Pine Creek

We left Katherine Gorge and headed for the thriving metropolis of Pine Creek. While most people either blink and miss Pine Creek, or stop for petrol because there hasn’t been any for a hundred or more kilometers, we had specifically planned to spend some quality time in Pine Creek. Why you ask? Well, to see the Hooded Parrot of course. If you think I’m kidding, you can in fact purchase post cards of the Hooded Parrot in the petrol station at Pine Creek. Hooded Parrots have put Pine Creek on the map. And, wonderfully, we saw the Hooded Parrots in all of their turquoise-green glory. They really were beautiful birds, and we were fortunate enough to be able to get them in the scope.

We also saw Cockatiels, a tree full of flying foxes (apparently they’re not bats, but they look like enormous owl-sized bats when they fly around at night), Australian Figbird, a couple having some kinky foreplay involving slapping in the front seat of their van, and the scenic Pine Creek sewage ponds. Why did we go to the sewage ponds you might also ask? Why, to see birds of course. At the sewage ponds, we saw Rajah Shelducks, Australasian Pratincole, Black-fronted Dotterels to name just a few.

We decided to celebrate our birding victory with a dinner at the only place in town, the local pub. We found out it was steak night, which sounded excellent. The woman asked us which cut of meat we wanted. Then, she piled them all on a plate, handed it to us, pointed to her right and said, “Grill’s over there.” Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything. I’ve certainly never had the opportunity to cook my own meal at a restaurant before, which is probably why I didn’t do such a great job cooking our steaks. They were good, but definitely on the very pink-red side. The problem was that I’ve never actually cooked a steak before, and so all I could think of was my Uncle Joe’s steak-cooking mantra: sip and flip. Essentially, you just leave the steak on its side long enough for you to take a sip of beer, and then you flip it. I generally like my steak on the rare side, so I thought this might be a good plan for me. Unfortunately, the steaks were a bit thicker than your average steak, so I ended up going back to the grill after a few bites of my steak in an effort to have my steak a little less rare.

Anyways, after our afternoon and morning in Pine Creek, I feel quite confident that I could write the guidebook for the town. I know the best places for exercise, wildlife-viewing, Aussie-style cooking classes, and adult entertainment. Maybe Lonely Planet will let me be the Pine Creek contributor to the next edition of their Australia guidebook…

Katherine Gorge

One of the strangest things for me is to meet someone you know from one part of your life in a completely different part of the world. Especially if you’ve never been to a place before, it’s a little odd to meet someone familiar there. But it’s also a bit comforting – even though you have no idea what the place is going to be like, at least you’ll recognize a face. In September we flew up to Darwin, in the Top End of Australia, to meet our friend Matt there. I knew he was going to be there waiting for us in the airport, but it was almost amazing to see him there, looking at home in his sandals and binocular tan. We had arranged to meet, but ‘See you in Darwin’ seemed sort of like saying “See you in Estonia.”

The first thing you notice when you get off the plane in Darwin is that it is hot. Even in the spring, it was typically hitting 35-40 C during the day (that’s about 95-104 F, for the metrically challenged). Matt had spent the last four weeks birding in Borneo, Malaysia, and northern Queensland and was finishing his trip off with a week in the Top End. We promptly left the airport and began our 3 hour journey south to Katharine Gorge. We stopped at the markets in Palmerston where we had our first taste of Thai Paw Paw salad. Spicy, but very delicious. From there, we drove directly to Nitmiluk National Park in Katherine Gorge, pitched our tent amongst the grazing wallabies, and went straight to sleep. Our plan for Katherine was to paddle up the gorge, spend the night, and then paddle back. Our ‘canoes’ turned out to be more like wide sea kayaks than canoes, which made for some cozy paddling, particularly since we had to fit large barrels (to keep our stuff dry) between our legs. Nevertheless, we were happy to be in our kayaks and not on the tour boats with the loud speakers, since the tour boats can only go to the second gorge.

Paddling up the gorge was excellent. We went by beaches with signs that said, “Danger: Crocodile Nesting Area”, but didn’t see any live crocodiles. Fortunately, these were the nesting sites of freshwater crocodiles (‘freshies’), which are generally non-aggressive unless you mess with their nest. We also saw several wonderful birds, including Rainbow Bee-eaters, a Chestnut-Quilled Rock Pigeon, Fairy Martins, and Pheasant Coucals.

The paddling was relatively easy, even when we were going upstream, but portaging the kayaks between the gorges is hard work, particularly because the kayaks weigh as much as a small elephant. I was certainly glad that it wasn’t my own personal kayak that I was dragging over the large, unstable rocks. Thankfully, you don’t have to portage between the first and second gorges, but some of the later portages were hard. Some even took 45 minutes or more! Ugh. Whatever thoughts we had of paddling up to further, more secluded campsites were quashed by a series of increasingly difficult and lengthy portages past the sixth gorge. But the scenery was worth it – particularly in the furthest gorge we visited, which was set deep between towering sandstone walls.

We camped in the fifth gorge, at a very lovely campsite called Smitt Rock. Sharing the gorge (but across the river) was a family with four rowdy teenage boys who really enjoyed jumping off the rocks into the gorge. We sort of expected the parents to suggest that they be a little bit quieter, but the parents were busy having romantic paddling trips by themselves. It was actually quite funny. The father, who was rather muscular, would sit astride the stern of the canoe (they actually had canoes) as if he were a gondolier, and paddle his mistress around to secluded spots in the gorge. She sat in the front (without a paddle, which meant the father had to work extra hard to keep the going in a straight direction), and they went of on secret escapades while their sons did cannonballs into the water. Although we would have preferred a quiet gorge to ourselves, the entertainment value was top-notch. In fact, the next morning, they were also paddling back down and out of the gorge. There was a bit of a breeze, and two of the boys thought that they should try to make a sail out of their sleeping bag and canoe paddle. Needless to say, they were most unsuccessful, but we had to bite our lips to keep from laughing too much when they came within earshot. Their conversation went something like this:
Boy 1: “What’s wrong with you, mate? It’s not that hard to make a sail.”
Boy 2: “Dude, it’s hard for me. I don’t know which end [of the sleeping bag] to use.”
Meanwhile, their canoe was heading sideways into the bank.

We meandered our way back down the gorge, and just before the end of our trip, we managed to see a freshwater crocodile. The view from our very low kayaks was great, and we managed to see it before it slipped under water to get away from the massive tour boat heading toward it.

