not protected your last words will be "Do you smell something cooking?"


So there you have it, my Top-Ten Tips for Surviving Australia in the Age of Apocalypse. I was thinking of submitting them to Dave Letterman... assuming New York is still standing.

Alice in Wonderland

Alice Springs

As I sit and write this I find myself in the city of Alice Springs. It is basically a city in the same way Hackensack, NJ is a city. It is a place that stays alive because it has the largest airport that is closest to Uluru. Its not a bad little place, but there is not a lot to do. I am here for two days as I wait to depart on my next trip to Darwin. So here I sit in Alice, the southernmost outpost of civilization in the Northern Territory, which in itself if a weird place.

I want to take a moment to talk about the Northern Territory in general. First off, it is a "territory," not a state. Apparently the residents of the Northern Territory vote against statehood in the same way that Texas votes against the Democratic Party. The funny thing is that being a territory as opposed to a state has no real benefit to it. It really only means that the NT has absolutely no say in the creation of laws in Australia. They have no voting power in Parliament, however, they must still elect representatives to send to Canberra, representatives who are not allowed to vote. Imagine being elected to simply go and fill a seat, basically be nothing more than a spectator in government, and exercises no rights or influence over anything that happens. It makes me wonder if they just rotate the position around the 230,000 people who live here by drawing lots. (You might think that is the easiest job ever, but you've never sat through a session of Australian Parliament.) Couple this with the fact there is no real resources or industry in the NT (Northern Territory) in which to make a substantial living and you can start to get what sort of people would live here. Unlike Victoria it has a very small mining industry, it does not have anything close to the wine industry of New South Wales, or even the abundant sheep industry of South Australia. Tourism keeps it alive, but other than some small cattle stations, and a group of people who make their living by capturing and selling wild camels (I am not kidding. I met them... Apparently a black camel is worth 1 million dollars because they are valued in Saudi Arabia,) there really is not a lot to do up here.

The best way I find that I can describe the NT is that the people of Australia look at the Northern Territory, the same way the world tends to look at Australia in general: remote, full of desert, and people who may have spent a bit too long in an ozone-less sun. As I find these types of stereotypes are not always accurate when talking about Aussies in general, they may hold some credence when talking about the people of the NT. Alice Springs, thus exists on this weird threshold of being a modern city and a wild west town. (Sidenote: it is also known as the Lesbian Capital of Australia... no idea...) It is also a place where the most shootings occur, if only because it is the place that has the most guns in all of Australia. It has a large Aboriginal population, but they are almost completely ignored by the Australian populace of the city. It is strange to watch two populations occupy the same space, yet almost act as if the other one does not exist. Obviously, that is a task that seems to be easier for the Australians as the indigenous people cannot escape the modern world (as much as I think they would want to.) At night the city grows quiet except for a small little strip of bars. The major attraction is a bar called Bojangles. (It has all sorts of stuff and kooky things on the wall... You mean Shenanigans?) Even the Aboriginal people who spend most of their days sitting on the dry river bed of the The Todd River disappear at night. Aboriginals are somewhat scared of the dark, so its less likely to see one walking around the streets at night.

As for my own entertainment, I spent the day exploring the city in the same way that I usually do when presented with a new center of civilization. Sufficed to say ,it didn't take long and there wasn't much to see. The only main attraction of the town seems to be the Alice Springs Historic Telegraph Station. Established in 1872 it is the best preserved of the 12 stations along the Overland Telegraph Line. The township of Alice Springs takes its name from the waterhole a short distance to the east of the Station buildings, which itself is named after the wife of the original telegraph operator, Alice. The station operated for 60 years, and then served as a school for Aboriginal children. Nowadays it is one of the last remaining of the historic telegraph stations that used to make up the old line, a line that eventually extended to communications with Britain. It was a 3200 km in length and connected Darwin with Port Augusta in South Australia. Completed in 1872 the Overland Telegraph Line was one of the great engineering feats of 19th century Australia... As you can see its an amazing and fascinating history...

This is literally the most entertaining thing I have seen in
Alice Springs.

