After the long and monotonous drive up the Stuart Hwy from Port Augusta we had finally arrived at the famous Ayers Rock. It was pretty late in the afternoon so we found ourselves a camping spot then raced out to the Rock to grab that sunset shot. We were very excited about the day ahead and spent the rest of the night before bed checking the VTC flight plan and ERSA details.

After having talked about flying around it for the past two years the day had finally arrived we were actually going to fly around the Olgas and Ayers Rock. The conditions couldn’t have been more perfect, an 8kt southeast breeze and clear sky. We drove into the airport around 8.30am, introduced ourselves to the guys in airport operations and got the go ahead to fly. The procedure for flying here is pretty straight forward and clearly laid out in the ERSA. There is a set flight path which you must fly, for two reasons; to fit in with the popular tourist scenic flights and large RPT aircraft and to respect the wishes of the Aborigines the 'Arguna' people who own this area of land. The flight path is not too restrictive and allows you to fly fairly close to 'the Rock' and the 'Olgas'. We set up on the tarmac next to the helicopters fuelled up and taxied for runway 31.

After take-off we headed for the Olgas and climbed to 4000ft. The terrain was mostly flat apart from extensive lines of sand dunes running north-west, south-east and the ground was covered in clumps of Spinifex, an extremely prickly plant prolific on this region. Landing options were few but we had enough height to glide to the only bitumen road which joined 'Uluru' & 'Kata Tjuta' (Ayres Rock & The Olgas). The Helicopters flew a lower flight path than us and a lot quicker. We had to laugh on one occasion when listening to the tower broadcasting to a nearby helicopter that there was "a powered parachute type of thing" flying 'the route' as well. That must have been us they were talking about! From the keen interest they showed in our aircraft after we landed, it was obvious that they hadn’t seen many of our breed up this way.

From the air the Olgas looked like huge unwashed potatoes all clumped together very impressive. In between these potatoes are some beautiful gorges and there are two popular walks through these, which allow you to explore it from the ground called "Valley of the Winds", and the "Olga Gorge Walk".

 After circuiting the Olgas we climbed to 4500ft and were outbound for The Rock.

From where we were, on the west side of the Olgas you could clearly see that they line up perfectly with Ayers Rock and Mt.Conner way in the distance.

Although Ayres Rock 863m, is not as high as Mt.Olga 1069m , (the highest of the big potatoes) it looks massive on the vast flat horizon, perhaps because it stands alone.

 It is often referred to as having different moods like it is some big living creature. In fact, tourists flock like clockwork, every morning and evening to the sunrise/sunset viewing areas to capture this mammoth feature on flim as it wakes and sleeps. Then, after daybreak they climb it and walk its base (9.4km). We were lucky being able to fly it as well and I think you need to experience it from all these perspectives to get a real appreciation of it.

As we flew around Uluru we could see what looked like a colony of ants making their way up the Rock. The Anungu people who own this land refuse to climb Uluru because it is a sacred place of creation referred to as Tjurpukah.

The Aborigines, in conjunction with Parks & Wildlife, have set up a cultural centre nearby the Rock, which explains the Aboriginal version of the Rocks history and significance. There are signs everywhere that say DO NOT CLIMB but in our culture everyone knows that if there's a mountain it must be conquered! I suppose that's always been the cultural difference between Whiteman and the Aborigines. We flew back to Ayers Rock airfield via Yulara (Ayers Rock Resort) approx 10km from the Rock itself, and took one final look around us - We'd done it!! We’d achieved a long-term goal of ours and it was worth every minute.

We then gave an inbound call to the tower, waited for an Ansett plane to land and set up a left hand circuit for runway 13, flew low almost up to the taxi exit and touched down. What a memorable experience!

We spent two more days at Ayers Rock climbed it walked around it and visited the aboriginal cultural centre. From here we headed back out along the Lasseter Hwy and took the turn-off to Kings Canyon 255km away due northwest.

We arrived at Kings Creek Station exhausted from getting up before daybreak to see the sunrise on Ayers Rock but it was well worth it. Although Kings Creek Station was 35km before Kings Canyon where we wanted to fly, it was also the only serviceable airstrip in the area. We arrived at approx 4.30pm and the sunset at 6.15pm, the conditions were mellowing so there was no time to waste. After clearing it with the owner Ian, we set up the trike and took to the air once again.