Despite the difficult portaging and the bogan campers, we had a lovely time in Katherine, and were happy to have the cool water to help us adjust to the 35 degree C days in the Top End. Our only major issue was that I left an entire set of clothes in the bathroom at the campsite on the first night. I didn’t realize I had done so until we got back the next day, but they were already gone, and had not been returned to the lost property. It wasn’t a big deal, but I still couldn’t believe that I went into the bathroom to change clothing, and walked out without my clothes. Who does that? Me apparently, and not just once…

Unfortunately, the people at Nitmiluk were most unhelpful when I was trying to locate my clothing. So, while I can highly recommend paddling Katherine Gorge, I wouldn’t recommend that you leave anything in the restrooms, because you will have a hard time getting it back.

The birds and the ... monotremes

After spending some time with our birding friend Matt in Kakadu, we were inspired to start learning and noticing the birds near Adelaide and wherever else we traveled. Dave got me the Australian bird book for my birthday before we came, and so we had decided that we would bring our binoculars with us to Australia. While that may seem like a simple decision, our binoculars are pretty heavy, and we had pretty substantial baggage weight limitations. We realized we hadn’t been putting the book or our binoculars to much use thus far, and so decided it was time we start looking for birds. We started to take more notice of birds around Adelaide, beginning with our drive up through the Barossa Valley for a farewell dinner at my advisor’s house up near Kapunda. We saw some lovely little birds on this trip, including Musk Lorikeets and Zebra Finches (that’s pronounced zeb-rah, not zee-bra down here). These small positive identification victories were just the sort of encouragement we needed.

We had our first chance to do some legitimate birding on Kangaroo Island, right before leaving Adelaide. Like many islands, there are a number of endemic birds. Although we didn’t see the Glossy Black Cockatoos, we did manage to see Crescent Honeyeaters, Purple-gaped Honeyeaters, Pied and Sooty Oystercatchers, Silvereyes, Cape Barren Geese, and Little Penguins! We actually went on a tour to see the penguins, but it was a really excellent tour, and well-worth it. These penguins (the smallest penguin of all, hence the name) stay out at sea feeding all day. At night time, once their eggs have hatched and they have little chicks waiting in the nests, they return to feed their babies. Getting onto shore, however, is not easy and quite dangerous. Seals think little penguins make great dinners, and they are able to catch them when they get close to the surface as they come ashore. So, the penguins have to be careful and sneaky. Once they’re on shore, as long as they’re not being chased by a seal, the only thing they have to do is climb what must feel like Mt. Everest and feed their starving chicks. These penguins can only waddle, but they have to climb up steep, slippery rocks and cliffs in order to get to their nests. It takes them quite a while, and they seem to climb in spurts, resting regularly. However, they are amazingly cute to watch as they waddle up to a rock, and then hop up to the next spot.

They must have an incredibly strong desire to successfully pass on their genes, because the greeting they receive when they finally make it to the nest is not a friendly one. The chicks essentially mob the parents begging for food. It’s especially bad if there is only one parent, as the chicks really start to compete with each other for the food. All I can say is that if my kids attacked me after I had spent all day looking for food, risked being eaten by a seal, and then hiked up a serious mountain just to feed them, they would be learning to cook for themselves. In short, the penguin tour was excellent, and Dave and I stayed watching the penguins even after the guide left. In fact, we stayed until the flashlight battery started to die, and we could no longer see them in the dark. If you do get to Australia, and you want to see the Little Penguins, I can highly recommend the tour out of Penneshaw on Kangaroo Island. It does mean you have to get over to KI, but it’s a very informative, reasonably-priced tour run by the South Australian agency that does wildlife (I don’t actually know their name). It’s not an over-priced touristy gimmick, which I have a feeling some of the penguin tours might be.


After KI, our next birding adventure was Tasmania. Being relatively beginner-birders, Tassie was perfect because the possibilities are limited. If you see a small brownish bird with perhaps one noticeable characteristic, like a white line above and below the eye, you can identify it. Not because you got a really good look, but because there is only one possibility in Tassie. There are some pretty awesome birds there, including 12 endemics (of which we saw eight). The highlights were Green Rosellas, Yellow Wattlebirds, Tasmanian Native-hen (their call is really funny – it sounds like a squeaky bed…hee hee), the Scarlet and Flame Robins, and the Yellow-throated Honeyeater. We went on quite an adventure up a windy, narrow unsealed road at dusk looking for the Superb Lyrebird, but to no avail (the bird book describes them as shy and secretive—go figure).

However, we felt we more than made up for that by seeing two platypus, wombats, echidnas, wallabies, kangaroos, and pademelons (they look like fat hopping rats). In fact, the platypus might have been the highlight of the wildlife tour for me. We knew they were relatively difficult to see, mostly because they get scared off easily, and usually only come out at dawn and dusk during the summer months. We wanted to see one, but weren’t really too sure how we should go about it. We decided to stop at the Tamar Island wetlands (to look for birds), and saw that a platypus had been spotted there recently. We got to talking with the woman at the visitor centre, and she told us that we were unlikely to see one there, but that they were often spotted in La Trobe. Having a flexible plan, we decided that we would head to La Trobe that evening to try and see a platypus.

We drove into town looking for dinner, and saw a sign that said “The Trout and Platypus Experience”, with a fork and knife symbol next to it, indicating food was served there. We weren’t sure whether that meant they served trout and platypus, but we ended up following the signs there, in part because nothing else seemed open in La Trobe. We arrived at the building – the giant platypus sculpture outside the front made it relatively obvious (did you know that La Trobe is the platypus capitol of the world?). We headed in and ordered some dinner, which fortunately did not involve platypus. A couple came in soon after us, inquiring about where they should meet the guide for the platypus tour that evening. Well, one thing led to another, and we ended up joining the tour that evening, which was most excellent.


Similar to the Little Penguin tour in Penneshaw, this tour was very reasonably priced and was run by the local Landcare group. It was really an amazing story – some people in the group decided to clean up a section of the Mersey River, and create a lake (prime platypus habitat) out of what used to be a gravel pit. They did that 16 years ago, and within 12 months of them restoring the area, they had platypus arrive. Ever since, they’ve been running tours whenever people want to go (at an incredibly cheap cost of $10pp). In fact, I think there are perhaps one or two people who do the tours (can you imagine how many they must have done by now!). Incredibly, the guy who gave us the tour told us he had been unsuccessful in finding a platypus only three times in the last 15 years, one of which had been the previous evening.

Fortunately for us, Dave was paying attention, and he spotted bubbles across the lake. When the platypus come out, they’re foraging, which they do by going underwater, digging around in the rocks and vegetation, and coming back up for air before going down again. They slowly release bubbles when they’re underwater, which is a good way to find them. At first the platypus was out in the center of the lake, which made viewing a bit difficult. But, almost as if our tour guide had trained the platypus to do so, it came right over to the bank, and slowly made a circle around the lake. We were able to move a few steps forward every time she went under, and watched her as she made her way around.

