This Year's Winner of the Most Inane Travel Writing

Nightmare on Ayers Rock

By DEBORAH BLACKWELL -- Special to Canoe Travel

Isn't it funny how the tiny details we tend to overlook end up being what really helps us realize what is truly important... such as supplies.

For me, this was especially true while hiking up Uluru (Ayers Rock) in the outback of Australia.
Born and raised in Calgary, I have a true appreciation for the splendor we are so blessed to live near. I am an avid hiker who can be found spending every free moment exploring the granduer of our Rocky Mountains.

So when my brother and I started planning our trip to Australia, the number-one thing on my list to do was to adventure out into the bright red outback, find that gigantic rock and climb it! If I did nothing else down under but hike that rock I would come home a truly happy camper.

My mind was abuzz with excitment as I sat aboard that bus riding deeper and deeper into the outback, searching for that giant red rock. I was finally there. I was going to do it. I was going to conquer Ayers Rock. I could hardly sit still as my dream drew closer with every kilometre.

Then all in one moment there it was... Uluru. I can hardly even describe what it was like to be staring out the window at nothing -- no trees, no bushes, no hills, just red sand for as far as the eye could see -- and then, wham, all of a sudden this huge monster of a rock appears out of nowhere. Truly spectacular!

After trying to sleep with modest success in a swag under the stars, I awoke the morning of the big hike. This was it. This is what I had come to Australia to do and here was my shot.

Well the bus barely rolled to a stop and my brother and I were off like rockets. I swear, the door wasn't even open a centimetre when we squeezed out.

Nothing was going to stand in our way now that we were on the base of the Rock, only a few steps from accomplishing my dream.

This is where the story turns tragic, at least for me. I was just ten feet onto Ayers Rock when I stopped to take a picture of the sunrise far off in the distance. Its light was changing the rock into an amazing array of colors and I just had to capture the moment on film.

Oh yeah, something else that you must know about me, I am a photo-aholic. I take pictures of EVERYTHING. I never go anywhere without my camera and at least two spare rolls of film. I love taking pictures -- and I don't take just one, I take three or four of the same thing, just in case one doesn't turn out. For example, I took 34 rolls of film in ten days on a recent trip to the Maritimes... yep, it's an expensive habit.

Anyway, ten feet into my hike I tried to take my first picture, but the camera wouldn't do it. The sole cause for this huge disaster was that the battery in my trusty sidekick was DEAD. Wasn't that just perfect? A few steps into my dream and it died with the tired ol' battery in my camera.

I couldn't believe my luck. I had used the same camera every day over and over for eight weeks straight, going city to city and taking pictures of everything in sight without a single problem.

And then here I am doing the one thing I set out to do and I couldn't take any pictures. I couldn't capture this moment on film forever. I was crushed.

I was prepared enough to have ten rolls of film in my bag (just in case), but not prepared enough for my battery to die. I didn't have a spare, and we were in the middle of the outback with no Wal-Mart in sight.

My one chance at capturing this moment forever on film was going to be lost in the blink of an eye, or in this case, the push of a button.

This is where my story takes on a true hero status.

My brother, sensing the ultimate tragedy I was going to build this up to be, and also wanting to make sure I wouldn't cry the whole way up the Rock did the most unselfish thing anyone has ever done for me. He took his camera out of his pocket, flipped open the battery compartment and handed me the battery from his camera, thereby robbing him of capturing his own memories on film. He had entrusted me to capture the whole day through my eyes.

Of course, I snapped the battery out of his hand -- no argument here -- replaced my worn-out battery and off we were.

I am happy to report that I captured my moments on Ayers Rock on film... many of them, actually. My brother was very happy having someone else do all the work with the camera and he even seemed pleased with the results.

So this story ends with a true "happily ever after" and also with a moral attached to it... always carry a spare battery. I don't leave home without it!

Special note from Ikenney : GET OFF THE ROCK!!! DIDN'T YOU HEAR ITS OWNERS TELL YOU TO KEEP OFF?? IT AIN'T FOR CLIMBING!!