Rory's Monoliths and Opals, the ride turns East

06/30/2004

I received a larger response from my last update than ever before, if I didn't get back to you directly, thanks very much - I really appreciate it.

Nothing quite on the scale of flying choppers and planes has happened since, which is relief really, Elie suggested I should become a submarine captain (or similar) but that's rather unlikely I think, hey Elie ;-)

First some trip stats.

Total trip Distance:            23,000 km (approx) 

Distance in Australia:             3471 km (exact) 

Time Cycling:                          12 months (approx) 

Punctures in Oz:                     1 - yesterday outside a bike shop 

Accidents:                                  none serious 

Shags: (not a dance)                   yea, like I'd tell you that! 

Loonies met:                              Dozen's 

Lost Souls:                                 Hundreds 

Genuine kind people:                  Thousands

A note that I forgot to add in about Jack - the pilot from the last update, (the one with the slightest hint of an evil glint in his eye) which some parents may appreciate.

One time, Jack was transporting a couple of kids who wouldn't behave in the back seats of his aircraft. Jack, being Jack, climbed the aircraft to an altitude where the children, starved of oxygen, fell asleep. How many parents would like that kind of control?

On with the trip. (sorry if parts are a bit longwinded - this writing is also my main journal)

I got to Alice springs and found it to be a small city rather than just a watering hole, and all creature comforts were available (running water, toilets, showers even supermarkets) I decided to try and organize or get a lift to Uluru (Aires Rock) and avoid the 800km detour from the Stuart Highway. Two young American Girls had hired a car to do a one night, whistle stop tour of all the sites and with the only alternative being a 300 dollar cattle-truck-tour I agreed to meet them in a bar.

Meanwhile.

Chris (whom I hadn’t met yet) had left for the rock in his camper van. He made 15 km to the edge of town where an overwhelming urge overtook him that doing the trip alone was silly and that he could take other travellers with him.

I entered the bar and was soon invited to sit with the staff from the Hostel.

Chris was already chatting up Jo from the hostel. Jo introduced me to Chris. Chris told me about his aborted trip to the rock. Chris was funny.

The American Girls arrived. They were not funny, rather hyper, full of the 101 things they were going to see and do in the next 36 hours, leaving at 5am the next morning.

It wasn't a hard decision, but I did feel really bad at ditching the girls in favour of travelling with Chris, a decision I regretted even less when I met the 3rd guy they were travelling with who was polite but uncomplimentary about them as travelling companions.

Chris is the only person I have met who's car has actually knocked him out while driving. Apparently he was in a new small Citroen and really angry about something, so much so that he punched the steering wheel. This detonated the airbag pushing his fist into his jaw, briefly knocking him out. In the resulting warrantee claim (for a new airbag) Citroen offered him 3000 pounds damages and an agreement to not to take the matter further.

Thus it was that Chris, Andi (a broke German hitch-hiker) and myself found ourselves ready to head for the rock at 10am the next morning. Then disaster, we had done all our shopping, visited the welders to collect my welded together broken bike parts, done more shopping only to discover that the bottle stores didn't open until 2, and we simply wouldn't, shouldn't, couldn't leave on a 4 day road trip into the desert without beer. Andi was befuddled, strange for a German.

The next morning we got to the rock. Many people had told me that I wouldn’t believe the size of it until I’d seen it. The largest monolith on the planet, set red against a flat green desert, it is stunning from every angle.

We visited the tour shop, caught up with all the latest reasons of how the rock was sacred and why it shouldn't be climbed. I had known about this for some time and had asked a lot of locals about the history of this ruling. Overwhelmingly the story I got was that up until about 15 years ago the Aboriginals would happily escort people up the rock, not for fiscal gain but because they were proud of it. Also, that for millennia the main use the rock was put to was to spy where the animals were for hunting and for checking the horizon for the weather. Periodically there had been a ceremony on the rock but the whole sacredness of the rock, and that it shouldn't be climbed, is all relatively new. The aboriginal paintings around the base of the rock can't be carbon dated but an early white settler, who wrote a book about his efforts to create a tourist industry, claimed to have painted them himself.

I had heard enough, lot's of people die trying to climb up (mainly from heart attacks) and I managed to persuade my sceptical mind that the reason for all the anti climb propaganda is that it's just too dangerous.

The first problem was that the rock was closed due to forecast rain and no one was allowed up. The second problem was that I knew better, that it wasn't going to rain (and it didn't for 8 hours) and ran up anyway.