Since I’m on the subject, I may as well talk about the only other monotreme, which we also saw in Tasmania: the echidna. These guys are sort of a cross between porcupines and ant eaters. Anyways, they look so funny because they have these really long noses (Dave calls them the original pinocchio). They dig for insects with their nose, so when you see them, they primarily have their faces shoved into the ground. Still, they are very cute, especially when they look up at you. And, apparently baby echidnas are sometimes called ‘puggles’. Hee hee.



Anyways, I know I just went on a complete monotreme detour there, but it sort of fit in with the wildlife viewing theme of the whole blog. Our final especially notable experience (except for the Satin Bowerbirds in the Blue Mountains near Sydney) was our trip to the Blackbutt Reserve near Newcastle. We went in search of koalas (so our friend Eleanor could see them), and were pleasantly surprised to find a wide sampling of Australian birds in the reserve. Now, we can’t officially count these birds on our life lists since we saw them in captivity, but I don’t really care because seeing them up close and in the open was absolutely amazing. In fact, I would encourage you to google an image of the Tawny Frogmouth. What a crazy bird! And we stood face to face with one – not more than two feet from it. We also got to see Gouldian Finches, which look like brightly colored Easter eggs, Turquoise Parrots, an Eclectus Parrot, Apostlebirds, King Parrots, and Emerald Doves, to name just a few.



Many of you might be wondering how we could have spent so much time looking through binoculars, but if you haven’t done it before, I highly recommend giving it a try. Birds in the wild are, well, wild.

Blogging hiatus

Oh dear, what can I say? My passport has a stamp that says, “Departed Australia, 28 November 2010”, and we haven’t posted a blog for weeks, even months. I am going to make a valiant effort to write some blogs about the major happenings of the last few months of our time here. But, I think Dave was right when he told me it was more important to experience it than to write about it.

Still, I want to share our adventures, and also to have them recorded so we can read about them again in the future. So, hopefully over the next few weeks, we’ll post every so often about our adventures in Australia. However, we’re in Thailand for the next two weeks, so we may just have to wait until we get back to the US…

Catching up... and another funny story

As some of you have probably noticed, we haven't been the most consistent bloggers. I think what happens is that we fall behind in posting, and then we feel like we have to catch up on everything that's happened before we can write more current posts. Then, we don't feel like we have enough time to write about everything that's already happened, and so we end up not writing posts.

Dave made a good point the other day that we don't just have to write about big events on our blog. We can also include more day-to-day topics, and that this might help us keep our blog a little more current. A good idea indeed. So, while we are working to catch up on our recent trips (and we have some exciting things to share from our trip to Darwin and Melbourne!), I thought I would share a little story for this weekend.

The department I am a part of at UniSA had a conference this weekend, and had booked out a hotel for the visitors. They had two last minute cancellations, but couldn't cancel the hotel rooms on such short notice. They sent an email around to the department, asking if anyone was interested in having the rooms for the night. I thought it sounded like a fun idea -- we could stay late in the city without thinking about catching the train home -- and so responded to see if we could get a room. As luck would have it, the rooms were still available.

We checked into our room, which was really quite nice, apart from the strange painting on the wall. We meant to take our camera, but forgot. It would have been worth it just to take a picture of this picture. I'll try to describe it, though it's hard to imagine it without actually seeing it. The painting was a picture of a the top 3/4 of a woman. It looked as though someone had taken a picture of a naked woman, and then painted over it. Her body was covered in a pattern of diagonal squares of different colors, sort of like you might imagine a jester wearing. But, you could see her belly button and the bottom of her breasts as well, making it unclear whether the colored squares were clothing or not. That part of the painting would have been tolerable, but her eyes were also painted with this very strange makeup. They looked sort of like the eyes in Japanese anime, except they were narrow, slanted, and sinister looking. As bad as our picture was, it was better than the one in Judy and Graham's room, even though theirs was much smaller. Their picture was just a girl's head, with lots of letters and numbers behind and to the side of her head. But, her eyes were very disturbed and angry. They stared right at you and seemed to be saying, "What are you doing in my room?" Spooky.

Anyways, we had decided to make a night of it and go out for dinner, so we left the angry-eyed jester woman and headed downtown. We decided on a sushi restaurant for dinner (what is it about raw fish that tastes so good?). We ordered "the boat," which had a combination of sushi and sashimi. There were a number of Japanese people in the restaurant, but interestingly, we noticed that none of them ordered the boat. I'd always assumed that eating sushi was a traditional thing, and what most Japanese people would eat. But, after our experience, I wonder if it's not usual to have an entire meal consisting of raw fish. That certainly makes sense. We agreed we should return and try some of the other traditional Japanese foods served there.

We stopped by the Central Market to pick up some desserts on the way home. Judy, another student in my office, had gotten the other room, and so we thought it would be fun to have her and her husband over for dessert in our room. I had done a little research before hand, and found out that the hotel had a 'heated jet pool' on the 5th floor, with views of the city. Excellent! We had packed our swim suits (or, bathers as they call them here), and were looking forward to a dip in the hot water before bed. After a lovely dessert with Judy and Graham, we got into our swimsuits, and donned the bathrobes (which were almost impossible to get off the hangers) and slippers (which were too small for Dave) provided by the hotel, and headed up for some warmth.

We arrived to the top floor, opened the door, and were thrilled to find that we had the pool to ourselves. Also, we were excited that the pool was outside, and that we had a view of the tall city buildings (not really an incredible view, but not bad, either). We were feeling pretty special indeed, right up until we stuck a foot into the 'heated' jet pool. We had been expecting a hot tub, but the temperature of this pool was probably about the temperature of a swimming pool at a retirement home. Too warm to swim in for most people, but not quite warm enough to stand around in for any length of time. And indeed, after about a minute, we were feeling pretty cool. We looked around for the jets, thinking that maybe we needed to switch these on to get the heat going. We finally found the switch and turned it on only to have even colder water shoot out at us. And, the jets were industrial strength, pushing us to the far side of the pool.

The pool was not warm enough for a hot tub and too small to swim. After turning on the jets, we decided that the only practical thing you could do in the pool would be to run or swim against the current while its strength held you in place. But, if you did that, you would surely want to wear a tight fitting swimsuit. Mine nearly came off in all of the turbulence.

After a minute or two of strong jets and cold water, we decided we'd had enough. We jumped out, and shivering, put our bathrobes and slippers on and dashed back inside. When we got back to the room, we got straight into the hot shower.

