Ayers Rock - Uluru - wasn't somehow the way I had imagined it. It was big sure, but it didn't tower over the landscape surrounding it, it just sat there like something sleeping. Curled up on the desert among the Spinifex and the dusky green clumps of grevillea and small shaggy desert oaks. Around its base taller twisted oak trees grew in its shady nooks and crannies.
The rock was red, the dirt was red, everything was red - except the vegetation.
"It changes colour," Gerry was saying enthusiastically, "During the day, all the time. Sunrise and sunset are the most spectacular changes; we'll see that this evening. And I've booked us on the bus for the sunrise viewing."
We stood at the base of the rock where the climb began. But at the start of the climb there were far too many plaques put up to commemorate people who had lost their lives trying to reach the top. Jeezus, I thought, looking at them.
"I think I'll give it a miss," I said to Gerry. My feelings only confirmed by looking up and not being keen on the slope and the thick chain the climbers were pulling themselves up with. It was a long steep climb and a hot day.
"But that's one of the highlights of this trip David, climbing the Rock. I mean it's probably the highlight," he said looking up with that awed gaze he always got at monuments. I could tell. We'd been to a lot of monuments, both natural and man made.
"Definitely," I said in my positive voice. No way was I killing myself climbing a big red rock whatever it was called.
"You're sure? I mean it's an experience. You'll miss it, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity," he wheedled, though he only looked at me briefly with his big soulful eyes, his mind already straining upwards as his legs were preparing to do.
I'd also miss one chance of dying high up I thought. "No. You go, you'll get there faster without me anyway," I said trying to sound as if it was nothing.
Gerry's gaze was already fixed back on the challenge and he took little persuading. He certainly wasn't going to miss out on reaching the top of Ayers Rock just because I was being unadventurous.
I watched Gerry stand for a moment at the base sizing the climb up, and then he was off, long strides high stepping him up that first steep bit to the chain. A scrawny looking European couple were right behind him, a huge camera bag bouncing on the guys skinny backside.
Gerry had some kind of weird natural affinity for wiry outdoor European couples. They often appeared at our dinner table where the three of them would regale each other with the gory details of month long jungle treks where the size of both the blisters and local insects seemed to predominate as topics of conversation. I had no doubt him and the couple climbing behind him would be firm friends by the time he returned to the hotel.
I got back onto the air-conditioned coach and enjoyed a cool if dull ride around the base of the rock. I was curious about what may have gone on at the closed off aboriginal men's sacred sites. Some were initiation sites, including one in the caves at the foot of the huge erect penis like slab of split rock clinging tightly to the side of the main body of Uluru - Ayers Rock. Unfortunately our guide was uncommunicative when I asked for details.
I wondered too how the aboriginals had got the big white figure drawn in the recess high up at the other end of the rock. But I wasn't really interested enough to press for information.
Back at the hotel it was still early and breakfast time for some of the tourists and I wandered out to the poolside and ordered a coffee and sat under the white sails drinking it. Some sundried and over browned local was regaling anyone who'd listen with stories of his days shooting Camels in the desert and I gazed about idly happy to do nothing for the day.
We'd climbed Kings Canyon the day before and wandered around Alice Springs the day before that, so I knew I didn't need any more exercise. Well not that kind. The other kind of exercise had been in short supply the last couple of weeks and I was starting to notice it. Definitely starting to notice it I realised, my attention suddenly latching onto a rather handsome guy sitting alone at a small table nearby.
Bloody climbing I thought; for a moment remembering the sight of Gerry's arse determinedly making its way up the path to the chain. And it was a moment before I refocused and found I had been staring at the stranger and that he was smiling right back at me. His smile gave me a nice jag in my arousal department. Then I looked away. It was nice to be noticed but I was faithful, well I didn't fuck outside marriage as Gerry put it. He didn't, I didn't, we were both just like that and we liked barebacking each other knowing it was safe. Which didn't mean there hadn't been an occasional something, but always short of the real thing.
Then the handsome stranger suddenly got up and came over to my table.
"Hi, I'm Max," he said in a nice American drawl, "So you aren't taking in any sights today?"
Up close he looked even better, and he stroked his shorts up high and smiled.
"No. No. And you?" I asked, obviously staring, quite aware that he was interested and had something pretty sizeable on offer.
The camel shooter was still droning on loudly about Camels being feral.