This is where it gets interesting. Periodically the rangers of the national parks are given training and today was the day that the chief ranger was down from Alice Springs, training the park rangers on what to do "when somebody climbs the rock"

Talk about timing.

I got down with a big smile on my face, feeling proud. I'd done a 3 hour walk in 35 mins and was just apologising to Chris and Andi for keeping them waiting when he said "you're in real trouble".

Ha ha I thought, then I saw the 3 rangers coming towards me.

Full arrest procedure followed, I was read my rights and interviewed on tape.

Once I had assured them that I was not of Aboriginal descent and that the figure they saw on the rock was probably me since I didn't see anybody else up there, they were really quite friendly and indicated that I probably wouldn't face the full four and a half thousand dollar fine because I had been so co-operative.

Now, If I had known they had just been called from their classroom and were training for just this scenario, I may have been able to call their bluff saying that I was part of their training and that they had done a very good job, and that they could now destroy the documents. Alas, I didn't know this so the arrest stood.

We watched the colour of the stunning rock slowly change as the sun set and went to bed ourselves.

The next morning at the petrol station with very sore legs (remember that scenario Eva?), a man said "are you the fella who climbed the rock"?

Half an hour later, walking round it's base a couple more strangers asked the same question, I had once again managed to get quite well known overnight with most people saying "good on ya mate" while a couple were distinctly angry about my behaviour.

That afternoon we visited the Olgas, an equally stunning outcrop of rocks, which are more culturally significant than Uluru to the aboriginals and all climbing is strictly forbidden.

On the 6km walk through we came across a large group of people on a guided tour, their smart tour guides dressed in Khaki uniforms and cowboy hats. I chatted to the guide leading the group.

"Did you hear about the guy who climbed the rock yesterday when it was closed"?

There was a look of shock on his face and he sucked in a large breath through his teeth.

"Oh no, he's in real trouble, they'll throw the book at him. It's like a 6 even 10 thousand dollar fine"

I went on up the hill wondering if maybe the park rangers, the rules and regulations booklet (which I had by now been kindly given by the rangers) and the small print on the notice board could all be wrong about the fine.

Five minutes later, bringing up the tail of the traipsing tourists was another, identical tour guide.

I repeated my self, word for word. "Did you hear about the guy who climbed the rock yesterday when it was closed"?

The tooth sucking response was identical but much louder.

"Oh no" he said "they'll do him for sure, it's a 10 - can even be 20 thousand dollar fine".

"Oh dear" I responded "I do hope he's alright" (trying to sound as much like C3PO as possible)

Chris, Andi and I moved on up the hill before bursting into fits of giggles at the blatant exaggeration of the "Adventure Tour" guides.

We hit the road for 350 km drive in the rain to Kings Canyon where, half an hour after we arrived at the resort, the water level haD risen and we were trapped for 2 days while only snorkel fed 4x4's could get across the 70cm deep flood. The Queue of caravans waiting to cross went for half a km and we were at the back with a whole day to wait for the water to recede and the canyon 7km away on the other side of the creek.

We decided to hitch. The first vehicle to come along was our friends on the Adventure tour bus, the driver of which was the first tour guide from the Olgas. They carried us across the water but wouldn't take us to the canyon which they were going to themselves, the guide didn't look toO pleased with me. Minutes later we had a lift anyway since many people were arriving at the flood and turning back. We had the whole day, so the 3 hour walk took us nearly 5 hours. Half way through a chap wandered up to me and said "D'know how much your fine is yet mate"? I simply couldn't escape it.

We returned to the Camper van, this time by wading through the water, with the caravaners asking in astonishment "did you make it"? (to the canyon).

On the way back to Alice Springs there was a small new Toyota just off the highway which had hit a small cow. The front of the car was completely smashed. The cow had flown 30m from the point of impact. It was a horrible sight, so we took some photo's.

Back in the hostel I was listening to the story of a couple of young ladies who had fallen out with the management at the rock resort and resorting to their own methods of retribution had unleashed mayhem with paint in their flat, insulting letters to managers, they even dug a 5 foot pit as a trap.

After completing their ransacking and realising that they had no means to escape, a kindly associate called Ian hired a car and agreed to drive them to Alice, overnight as he had to be back at work the next morning. It had been them who had hit the cow at 170kmh, having missed another one moments before.

I wouldn't normally have recounted this story except for the extraordinary coincidence that Kate, a couple of months earlier while on her way to the job at Uluru resort had been in the same type of car, also hired, at night with a different driver also called Ian when they had hit a cow and written the car off. We showed them the digital photo's taken in the daylight and they couldn't believe the damage.

