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| Uluru |
David and I knew little about Uluru when we arrived. All we really knew was that Uluru became even more red at sunset and was sacred to the Aboriginal people in the area.
Camping in the national park is prohibited, so we stayed in a commercial park in Yulara. As we settled into our campsite next to Liz and Walter, a whistling kite flew overhead. I grabbed the camera and tried to photograph this amazing bird. My camera's auto focus had difficulty catching up with him as he circled around us. It felt much like I was shooting skeet, trying to aim and fire. Just as he flew directly over my head, however, everything literally clicked. I almost fell over backwards trying to center the hawk in my viewfinder. Thankfully David was behind me to keep me on my feet. I was pleased with the shot... I didn't even need to crop it!
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| Whistling Kite |
Within minutes after arriving at the campground, we were rummaging through luggage to find our bug suits. The black flies here were merciless. The flies don't bite. Instead, they look for moisture in this desert climate. They hovered around our eyes, nose, lips, and ears. Nearly everyone wore netting around their faces. We soon learned the "Aussie salute," a wave across the face to shoo the flies away.
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| Bug suits or nets were absolutely necessary around Uluru to ward off black flies. |
Around four that afternoon, we drove to the Uluru sunset parking lot and waited. Crowds of other folks were also there, each vying for the perfect spot to photograph the sunset radiating off the great rock. We were not disappointed, but the best was yet to come.
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| Our first sunset at Uluru |
The following morning, the four of us were in line at the park's gate at 6:30 to make Uluru's sunrise shoot. It was much less spectacular than the sunset, partly because the sun was too low in the sky this time of year to fully light our vantage point.
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| Sunrise on Uluru |
Over the next two days, we enjoyed an Aboriginal play and several other short programs put on by the park rangers in Yulara, including one on Aboriginal bush tucker (bush food) and men's tools.
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| Aboriginal tools were explained during a park ranger lecture |
Our last morning in the park, we drove to Kata Tjuta to photograph its sunrise. Kata Tjuta is the second sacred place in this national park and is a 45-minute drive from Uluru. Its name means "Many Heads" in the Pitjantjatjara Aboriginal language. Kata Tjuta is a series of rock formations, consisting of 36 sandstone domes and covering over 12 miles (20 kilometers) in length. The tallest peak, Mount Olga, is 3,507 feet (1,069 meters) tall.
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| Kata Tjuta at sunrise |
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| Mount Olga at sunrise |
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| Walter, Liz, David, and me on the Walpa Gorge hike |
Later that afternoon, we visited the Anangu Cultural Center in the park. It was inspiring. It was also the first time during our many months' journey here in Australia that we were able to learn specifics about the Aboriginal culture. The Anangu people belong to the oldest known culture in our world, dating back over 60,000 years.
We learned that Uluru is sacred because each crevice, fissure, and cave holds a special meaning to the Anangu. In their Tjukurpa (creation story), ancestral spirits roamed the earth, creating features in the landscape. The stories surrounding these features remain significant to the Anangu culture. While most of the stories are secret to only properly initiated tribe members, we learned enough to appreciate how the Uluru landscape intertwined with their laws, beliefs, and kinship, including how they were to respect and treat one another.
We also watched a moving video commemorating "Handback Day." On October 26, 1985, the Australian government handed back control of Uluru and Kata Tjuta to the Anangu people, including title deeds. Today the national park is run by the Anangu and leased back to the government.
While we had already learned about the huge controversy around climbing Uluru, the Cultural Centre provided further explanation. Because of Uluru's sacredness to their culture, the Anangu have fought for years to prevent visitors from climbing the great rock.
Most signs referred to the sacredness of this site to the Anangu culture, asking for respect. One of the signs that I found most poignant implores visitors to consider the reason for their climb:
"since the 1940s Uluru has been promoted as a place to climb. This act of conquering evokes strong emotions of pride, achievement and ownership. Challenge your perspective. Is it right to continue, knowing what we know today? Is this a place to conquer or a place to connect with? We invite you to open your hearts and minds to the power of this landscape and the mysterious Tjukurpa."
Warning signs are also posted in prominent places, pleading for people to recognize the dangers of climbing Uluru. There have been 37 recorded deaths, a multitude of serious injuries, and countless rescues. Uluru is steep. Its 348-meter-high (1,141-foot) ascent is the equivalent of climbing 95 flights of stairs. The climb is so steep that safety chains were installed in the 1960s to guide climbers. Additionally, there is no shade on Uluru, and it can be extremely windy at the top. Regulations are already in place to close the climb if the temperature is forecast to exceed 36C (96F) or the wind is 25 knots (45 mph) or greater.
Other posted signs begged climbers to pack out their rubbish if they do climb Uluru. Signs also warn that there are no bathroom facilities along the path.
Unfortunately, none of the signs have dissuaded some climbers. This, however, is about to change. On October 26, 2019, Uluru will be officially closed to climbing. The day commemorates the 34th anniversary of "Handback Day."
As a result of the impending closure, thousands of visitors are flocking to the park for their last chance to climb the great rock. The number of climbers has risen from 140 each day to 300-500. The level of disrespect has also increased. Recently a newspaper reported climbers are urinating, defecating, and leaving piles of rubbish on Uluru, including soiled nappies (diapers).
Harrowing rescues also continue. Just last month (May, 2019) a man had to be rescued after suffering a heart attack about 3/4ths up the safety chain. Rangers put their own lives at risk, delicately using ropes and pulleys to move the man's stretcher down the face of Uluru. The man was ultimately transported to Adelaide for life-saving surgery.
On our first full day's visit to the park, Uluru was closed to climbing because of wind. On our last evening, however, we witnessed dozens of people in lockstep, moving along the safety chain. My heart hurt for the Anangu people. Their question to each climber resounded in my mind: "Are you here to conquer or connect?" For most of us, October 26th can't come soon enough.
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| Climbers on Uluru |
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| Climbers in lockstep on Uluru |
Our final sunset at Uluru was magical. Liz and Walter decided to return to camp and left us after we had toured the visitor center together. As we wound our way back to the sunset parking lot, David spotted a pull off within full view of Uluru and just outside the no parking zone. Oh, how we wished Liz and Walter could have shared this moment with us!
The sun began to set, and Uluru became more and more red. Then an enormous full moon peeked over the top of this beautiful rock. It was a breathtaking moment and only added to our understanding of the significance of this extraordinary place. We now know why Uluru is called the "Red Heart of Australia."
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| Uluru under a full moon |
We are all visitors to this time, this place. We are just passing through. Our purpose here is to observe, to learn, to grow, to love... and then we return home. (Australian Aboriginal proverb)
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