We headed due northwest for Kings Canyon on the area frequency 126.7 as we were aware of the helicopter scenic flights, which operated over Kings Canyon.

The actual runway faced almost east-west 10-28 and was 650m long red clay surface. There was a lovely air-conditioned waiting lounge rare for this remote region (see photo).

As we flew toward the Canyon itself, we followed an amazing escarpment, which glowed burnt oranges and golden yellows in the afternoon sun. We reached a big cutting in the ridgeline just before an impressive bluff, which juts out into no-where. We knew we were now directly over Kings Canyon characterised by what looks like a giant piece of violet crumble honeycomb broken in two. Deep inside the Canyon was an oasis peppered with Cycads and palms which surrounded a big waterhole. This spot is known as "The Garden of Eden".

Climbing back out of the canyon the landscape changed again with layers of rock stacked one on top of another creating rock formations, which closely resemble beehives.

 There is a fantastic walk, which takes you through this strange landscape aptly named "The Lost City". As the sun began to sink toward the horizon and the shadows grew longer

We headed back to Kings Creek Station. Just when we thought the excitement was over, we spotted some feral camels. We'd been told earlier that at this time of the year the Bulls are really frisky and on the hunt for females. We thought we'd have a bit of fun mustering these big beasts and got them on the run. As we landed the air was still and smooth, ahead, the sun sank low and lit up the clouds with pinks and gold’s it was the best sunset we'd seen so far. We packed up the trike and camped at Kings Creek Station the night and in the morning ventured off to Kings Canyon to explore it on foot.

After journeying almost 300km of dirt road we arrived in Alice Springs. One of the first things we did was to check out the closest airfields we could take off from to explore the West Macdonnells from the air. Bond Springs was one option located 20km north and although it was a great strip its location meant that we would have to land to refuel in order to make the distance to all the places we wanted to fly. We rang around some of the local pilots and with their help managed to locate another airfield 49km due west of Alice Springs in the direction of our planned route. We drove out to meet the owners Shane & Karen Brumby, really lovely people and a great airstrip. The area had been cleared of trees and was 1,500m long with a red clay surface and in very good condition facing eastwest.

This was the ideal strip for us and because it was closer to where we wanted to fly and we could do an out and return trip without having to refuel. Our proposed trip was 200km out and return from Owen Springs down to Glen Helen Homestead and back.

It took 5 days before the cold southerlies backed off enough for us to fly but we had no trouble filling in this spare time with activities. Visiting the excellent flora & fauna Desert Park is a must, especially recommended is the Birds of Prey Show. This is a live show where well-trained Wedge-tails and a variety of other large raptors display their hunting skills. One display that stuck in our minds was a Buzzard, almost the size of a wedgie, that swooped down 4 metres from where we sat, picked up a stone in its beak and used it to break open an emus egg remarkable! Apparently it was not trained specifically to do this; rather, it is an innate talent and a hunting instinct. Certain props are set in place for the bird so that, when released it simply does what comes naturally. Due to the numbers of shows they put on (2 per day), rather than using real emus eggs, they cast them in two pieces out of plaster, plant a dead mouse inside, seal them back up and place them in the freezer for next weeks shows.

After having camped around wild camels and chased a few in the trike we thought we’d give camel riding down the Todd River a go. They are beautiful animals and very easy going plus good-natured, although they’ve got shocking breath and do a lot of grumbling. The cameleer that lead our party explained that, unlike horses which can be easily startled they have a much more easy going nature, for the purposes of conserving energy and therefore water in the harsh environments they live in. This causes the camels to be sometimes so relaxed that they can be difficult to move. I soon discovered why they are called "ships of the desert", after experiencing slight feelings of seasickness halfway through the 1.5 hr ride. I think it’s because you’re sitting up quite high coupled the slow and continuous rolling from side to side.

We departed Alice Springs early in the morning before sunrise and headed off to Owen Springs to set up the trike for an 8am departure in order to beat the mid morning winds. The day prior to this we'd tried to fly but by 9.30am the wind sprung up too strong so we decided to leave it another day and start much earlier. Once in the air we were relieved to find that the strong south-easterlies that had prevailed over the previous days had abated to a light easterly.