Anyway, I set out from my hostel and heading along the "Alice Springs Discovery Trail." The trail is basically a small foot path that follows the dry river bed of The Todd river (obvious-Scrubs-joke high-five.) It wound its way through he backside of the city passing such historic places like "The Todd Bar" or the Returning Veterans Hall (basically a VFW). I was interested in one building I came across, for as I was walking down the small path, out of the corner of my eye I beheld a beautiful sight that made me jump back in amazement. I had to stop to wipe a small tear from my eye as I turned to see a red, white, and blue, star spangled flag flying proudly in the morning breeze. It is amazing how shocking it can be to see an American Flag flying after so long of not seeing it. It was flapping happily next to an Australian flag in a small complex that was calling to me for further investigation. I walked up to the fence and found the Joint Geological and Geophysical Research Station operated by Geoscience Australia and the United States Airforce. Basically it is a small monitoring station for seismic activity. Truthfully, I felt bad for the poor US Air Force schlub that was selected to work it. Imagine being told you are going to be stationed in Australia, but not Sydney... or Melbourne... or Brisbane... but Alice Springs. ("What is there to do in Alice Springs?" "I hear Bojangles has a lot of crazy stuff on the wall...")
 

ANZAC Hill

Anyway I continued my trek to the Historic Telegraph Station as the city scape quickly turned to outback desert. The path became less of a walking path and more of a hiking trail, but within an hour I reached the telegraph station. I must admit that the only reason I had even the vaguest of interests in the station was that (1) I was bored, and (2) Bill Bryson visited it in his book In a Sunburned Country. I entered the overpriced souvenir shop (because apparently everyone is clamoring for the Alice Springs Historic Telegraph Station Hat and matching boomerang,) and learned that entrance to the station was more than I was willing to pay. So I immediately turned around and left. I am all for seeing an obscure piece of Australian Communications history, but I'm not paying for it. I can't imagine they get a lot of customers. From my impression of the place it seemed small and not even the people of Alice Springs cared very much about the station.

So with the disappointment of not seeing the telegraph station I found a billboard telling me about an old Aboriginal trail through the outback (or the bush as some call it), and I instead spent my next hour hiking through the small mountainous region surrounding Alice Springs. I rounded out my day with a hike up ANZAC hill to see the memorial commemorating World War I, and a trip to the supermarket to buy some lunch.

Though Alice Springs is a nice little town, I must admit that I am somewhat anxious to be gone from it. The hostel I am staying at is a converted outdoor theater, and as cool as that sounds it just kind of cold and windy. Other than the main shopping strip, most of the buildings in town have corrugated tin roofs and seem like they would be more at home on a forward operating base (FOB) in the sands of Iraq, than in a city that boasts a population of 27,000. Most of the people I arrived here with from my trip left this morning to adventures unknown and here I find myself trying to find new and inventive ways to spend my days. Well at least I have time to update my blog and work on my novel.

All things...

Kata Tjuta

Ultimately, I have found that the only explorer worth talking about is, personal experience. We all experience the world differently, whether we are Australian, French, German, Klingon, British, Canadian, or Adam. The great thing about exploration and discovery is that we all are looking for different things in similar experiences. Some are looking for external discovery, or internal understanding, or even pictures for Facebook (and I have lots of pictures.) The outback is a strange and wondrous place. It is certainly not somewhere I would wish to live, (as most people who do live there go at least partially crazy from isolation,) but it is also a place I don't mind visiting. My journey was hardly as arduous as the journeys of Sturt, Stuart, or Burke and Wills but it was met with its fair share of small triumphs and tragedies. Whether it was the annoyance of the flies or falling asleep watching the stars, whether it was sacrificing my favorite pair of shorts or dancing the night away at some far flung bar with my international friends I have found my own sense of the outback. I cannot measure it in samples of flora and fauna or routes mapped to water or even in the miles I traveled, but it is an experience that will stay with me.

We spent our final days exploring Kata Tjuta and Kings Canyon. There was a lot of hiking and even a fair bit of climbing, but the views of the landscape only improved with each meter above sea-level that we traveled. We plunged into the oasis that was the Garden of Eden in the middle of Kings Canyon and some of our party literally plunged into the garden's freezing waterhole while the rest of us sat around eating chips and granola bars. Much like Uluru we found a place of beauty that was sacred to the native population and taking one look at the majestic red rock cliffs and expansive views it was not hard to understand why.