Disappointing though the pool may have been, it was honestly pretty hilarious. We are still not sure why the hotel has that pool. It was like someone almost had a good idea, but not all of the pieces came together. Like when you bake a cake with lots of good ingredients but forget to put in the baking soda--everything just flops. Oh well! We did get to enjoy a nice breakfast (with the rest of the Workshop participants who we'd never met) the next morning, and got a complimentary weekend paper. And, they had the most fun little hotel-sized bathroom conveniences, including a dental kit with the smallest tube of toothpaste I've ever seen, and a shaving kit, with a similarly-sized tube of shaving cream.

Not bad at all, though I must say we were happy to sleep in our own bed last night if only because we didn't have a strange woman staring down at us with her scary eyes! I know these little boutique hotels want to be different, but whoever thought pictures like that were a good idea must be a little odd indeed!

Funniest home videos

There have been a couple of things that have happened recently that make me laugh every time I think about them. It's really a shame that we didn't have a video camera with us during these recent comic happenings. But, hopefully the humor will come through in the re-telling!

The first thing that happened was on the way to our Frisbee game one Wednesday evening. Because it's just getting to be spring, until recently, our games always started well after dark. We were riding to the game on our bikes, and we had to go a different way than usual. This was because the fields were we play were also being used for parking for the Adelaide Show, a big festival akin to a State Fair, with contests for the best pies, jams, and pigs.

They had put up a bunch of flagging to convert part of the fields into parking. We ducked under one set of flagging and got on our bikes to ride the rest of the way to the Frisbee fields. Ahead, I noticed there were a number of big logs lying down on the ground. I turned to Dave and said, "Be careful, there are a bunch of logs here."

Dave, however, didn't see the logs that I was talking about (they were pretty well hidden in tall grass, and it was very dark out), and so did what he usually does when he first gets on his bike. He got out of the seat and stood up to get some good momentum going on his bike. About 3 peddle strokes later, Dave's bike ran smack into one of the logs hiding in the tall grass. I heard a low grunt, which sounded like air being expelled from his lungs, and then turned to watch as he did a slow motion flip over his handle bars and disappeared into the grass.

I was very concerned about Dave, and wanted to make sure he was OK. But, he was soon laughing, which I took as permission to laugh as well. It was so funny. The good thing is that he wasn't going to fast, and the tall grass cushioned his landing. That's the best when something really funny happens and no one gets hurt!

The second thing also involves Dave. We were having a lovely dinner with our friends the Dales at their home in Melbourne. Conversation was going along normally when I happened to glance across the table at Dave and noticed his wine glass and saw something in it. I was terribly confused because from my viewpoint, it looked sort of like the wispy strands of egg in egg drop soup. I couldn't help but lean in to get a better view. Suddenly, I realized that the egg-looking thing was in fact a piece of chicken breast. I looked down at the table and realized that Dave's wine glass was between the dish of chicken and his plate, and quickly guessed that he must have accidentally dropped a piece of his chicken in his wine glass as he was transporting it to his plate.

I know I shouldn't have laughed, but the realization of what had happened came so suddenly, that I couldn't help it. And, it would have been rude not to explain why I was laughing, so I unfortunately had to give away Dave, who had been successfully hiding the incident up until that point. Some fiance I am.

I realize it may not seem that nice to share these stories about Dave. But, I promise, these things make me love him even more. And, it's more fun if you can laugh at yourself (or your partner) anyways.

Thankfully, the third situation does not involve Dave, but instead a ticket validating machine. When you get on a train, tram or bus here, you're supposed to stick your ticket into a little dark blue box, that is about the size of a shoe box, but is turned on its side. The machine sucks in your ticket, makes a sound like a time clock when you punch in for work, and then returns your ticket for you to take with you.

We were sitting on the train one night, waiting to leave, when a guy got on and went to validate his ticket. The machine took his ticket, made the validation sound, but then didn't send the ticket back out. It's such an automatic process for people validating their tickets, that he had even started to walk away from the machine before he realized that his hand was empty. He came back to the machine. He crooked his head to look at the entry slot for the ticket, saw nothing, and so banged lightly on the top of the box. Nothing happened after a few seconds, so he went and sat down, not knowing what else to do.

A few minutes later, the red 'X' on the mysterious blue ticket box began to flash red and was accompanied by the repeated rejection sound (just imagine the sound you would hear on a quiz show if you incorrectly answered a question; or, if you've ever played Taboo, the sound that the dreadful buzzer makes). It was as though something had gone seriously wrong with the ticket machine, and it was sounding the alarm, loud and clear. Then, suddenly the noise stopped and the machine violently spit the ticket back out, sending it flying to the floor. Usually when you stick your ticket in, the machine just sends out about half of the ticket, and you have to pull it the rest of the way out. So, you can imagine our surprise when the ticket came flying out of the machine. The guy calmly got up, picked up his ticket, and went back to his seat. It was hilarious. I've always wondered what happens inside of those ticket validation boxes, and after the incident, I can now report that I have even less of an idea.

I hope you've enjoyed reading this blog as much as I've enjoyed writing it. I just love it when things happen which make you laugh out loud. Hopefully there will be more such comical happenings to share soon, and please do feel free to share any that may have recently happened to you!

The MDB

I know I hardly talk about why I'm actually here in Australia, but I think that's generally because I think about it most of the day, and want to write about other things on the blog. However, I recently took a brief tour of the Murray-Darling Basin (MDB), which I thought was interesting enough to share on the blog.

As I mentioned a few blogs back, a new Fulbrighter and his wife recently arrived and are also based in Adelaide. He happens to be studying water policy as well, and was planning a scoping trip to get a feel for the MDB before he starts his research. The idea was to speak with people living and working in the MDB, and also to see some of the icon sites, which are internationally recognized wetlands within the MDB.

I met up with Dustin and Heather in Renmark, SA. Renmark is part of the Riverland, and is known as a citrus and grape producing area. I met them in the evening, and after a dinner at the local pub, we headed out to a cute little cabin at the Australian Landscape Trust's property outside of Renmark for the evening.

It happened to rain most of the night we were there. While this was certainly a good thing for agriculture, it wasn't really so good for driving on unsealed (unpaved) roads. The next morning, we thought we would travel to Wentworth via the backway, which (despite being referred to as a main road in the atlas) is entirely unsealed. We wanted to go to Wentworth because this is where the Darling joins the Murray River. Also, the backway would allow us to see some of the wetlands along the river.

If you've ever done any driving in Australia's Outback, or on any of Australia's unsealed roads, then you would probably know that these roads are generally different than dirt roads in the US. The driving is generally not as easy, and they also tend to be more remote. They can also be difficult to drive on without 4-wheel drive, particularly when they are wet.

We started the drive in South Australia (SA), where the driving was reasonably good, apart from a few big potholes in the middle of the road, which were filled with water, and so difficult to see. However, once we crossed the border and entered New South Wales (NSW), the driving conditions changed drastically. The road actually said that it was closed when wet, and for good reason. It was essentially like driving in thick slush, and the car was unnervingly swerving back and forth. Further ahead, we saw dark clouds which suggested conditions were likely to worsen. So, we decided that we should turn around. Even though it would be a considerable amount of back tracking, we thought that sounded better than getting stranded in a remote part of NSW.