The west MacDonnell Ranges looked even more awesome from the air. They extended east-west twisting and snaking like a huge backbones as far as the eye could see giving the appearance of a serpents, one of the gorges is actually called Serpentine gorge. The main road runs parallel to two of the ranges and that’s all you are aware of from the ground but from an aerial perspective these ranges are composed of a number of parallel ridgelines as can be seen in the photo.

As we followed the ridgelines we passed over all the gorges we'd previously visited on the drive into Alice Springs. Each gorge is unique and completely different from the next, some have only dry creek beds at their base while others have deep permanent waterholes, but all have distinctive pearly quartz boulders and massive walls of colourful sandstone. Sheltered from the hot desert sun these natural oases become a haven for wild life.

If you're privileged can you catch a rare glimpse of the rock wallabies that watch your every move behind their camouflage. It must have been our lucky day when we visited Stanley Chasm, we saw two of these shy creatures feeding high above us on the tiny rock ledges of these steep cliffs. They are amazingly nimble for a creature that has short stumpy arms, roundish bodies and oversized back feet. They literally bounce from ledge to ledge on almost vertical rock walls metres above the ground. As we watched them disappear as quickly as they appeared into places where no one else dare go we contemplated whether or not they ever fall short of these jumps.

On the ground you can pick up many details such as this, but it is impossible to grasp the extent & immensity of the West Macdonnell Ranges unless you're in the air. The shapes and structures which house these stunning gorges can only be appreciated from above and that's what we both love about this sport.

 Flying along the MacDonnell Ranges had long been a dream of mine (Steve).

Back in January ’76, I visited Central Australia and had marvelled at the range overlooking Alice Springs. Looking up at the rugged cliff I had yearned to leap off and fly like an eagle and it was this image of flying from the MacDonnell ranges that was pivotal in leading me to learn hang gliding. One month after returning from my holiday and after watching hang gliders flying from the Paps near Mansfield, I learnt the basics and that was the start of my flying obsession. Little did I know that this dream was to become a professional full time flying career ten years later.

It’s a great feeling knowing that you can make your dreams become a reality if the desire is strong enough. In 1976, I had promised myself when I was up in Central Australia that I would come back to fly this awesome range one way or another.

Now, 24 years later that’s what I did. Back then, I wanted to leap off a cliff in a hang glider but I now know that to see and experience the west MacDonnell’s properly can only be achieved from a Powered aircraft. It was a memorable experience to be seeing something that not every tourist gets the chance to see. As you fly along these rugged mountains and look into the distance, away from the only road that accesses this region, you find yourself thinking that, this would be a mighty inhospitable place to come down in, if you strayed too far away from the road.

Heading west we followed the highest range, which has most of the main gorges imbedded in it plus the highest peaks, which surprisingly top out over 5000’ high, with 4 other peaks over 4000’ high. With the road a few kilometres to the south we flew fairly high in order to have glide ability back to the road. After 45 cold minutes at altitude our destination came into view, Glen Helen gorge and the ‘jewel of the MacDonnell’s’ – Orminston Gorge, which is the largest of the gorges. Because Glen Helen was next to the road we descended down to 500’agl. From the ground this particular gorge is nothing special when compared with the other gorges, but from the air at this altitude with the morning sun on it, it looked fantastic! We did a few 360’s overhead of a few tourists and then headed back east flying low along the road.

The layout of the west MacDonnells is quite distinctive displaying a set of razor back ridgelines running east west which are arranged in long parallels as far as the eye can see. Their shape and their layout give them the potential and reputation for producing strong mechanical turbulence especially when the wind is blowing from the north or south. This would mean that flying low would be uncomfortable, dangerous and out of the question.

Fortunately though, the wind happened to be a light easterly the day we flew and was negligible down low. So, we took advantage of a slight tail wind on the way to Glen Helen Gorge and on the way back, rather than punching back into a headwind, we descended to 500 feet above the ground and cruised back at 60 knots following the road.

