Uluru and the Red Center

​It was hard to forget the first glimpse of Kata Tjuta from the airplane window. After all, the 3-hour northwest flight across the red deserts and white salt lakes had been leading up to this moment. The rounded rocks appeared like a mirage, an enormous city in the haze, as surreal as a Salvador Dali painting, the rock’s intricate texture at odds with the unassuming plains. Soon, the foot-shaped Uluru was visible too, its ridges like rounded toes. The singularity of Uluru contrasted with the “many heads” of Kata Tjuta (its meaning in the Anangu language). Both invited more exploration.

I flew directly from Melbourne to the Ayer’s Rock Airport, located in the remote resort town of Yulara. While many people fly into Alice Springs and do the 4.5-hour drive, I decided to keep my itinerary simple. I spent 6 nights in Yulara and only visited places within day trip range.
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The Ayer’s Rock Resort was really a collection of multiple hotels of varying styles. From the higher end Sails in the Desert to the rough-n-ready Outback Lodge, it had something for everyone. The hotels were arranged in a giant ring, just out of sight of each other. At the center of the ring was a swatch of desert with a hill that had good views of Uluru. The key locations, like the town center, were all connected with footpaths and a shuttle bus. It was an oasis in the middle of nowhere. I read online that the resort is mainly supplied by convoys that make the 1700km journey from Adelaide twice a week. 

If you hadn’t already guessed, I stayed at the Outback Lodge, the budget option. I was surprised that the 12-person hostel room was mostly unoccupied. One or two nights, I was the only person there. Stepping out of the dark concrete dorm into the bright red sands was incredible. It often took a moment to process where I was, but it made me smile every time.
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The communal kitchen was in an open-air structure, with screens to keep out the critters, but not very effectively. The crested pigeons and magpie-larks could easily duck underneath the fence, and hunt for scraps. One time I encountered a lizard that ran away in the most comical fashion, standing upright on its hind legs as it scuttled off. Another night there was a cute little gecko climbing the screen. The hostel didn’t provide dishes and utensils, but I was able to rent a crate with all the essentials. The crate was like the prize in a Survivor reward challenge. Worth playing for? You bet.

The first night, my only task was making dinner. I had brought some packaged noodles and curry paste from Melbourne, as I wasn’t sure if the grocery store was going to be well-stocked. I still needed a few fresh veggies, so I hiked across the desert to the town center. As it turned out, the Yulara IGA had a surprisingly good selection with all your favorite comfort foods, plus some discomfort foods. The freezer had an entire compartment of frozen kangaroo tails. Eek! I hiked back to the Outback Lodge, getting swarmed by flies. Back in the safety of the kitchen, I cooked an enormous quantity of panang curry with hokkien noodles in an electric roasting pan, as the stove wasn’t working.

During the grocery run, I noticed that my new bucket hat didn’t have a chin strap and was useless in the wind. I improvised a solution using a shoelace and a spring-loaded clasp from my binoculars case. The chin strap held up as I walked to the viewing hill to enjoy my first Uluru sunset.

​The first phase of my trip revolved around my 3-Day Pass for the Uluru Hop On/Off Bus. There were five daily buses that went to Uluru and back, and two options for seeing Kata Tjuta. At the company’s recommendation, I had pre-booked everything. They had two or three different bus sizes and appeared to be matching the capacity to the demand. To get the most out of my ticket, I did two outings a day.

The Uluru trip required a significant number of 4:00 or 5:00am wakeups, whether for catching a flight, a sunrise, or a tour bus. The first morning, I had signed up for a bus to Kata Tjuta for sunrise viewing and a 3-hour hike at the Valley of the Winds.

When the bus arrived, a gruff man with messy gray hair barked something unintelligible, which in hindsight was probably my last name, and probably a question. After sorting it out, I boarded the bus, and watched as he dealt with other passengers in a blunt, borderline rude manner. Then we were off, zooming along paved roads in total darkness.

