Author: Mr A
Location: Yulara & Uluru National Park
Monday: Riding The Rock!
Catherine had heard that you could now cycle around the rock – one of the many changes since climbing it has been finally banned.
We lost no time after setting up camp to throw the bikes on the back of the car and head into Uluru National Park. It’s only 20km away by road, but we wanted to avoid the testosterone fuelled drivers who are often behind the wheel of a big four wheel drive for the first time after a rental from Alice. Combine those folk with the foreign tourists who have forgotten which side of the road we drive on here (as we encountered driving into the park just as one was driving the wrong way down the park check-in road!)…No…a few minutes loading the bikes was worth it.
We left for our ride from the Cultural Centre and followed our noses as there were no signs for a cycling path, but there was this rather large rock to head for.
We joined the pain path around the rock and checked the signage, it only showed walkers, but there were bike hire companies around and plenty of tyre marks, so off we went.
Riding a bike always brings a grin to our faces wherever we are, but to be riding along under this brilliant blue sky, dwarfed by this towering red rock…breathtaking. We just couldn’t stop ogling this magnificent scenery. Neither of us are in any way spiritual, but we both felt this to be the closest we could get, just sitting quietly looking up at this massive granite monolith towering over us.
Miss Tassie also enjoyed the awesomeness of the Red Centre on an explore of the dunes near where we camped. When was the last time you saw a Burmese cat in front to Uluru, eh?
Tuesday: Visiting Kata Tjuta
A 45km drive in the morning, minus the caravan, took us to Kata Tjuta, which European explorers renamed The Olgas. This area contains an unusual geological formation of a series of large domed granite rocks, which in this crystal clear desert air, looks so spectacular against the almost perennially deep blue sky.
The short walk we did here was one of the most enjoyable we have done from a scenic perspective for ages. It’s called the Valley of the Winds walk, and takes you up through the domes and in a 7km circuit.
(Below, a friendly Grey Shrike-Thrush which accompanied us on our walk)
We could easily have spent a few more days here, but we are now on a bit of deadline, given we have lost a couple of weeks from our itinerary. So soon it was time to pack up and move on.
Anyway, it was a long day in the saddle, but we pulled up finally at a place we had stopped at on the way north last year. It’s just an old road that loops off the Stuart Highway for about 5km, signposted ‘Churchill’s Head’.
No facilities, just a level bit of ground a view across the plains. We loved it last time, and we love it again. There seem to be so few places like this on the well trodden routes we have been following. For a start there are very few minor roads that lead off the main highway, so we are drawn to caravan parks or the crowded free camps often so close the highway that the road trains sound like they are coming right through the Zone! “Ah..the serenity”, to quote from one of our favourite movies “The Castle”.
If we were to walk out of the van due west we wouldn’t reach another tarmac road for 1,325km – on the west coast of Australia, south of Broome. Not one hint of civilisation, except the Alice to Darwin railway. Nothing else. What a country. How many places in the world still have that amount of emptiness?
Then after lunch we were through Tenant Creek, only stopping for the dump point, and by late afternoon arriving at our camp for the night in a small service centre for the surrounding aboriginal communities called Ti-Tree. Guess what sort of trees grow here?
After all the heat and dust of the past few days, this was just what the doctor ordered. We swam up the warm river about 20 metres and were soon away from the crowds and had a lagoon all to ourselves. Just bliss. This has to be a stop over if you’re heading this way.
We did a short walk along the river before returning to Bitter Springs for a dip in the serenity.
Top tips for visiting Bitter Springs (Stay at Bitter Springs Caravan and Camping):
Just one small part of the 40km square area is open to visitors, but it offers a fabulous window to some of Australia’s evolution. Harking back to times when this dry dusty area was instead rich rainforest peppered with spring-fed lakes and pools – now limestone beds packed full of fossilised bones.
The national park seems to be in cahoots with Adels Grove, with a lot of encouragement for visitors to do a paid trip with a tour guide. We tried to get on a tour but none were running, so we did a self-guided visit. There was very limited information provided on boards, and may fossils with no details beside them. You had to use a lot of imagination to understand what you’re looking at, and a lot of Googling later on when we finally got enough phone signal to connect to internet.
It was a slow old journey which led eventually to tarmac, and then another 200km to our destination for the night, Camooweal. There we did a massive clean, inside and out, to try and rid ourselves of some of the red dust we had accumulated over the past few days.
It is amazing how many caravans are on the road – it is not even school holidays any more, and everywhere is heaving. Stations like this are literally raking the money in. We park in rows in a paddock, each van having access to water, a shower and toilet block, and a country music singer around the campfire at night. All this for $20 a van – that’ll be around $1,500 dollars per night earned…not bad for a patch of dirt.
Before long we had backed the caravan into the workshop and Mr A was inflating tyres as Bushy did his work, welding the new brackets to the front right hand side of the van. He did a thorough check of all the other brackets, and added some extra weld where he felt needed the strength.
By the time we pulled out at about 10.30am we felt happy that all was securely in place and Bushy reassured us it should stay that way for the foreseeable future.
The air feels lest dusty up here, and it is so good to see the ocean again.
There’s a lovely looking Tavern right on the water front, with a surprisingly interesting menu. It has a large beer garden overlooking the water and sunset, and we have earmarked a couple of seats for tomorrow afternoon.
We returned to camp to watch the sunset over the wetlands, before making dinner with our fresh veg. We watched the whistling kids flying in for the fish scraps being shared by those lucky enough to catch something today. The birds swooped down and caught snacks tossed in the air – quite a sight.
Mr A had more funeral arrangements to make and accomodation to book in the UK…I dread to see what our mobile phone bill will be this month after all these calls! This is a beautiful change of scenery for us though, and we think we’ll enjoy our stay here.