As we headed back we peered eastwards along the range to where Pine Gap should be and sure enough you could see the domes even from 30kms away! We would have liked to have flown further eastwards towards Alice Springs, but time, fuel and weather conditions were against us by now. We spotted Owens Springs airfield from far away, there was no mistaking it. It stood out as clear as day and as if drawn onto the land in red pencil. It’s amazing how well a country airstrip stands out in these surroundings, look in the right direction and you can see it from along way off. As we came into land it was apparent that there was thermic activity already starting at 10am. A couple of hawks were flying nearby and for a while I thought that the wind had come back but it was only thermally produced. We did a straight in approach and descended for our final touchdown further up the strip where the trees had been well cleared. Besides being a little cold we once again felt privileged for having been able to have access to this stunning landscape from the air. After coming down to earth a little, we packed up and were once again on the road, destination – Coober Pedy and the Breakaways.

After driving all day through the featureless landscape between the Northern Territory boarder and Coober Pedy, we finally arrived late in the afternoon. Conditions were perfect so we booked into the local underground camping place, set up our tent, drove to the airport, set up the trike and blasted off into the calm night air. We did a circuit around town first to check out all the dugouts (underground homes) from the air then headed for the Breakaways 32km north of Coober Pedy.

Coober Pedy was originally known as Stuart Range Opal field, named after the first European explorer to the area in 1858. In 1915, the first opal was discovered and in 1920, it was renamed Coober Pedy derived from the aboriginal words "kupa piti meaning, "white man in a hole". It is believed that the soldiers who returned from the trenches of France during the First World War introduced the idea of living underground in homes commonly known as "dugouts".

The miners quickly discovered the advantages of living underground to escape the heat of the summer and the cool desert nights. Here, temperatures in summer can soar to 50 degrees Celsius during the day and plummet to –2 degrees at night in winter. No matter how harsh the climate, the underground rooms maintain a comfortable, even temperature ranging from 23-25 day and night throughout the year. It is estimated that about 50% of the population live underground now. Most dugout homes are excavated into hillsides and the soil in the Coober Pedy is stable enough to allow huge ceiling spans in rooms. In fact, it is not unusual for a mining family to buy an adjoining property and tunnel across to link two dwellings, or even three or four. Some mansion style homes spread up to 450 square metres underground.

From the air these dugout dwellings look like a desert village scene from Star Wars. Just like the landscape, the population of Coober Pedy is also unique with a total of 3500 people, there is said to be 45 different nationalities. In Fact, it has been deemed as one of the most ethnically diverse communities in Australia, we even drove past an underground Serbian church.

In a desert-like environment like this you wouldn’t think that there would be much to see from the air however, it is quite amazing. Only once you’re airborne can you really appreciate the landscape. Surrounding the township are thousands of holes and white powdery mounds (small test digs) extending for nearly 40km around the town. It looks like a huge ant colony has taken up residence.

 Stretching beyond these, is a treeless moonscape desert the flattest most featureless terrain we’ve ever flown over, besides Bourke that is, but even that had trees. To the east of the town is the dog fence, a 2metre high wire barrier stretching for over 5300km across three states, to protect the sheep country in the south from our native dog, the dingo.

 The only other land feature in the area to be seen is a small group of very colourful sandstone hills only about 100-200ft high known as the Breakaways. Their name comes from the fact that this group of hills have broken away from the Stuart Range and the hills of the "Painted Desert" further north. We didn’t have that much daylight left so we headed for the Breakaways 32km north of the township.

This unique set of hills have seen many movie stars come and go and are famous for being the backdrop in movies such as, Mad Max Beyond Thunder dome, Ground Zero and just recently, Pitch Black a movie staring Val Kilmer, yet to be released. We were able to fly quite low around these hills as there were plenty of landing areas in the desert and due to their small scale you needed to, in order to appreciate them fully. The colours in these hills are quite dramatic, ranging from brilliant whites and yellows through to burnt oranges and toffee browns.

 As the sun sank toward the horizon we headed back to the airport, a perfect time to witness these white powdery mounds of (sand and siltstone) transform into heaps of golden dust with the brilliant colours of the evening sun. We got back right on sunset, the best sunset we’d seen, packed up the trike in the dark and went back to our dugout camp ground for the night. Tomorrow we’d head for William Creek and Lake Eyre.