His name, or nickname, was Snakebite. After the morning gruffness had worn off, and over the course of two drives to Kata Tjuta, I heard his fascinating story. He was working in Queensland and was tasked with removing an abandoned car. It had been occupied by mice. It also had an issue with the brakes. As he sat in the driver’s seat, a large brown snake under the passenger seat woke up from a food coma and bit him on the hand. He had military training and knew how to stay calm, so the ambulance techs thought his vitals looked fine at first. Then he quickly declined. Antivenom was administered at the local hospital, but the treatments weren’t as sophisticated at the time and didn’t work right away. He was airlifted to Brisbane and spent 4 days in a coma while the doctors debated the options. Given his low chances of survival, they took a risk and administered a second, multivalent antivenom. It worked, and Snakebite lived to tell the tale. However, the fangs had left behind harmful bacteria, and the next time he got a routine flu, his immune system had a bad reaction at the bite location. After someone realized the severity of the reaction, he was rushed to surgery and had more tissue removed.

​Snakebite was an excellent storyteller, using an iPad as a visual aid (yes, with gory pictures of the wound healing process). He speculated that the snake had used most of its venom on the mice, and he wouldn’t have survived the full dose. But he didn’t hold a grudge against snakes. In fact, he has two pet snakes! He showed a trick video of his woma python slithering through the sand towards his bare feet, making it look like a wild animal. The second python was up for adoption when a reptile zoo closed, unable to find a forever home due to its aggressive behavior. Snakebite couldn’t bear to see it killed, brought it home, and managed to tame it through persistence and several more bites. He says they now exchange neck massages and showed a video of it giving him a kiss on the cheek.

​Back to the journey. We arrived at the sunrise viewing platform and watched as the morning colors washed over the rounded skyline of Kata Tjuta. We could also see Uluru’s silhouette against the fiery gradient. The skies in the Northern Territory are so vast and filled with color.

The tour group, slightly intimidated by Snakebite’s first impression, were all very punctual at returning the van. We were the first bus to leave the lot. At the start of the Valley of the Winds trail, most of the group zoomed on ahead, but I stayed back to put on some sunscreen, and chatted with an Irish couple doing the same. We ended up completing the hike together. They were from Dublin and most of the way through a year-long world tour. The wife was a pharmacology professor who had done research in drug delivery, and had heard of one of my professors at Brown. They had good commentary on the places they had already visited in Southeast Asia.
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Kata Tjuta is made of a conglomerate rock, looking smooth from a distance but quite rough up close. The red color is only on the surface, formed through oxidation, while the actual rock is gray. Thin black stripes also ran up and down its faces, presumably from water flows. The interaction between the rock and the light was magical. In the morning, one side of the valley was still in the shade, but the reflected light caused even the shaded rock to glow. When we completed the loop a few hours later, it wasn’t obvious we’d come full circle as the same rocks looked totally different in the full sun.

The Valley of the Winds trail lived up to its name, with a blustery start that kept the flies at bay. Then it followed a quiet gorge, with rock pools and faint streams supporting a lush ecosystem. Climbing out the gorge, we stumbled on views looking out into a vast plain, a green paradise fenced in by rounded rock towers. With a few more animals, it could have been a scene from Africa.
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Unfortunately, I’m not able to share photos because the Valley of the Winds is considered sacred by the Anangu people. Only initiated Anangu men are told the specifics of its significance. Even though I'd really like to know more, respecting indigenous culture means accepting that the piranpa (white people) will be kept in the dark on this topic.

