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Just 160 kilometres of shake, rattle and dust on a corrugated track separates us from one of the red centres most obscure government run campsites, the Chambers Pillar. We finally ventured out on a weekend when Alice Springs was dancing around a pole in May, in an almost pagan/hippy roman tradition.
Just when you think it is safe enough to crank the car up to
a hundred km per hour, a rough dip will play basketball with your off-roader or
a bend will slide you through a corner as if Brocky was still alive. After
about a hundred kilometres, we stopped to look at the Indigenous art expo at the
village of Titjikala, but found that in an act of sheer defiance to the rules of
capitalism the exhibition was closed on a public holiday weekend.
Around ten kilometres before arrival, a short but steep drive
takes you up a high ridge where the views are 360 degrees and worth stopping
for, especially that first glimpse of the Chambers Pillar. Down the hill two
gates are to be negotiated by the co-driver. At one of the gates there is a sign advising you to mount your pole with a red flag to the
front of your car ‘now’, to warn oncoming traffic that you are rounding the
crest. Yeah!!! Darn!!! Forgot to bring
my flagpole. I was tempted to sit on top of the car waving my red undies around,
but thought it too dusty up there. Two or three of those apexes were quite hair-raising.
For seconds, all you can see is the bonnet creating that out of control feeling.
One day someone is going to land their front wheels on someone else's bonnet.
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| The main event |
There is a lot going on at the chamber of pillars.
For sure the highlights are the columns that have stood here
as long as anyone can remember. Even though the name Chamber is of a
wealthy businessman who sponsored first time explorer John MacDouell Stuart out
here; the name itself evokes the feeling of a space with the pillar and surrounding rock features holding up the
roof of the world. The colour changes of these rocks at dawn and dusk are truly spectacular,
almost emotionally so.
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| This rock formation visible from our campsite - notice nature's window |
The Indigenous locals believe that a knob-tailed gecko warrior named Itirkawara rebelled against tribal law by sleeping around with woman forbidden to him. He came to these sand dunes, took a breather, and tragically transformed into a stone pillar. The woman he travelled with turned her head away and became what is now known as Castle Rock. The message is loud and clear for future generations. If you hadn't learned it by now here it is again; don’t mess with the wrong woman.
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| The knob tailed gecko courtesy of Milan Zygmunt |
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| Castle Rock from this angle looks a lot like a submarine |
Some of the oldest graffiti created by the earliest settlers
of the red centre is found in relatively sophisticated carvings on the rocks and surrounding the pillar. Willshire and W Bennett (mounted police), Frank Wallis (store keeper of Alice
Springs) and William and Mary Hayes who’s family still owns land around here; just to name a few dating back as far as 1884. Little did our forefathers know that this form
of historical acknowledgement of hard sweat and toil, set the precedence for an all-in eyesore of epic proportions. Who
would have thought that 'John 1996' thought it necessary to etch his name into
history, along with countless others. Never mind that by carving your name into
the soft rock, one accelerates the erosion process of this amazing ancient
column . The pillar is as the newspaper clipping in the gazebo said ‘being loved to death’ even at the risk of a
$2000 fine.
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| The John Ross party came through in 1870 whilst scouting the area for the overland telegraph line |
There are some great short walks around the rock formations
and the climb up the pillar is a must. There is a sunset and sunrise viewing
area and wildlife is abundant according to the information on the boards. We
spotted a large variety of birds including and a couple of bats. The
southern boobook owl, mulga snake and spinifex hopping mouse were a little shy.
The camping is sublime at La Chambre as French friends of
ours elegantly called it. Even a long weekend attracted a low number of
visitors. The bush campsites were spaced out with fire pits working overtime
during the fresh evenings. This is the Northern Territory in full flight - you
can pick your favourite star out of a galaxy as clear as picking sultanas out of
a cinnamon scroll.
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| No stars this night but just a spectacular sky |
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| The rocks at the foot of the pillar |
Two minutes down the road Julie spotted a skinny, lone dingo. The Dingo ran away from us but at a distance ran parallel to the slow driving car as Julie hung out, taking photos of the cantering native. But wouldn’t you know it? We found the answer to the Australian version of the question concerning bears, woods and stating the obvious. Does a dingo crap in the desert?
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| Picture courtesy of Julie from a moving vehicle |
Apparently!
Grey Bits
Check out this fabulous photographer at http://www.milanzygmunt.com/reptiles/nephrurus-levis-knob-tailed-gecko-gekon-knoflikovy/
1 comment:
Answer .. only when the Drop Bears fall close by !! Ahh .. I fear the Brahman was not a Bull ..
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