Today we drove 166km of unsealed road to William Creek, South Australia’s smallest village with a population of 12 and a bazaar bush pub that defies words and is worth a visit at least once in your life. People from all over the world and Aussies have left a little piece of themselves (token gifts), behind in the pub for new passes by to appreciate and add to, which gives the place its character. There is so much of this stuff draped from the ceiling, walls and floor that it appears these tokens are not just decorative but serve some structural role in holding up the place. There is not one square millimetre of space left on the surrounding walls of the pub to fill, which I suppose is the reason why all sorts of memorabilia dangle from the rafters. Included amongst this are many interesting varieties of men’s and women’s underwear, from your classic "y"- front jocks to an interesting looking leopard-skin "g"-string. If only these walls could talk I’m sure each of these items would have a different story to tell. Between the pub and the airstrip there’s not much else at William Creek.

William Creek is a place we won’t forget in a hurry. The camping ground is located literally right next to the airstrip. You pay your $5 bucks at the pub when you arrive, pick a piece of dirt anywhere and set up camp. Bonus we thought, what we’d do is, camp between the helipad and the runway, and set up the trike next to our tent so we could fly at daybreak out to Lake Eyre. That way we’d be well away from loud generators and possible snorers and would get a good nights sleep. The generator from the pub was very loud but with the aid of earplugs we managed to fall asleep by 12.00am. Great, we’d get a straight seven hours sleep before sunrise and be in the air by 8am with the other local pilots. But unfortunately this was not to be the case!

At 1am a turbo prop aircraft screamed passed our tent turned back and taxied up the middle of the runway a few metres from our heads finally coming to rest just beyond the helipad at the back door of the pub. It was the Royal Flying Doctor air ambulance. Apparently, someone had suffered a heart attack and needed to be taken to hospital. Since we’d been woken from a deep sleep we thought we might as well get up and watch the action. From where we stood it looked like the guy was going to be O.K, so as quickly as they’d arrived, they departed. We eventually got back to sleep and in a few hours it was morning.

The night before we’d chatted with some of the local pilots who filled us in on the heights and routes they’d be flying (6 Cessna’s in all) and even provided us with a second hand WAC with their regularly flown scenic routes marked on. The rest was in the ERSA. The airstrip faced 150-330, the runway surface red sand silt and we were only 300ft asl. Since Lake Eyre only fills once every twenty years or so and dries up fairly quickly, at the moment it is a very popular place to visit. The flying businesses operating out of William Creek are flat chat and booked months in advance.

We took-off at 8.15am and headed east for Lake Eyre " the inland sea" 1,228,000 ha. Our planned route was to track straight for Dalhunty Island as this was where most of the bird life was supposed to be. This out & return was about 100km. Although we carried a map and compass, we were glad to have our GPS in terrain like this and were sure to double check the co-ordinates we’d punched in, because there aren’t a lot of features to guide you across these vast salt plains. Although, there was one 4wd track that you could follow and land on if needed but not always easily visible. We’d asked the other pilots about landing areas on the way out and they’d advised us to land on dry saltpans and to use cattle tracks to judge the depth of the mud elsewhere.

As we approached the lake it was impossible to see to the other end of it even from the air, it truly is an inland sea. It glistened sky blue, with not even so much as a ripple to disturb its mirror finish. It’s not a very deep lake with its deepest part only 4 meters but most of the lake is shallow enough to wade across it from one side to the other. You can clearly see the rippled sandy bottom. Where the edges of the lake met the desert the shoreline looked as though it had been painted with a very fine tipped brush with delicate whirls and curves of different coloured sands following alternate water courses, it was such a pristine landmark. We didn’t spot any bird life on Dalhunty Island, except a loan seagull and we supposed that, as the lake begins to dry up salt concentrations become so high that the water cannot sustain much life, including fish. On the way out to Dalhunty Is. we flew quite high as we didn’t think that landing on the island was an option and even though the shores of Lake Eyre looked very solid with their salty surface in reality they are a metre deep thick black mud. We really wanted to do some low flying and land on the shores of Lake Eyre, so, we spotted a 4 wd track and went down to check it out. We did several very low passes over it and it looked firmly packed salt, so we landed. We took a photo, went to the toilet, changed pilots, and flew back and with a 10 kt easterly blowing it didn’t take long.

Flying over Lake Eyre filled with water was a rare privilege. Being able to do it in our trike and to have been able to land there was one of the highlights of our trip. This was an experience that we will never forget.