The second outing of the day was to the Uluru Cultural Center. It explained some of the Dreamtime stories, called the tjukurpa. These stories involve ancestral beings, usually associated with an animal, that leave physical marks on the landscape, known as tjukuritja. One of the most important tjukurpa stories related to Uluru involves Kuniya, the woma python lady, who summons great magic to avenge her son and defeat Liru, the poison snake man. The phases of the battle are reflected in missing chunks of the rock surface. Another tjukurpa story involves the Mala (rufous hare wallaby) men, who are attacked by a monster during a ritual. The Cultural Center also had a fascinating movie on traditional bush foods. It explained the locals’ deep knowledge of how to harvest plants, forage for witchetty grubs and honey ants, and roast lizards and kangaroos using earth ovens.

The hop-on bus made its final run of the day, and once collecting everyone from the park, headed to the sunset viewing area. Uluru is roughly the shape of a scalene triangle, with three sides of unequal length. The northern face is sacred, and photos aren’t allowed. The eastern face catches the morning sun and is the focus of the sunrise viewing area. The western face catches the afternoon sun, and that was the view we admired. I absolutely loved the sunsets. Uluru would glow ember red, all of its ridges perfectly delineated in shadow, then slowly fade to purple and black. Some days it even reddened and darkened multiple times as the sun was masked and unmasked by clouds.

The sunrise was also beautiful, in a different way. The eastern face had deeper ridges, so the sunlight was broken into fragments, each sliver of light alternating with a pocket of shadow. I realized these ridges were the “toes” of the foot I had seen from above.

​I joined a guided walk with an Anangu park ranger. He spoke just loud enough for the large crowd to hear and explained his ideas in a very roundabout way. Standing for long periods of time and struggling to hear while the flies attacked wasn’t the most pleasant time. But there were some great nuggets of wisdom. He added context around the places we stopped, including a rock art site, a cave used to prepare food, and a watering hole where animals were hunted.

​Afterwards, I peeled off and started the Uluru Base Walk on my own. The flies had been a simmering annoyance the past few days, but on the north side of the rock, they started an all-out war. I was shooing them constantly and could barely stop for a sip of water without getting swarmed. One fellow hiker quipped that I had learned the “Aussie salute.”

Up close, Uluru had a totally different texture than I was expecting. It was flaky, like a sheet of oxidized fish scales. Unlike the “plum pudding” conglomerate of Kata Tjuta, Uluru was striated, with vertical sheets of sedimentary rock. The most striking feature was its smoothness and round edges. Depending on the angle, the rock seemed more fluid than solid, like bunched fabric, or skin stretched over bony protuberances and superficial veins. As I walked around its perimeter, I also appreciated the variation in the weathering patterns. There were crater holes, pock marks, grooves that looked like hatchet blows, clean faces from rockslides, giant fissures, and incomprehensible tessellations that looked like honeycomb.

​One of these anomalies was man-made: the pathway used by climbers when scaling “Ayer’s Rock” was an option. I thought of Nola and Graham, the couple I met in the Grampians, who said they had climbed it during one of their visits. The path was treacherous, steep enough to require a network of poles and ropes and had several tourist fatalities. It was officially closed in 2019 out of respect for the cultural significance of the site. The trodden gray path will eventually oxidize and turn red again.

The second Uluru sunrise was even prettier than the first, as there were clouds that absorbed and reflected the changing colors. Afterwards I did a short hike called the Liru Walk, a peaceful connector trail between the Base Walk and the Cultural Center. I took some time to admire the amazing variety of desert plants. It’s called the Red Center, but it was surprisingly green! The area is considered semi-arid and had 6 sub-categories of desert habitat, each with a different mix of flora. Two common ones were “puti” which is dominated by mulga trees, and “pila” which has spinifex grass and desert oaks. During a period of time when the traditional owners were forced off the land, mismanagement and bushfires caused damage to the ecosystem. Introduced species like buffel grass have helped with soil cohesion but continue to pose problems for native species. There’s definitely more than meets the eye.

​Back at the resort, I participated in a Dot Painting workshop in the town square. It was led by a bubbly white lady and a quiet Anangu lady. We started at a sandbox, where this odd couple explained some of the recurring symbols like concentric circles, which indicate an important place but can have multiple meanings (i.e. water source, animal nest, etc.) Then we were let loose with the art supplies, and encouraged to create a painting inspired by our own stories and experiences. In parallel, the Anangu lady worked on a painting so we could see her expert technique.

