Day 6 Kings Canyon

We pegged our aircraft down in the red dirt using the nifty lightweight tie-down kits that Andrew recommended. They don't look much but they work very well in loose soil like this and they eliminate the need to carry a heavy hammer. By the time we were ready to go our lift had failed to materialise and so a small delegation set out to walk the road in search of Mr Stanley. (Note to self: always buzz Stations low and loud). A caterpillar line of quad bikes showed up with a tweenie in each saddle but they only stopped to open the gate and then they were gone.  Eventually one of the chopper pilots arrived with a min-bus and we all crammed in. It was a short drive about 1500 m to 2 kms to the complex, which was overrun with the afore mentioned tweenies. They were swarming everywhere in search of electronic interfaces with the outside world. This was not the Central Australia I had come to see but it was good for a laugh.

We were billeted in little tents more or less permanently established and had communal cooking, cleaning and washing facilities. Our spot was on the north western corner and proved private enough. We grabbed a BBQ pack from the kiosk and cooked our own dinner over a few drinks. Zac's giraffe had a skinful and we had to leave him by the fire. It's the thing about giraffes: they seem completely placid when they are sober and sticking to vegetarian food but fill them full of lager and they want to have a piece of everyone in the bar. Anyways the kids enjoyed toasting marshmallows and the ceremonial rum around the flickering flame wasn't such a bad way to end the day either.

Morning meant an early rise for a cooked breakfast in the dining room across the campus. The two breakfast cooks were Japanese, so was one of the drovers, girl behind the counter was Chinese, another was French, the cook for the tweenies was German and there was a Canadian on the quad bikes -- in fact the most notable feature of Central Australia is how few Aussies there were. So it goes. Anyways one of the cooks was on his first day and he accidentally provided us with two cooked breakfasts each. He was pretty nervous and anxious to make a good impression but I told him not to worry: 'It's Australia mate ya can't f$#%* it up'. Our bus soon arrived with our new tour-guide Richard (we were all hoping he wasn't a Dick), who briefed us, threw us on the bus, and as Willie Nelson says: 'we were on the road again'.

Wasn't such a long drive to the canyon and the bus driver - who made Dawn French look like Twiggy - filled us in on the tourist history of the area in a low key sort of way.  On arrival we watered the horses one last time and received another briefing. Two options: climb the 500 steps to circuit the canyon from on high or stay low and wander along the bottom in the cool embrace of the jungle. Richard suggested the younger kids wouldn't be up to the climb and ought to be left behind. But we knew that the Green Lantern and Master T -- rock grabber and savant geologist -- were up for anything. The Green Lantern has already shown us all that if worse came to worse he could transform himself into Spiderman. So the boys were in. (Though of course after his big night we had to leave the Giraffe to sleep it off in the bus).

I remember Kings Canyon from 'Priscilla Queen of the Desert' when the guys declared themselves 'cocks on rocks in frocks' though as it turned out neither accoutrement proved any help in climbing all those bloody steps. Leastways one of them certainly wasn't. I didn't get to have a go at the frock. Anyways it is a nice climb if you can avoid interference from someone older and wider in your twelve o'clock. Momentum is everything but Richard helped out by pulling us up every 200 steps to rest the weary, water the perspiring and resuscitate the dead. If you haven't visited King's Canyon it is worth the effort. The canyon walk takes a few hours but it meanders through some wonderful rock-scapes and it has been the setting for a number of movies other than Priscilla. This is where Indiana Jones met the natives in one of his films and at times it did look more like Africa than the land Down Under. We were led along one side of the canyon through the rocks and past the white, Albert Namatitjerra gums stopping at regular places to look down into the abyss and back towards the carpark.

Richard gave us brief lectures on the flora, fauna and geology as well as the cultural associations of the place. He said the whole area was formed by a massive ancient orogeny. So I asked him if that meant that we were wandering in a giant erogenous zone. He thought about it for a while, shrugged his shoulders and said he didn't know: 'hey man I'm a naturalist not a geologist'. We descended via wooden stairs and platforms to a bridge across the canyon and then up again beyond the Garden of Eden to the escarpment on the other side. From there it was a leisurely traverse back down the eastern side of the canyon which forwarded spectacular views and numerous photo ops. Apparently the edge of the canyon sheers off and falls to the floor below about every 70 years or so and it is due again this year. Two intrepid candidates for the Darwin awards sat upon the very brink of the western edge trying to earn an entry in this year's edition. Alas it was to no avail. No one was taking the plunge today. Not that we heard of anyway. Richard yelled some abuse at them ('Get off the F$%#^ing edge of the F%$^#ing canyon you F%$#^ing wankers') and then gave it away as a waste of time.

After our vigorous exercise at the canyon our air conditioned bus took us to the resort for lunch where I ate someone's camel. It must have been a very good camel because it was very expensive and it took a long time for the cook to run him down. The waitress there was very beautiful. She was from Germany. The view of the ranges from the bus on the way back was good enough to postpone an afternoon nap and once back we decided there was just enough time to plan a birthday celebration for Trinity. We were in the middle of nowhere but Helen was determined to see that she had a birthday cake to celebrate. The German cook thought it mission impossible but Helen is a cook whisperer of rare distinction and has great skills of persuasion. So eventually he agreed to have a go. In the end he produced a pretty sensational chocolate mud cake and that was no mean feat on such short notice and with all those tweenies to look after. I decided it was time to forget about the war.

Anthony gave us all a thrill when he arranged a helicopter ride over the canyon for Trinity.  We all tramped off to the heli-pad to watch them depart in the R44 and the boys lined up to inspect the rubber band that winds it up.  The Green Lantern and Master T looked after the rest of us while they were gone and we passed the time watching a camel take one of the longest pees I have ever seen. (Are they sure it's water they store in those humps?) Maddy actually did most of the work. (Minding the people I mean; the camel was on its own - actually it was tied to 3 others but that's another story.) T&A arrived back in the rose glow of twilight and we pumped up the fire, fired up the Barbie and celebrated Trin's birthday with some liquid refreshment and that chocolate cake. Well done Helen; you are an absolute treasure.

It was our last night here and so we lingered by the fire until the wood ran out chatting to some first generation Vietnamese Australians from Melbourne. They were a nice family unit with the three adult children taking their refugee parents on the trip of a life time to thank them for all the sacrifices they had made bringing them to a new land. Nice to see the successful face of boat people. They were nice people and we were more than happy to share the fire with them. We were also joined for a short time by a young couple from South Korea. His english was broken and she had very little it seemed but it might have been the occasion. They found themselves at Kings Creek because the wife had rolled their hired Toyota Camry and they were lucky to be alive.  He said he just rang the hiring company in Alice Springs and said: 'SOOOWWWEEEE!" I asked him what he did for a living and he thought about it for a while and replied: 'I - am - a - venture - capitalist.' Stupid of me not to have guessed really.