 Our flight took 1.5 hours. After a coffee and some breakfast we packed up our tent and trike and headed off, bound for the Wilpena Pound Flinders Ranges.

We arrived late in the afternoon just on sunset to witness the west side of Wilpena Pound lit up a magnificent red colour. We had both been to Wilpena before many years previously and climbed to the top of St.Mary’s peak (the highest point in the pound), now we would fly over it weather permitting. This was to be the last flight of our 3 week holiday and now that we were back down south the prospect of changeable weather was looming.

The next day looked promising with a light breeze, we decided to fly late in the afternoon and use the day to rest and look around. Unfortunately, this didn’t quite turn out to be a rest day as the night before we had arrived late and had inadvertently set up in an empty bus camping zone. This would have been OK, however, that day a group of bicycle tourists arrived and set up about 20 tents all around us. Being light sleepers we envisaged a sleepless night of listening to the buzz of exhausted snoring! So we packed up and moved to our own private tent site.

By late afternoon we were in luck, the conditions were still favourable with a light wind.

The Flinders Ranges are similar to the MacDonnell Ranges in that, any sort of wind greater than 10 knots would produce rough flying conditions plus in the warmer parts of the day both ranges are renowned for their strong thermic conditions – all in all not friendly to small aircraft.

We quickly set-up, fuelled and pre-flighted our wing and base.

Like Ayres Rock and the Olgas, there are a lot of scenic joy flights operating, so we were again as always conscious of keeping a good lookout plus listening to our radio and giving frequent position fixes of where we were.

One of the local pilots had pre-warned us of kangaroo’s crossing over the strip at dusk, a nightly event! As we took to the air we saw dozens of ‘roos surrounding the strip.

In an earlier conversation around our campfire we’d been reflecting on our recent flying adventures and both expected that the Flinders would be a step down from the beauty we’d witnessed flying over the West MacDonnell Ranges. However, we soon changed our minds. After we took to the air, the grandeur of the Flinders Ranges quickly became apparent. Wilpena Pound was easily as scenic as anything we had seen so far, it is a huge bowl shaped cauldron surrounded by jagged rocky cliffs 4000’ – 5000’ high. To the north stretched ‘the Backbone of the Flinders’, which closely resembled the parallel ranges of the West MacDonnell’s. To the south was the Elder Range. As we flew around the southwest side of Wilpena at 5000’ the light northeasterly still produced turbulence.

The local pilots say that when the wind picks up the turbulence becomes horrendous; it’s easy to see why. It took us 30 minutes to fly right around it’s so big! By this time it was getting too late to head off on a longer XC so we went half way around again heading further out towards Lake Torrens – a huge dry lake to the west of Wilpena. We climbed up to 7500’ to get better perspective photos of the late afternoon sun striking the western face.

 On the way back near St.Mary’s peak we noticed 3 wedgetail eagles soaring at 5000’ in the light - smooth up slope breeze. They were just there for the shear enjoyment of flying – just like us really, so we came in close and joined them, they weren’t scared by us and continued in the mellow evening air. As a hang glider pilot of 24 years, it would have been nice to be doing this in just a hang glider, but because of the remoteness of this site our aircraft was the only practical way of achieving this.

We would have liked to spend more time with these eagles but our fuel was getting low so we headed for the airstrip down below. The sun was just on the horizon as we touched down, skimming over the heads of kangaroos just off the edge of the strip.

We felt ecstatic after landing knowing we’d achieved our final goal. We’d flown six different areas in less than 3 weeks, and knew how lucky we were to have done this in such a limited time.

Remarkably, any strong winds that did blow mainly occurred at the times when we were travelling or had plenty to occupy our time with site seeing.

This brings us to a close on our triking adventures throughout south and central Australia and leaves us at a point where we’ve already made plans for next year, to trike and drive around the Kimberly’s and western Australia. If it weren’t for the portability of the Microlight we wouldn’t have had the opportunity to experience what we did. It truly is a privileged lifestyle to own and fly a trike and accessible to most. You don’t realise how much you’re sometimes missing until you get into the air. So, taking a ‘trike’ with us on holidays is an essential part of our equipment, allowing us to take in the full picture of our beautiful country.