Creating a sea of evenly sized dots was actually a bit harder than I expected. But I had fun trying to translate my own story into abstract symbols, while chatting with other people at the table. My design shows three important places – home with Mom and Dad, college where I learned from “elders,” and Southern California where I was “hunting” for work. They’re connected by travel lines, and surrounded by forests, oceans, and deserts. I gave this mini map of the USA its own Red Center.

​While in town, I finally decided to buy a fly net. It was a good investment for my remaining days!

​In the afternoon, I returned to Kata Tjuta for a second, shorter hike called Walpa Gorge. Also on the outing were a few families with young kids, as it was the end of Victoria’s school break and the beginning the NSW’s week off. The steep conglomerate canyon had a wonderful echo as the kids who had run ahead shouted back to their parents. There were even more unique plants that only grew around the rock pools.

After dark, I joined a stargazing tour that was a major highlight of the Uluru visit. The tour took place in the sunset viewing area, now free from the usual fleet of buses. First, the guide named the major constellations, using a powerful green laser as a pointer. She also explained the Aboriginal stories associated with these constellations. For example, a tribe in the north has a story about three brothers in a canoe who broke a cultural norm and were lifted into the sky. The brothers are the 3 stars that other cultures may know as Orion’s belt! She also explained how to use the Southern Cross to find south. This important constellation is only visible in the Southern Hemisphere and is featured on Australia’s flag.

Thanks to the clear desert skies, the Milky Way was also visible. The guide pointed out a shadow called the Dark Emu, which really does look like an emu. Its position also correlates with the emu nesting season. The tour included a professional long-exposure photo that made the Dark Emu even more visible! In parallel with the photos, the guides also had telescopes aimed at interesting stars. Betelgeuse was due for a supernova and already seemed to be flickering. The “jewel box” had a few multicolored stars in close proximity. It was a nice addition to the tour, but my eyes were a little dry this late in the day, so squinting into a telescope was less fruitful than just soaking in the night sky.
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One of the wildest parts of the experience was just watching the stars move over time. At the beginning of the tour, Scorpio was still partially hidden behind Uluru. By the time we took photos, it had fully risen! I’ve seen time lapse videos of stars moving, but seeing it with my own eyes was magical.

​The next day was a much-needed chance to recharge. It was nice to wake up after sunrise for the first time in five days. I visited a camel farm and learned about the role of camels in opening central Australia. The Outback conditions were too tough for horses, so camels and their cameleers were imported from Afghanistan, India, and Pakistan, collectively called the Afghans. With the help of camel labor, the railroads and telegraph lines were built. Afterwards, the camels were released into the wild and there is now a large feral population. The info center had lots of camel fun facts, and not-so fun facts. For example, since camels chew with a sideways motion, then can’t be bridled like horses, so the reins are instead attached to nose pegs. The farm offered camel riding tours that get good reviews, but I was content to watch the camel caravans return to the stables. Seeing their gangly legs fold up as their bodies lowered to the ground was good entertainment. At the leader's prompt, the line of camels popped right back up in quick succession. What awkward, magnificent creatures.

​The afternoon was all about art shopping. The Gallery of Central Australia (GOCA) was small but had stacks on stacks of canvases from local artists that were ethically commissioned and compensated. Though I also browsed the artwork being offered in the town square by the Anangu ladies, I ultimately bought a painting at the GOCA. I picked it for the design without knowing the backstory. I was pleasantly surprised when the cashier produced a written description of the story it’s based on. It’s called the Emu Dreaming and involves a squabble between the emu and the bush turkey over berries!

​For dinner, I visited the Outback Lodge’s DIY grilling station. I purchased the mixed meat combo from the counter, which included access to their pre-heated grills and salad bar. The combo included an emu kebab, a camel sausage, and a lamb chop. I can’t say that I would seek out these exotic meats again, but I had to try them. I asked the cashier for tips on the cooking times for the emu and camel, though ironically, I think it was also the first time I had grilled lamb.

I was joined at the table by a fellow American named Ayon, who I met the day before. He was the only other person in my dorm room. His alarm had been blasting non-stop at 5:00am that morning, and I had to walk all the way across the room to prod him awake. Ayon was an extroverted solo traveler, with plenty of countries under his belt, and we chatted over a few refreshing draft beers. My favorite beer was from an Aboriginal-owned brewery called Jarrah Boy. In the background, there was also free live music on a small stage. It was a good, laid-back evening.

On the last full day, I took a guided tour to King’s Canyon, about a 3 hour drive away. It was an early 4:35am pickup from a large charter bus. The company (AAT Kings) provided a professional service. We stopped for a buffet breakfast, much better than my usual oatmeal, and I chatted with a British couple. 

​The main draw was the 6km Rim Walk, best started early in the day. On hot days, they actually close the gates at 9:00am. The hike itself was led by a guide, which meant that the pace was prescribed, but we got information along the way. It started with a climb to the top of the canyon, which left much of group winded but got the hard part over with. The views were already looking good.

Though the Red Center is now flat, it was once an ancient mountain range. As the mountains eroded, the sediment began to accumulate in alluvial fans. Rising sea levels created an ocean that compacted these layers of sediment. More years passed, and the ocean disappeared. Then, a geological event called the Alice Springs Orogeny lifted the sedimentary rock, sometimes rotating it in the process. The exposed rock continued to erode, leaving the landscape we see today.
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This same sequence of events created Uluru, Kata Tjuta, and King’s Canyon with subtle differences. For Uluru, the layers of arkose sandstone rotated almost 90 degrees in the orogeny, creating its vertical ridges. For Kata Tjuta, its coarse conglomerate goes back to the gravelly composition of its original alluvial deposits. King’s Canyon was even more complex. In some areas, the action of shifting winds on ancient sand dunes created a tangle of layers called “cross bedding.” On top of the plateau, erosion created a cityscape of rounded domes. And the canyon itself started as a fracture line in the soft Mereenie sandstone that widened over 20 million years. The guide emphasized the importance of not getting too close to the edge, as this soft Mereenie sandstone has been known to break off in house-sized chunks. But the smooth faces left behind are stunning.

​The Rim Walk was a real treat, running alongside cross bedded canyons and fossilized ocean floors. The best part of the hike was descending into the canyon itself, to an area called the Garden of Eden. This hidden oasis was lined with ancient cyclad ferns and ghost gum trees. The trees’ smooth, white branches were striking against the red canyon walls, like a scene from an Albert Namatjira watercolor. We stopped for a break alongside a rock pool before climbing the network of staircases back to the top. During the final leg, we encountered a group of colorful spinifex pigeons, one of the few wildlife sightings.

​The rest of the day was less eventful, with a stop for lunch and a few bathroom breaks. The guide pointed out a large plateau along the Lasseter Highway, officially called Mt. Conner, but also known as “Fooluru” because people driving from Alice Springs often mistake it for the better-known rock. The fact there’s *another* giant rock in the middle of nowhere was initially mind boggling, but started to make sense after thinking about the geological processes at work.

​The next afternoon, I savored my last glimpse of Uluru from the window as the plane climbed to cruising altitude. A day earlier, I met a young Australian pilot at the Outback Lodge, who had flown himself and a friend from Sunshine Coast to Uluru. He said that the Red Center was one of the most scenic places he had ever flown. But it was just one of many ways to appreciate this special place. With its stunning rock formations, unique flora, Anangu culture, sunsets, sunrises, and night skies, the Red Center was just so different from everywhere else. There was so much richness in its deceptive simplicity.