Undara is Aboriginal for ‘long way’, and is the name given to Undara Volcanic National Park when it was established in 1993. It’s interesting they chose to give it an Aboriginal name, since there is no evidence of any Aboriginal habitation, visitation or use in the direct vicinity. Still, I’m pleased there some nod of acknowledgement to the traditional custodians of this land, who suffered great losses at the hands of the original settlers.
The sun soon came out and the dry landscape lit up with the coppery tones of the iron filled granite contrasting with the jet black basalt. It’s all quite different to the rich and green landscape of the past few weeks and we are really noticing the impact of the rain shadow cast by the Great Dividing Range along the coast. 
Before long, we were entering the first tube, clambering down piles of rubble left from a roof collapse. We were all too aware of the many tons of basalt over our heads, held together by little other than the compressive strength of the arch. Should the keystone break, then our travels would have ended right here.
Fortunately for us, today was not that day, and we lived to explore another tunnel, this one around 1.3km in length, winding its way along an old watercourse. Bats, moths, cockroaches and cane toads are among the known (and seen) residents of these tunnels, and the colours are fabulous.
Memories of my Uni Geography degree came back in troves, with images from text books flashing through my head, not revisited for more than 25 years! We both really enjoyed the visit – yes, it was pricey at nearly $60 a head for two hours, but we felt well educated at the end of it and further immersed in some of the geological history of Australia.
We decided to go for a stroll and what did we see? None other than a couple of handsome male cats on leads exploring. See folks – it’s not just us!
We continued our walk as the sun lowered in the sky, spotting birds and just enjoying the feeling of sun on our skin. As nostalgic as the rain and drizzle has made us feel, we really do appreciate the warmer weather!
Common Crow Butterflies, red winged parrots, whistling kites – there’s plenty of wildlife to be seen here, and topped our day off nicely.
Where are we on our Savannah Way journey? Just a short way along, but a world of difference from Cairns. Off to a new destination tomorrow and a whole lot more red dust!
The Savannah Way
If only the clouds had lifted, which they did when we had finished, it would have been great views across the range.
It was actually a great ride initially through a countryside of rolling hills, then we headed round a loop on some tarmac and back to base via a series of local mountain bike trails through the rainforest, ticking off just over 35km.
A curry was called for after all that exertion, so our fellow Zoner Ken drove us into Atherton and we we finished our stay here with a great feed. We have really enjoyed the tablelands, apart from the weather, but tomorrow its time to head back down to the coast.
The market was great too. Alongside the stalls of fresh-from-the-farm vegetables and herbs were bakers, jewellers, artists (including musicians, painters, woodworkers, ceramic workers and potters), massage therapists, plants of all varieties, flowers and even fertilised eggs, chicks and chickens for sale. It all felt very authentically country.
Again, we didn’t get too far before Tassie decided it was time to return to the Zone. She always amazes me with her courage – as a 14 year old predominantly indoor/garden cat, she had not really travelled much before last September, but now she’s been right across Australia. She always knows where the safe Zone is, and keeps her wits about her, even when being dive bombed by birds…they don’t seem to understand she’s a lover not a catcher!
There are plenty of birds here. We have spotted pale yellow robins, firetails, finches galore, and lovely purple and green fruit doves feeding on the mandarins on and below the tree beside where we are camped. The little black and white Willy Wagtail is the feisty one, always flying at Tassie and frightening her back indoors. I guess he’s met some hungrier cats in his lifetime.
Soon the cheese was calling, and off we went to the farm where Mr A tried some cheese and purchased a delicious (according to him) blue.
From here we drove a short way to another little national park – home to the Curtain Fig. This tree is a survivor in a small patch of remaining rainforest which was saved from the saw in the 1800s by the rocky surface, not ideal for grazing. 
It is protected by a raised boardwalk, and pretty magnificent.
Willie started to take us on a tour of his “backyard”, where his grandfather’s bones are buried and where he was birthed. He explained what they ate and drank, plucking plants and fruit for us to smell and feel, and talked about the seasonal migrations from the bush to the beach, at pains to point out they were not nomads but followed a set path of migration along the songlines.
The knowledge of flora and fauna these people have accumulated over 40,000 years and passed on through stories, music and art is just incredible. He had Catherine mix up some seeds in her hand that are used to put a protective coating over a wound, while he had another lady rubbing together some leaves from the soap bush creating a cleaning compound that was antiseptic.
We were led to a birthing cave and Willie explained the symbolism of some of the drawings, how they were painted and why. A big question the community is discussing is wether the drawings should be renewed, as they fade after a couple of thousand years. A couple of thousand! Incredible..these timeframes are mind boggling.
Catherine and I tried to take in as much as we could, but it was like walking into a library and having a teacher open a couple of books at random and read a few lines. We knew it was but a fleeting glance into a world we will never fully understand, but certainly appreciate and respect now even more what a trove of wisdom is there.
If you come this way, support these efforts to help us all better understand and respect aboriginal culture. Willie Gordon can be found at Cooktown Cultural Aboriginal Tours – the information centre knows where to find him or indeed others like him.
We took this as a good omen that we might see one of the rare and endangered Cassowary birds – at between 1.5 and 2 metres tall and up to 80kg, they would be hard to miss!
From here we continued north, calling next in at Dubuji Boardwalk and Myall Beach. The short walk was very informative, and as always full of incredible sculptural rainforest trees and vines.
We drove up as far as the 4WD commencement of the Bloomfield Track which leads up to Cooktown, before turning and calling in to more short walks at Cape Tribulation and then Noah Beach.
There’s so much to learn about the rainforest, and incredible that this has been around since the time of dinosaurs, many of the plants changing very little in that time.
Oh and the Cassowaries? Nowhere to be seen…