Our decision was the right decision to make. We soon returned to SA and better driving conditions. In fact, they were perhaps too good in comparison to the NSW roads, requiring very little concentration. Unfortunately, on the way back, one of those large potholes I mentioned crept up out of nowhere, and we flew through it at an alarmingly fast speed. The bump startled all of us, and we quickly made sure everyone in the car was OK, which thankfully, we were. Our next thought turned to the car. I thought I heard something stuck in the wheel well, but the sound soon stopped and everything else sounded mostly normal. So we kept driving. We made it back onto the bitumen (pavement) and stopped at the first petrol station to fill up. I got out of the car, and immediately thought something looked funny. I said to Dustin, "Are we missing something?" And he said, "Why yes, our bumper's gone." Just then, a man who pulled up in his ute (pick-up truck) said, "Hey, I saw your bumper back there on the road."

I can hardly write this without laughing. I know it's not really funny because it's never cheap or good to damage a hire (rental) car. But, the car looked so funny; really, the whole situation was just funny. In fact, it even gets better. We decided to drive to Mildura, where we had a scheduled meeting, and where there was a car rental office to exchange the car for one with a bumper. The meeting went extremely well, but then afterward, we thought it might be good to try and clean up the car a bit before turning it back in, since it had very obviously been driven on an unsealed road. The best option for cleaning the car was to take some paper towels from the bathroom, get them wet in the big puddle in the parking lot, and try to wipe the mud off the car. Of course, we weren't really wiping the mud off so much as we were wiping it around in circles on the car. After we'd wiped a little bit, Dustin would get in the car and try to drive fast through the puddle to create spray that would rinse the car. Very effective, as I'm sure you can imagine.

It was a hilarious sight to see, I know, because there were some airport construction workers who were watching us, and couldn't help but laugh. Finally, they asked us if we would like a bucket and some proper rags to clean the car. We readily accepted and did our best to remove the evidence of the car's encounter with the muddy, unsealed road. We were mildly successful, and decided that we might as well just go to the rental car office, which was just on the other side of the parking lot. Oh my.

Fortunately, things settled down noticeably after our first morning. We stayed in Mildura for the evening and had an excellent meeting and a nice dinner with two more individuals who worked for state government departments. The following day, we stopped at one of the icon wetland sites on the way to Deniliquin, a town in NSW where rice is grown. The drive remained interesting however, as we found ourselves on some less traveled roads. My favorite was one that had a strip of pavement down the middle that was only wide enough to accommodate one vehicle. There were dirt strips on either side, but the driving was really much smoother and faster on the pavement. I'm sure everyone who drives on the road, drives on the pavement. However, I'm still not sure about who is supposed to move over onto the dirt when two cars meet. Is it a game of chicken? Does the smaller one yield to the bigger one? Yikes! Let's just say that the two passengers were especially alert during this stage of the driving, our eyes straining to spot any oncoming traffic.

We also happened to cross the Loddon River on our way to Deni, as it's commonly referred to in true Aussie nick-naming spirit. The Loddon River was in flood stage after heavy rains had hit large parts of the MDB. We stopped to have a look at the river and ran into a mother and daughter who were out taking photos. The mother told us that her daughter was 17 and the she had never seen the river like this. They were just in awe, and so happy, as were most of the locals that we met in the area. Everyone was happy to receive rain after the ten year drought they've just been through.

For us, it was a bit strange (but still wonderful) to be here to study drought, and then to see the MDB in flood stage. It will surely be interesting to see what comes in the future, but at least for the moment, the river, the wetlands, the fish, the birds and the plants are all taking a big long drink while they can. For the residents, it's a welcome relief from last year's devastating bush fires. However, the rain is bringing with it some unwelcome consequences, including locust and rat plagues. Apparently, they like the water, too.

Anyways, I was really grateful for the opportunity to see the area that I've been reading about since I arrived, and to get a better sense for Australia's 'food bowl'. It was a short trip, but very instructive and even amusing at times. One thing I can say for sure is that Australians will take poor driving conditions on wet unsealed roads over drought any day. And the Americans just need to adapt and learn how to drive on them!

The Talent

I'm not sure I could ever get used to being called "The Talent." But, that's how the photography crew referred to me during my recent, brief career as a bike model for South Australia's Tourism Commission. SA wants to promote the southern Flinders area as a cycling destination, and apparently, the new thing in photography is to have people who actually do the activities you are photographing be your models, rather than hiring professional models. It's cheaper, and people who actually do these activities have all the gear that you would use to do these activities, unlike professional models. The photos supposedly end up looking more realistic to the people you're trying to attract, and normal people can be easier to work with than professional models (though I'm not so sure the photography crew thought that after spending the day with us!)

Whatever the case, that was the thinking behind the recent photo shoot in the southern Flinders. We got an email saying they were looking for cyclists for the photo shoot and we thought it would be a fun thing to do for a day. We couldn't make it to the 'try out', where they evaluated your clothes and physique (oh darn!), so we got demoted to the waiting list. For the day we were available, the only other woman who showed up at the tryout was 4'8" tall. They didn't think she would be a good match with Kev (6'2"), the guy who had come, so they asked me to come instead. That meant Dave couldn't go, but after all was said and done, I think he was happy to have avoided it!

Kev and I drove up to Jamestown on Monday afternoon, and met the photo crew for dinner that night. After dinner, they came around to each of our rooms to evaluate our clothing and select our outfits for the next day. It was really strange having 5 strangers come into my room and sort through my clothing -- not something I'd want to do on a regular basis! Also, it was a bit funny because the clothes they selected for certain activities, like kayaking, were clothes that I would never wear while doing those activities (so much for the concept of making it look more realistic by having people who actually do the activities be your models!)

Anyways, they told us that we should be ready to leave by 6:45am the next morning, and so we had an early night. The morning came, and Kev and I had loaded our bikes and were ready to roll by the designated time. Strangely, the crew was still eating breakfast at 6:45am. That should have been our first clue. Finally, about 30 minutes later, the team was finally ready to head off to Alligator Gorge for photos.

We spent the day at a number of scenic locations, posing in our biking and hiking gear for the photographer. Kev and I were matched up as partners, which was a bit weird since he's probably in his late 40s or early 50s. Usually we had on helmets or hats, so hopefully the age difference wasn't too noticeable! The photo shoots of us typically involved Kev laughing a lot, and saying how ridiculous he felt, and me trying to reassure him and tell him he was doing a good job.