Kings Canyon

Our last night was spent under the stars at Kings Creek Cattle Station which was haunted... sort of. Aboriginal people are apparently terrified by the place and usually refuse to step foot anywhere near the land where the cattle station is located. It is said to be inhabited by the evil shaman spirit Waiwera. Small tornado-like occurrences happen in the outback when warm air mingles with cold breezes to create a circular wind effect. It is the same basic concept as regular tornadoes and it is an occurrence you can see almost anywhere, such as when a leaf is picked up by cross winds and blown in circles. Aboriginal people believe that such a phenomenon is Waiwera. They say that is how he travels and much like the Tasmanian Devil or Red Tornado he travels from one place to another appearing as a small cyclone of air. As usual, I did not know this when we stayed At Kings Creek Cattle Station, and as usual Steve, our guide, slept in the bus. That night I stayed up late playing drinking games with my French, German, and Swiss friends, which meant I basically had to go to the bathroom every two hours. So round about two o'clock in the morning I was walking back from the bathroom and I had a strange sense of being watched. (admittedly it could have been because there were teeming multitudes of mice running around and moving in the tall grass, but I think it might have been more.) Even weirder the wind seemed to kick up behind me as I walked, almost like it was following me. I suppose the mind plays tricks on you when you are half asleep and dragging your butt back to a warm sleeping bag on a cold windy night.

However, Steve told us of an occurrence that has happened a few times to some of the people in his former groups. The most impressive was of a Dutch woman who was traveling with her daughter. She was actually had a doctorate of biology and was a smoker. That night she walked away from the fire to smoke a cigarette and look at the stars alone. A few moments later she let out a blood curdling scream that alerted the rest of the group to come running. When they got to her she was shaking from head to toe and felt queasy and weak-kneed. Apparently, she described the sensation that something was holding her down, pressing on her shoulders. She felt like she couldn't move. So they listened sympathetically and guided her back to camp to sit by the fire. Her daughter sat next to her and put her arm around her scared mother. Suddenly, the wind kicked up out of no where and a small swirling breeze moved into camp, dampened the fire and picked up some of the ash from the fire and threw it on top of mother and daughter before moving off. Supposedly, this type of phenomenon and behavior was witnessed on several occasions by different people. I never saw anything this conclusive, but it does make you think. Maybe the aboriginal people are not wrong for staying away from the place.

Either way, we put the place behind us and headed to Alice Springs, the most remote and smallest of Australia's major cities, but I will leave that for another post.

Ulur-who?

Uluru before the sunrise

My favorite outback explorers are Robert O'Hara Burke and William John Wills. As far as explorers go they are the Laural and Hardy of Aussies explorers. They set out from Melbourne in 1860 in a race against John McDouall Stuart to collect the 2,000 pound reward to be the first explorers to cross the 143 longitude line. Burke was selected as expedition leader, even though he had no experience in exploration and was a policeman that had no knowledge or skill in bushcraft (survival in the outback). Rather than take cattle to be slaughtered as the expedition traveled, it was decided that dried meat would be taken instead. The meat required three extra wagons and slowed the pace of the expedition down exceedingly. Among some of the other more useful things that Burke and Wills took with them were a cedar-topped oak table, rockets, 80 pairs of shoes, beds, a vast assortment of hats, and a Chinese gong. All told, the equipment weighed about 20 tons. (It took them two weeks to travel from Melbourne to Menindee, a trip that was regularly accomplished in one week by the Australian Postal Service.)

Among some of their wiser decisions were to feed the camels Rum in a belief that it prevented scurvy, yet to lighten their load they left behind the majority of their guns and ammunition. At this point two of the expedition's five officers resigned and thirteen members of the expedition were fired. Impatient with the slow pace, Burke and Wills took fifteen of the strongest horses, seven of the fittest men, and a small amount of the supplies and pushed on to Cooper Creek. The plan was to wait there for the expedition and the majority of the supplies to catch up, but Burke was impatient and the desert was hot. So it was decided that Burke and Wills with two other men would push on to the Gulf of Carpentaria and return to Cooper Creek when the rest of the supplies showed up. Travel was easy as it was the rainy season, but the swamps near the Flinders River slowed them considerably. They never made it to the gulf before they ran out of supplies. They turned back, but the rainy season was over and the trip back was much worse. The remaining camels were shot and eaten along with their only horse, Billy. As they traveled they left a line of dead camels, equipment, shoes, and hats, like a morbid trail of death and Chinese gongs.