A couple of days later I saw the result (and met the driver) of a Toyota land cruiser pickup, complete with bull bars, after it hit a bull at 80kmh (50mph). This too was totalled and I realised just how lucky those girls were that it was a small cow they hit. Incidentally - there are no speed limits in the northern territory, but if you drive too fast, you generally die before too long as kangaroos are not too bright and if you do hit one, it's often at windscreen height.

I have an unusual affinity for my back wheel. I had it made in Prague, out of Czech components. In 20,000 km the spokes have never needed adjusting, the zero maintenance bearings run as though they were brand new. I was so pleased with it I even made a point of mainly using the front brake so as not to wear out the rim on the back. But as all good things come to an end, so does a wheel.

Leaving a sandy camping spot about 2 days out of Alice, the back wheel had sunk into deep sand and way ahead was blocked by a tree. The bike and water weigh 55kg so being too heavy to just pick up I lifted the front and swivelled the whole bike on the back wheel. This I had done often, but not with the back wheel deep in sand. The result, a cracking noise as the flange holding the spokes cracked under the strain. The wheel was still useable with one spoke taking the strain of three so I transferred the weightiest items and water to the front and carried on.

1500km later the crack has not propagated (a testament to Czech bike components) so instead of buying a new wheel here - in Adelaide, I'm going to see if it will make Sydney (no mum, its not dangerous).

I blazed a trail for Coober Pedy (back brake disconnected, so as not to rub on the wobbly wheel). Met a French couple on their way to France (on bikes), a Swiss couple riding the Tandem of my dreams, they were going to "do N. America" when they had finished Oz and NZ and, at last, I saw the Bicycle Road train.

No fewer than 25 caravaners had told me about Christina. A bloke (55) who wears a dress and rides a bike with 3 trailers, 5.3 meters long and weighing all together 650kg. He could managed 5kph and 40km on a good day.

The Monty python "Bruce" sketch comes to mind and the bit about "NO POOFTERS" really does hold true in these 'ere parts. I really take my hat off to anybody brave enough to do such a thing. He certainly was a celebrity on the highway.

Coober Pedy is an opal mining town where most houses and hotels are underground to escape the searing heat of summer. Only private individuals can stake an opal claim so no corporations are involved in the mining. Opportunists from all over the world find their way there hoping to strike it rich resulting in an extremely multicultural society with many from eastern Europe.

Being short on time I chose to join the herd and do a half day tour of the town and mines which started strangely enough at the grave yard. Alcohol is probably the largest killer in the town and the head stones reflect this as one of them was actually a beer barrel. Another large cause of death are the mine shafts which are generally 10-15 metres deep and are literally just holes in the ground with no fences, and often hidden by scrub. I had seen the warning signs along the highway not to venture off the road. Had I realised the holes were quite so dangerous and common, (possibly hundreds of thousands throughout the area) I would have taken a lot more care camping in the bush at dusk.

Other quirks of the town were things like Dynamite on special at the supermarket and the golf course, which instead of "greens" had "blacks" (with a sign - keep off the grass). The only course in the world apparently, where if a lizard runs off with your ball (thinking its an egg) you are allowed a free shot. The most amazing thing about the Coober pedy golf course however is that it's the only golf course with a reciprocal agreement with St Andrews in Scotland (possibly helped by the gift of a couple of prize opals sent with the original "tongue in cheek" letter). No two polar opposites in golf course quality could be imagined, the agreement has just happened and they are waiting for their first guests from Scotland with bated breath.

Finally I have to recount the story of what happened when two New Zealand Motor bikers tried to poke fun at a Scandinavian cyclist (as they told it). Roger had just arrived on his motorbike in Cardrona in the NZ South island.

It was at the top of a long climb and the weather was very warm. A tall, bronzed, blond, lycra clad beautiful young woman came panting up the hill on her bike and leant it up against the wall. As she turned round it fell over. Having heaved it up again and propped it against the wall it fell over yet again.

Roger called over "looks like your bikes having trouble standing up"!

She turned on him, strode over and with a big grin on her face said:

"If you'd been between these legs as long as that bike has, you too would have trouble standing up"

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I just got the weather forcast - local hail and thunder, brief snow falls developing on higher ground. At least the severe wind warning is for a northerly. The CheIf ranger at Uluru NationAL Park, still hasn't decided how much to fine me.

From the road East - Love to all _ _ ______________________________________________________ _ _

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