I was so thankful that we were matched up as partners, because he was really easy-going and fun. The other 'talent' being photographed on the same day was a couple that looked like Ken and Barbie, except in their 50s. They had recently gotten into cycling and both had very nice new bikes. Amazingly, they had never been as far north in South Australia as the Flinders, even though one of them grew up in Adelaide! (This is a common trend amongst Australians--most of them have been to many other countries, but have seen very little of their own country. They generally seem to think that they can see Australia when they get old and become 'gray nomads'. It's sort of too bad because there are a lot of things to do in Australia that you wouldn't or couldn't do as a gray nomad. But, that's a subject for another blog...)

The photography crew (apart from the photographer) looked like they had never been outside before, which was a little odd, since we were taking photographs of outdoor activities. They wore tall boots, tight jeans and spent most of their time unsuccessfully trying to get reception on their iPhones and telling the 'talent' to suck in their guts. Way to build confidence, guys!

We did get to go to some beautiful spots, including Alligator Gorge and a winery near Melrose, SA. And, I had my makeup done for the first time ever! I was not exactly thrilled about having my makeup done because I was a mountain biker in the photos, and I would never put on makeup before going mountain biking. I suppose that's not saying much since I never wear makeup anywhere, but, it really seemed silly for a mountain biker to wear makeup. But, I did feel better about having my makeup done when I learned that Delta Goodrem's makeup artist was doing my makeup. Even if it was silly, at least I can now say that I've had my makeup done in the back of a car at a sheep station by Delta Goodrem's makeup artist! I have to admit that I actually didn't know who Delta Goodrem was (I've since looked her up on Wikipedia), but she's quite famous in Australia, and tours in the US. I guess we'll have to listen to some of her music...

We didn't end up eating lunch until about 4:30pm because we fell so far behind schedule. To be fair, it was the crew's first day of shooting, but I was shocked at the lack of time management skills (which began with the late start). I think it was a combination of the photographer getting lost in his work and losing track of time, and the crew paying more attention to their iPhones than the clock. Though I don't think I'd ever volunteer to be 'the talent' again, it was a fun experience, and I came out of it with a nice gift certificate to a local bike shop and a new riding friend (Kev). Not bad at all. And, maybe, I'll even make it into some of the tourism materials for SA cycling. I'll be sure to share them if I do!

The Nation's Capital

For those of you who don’t know (and I certainly didn’t), Canberra is the capital of Australia. We’ve heard a variety of explanations for why Canberra is where it is (apart from Alice Springs, I think it’s the only major Australian city that’s not along the coast). I think the main consensus is that Sydney and Melbourne couldn’t agree about which should be the capital, so they compromised and made a new city in between the two. The city is not that old (early 20th century), and is a planned city, which you definitely notice when you’re there. For one, the bike lanes are much better than in Adelaide, and there are lots of roundabouts! Also, each little suburb has its own set of shops to which most residents of the suburb can walk (which is actually fairly common in Australia, and a great idea I think!).

We had the chance to go to Canberra for my Fulbright orientation session. I know you’re probably wondering why I’m having an orientation session more than half way through my time here, but the reason is because I actually missed the one for my scholarship year. Most scholars arrive in August, and so they schedule the orientation session to coincide with that. However, I came in January, and so missed last year’s program. So, I got to come along for this year’s session, which was great, even though I already knew a lot of the information shared.

Canberra feels like a capitol -- the architect (Walter Burley Griffin) was an American, and he definitely drew some of his inspiration from Washington D.C. Lots of monuments, lots of museums, lots of streets with funny names in funny configurations, lots of young professionals drawn from other parts of the country to run the government and its attendant structures. However, Canberra blends into its surroundings much better than any capitol city I have ever been to, containing large tracts of open un-manicured space and melting into the hills that surround it (this may have something to do with the fact that Burley Griffin was a student of Frank Lloyd Wright). In fact, Canberra surrounds and is built on several hills, reminiscent of another hilly capitol city.

We had a great time at the orientation session, and especially enjoyed getting to meet the other Fulbrighters. We’re particularly excited because Dustin, one of the new scholars, is studying water policy and he and his wife, Heather, are going to be based in Adelaide. Very exciting! In fact, I had the chance to go hiking with Heather up Mt. Tennent in Canberra. It was a beautiful day and a lovely hike.

The highlight of our time in Canberra was definitely getting to spend time with Gabe, Dave’s friend from college who is living in Canberra and working for Geoscience Australia. Gabe showed us around Canberra, taking us to Namadgi National Park, the Old Bus Depot markets, the National Library, and Brodburger, a Canberra institution. Brodburger makes and sells gourmet hamburgers from what looks like a gypsy caravan (garish red paint and all) down by the lake. Interestingly, some other businesses are trying to oust Brodburger (or at least to make them move to another less visible location) because they claim that Brodburger is stealing their business, and doesn’t look very nice (read: not sanitized suburbian upper middle class-looking) near the lake. However, all the locals (Canberrans) love Brodburger, and have rallied to save the little trailer-cum-restaurant because they love the food and the convenience. We, too, thoroughly enjoyed our chicken and brie brodburgers, and even signed the petition to help keep Brodburger right where it is!

It was certainly an interesting time to be in Canberra. For those of you who aren’t following Australian politics closely, the country still does not have a Government two weeks after the election. Usually, the Fulbright orientation program includes an opportunity to go to Question Time with the Prime Minister. However, since there is no Prime Minister at the moment, we got to have a tour of the Parliament House (which was empty of politicians) and also went to the National Museum of Australia. There we went to an excellent exhibit on the Canning Stock Route, which was an old cattle route in Western Australia. It was not really very successful at all, but we learned about the rather sad history and interactions between Aboriginals and European Australians when the latter were trying to establish the route. Though it wasn’t a particularly pleasant topic, the exhibit is one of the best I’ve seen—highly interactive and engaging and definitely recommended if you happen to be in Canberra. (More pics here.)

Rogaining: Round Two

Perhaps some of you remember the blog about our first 24 hour Rogaine. If you don’t remember it, I certainly do! It’s hard to forget the struggle to keep walking hour after hour in the dark when even the ground seemed like an excellent place to curl up in a ball and take a nap. Ugh, that was a tough one.

Fortunately, our second experience with a 24 hour Rogaine was much different. In fact, I would go so far as to say it was pleasant. Our neighbor, Liz, joined us for the event since her normal partner had some foot issues. We were actually happy to have Liz, a more seasoned Rogainer, with us, because we felt sure that she would keep us to the schedule, and more importantly, keep us from deciding to add on huge extra loops to our plan. And, keep us to the schedule she did.