The supplies and men waiting for their return at Cooper Creek had been waiting 18 weeks at this point. They decided to depart back to Melbourne on the morning of April 21. Burke and Wills arrived in Cooper Creek on the evening of April 21, missing the departure of their supplies and salvation by only nine hours. So Burke and Wills set off again following the small Cooper Creek down river to Mount Hopeless (sounds promising right?) They left a note in the buried cache of supplies that their party had left at Cooper Creek, but neglected to change the date on the mark left at the campsite. Meanwhile, the supply wagons that had departed Cooper Creek, decided to turn around and come back in hopes that Burke and Wills had returned. They arrived on May 8, just missing Burke and Wills by only a few days. Since the mark was never changed the party just assumed that Burke and Wills had never returned and went home. Predictably, Burke and Wills were never seen again.

Uluru after the sunrise

Burke and Wills expedition was made up of five Englishmen, six Irishmen, four Indian sepoys, three Germans, and one American. My little group was made up of Germans, French, Swiss, Australians, British, Canadians, Chinese, and one American. Following in the spirit of Burke and Wills, we made our way to Uluru (basically that big rock that is on every postcard you have ever seen of Australia.) Uluru also known as Ayers Rock, is a large sandstone rock formation in the southern part of the Northern Territory. It is sacred to the Aṉangu, the Aboriginal people of the area. It has many springs, waterholes, rock caves and ancient paintings. Uluru is listed as a World Heritage Site. Uluru is an inselberg, literally island mountain, an isolated remnant left after the slow erosion of an original mountain range. The remarkable feature of Uluru is its homogeneity and lack of jointing and parting at bedding surfaces, leading to the lack of development of scree slopes and soil. These characteristics led to its survival, while the surrounding rocks were eroded. Uluru and the Kata Tjuta mountains are unlike any of the surrounding landscape or rocks. More to the point it is believed that what we see of Uluru is nothing but the top of a much larger and intact rock formation, kind of like an iceberg.

Uluru is a sacred place to the Aboriginal people as it basically the crux of their entire creation story. There are many stories that are told around it, which help explain the workings of the earth and formation of the rock. Among one of their beliefs is that one of the Great Snakes that formed the continent is resting underground and Uluru is its back. That is why they do not like people climbing on it, because their beliefs say that when the snake wakes up, the world is over. So in hopes of preventing Armageddon they try to discourage the tourist population from climbing the rock. However, if the world is going to come to an end, it  seems pretty likely that it would be through tourism.

As for our own experiences we spent nearly two days exploring the great rock, learning about its history and culture. I declined to climb the rock as somehow it did not feel right to do so. It felt kind of like walking into a Jewish temple eating a ham sandwich. Just because some people may look down on the beliefs of the Aboriginal people, that does not mean we should not respect their wishes. So even though you can climb Uluru, doesn't mean that you should. There is an undeniably holy feel to the whole area, which also added to my decision.

I found the sight of the rock as one of those things that is hard to absorb. It is hard to stand in front of it and actually be able to wrap your mind around the fact that you are standing where you are. Many of the pictures I have taken look fake even to me. They look photoshopped, and even though I was the one standing behind the lens it is hard to think that they are authentic. We watched the sun both set and rise over Uluru. It is an indescribable sight to watch the rock change colors as the sun moves. At night it turns deep shades of red and purple and in the morning it is only a silhouette on the horizon until it is brilliantly illuminated by the rising sun. The only thing better that cold morning was the cup of hot chocolate I was drinking and a sense that I was looking at something truly wondrous and ancient.



My expedition party



It is hard not get almost spiritual as you look at the rock. There is a theory that the rock is actually part of the meteorite whose impact caused the continent of Australia to violently separate from Africa a few hundred million years ago. Though this can't be substantiated the rock does have a measurable electromagnetic field around it, which may be partly why so many people are affected with a sense of almost divine awe when they behold it or stand near it. It is as if it draws the eye and the mind. Whatever it is, it is hard to not feel like you are looking at something more than just a rock. It is an experience I was glad that I did not have while I was alone. Like most defining moments of any trip, (or bad movies,) it is better if you are with people you can talk about it with.

