Ayers Rock was my destination. This is not an easy destination to reach, especially by car. It takes dedication, time, and patience. Many people fly to this location and use tourist busses to get around in the park, snap a few photos, and leave. Not me. It is cliché, but I feel the journey is more important than the destination. What you see, hear, and feel along the way allows you to appreciate the destination when you do finally reach it. This two-week drive to Ayers Rock was one that elevates that cliché phrase to a level I never thought possible.
To add to the trip, one of my best friends and a fellow paratrooper had been diagnosed with cancer a few years back and I knew his time was coming. Our texts and calls were becoming more and more infrequent. Fortunately, I am very close with one of his sisters. When I don’t hear from him within a week I reach out to her to obtain a status. During one of the most desolate spots on earth I received a text from her to inform me of his passing.
You don’t understand isolation until you receive a text like that in spotty cell phone coverage. There was no way of replying or reaching out to console and provide support to his loved ones. This left a more than significant gap in my mind with no way of processing it since I was in the middle of the Outback. There is no one to rely on for comfort or a crutch to get you by. There is nothing. Just nothing. The only consolation I found was hours of alone time to think and process it while focusing on how fortunate I was to have such a close friend, all the while driving for hundreds of miles with, again…nothing. A few dead kangaroos on the side of the highway with an occasional eagle or dingo chomping on them was the only life I saw through this portion of the drive.
Upon arriving at Uluru I set up camp, which only entailed pulling into a parking spot as I was car camping. This has been a solid pro to car camping, just minimal to no preparation setting up or pulling down camp. After cooking a quick meal in my “campsite” I thought I had enough in me to drive around Ayers Rock for sunset.
Upon entering the park and seeing Ayers for the first time my eyes welled up. I am not sure if it was due to this area being such a spiritual place for the Aboriginals or that the drive to reach it was so emotional. It really doesn’t matter. To finally lay eyes on this magnificent rock glowing in the golden hour of sunset was a moment that will resonate with me forever. I was fully present in the moment and felt a sense of calmness.
After a semi-solid night’s sleep in the car, it was time to do a 3-hour hike around the rock and really get to experience this monument of the ancients up close and personal. Since I had been car camping in some warm climates I purchased some mesh window covers to allow the windows to remain down in the evening without having any bugs, flies, snakes, kangaroos, or dingos enter the vehicle while I was sleeping. This purchase turned out to be one of my better decisions along this drive. Uluru is plagued with flies. An unimaginable amount of them. Starting the hike early in the morning was key to avoid them and as the sun rose over this great rock having the car mesh as a makeshift fly screen for myself on the hike was a lifesaver.
Traveling alone through Australia is an experience that forced me to look at life from a unique perspective that many will never understand or even imagine existed. The month was filled daily with two constants: Change, and being challenged to adapt to the environments. By environments I mean both from the outside world and from the world within me. Both were deeply felt throughout my long journey to Ayers Rock.
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