The Rogaine was in the Bendleby Ranges, which are apparently owned entirely by one land owner. We were talking later with people about what it would take to set up Rogaines in the US, and I think one of the more difficult parts would be finding land owners who are willing to let you use their land. While that’s still a challenge here in Australia, the amazing thing is that often you only need to get the permission of one land owner because people own so much land out in the bush. For instance, this family seemed to own the entire Bendleby Ranges, which seemed to me to be a fairly extensive stretch of hills.

Anyways, the Rogaine went very smoothly for us. The terrain was beautiful, we only got lost once (though it was perhaps at just about the worst time and in the worst place: right before dark and in the trees! Oops!) But, we recovered relatively quickly, and on the whole, did an excellent job of navigating. We even managed to find gummy worms at one control. Also, we made it back to the Hash House at a very reasonable hour (9:30 I think) for some dinner. We enjoyed the dahl that Ryan and Liz had made and frozen a few weeks ago (people volunteer to make up big pots of food ahead of time for the Hash House so that there is plenty of good, warm food for dinner). Dave and I were particularly happy to experience this since we essentially missed out on the Hash House altogether last time. We had a good sleep, and a very comfortable time the next morning when we went out to grab some more controls before the event ended at noon. In fact, I wasn’t really even sore the next day! We probably could have gone a little harder, but we had a great time doing it, felt good during and after, and got a much better sense for how to stay on track.

Other positives included a complete lack of orb spiders, a surprising change of weather overnight (bringing in a wave of much warmer weather), beautiful sun the first day, yummy snacks along the course, and excellent company. The only down side is that when you spend 24 hours of your weekend Rogaining, and another 6 or 7 hours to drive there and back, you suddenly find there are very few hours left in your weekend. But, on the other hand, at least you spend at least 24 hours of your weekend outside in the bush, and that's hard to beat.

A Beach Vacation in Adelaide

Really, it’s been a blog vacation this past month. Somehow, we still haven’t written about our second week in central Australia, nor anything that’s happened since. Just to get things moving, I think I’ll write about what’s happened since, and then come back later to post about the second week in central Australia. I want to write that one with Dave, and he’s just left this morning on another geology field trip to the Fleurieu Peninsula. It’s raining outside, however, and I am sitting on the couch, having a quiet morning – just perfect for blogging.

Immediately after we returned to Adelaide from central (as we started referring to it), we began house and pet-sitting for some friends who live in Henley Beach. They are from Canada, and were visiting friends and family back there for three weeks. They have one big, energetic black lab named Dawson, and one strange black cat named Jiggs. Living at their house felt like a vacation, and was just what we needed after the intense two weeks in central.

Jiggs would probably be a normal cat if he got to spend some time hunting and roaming outside. But, he is an inside cat, and so finds strange ways to spend his energy. The best game to play with Jiggs was to get in bed, and then move around some part of your body, like your foot, and watch Jiggs pounce on it. It was important to be in bed and protected by the covers, because Jiggs has some pretty sharp claws and can get aggressive. The other excellent game to play with Jiggs was to put Dawson’s leash on, and then walk around the house. Dawson would follow you, with his leash dragging behind. The cat follows behind, attacking the leash as it moves through the house. Who needs to pay for entertainment when you have pets?!

We took Dawson to the beach every single day, and he loved it. I’ve never seen a dog more focused on his ball – or really, on whatever you threw into the ocean for him to fetch. Other dogs would come and chase him, bark at him, try to steal his ball, but for Dawson, it was as if they didn’t exist. For Dawson, there is nothing else besides fetching his ball from the ocean. He never tires, and I mean never. (You can see how eager he is in these photos.) To slow him down and give ourselves a break from throwing the ball every 5 seconds, we sometimes left the ball at home and would throw small rocks into the water. Because the rocks sink, he had a much harder time finding them. But, he was so intent on finding them, that he would often spend several minutes looking around in the surf for the rock. And, amazingly, he sometimes brought back the rock that we had thrown. Other times, he would spend an especially long time digging around in the sand, making strange backward lunges, taking sand with him, and finally unearthing huge rocks. I have no idea how he found these, but it was so funny, and he was so happy. So were we.

Although it was winter, the beach was usually very peaceful, not very cold, and perfect for walks and runs. I love living in the hills, but part of me felt like we should take advantage of the beach while we’re here since I’ve never lived so close to the ocean before. These three weeks were perfect—we got to experience some beach living, getting a sense for the changing tides, spotting dolphins (some very close to shore), and recovering from central Australia.

After three weeks of ball throwing and beach walking, our friends returned home, and so did we. At least to our home away from home – our little granny flat up in the hills. It was actually wonderful to come back. We were happy to see Ryan and Liz again, and to have a cozy spot of our own. Ryan and Liz had us over for a curry dinner to celebrate our recent engagement and to catch up on all of our activities since we left back in mid-June. We got to share our DVD from the Great Barrier Reef, which we love and would be happy to watch with anyone who wants to see it when we’re back in the States.

Things at the granny flat are mostly the same, except for now three chooks are producing eggs, instead of just one. That’s good news for us, since it means we are occasionally the lucky recipients of fresh eggs! And, koalas still make regular visits to the backyard trees, though I recently realized how boring their lives must be. They pretty much sit in the same spot in a tree all day long (and sometimes even longer) eating eucalyptus leaves. Every once in awhile, they switch trees, and in the summer, come down to find water, but that’s about it. Perhaps things will get exciting soon, as I imagine mating season must be coming up. We’ve heard about the deep grunts the males make during mating season, but we haven’t heard these sounds yet. Hopefully that means mating season (and spring!) is on its way. We’ll see.

Ormiston Gorge

At this point this is a bit overdue, but here we continue the story of our adventures with Uni Adelaide geology students...

So after a week around Mt. Boothby spent mostly in the rain, we headed for Ormiston Gorge in the western MacDonnell Ranges. After making a stop in Alice Springs to get another week of food supplies and grab some lunch from Bar Doppio's (best cafe in Alice), we drove west, fervently hoping for dry weather. When we arrived at the camping area, we found ourselves setting up in the rain. Ah well.

The next morning, we awoke to find the rain gone. Fantastic -- dry field work is always better than being sopping wet. We immediately forgot about the rain. And it wasn't hard, for the geology at Ormiston is excellent. There are only four map units (including the basement), which allows the students to focus on the structure. The structure at Ormiston is textbook thin-skinned fold-thrust belt stuff -- folds, duplexes, thrust sheets. Except that there is a big thrust fault that puts basement on top of Neoproterozoic sedimentary rocks.