I was with a great group of people and I was very thankful for their presence, not only at Uluru, but for the entirety of the trip. The group was comprised of myself, a Canadian, two Brits, two French, two Germans, a Swiss, two Chinese, a Taiwanese girl, and an Aussie girl, and our guide. It is amazing how different people can be, but how similar. I will not sit here and say that there was not some tension, including a heated debate about the virtues of American culture and its impact of our younger brother to the North, but for the most part we found a lot of common ground. We struggled, slept, and ate as one. We even all did the dishes together. I tried my hand at speaking French and German (with very little success). We shared drinking games and political debate, and by the end we were a small family. We kidded and joked with one another, and shared more than a bus. I find that I will miss them all in one way or another. As I travel I have met many people but the people I stood next too as we watched the sky grow dark around the great rock of Uluru are the people and faces that will stay with me. I wish them all the best in their travels and maybe one day we will meet again.

Heaven and Earth

Life in Coober Pedy

The protege of Charles Sturt was John McDouall Stuart. He is known as one of the most successful inland Australian explorer, and has many many things named after him, most notably the Stuart Highway that runs pretty much from south to north and cuts through the center of the country. He is a man that trekked across the country and helped to establish the first telegraph line that ran across the outback. During his expeditions he contracted scurvy, lost more than half his body weight, and often recorded lush and vibrant waterholes only to return a few years later to find nothing but desolation (as what usually happens during the dry Aussie seasons.) Yet despite all that he is is the only explorer to have never lost a man on any of his six expeditions. The real source of Stuart's success is rumored to be that he was a but of a drunk and because of his dependency on alcohol he literally pickled his organs and insides, which allowed him to be more suited to desert survival. Let that be a lesson to all, if you want to survive in Australia, you need to learn how to drink... its a lesson the locals have taken to heart.

As for my own adventures on our first night of travel we stayed in a small outback outpost known as Angorichina, which I am pretty sure is Aboriginal for "Gas Station." I joke, but there was not much in this small oasis of civilization. It was run by a husband and wife, and every two weeks they had to travel three hours, each way, to go shopping. After World War One Angorichina was given to the Australian Army as a rehab station for soldiers suffering from shell shock. It was where many soldiers went to try and get over the horrors of the European trenches and reintegrate into society. After a barbecue and some campfire talk, we spent the night in the bunk rooms where the poor unfortunate soldiers slept. Funny enough it never occurred to me that the barracks house where half-crazed soldiers lived (and died) might be haunted, but we found out later it was. I did not experience anything, but there were plenty of stories about backpackers and travelers being touched, heavy shadows following people through the hallways, ghostly figures, and other typical spiritual behavior. Our guide, Steve, refused to sleep inside and we found out the next day that he slept in the bus. As interesting as that may seem, it was not the last night we would spend among the spirits and supernatural of Australia.

A Man's Cave is his Castle

In fact, one of the only nights were we did not sleep among the undead was on our second night. We spent it at William Creek, which is part of a cattle station the size of Holland. This night we slept in sleeping bags under the stars... or at least we were supposed to sleep. I spent more than an hour just lying back and gazing at the amazing array of twinkling lights in the sky. Growing up in the shadow of New York City, the sky is often void of those celestial sparks of light, and even in most parts of populated America is it hard to come by a decent night sky. So finally I had found a sight I had been waiting my whole life to see, an endless field of stars. I am not joking when I say it was a sight that was on my bucket list, and more to the point it was as surprising as it was amazing. Lying back and watching the stars makes you feel simultaneously small and connected to the universe. It's like suddenly you are only a small speck on a small speck orbiting a small speck of light lost in a vast sea of little lights. However, you realize how alive the universe really is and all the wonders that exists in it. Every light I saw was thousands, if not millions of years old, but they all represented one thing, possibilities. The universe is bigger than we can comprehend and there is more out there than we have even begun to understand. I am not talking in terms of aliens, but in terms of everything: spirituality, God, or whatever. How can we ever think that we know everything there is to know. We have only the smallest fraction of understanding of it all. Anyway, I am digressing...

If you have ever seen the star field of the night sky in its full grandeur you may realize that stars are not just points of light, but clusters of light. A clear as my hand in front of my face, I could see the thick cloud of stars we have come to call the Milky Way as it cut its swath across the darkened sky. I finally understand how ancient man looked up and saw images such as Orion or the shapes of animals in the sky. It is not so much about connecting obscure dots, but it is similar to looking at clouds in the sky and letting your mind create shapes and familiar images out of them. I saw Orion and I mean  I actually saw what our ancestors saw. I saw the hunter. Another startling fact is that the sky is very much a living thing. I saw five or six very distinct shooting stars. All the time there is debris and other particles entering out atmosphere, and if you look at any section of the sky long enough without the nuisance of light pollution you will see them as they streak brilliantly across the sky. Moreover, the stars twist and move in the sky with the rotation of the Earth. I also got up in the morning before sunrise, and watched the sun come up over the distant desert.

