I’m no Kerouac, but…

BY: KAITLIN IN AUSTRALIA

Reader, is there anything better than a dusty, old van and the open road? I spent half the day on a van trundling along an Australian highway at a leisurely pace, and I can’t imagine anything better. I’ll try not to be too effusive or anything like that, but no guarantees! It was something perfect, and one of those times you keep forever, a snapshot of how good life can be.

How I love a good road trip! When I was young, I loved the feel of sticking my arm out the open window of a vehicle and snaking my fingers through the flowing air. (I guess I haven’t grown up very much after all has been said.)

The vans here, as I’ve mentioned, all have traces of serious wear—the kind of wear you’d expect from traveling on rocky and unpaved roads through a tropical rainforest. All the tires look wheezy and only about half full of air. With these vans, there’s just the slightest element of danger, but naturally, that’s part of the fun.

We had a geology field lecture today, by which I really mean that we traveled around the surrounding area of Queensland, Australia called the Atherton Tablelands. Although it looks and feels hilly, it’s actually part of a plateau formed long ago by the shifting of continental plates. And even longer ago, it was a deep sea basin, huge and vast and full of water.

Geologically exploring the Tablelands was a little like being a time traveler. To see all the remnants of things that happened in 420 million years ago—is it weird to say that I felt a twinge of nostalgia? I’d have liked to have been there in the prehistoric age and to have seen those oozing lava flows.

We stopped at a local quarry, which looked like a huge monolith of rock. But as soon as you touched it, small pebbles of volcanic rock fell away—your own mini avalanche. A couple of the guys tried scaling the 100 foot formation, but it was a lost cause.

Next, our trusty van took us to Mount Hypipamee. We spent some time hiking up to a huge gorge, which was caused by a violent gas explosion (insert fart joke here) millions of years ago. As I type this up, I’m cursing myself, wishing I had remembered to bring a camera because it was truly out of this world: a huge gaping hole in the earth 82 meters deep, with green murky water at the bottom.

But even if I had had the foresight to bring a camera, I know I wouldn’t be able to make you know the feeling, the sight, the thrill of peering over the ledge of a vertigo-inducing gorge.

I guess what I’m trying to say is this: It was the best geology lecture I’d ever had.

As we headed back, I couldn’t have been more tired. The day had been long, and these days, my head generally hits the pillow at around ten o’clock. Everyone else was the same, and we were all quiet except for the sound of our van, which, it must be said, tends to make a high-pitched whirring at all times.

So, in the light of a rare moon (remember, clear skies are a big deal here), we headed back to a place—so wondrous, so new—that I’ve learned to call home.

Next time: I'll show you the contents of my pack and all the essentials of hiking through a rainforest.

All my love,
Kaitlin

P.S. I’ve updated my Flickr account with eight or so pictures from around the field station. Here’s the address, again:

http://flickr.com/kaitlinkyi

A view from a path around our field station