We spent our first day in the field getting the students acquainted with the stratigraphy and looking at the lovely structures. In order to do this, we had to wade across the Ormiston River. No problem. We headed across at about 11 AM and kept doing what we were doing. We didn't think much about it until we were on our way to cross back that we discovered that all of that water that had fallen had made its way downstream and the river had risen considerably. The place that the trail crosses the river was a rushing torrent--certainly not a place I was sending uni students. After some scouting around, we found a wide and relatively shallow (waist-high) part of the river and were able to cross. No problem.



However, the river was running across the road and had risen high enough that the buses could not get out of Ormiston Gorge and back to the campsite. As nightfall approached, we were stuck with eighty wet, hungry uni students and couldn't go anywhere. Solution? Send the intrepid Martin Hand across the river-blocked road and back to camp, where he picked up the moving truck (think a U-Haul) that we had used to ferry gear up from Adelaide. We took groups students across the water, loaded them into the back of the truck illegal-immigrant style, and drove them back to camp at 30 km per hour. We even had dinner at midnight when we finally got the last of the students safely back. All's well that ends well, right?



Happily, there was no more rain and the rest of the week at Ormiston Gorge was sunny and fine. The structural geology was really excellent, and we spent two days walking back and forth over Mt. Ormiston with students near the end of the week. A great way to end a great two weeks of field camp.

It never rains in central Australia…

Famous last words. Shortly after returning from diving and rainforesting up in northern Queensland, we were off on a new adventure: taking the third-year geology students at Uni Adelaide to central Australia for two weeks of mapping. Central Australia is known for its warm days, cold nights, and excellent Proterozoic (2500-542 Ma) rocks.


There are a few things about taking the geology students to central Australia. Number one, they haven’t done any mapping since they went to Pichi Richi as second-year students, which for them was over a year ago (actually, they map regolith in between there, but that doesn’t really count). Number two, most of the students (with a few notable exceptions) aren’t very well prepared for being in the out-of-doors. Number three, there are 80 or so of them. That complicates things.

To move eighty students to a location more than 1500 km from Adelaide requires two coaches. This is great, because the coaches each have two drivers and they don’t have to stop. But the coaches don’t really have room for the tents, food, cooking gear, and beer that the students bring. This means that we (the obliging staff) drive cargo vehicles. And we have to stop, so we leave a full day and a half before the coaches. Chelsea and I thought that while driving slowly for 1500 km might be a bit tiring, it might be better than trying to sleep on a coach with 40 noisy, sweaty students. So on Saturday morning our convoy of two cargo vans and a 16-foot moving truck (is that a four-meter moving truck here?) headed north for Alice Springs.


After the obligatory stop in Port Wakefield, the drive was really quite lovely. It’s been wetter this year than it has for the previous ten in the eastern half of Australia, and the landscape is unusually green. This also means that kangaroos can find water out in the bush rather than coming to the road (where moisture collects) and jumping in front of cars. Our rented cargo vehicles all lacked roo bars, so this was a good thing. And we never had to drive for too long, because the moving van could only go about 250 or 300 km on a tank of petrol, so we stopped frequently. Driving on the Stuart Highway, which goes from Port Augusta to Darwin, is a pretty simple affair. There is a station every 150-250 km, so in a normal car with a 500 km range, you stop at every other station for petrol (except in our case, where we stopped at nearly every station). The road is so straight that if you need to pass, you just wait until there are no cars, which is nearly all the time.

We stopped for the night in Coober Pedy, the world center of opal mining, before pressing on to Alice Springs the next day. Alice Springs had everything we needed: grocery stores to buy the food we needed to feed the 15 teaching staff for two weeks, wireless internet, and a fabulous café. It also had rain. Who thought I would be digging to the bottom of our bag for my rain pants in Alice Springs? The following morning, we food-shopped, bought ponchos for unprepared students, and met the buses to drive ~130 km north to Aileron, the next station up the Stuart Highway.


Like most of the stations along the highway, Aileron serves up petrol, food, beer, tourist souvenirs, and other necessities of life—in many ways it is the local market and meeting place. Aileron’s name has nothing to do with the flaps on an airplane; my guess is that it is a corruption of Alyuen, a local community of indigenous Anmatjere people. However, Aileron seems to have attempted to make amends for this by erecting a giant (>10m tall) statue of a male Anmatjere hunter on a hill behind the station. At some point, someone thought that some gender equity should be established, so there is a separate sculpture of an Anmatjere woman and child next to the station as well.


Most importantly for us, Aileron has a caravan park and is just a few kilometers from the mapping area. And when we arrived to set up camp, it was raining. We let the students stay in camp rather than mapping in the rain in jeans, but the staff headed off to look at some sapphrine-bearing rocks (sapphrine is a mineral considered indicative of ultra-high temperature metamorphism). The following day the rain had decreased, and by late morning we were out in the field with the students. It’s a little intimidating to be thrown into leading a group of students through rocks that you have never seen before and have next to no background in, but then you remember that you know more than they do about mapping and metamorphic rocks.


The rocks around Aileron are high-grade metamorphic rocks—granulites, often migmatitic—which means that they have experienced temperatures greater than 700-800°C and some parts of them have begun to melt. Those kinds of pressures and temperatures are found kilometers down in the crust, so the rocks at Aileron have really interesting metamorphic minerals that you don’t get to see at Earth’s surface very often—minerals like cordierite and sillimanite. Remarkably, original details of the rocks are still preserved despite this intense metamorphism—individual packages of migmatitic gneiss progress from very aluminous to barely aluminous, probably turbidites with decreasing clay toward the top (yes, they are somehow still nearly right-side-up). Chilled margins on mafic dikes are still clearly visible, although they have been metamorphosed as well. In a number of locations, shear zones (wet ones which often have kyanite growing in them and dry ones that have become mylonites) cut through these high-grade rocks. And to top it off, this area has experienced a fair number of metamorphic episodes (some people estimate as many as 15) between the deposition/formation of the original rocks and the exhumation of the metamorphosed rocks during the Devonian and Carboniferous (about 350 Ma). This makes it fun to work out the different episodes of deformation.

Kyanite growing in a hydrated shear zone

But enough geo-babble. After the rain went away, it turned suddenly to T-shirt weather and the mapping was great. The food we were cooking in the evening was also great—we made things like chicken laksa, pasta fagiole, and baked potatoes in the campfire. For dessert we had crepes and beer-enhanced damper. It was very satisfying to sit around the campfire with a contented stomach and talk with friends at the end of the day. Well, not quite the end of the day—Martin, the leader of the trip, usually did a brief lecture about local geology and mapping pointers in the evening. But soon after it was off to our tent for a long (and relatively warm) night of sleep before getting up early to set out breakfast and do it all over again.


Folded mylonite-grade shear zone

Before we knew it, the students were finishing up their maps and we packed the vans up to head to Alice Springs for a re-supply and then drive to Ormiston Gorge for our second week of mapping…

(More photos from the first week are posted here.)