Possibly haunted underground bunkhouse

During that time of the day, as the stars faded from sight with the growing redness of the horizon I was met with two more surprises. One, is that Mercury, Venus, and Saturn are aligned near each other, which is a phenom that doesn't happen very often (I mean like in hundreds of years.) Next as I watched the stars as they grew fainter I also was able to track one fast moving point of light as it made its way across the sky above me. It startled me at first, but I quickly realized that I was not watching a star pass slowly overhead, but a man-made satellite as it caught the light from the rising sun. I watched it till it lost the reflection of the sun and disappeared altogether from sight. The morning itself was filled with an inviting stillness. I was the only one awake and the creature of the night were starting to go to sleep as the creature of the day were just beginning to stir. I watched the sky grow redder until the first rays of the sun began to peak over the horizon. I guess I have never truly watched the sun rise or set before, because when put against a point of comparison (like the horizon) it is amazing how truly fast the sun travels across the sky. Within minutes of the first rays of light the sun was fully risen and the temperature around me almost immediately grew warmer. The stars were gone and my retinas were slightly burned, but I was content for the moment. Like the morning itself there was a stillness inside me.

Our third night, was spent in Coober Pedy, a mining town with almost 15% of its buildings being underground. It was a little like the Shire, but with more Australians. We slept in an underground bunkhouse, which was also haunted, but I will get to that. We spent our third and fourth day exploring the town and its underground wonders and we were also joined by nine more people, bringing our number up to 14 people.

The town of Coober Pedy is the Opal capital of the world and in case you were to ever forget it, the town is usually more than happy to remind you. Almost everywhere you look there are signs selling the overpriced gem material. (I mean I agree it is beautiful, but I'm not spending $180 on a pen.) We took a tour of an opal mine and a tour of an undergrounded house and the underground Catholic church. We also went out to the Breakaways, which millions of years ago was the shore of where the ocean used to meet Australia. Now it is a valley of canyons and beautiful desert mountains and peaks. It is also where such classic movies like Mad Max, Pitch Black, and Red Planet were filmed. (Supposedly, the Phantom Menace was also scheduled to be filmed there as well, but George Lucas nixed it at the last moment as the crew and actors couldn't put up with the fly population of Australia.) Again, as it is one of the rainiest years in one hundred years the valley was teaming with life and did not look very much like Mars. However we did see the Australian "Dog Fence," which is the largest fence ever constructed on Earth. It stretches from coast of South Australia near the Western Australia border all the way to Surfer's Paradise in Queensland. For anyone not up on their Australian geography, that is roughly 3,500 miles. (If you were to drive from New York to Los Angeles that would only be 2,778 miles.) It was built to try and keep the dingo population separate from the sheep population of the continent. it doesn't really work, as the fence is not very big and more often than not the dingoes can just jump over it if they are hungry enough.

Our night was spent in the underground bunkhouse with barely warm showers. As it was once an opal mine itself, there were miners who died there in the usual tragic ways that miners die, cave-ins, gas leaks, underage drinking, etc. So the bunkhouse was haunted, and Steve the tour guide slept in the bus again. I don't know how much of it I believe, but I will admit that I was awoken in the middle of the night by strange noises. At the time I just took them as the echoing noises of my fellow bunk mates, but afterwards when we were told of the stories, what I heard fell eerily in line with the stories. Apparently, the most common story is of people hearing whispered voices coming from the walls. I am not saying that's what I heard, but it certainly makes a person stop and think. After all, there are more things in Heaven and Earth than can be dreamt of in our philosophies. Poor Yorick...

