Climbing Mount Woodroffe (Ngarutjaranya)

Elevation:  1,435 metres    Nearest towns:  Amata / Uluru

Difficulty:  Medium             Date[s] climbed:  27/09/2009 and 23/05/2010    Location:  S.A.    Author: Graeme

Dawn creating awakening, gentle shadows, on the Perentie Lizard Man

Mount Woodroffe is South Australia’s highest mountain, buried deep in isolated but beautify APY Land, approximately 137 km south east of Yulara as the crow flies.

History

William Ernest Giles was the first white man to pass through the immediate area and he camped to the south of Woodroffe on September 7, 1873. William Christie Gosse had previously named it Mt. Woodroffe on July 20 from a distance, that same year. Woodroffe was named after George “Woodroffe” Goyder, then Surveyor-General of South Australia and an early Australian explorer.

Warnings

You must obtain a permit to climb Mt. Woodroffe from the APY Land Council. At this time that permit can only be organised through Diverse Travel (formerly named Desert Tracks), who advise that no permits are being considered at this time (2022). It has facetiously been suggested that it is easier to obtain a visa to visit North Korea! Given you are hosted by Diverse Travel, it is a well-conducted climb with spinifex and the weather being the only challenges. It is really worth the big effort to undertake this climb and you will join a small handful of people who have enjoyed the experience.

Planning, getting there, Song lines etc.

Mt Woodroffe is on Anangu aboriginal land and as such can only be accessed through a local tour company, Diverse Travel. So, in September 2009, Brian, his wife Tanya, son Kadison, myself, my wife Cate, and our son Sam, make our way to Uluru, to be met by Brett and his crew from Diverse Travel. Wonderful, no planning necessary as they pick you up at Yulara and provide everything on the 3-day trip to Woodroffe. Brian and I needed the break as we had climbed Mt. Zeil 2 days before and it was great to have someone else worry about the driving, cooking and logistics.

The trip to Woodroffe is an experience in itself. Leaving Uluru, you head 80 odd km back down the Lasseter highway towards Alice Springs before turning south on to Mulga Park Road, a rough dirt road that goes past Mt. Conner, into Mulga Park Station, and finally across the S.A border onto Anangu aboriginal land and then on to Mt. Woodroffe. Roughly 140 odd km! As an aside Mt. Connor is commonly mistaken for Uluru, and is more imposing in my opinion. A bonus sighting.

We camp at the Diverse Travel campsite and that night meet Peter Nyaningu, an aboriginal elder and Traditional Owner of Mt. Woodroffe. Peter is a first contact aboriginal, which means that he was there when his people made first contact with white Australians. As a child, he was carried on his father’s shoulders from Mt. Woodroffe to Mt. Conner, and across to Uluru and back, learning his people’s song lines along the way. He has a simple but inspirational philosophy of life and explains the story of the Perentie lizard man after whom Mt. Woodroffe is named. Peter is well travelled and has been presented to the Pope and other notables, a remarkable ambassador for his country and his people.

It was a great privilege to meet Peter and a very important learning experience for our 13-year-old sons. A condition of entry into the campsite is that you meet some of the locals and learn about the local Song lines and local folk lore. Diverse Travel explain it as:

“We then meet our hosts, the traditional custodians of Mt Woodroffe, make camp and settle down to a campfire dinner under the stars while we listen to the elders tell us the creation / law story of Wati Ngintaka, the Giant Perentie Lizard man, armed with this new knowledge you are granted permission for tomorrow's ascent. Listen also as the Elders explain traditional lifestyle and the history of the region, oral history and storytelling is a tradition passed down for thousands of years”.

Late that afternoon we also have the opportunity to help clean out a sacred site with Peter. There is an amazing cave near that site, some 50 metres up a hill. Singly, we are able to lay on our backs and wriggle into a cave, where you can gaze in wonder at the rock art on the roof. It is reputed to be up to 12,000 years old! During that experience Pete, still on level ground below, breaks into a long, highly resonant song/chant, which is a very moving experience for us all.

The camp is located on a dry riverbed, bounded by huge, majestic River Red Gums. