Well, that was a fun experience, having the laptop out of commission for several weeks in February. If only a burnt finger, pasta sauce and my keyboard didn't meet that fateful evening...well, I might be further along in catching up.
But alas, we continue on!
Oh yeah, there will be some foul language used in this post, so if that offends you, well, I really don't know what to say.
The second portion of a three-pronged trip began like the first: a very early morning in Alice Springs, throwing our packs and suitcases into the minibus and sped off northbound on the Stuart Highway before the sun had a chance to do any damage. We said our goodbyes to Brad (the first guide) and hello to Scotty, the second. Scotty himself was quite a character, but we really wouldn't know exactly how much of one until we reached the town of Aileron, about an hour north of Alice Springs.
The stop over included a restroom break in a small convenience store/cafe. Who can tell me where the toilet is?
Thanks, blunt sign!
After relieving ourselves and stocking up on the usual junk food that helped contribute to my surplus of 15 or so pounds on this seven-week venture, Scotty took us outback (hahaha) and introduced us to a friend of his. We lined up along a chain-linked fence with Scotty shouting out "Hey, Fuck Off!"
At that moment, a large kangaroo looked up and proceeded to hop over to the group. Fuck Off, standing around 6 feet tall on his hind legs, arrived to greet us in his own special way: urinating near our feet. Some of the group put their fingers through the fence to try and pet him with Fuck Off attempting to reciprocate with his tongue. With Scotty answering questions from our group, the roo decided to answer as well by showing off "his goods".
As we made our way back to the bus, Fuck Off stood up on his legs and looked into Scotty's eyes with sadness. He told the roo to F off, the roo I'm sure said "F you." Maybe that's what the roo named Scotty.
No matter, because the dusty road beckoned us as we made our way to Karlu Karlu (Devil's Marbles), playing "International Speed Dating" along the way as well as trying our luck spotting UFOs in Australia's UFO capital. Large granite rocks, ranging from 50 cm to up to six meters in size, the marbles were originally one large formation that, over millions of years, formed vertical and horizontal cracks, allowing erosion to wear them down into the pages of geological history. The area is sacred to various Aboriginal cultures in the area, factoring into important stories of the Dreaming. One of the few that can be told to the public revolves around the Devil Man, Arrange, coming from the nearby hills, making a hair-string belt as he passed through. Upon dropping bits of hair, they formed into the marbles seen today.
According to Scotty, the name "Devil's Marbles" came from sheep mysteriously dying in the area while the herd and their European shepherds would rest. There were no signs of dingo attacks, so for a long time it was believed the area was cursed. It was finally discovered that a toxic plant being ingested in the reserve was responsible for the many sheep deaths.
Scotty had the bright idea of boulder climbing in the blazing sun. I only participated in the first "climb" as the second one was more precarious and involved a height factor I wasn't comfortable with. I walked around with an English gal as her boyfriend and the rest of the group climbed the marbles. As we made our way to the meeting point, we ran out of water only to be saved by two kind Frenchmen who had an ample supply on them. For the grand finale, the group made their way to a split boulder to take a photo op "climbing" within. My travel mate, Jennifer, and I tried our luck together, and though I didn't climb nearly as high as my ego led me to believe (stupid ego), the picture still recognized my effort in trying.
The remainder of the day was filled with pit stops, junk food and more tales of historical and cultural significance in Australia's serene desolation. The outback itself was teeming with life, more so than usual due to several seasons of wetter than average conditions. Intermixed with the reds and browns was a ground layer of minute green shrubs simply dancing to the wind and getting drunk with the sun. As evening began falling, the Stuart Highway formed a diving line between light and dark, the serenity of an Outback sunset to our left with the majesty of a small but piercing thunderstorm to our right, lightning erupting to the heavens and back. Very little rain fell, and emerging in the Tennant Creek area for the evening, we straddled the fine line, a man-made ribbon of asphalt that nature used as its great divide.
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