Way Outback

The Great R... Green Centre

There has been a great and wide history of white men blundering their way through the Outback. And like all great men, most of them suffered and died in horrible ways. The outback or "The Red Centre" as they call it around here, is a place full of indescribable wonders, but also a myriad of dangers. Take for example the journeys of Charles Sturt. He was convinced that Australia must have an inland sea... because hey it can't all be desert out there... In 1829, Sturt set out on an expedition to find out where the western-flowing rivers of New South Wales flowed. Among the useful things Sturt brought with him was a disassembled whale boat. After dragging it halfway across the desert he did get to eventually use it to traverse the Murrumbidgee River which he traced to the Murray River (one of the main rivers in Australia.) However, when they reached the sea they found that the Murray River was an impassable maze of lagoons and inlets that was unusable for shipping. Then he was faced with the arduous task of rowing back up the Murray and Murrumbidgee Rivers. When the trip took too long and the boat bottomed out as the river began to evaporate around them, Sturt sent two men out to find supplies. They barely made it back in time to save the party. Unfortunately they were not in time to save Sturt's vision as he went blind for several months and had failing health problems for the rest of his life. Now any normal man would take abject blindness as a sign that you are on the wrong career path and retire from the expedition game, but not Chuckie. He was so obsessed with finding the mystical inland Australian sea that in 1844 he tried again. This time with 15 men, 200 sheep, and a boat. Long story short, boats don't work as well in the desert as in the ocean, He was stranded for months in the heat and eventually contracted scurvy. He did eventually make it back and retire to England, but he never found his fabled inland ocean.

Sturt was a pioneer in outback exploration and as I set out on my own adventure I found myself following in the footsteps of men like Sturt, in both direction and in horrible mishaps that could have cost me body parts. Without going into detail, let's say that I am the only person in the world who can get caught on a barbed-wire fence in the middle of the world's most desolate desert. Other dangers involved dehydration, heat exhaustion, poisonous snakes/spiders/etc, and suffocation by flies. Yes, I said flies. The further north you head the more their population grows. I have always known that the insects of Australia have been overly friendly, but there is nothing like being swarmed by small black insects who seem intent on getting intimate with you. Not only are they drawn to humans, but they seem particularly drawn to the insides of ears, noses, and even eyeballs. Thankfully, their population is controlled this time of the year, due to the coming winter, but I could only imagine what it would be like during the summer, as you walk around like a rotting zombie corpse with flies invading every orifice you can think of. Since I am an American, I did what we all do most naturally and I dumped the most powerful chemical spray on myself I could find, but apparently modern science has yet to make the spray powerful enough to repel the Australian Outback Fly. It helped, a little, but it certainly was the most annoying part of my trip.

The abandoned town of Farina... I think I used to play this
level in Call of Duty

Yet I tried not to let it bother me as much like those old time explorers I set out for adventure and the unknown. (Well sort of unknown... I mean I booked the trip and the itinerary was listed right there, but stop taking everything so literal. I am trying to set a mood...) I began, bleary eyed from Adelaide at 6:45 AM on Friday, regretting my decision to attend a pub crawl on the previous night. We set out as a party of five, including our tour guide and driver, Steve. (Let me take a moment to say a word on Steve, whose vocabulary was often limited to phrases such as "Brilliant!" "Jesus!" "Fantastic!" and "Any questions?!" He was a pretty weird guy, but he has a lot of good stories and I enjoyed the conversations I had with him about everything from Aboriginal culture to American history.) Our first destination for the day was the small town of Quorn, one of many small towns we would be traveling through over the never few days. By outback standards Quorn was actually pretty big as it had a population of roughly 1,000 people. The only reason for the existnce of the town was because it was where the original railroad stopped before World War One. (I mean it literally terminated,) and any cargo going north had to be unloaded and packed onto camels and walked through the outback.

During the First World War the railway was extended further north. It was named "The Ghan" in honor of all the Afghanistan people who used to work the camel trains. In Quorn, it was also where I learned that Steve is somewhat of a "foodie" and all our meals over the next few days would not only be of excellent quality, but have surprisingly tidy presentation. Other small towns we passed through included Hawker and Marree as we followed the old "Ghan" railroad north. I use the term "town" loosely, as they are really nothing more than an assortment of buildings amounting to a gas station, a few houses, and a pub. Marree has a population of 12. It is also one of the most historic unknown towns in the Outback. As it was the second place where the Ghan Railroad terminated heading north, until 1929, where the railroad was extended further north again, but some idiot used the wrong size gauge for the second track, so trains could not drive straight through. It was in Marree that the cargo had to be unloaded from one train and placed on the second so it could continue its journey. When the new railway was built in another part of the desert in the 50's the town was basically abandoned, but it still has the oldest Mosque in Australia.

Aboriginal cave paintings

Other sights of interest included the abandoned and desolate town of Farina. The Australian Government used to give land to farmers who were willing to work it and build infrastructure in the outback. The town of Farina was where some of those people lived. It took them fourteen years to realize that you could not farm the outback and in their frustration the people just picked up and left, leaving towns and homesteads abandoned.

We also saw Aboriginal cave paintings that told part of the Song Line story that helped the indigenous people learn about how the Earth was created and directed them to watering holes and warned of different type of dangers. It was like a highway of mythology.

We also saw a weird sculpture grounds placed in the middle of the desert. It was put there to draw attention to protests going on against the Australian Government and an American Company that had allowed nuclear materials to be sold to China and Pakistan which wound up being weaponized. (Sidenote: Because of this incident and subsequent testings, New Zealand banned all nuclear powered ships from entering their waters. This turned out to be a bad move as New Zealand was a major port of call of the US Navy's Pacific Fleet. Unfortunately most of our battleships, carriers, and submarines are nuclear powered. Also unfortunately, those ships helped make up the majority of trade done in New Zealand wool, and the industry completely collapsed in New Zealand. They switched to herding cattle instead of sheep and the price of lamp skyrocketed in Australia. So Pakistan gets the bomb and the Aussies can't get a descent lamb.)

We also saw natural wonders like Lake Eyre, which is a huge dry inland lake (which is why Sturt never found it), which is about 3,600 square miles in length. It is one of the lowest point in Australia (49 feet below seas level), and when all the continents were connected it was part of the sea. When the continent broke away from Africa several hundred-million years ago, it twisted and distorted all of Australia was raised up 80 meters (160 feet or so), and the sea became isolated into a huge inland lake. Eventually all the water evaporated because of the intense heat and the sun, leaving a dry river bed. Nowadays, it is only full every ten to fifteen years or more, as it catches the run-off of all major storm systems across the continent in a rainy year. This also gives the added wonder of giving the lake and its surrounding area its own weather system as the water evaporates and recycles. When the lake does fill it is first a fresh water lake and then a salt water lake, before evaporating again for another ten to fifteen years. The really interesting part about the lake is that the behavior of the animals around it baffles scientists. When the lake fills up, thousands of pelicans make the trip to the lake, carrying fish in their beaks. They then drop the fish into the newly formed lake and repopulate the lake with fresh water fish. When the lake turns to salt water, they do the same, traveling all the way to the ocean and back to get saltwater fish to repopulate the lake again. Scientists have no idea how they know to do this, or even how they know when the lake is going to fill. Another strange type of fish, exclusive to Lake Eyre, is a fish that can bury itself in the dry earth for up to four years and go into a suspended coma. When water again fills the middle and deepest parts of the lake it comes back to life, digs itself out, and lives in the water again (like God intended it to.) When the lake dries up, the fish goes back into the Earth. this type of fish has not been found anywhere else in the world.

Lake Eyre (Sturt's mythical inland sea)

Normally, Lake Eyre is dry and the Outback is a desolate and red sandy place, however, following the principles of Adam's Law (Anything that can go wrong will go wrong... for Adam), Australia has been experiencing the rainiest year it has ever had in nearly one-hundred years. Thus, not only is the lake filled, but the Great Red Centre needs to be renamed as the Great Green Centre, as there is more vegetation sprouting up that hair on the head of David Hassalhoff. As wondrous and majestic as that is, it can be a little disappointing. I came to see a landscape that resembled the planet Mars and I got one that more or less resembles Colorado in the summer. I have determined that a side-effect of Adam's Law is the prosperity of Australia, as not only is the landscape in full and vivid bloom, but the Australian dollar is now crushing the American dollar by a factor of 1.10 to 1.00.

Still, I cannot deny the wonder and beauty of the outback, be it Green or Red. I have stood in the middle of the harshest environment in the world and gazed out to the horizon. The desert is desolate and rejects all life, yet with the slightest touch of water it comes alive with surprising vegetation, color, and animal life. It is truly a place that seems unreal. Most of my time spent was spent in awe, trying to convince myself that I was not seeing some huge painted movie backdrop or special effect trick and that I was actually face to face with beauty on a scale I hardly imagined. The pictures cannot do it justice, nor can my paltry command of the English language. That is why I will end here for now, but there is much more to come.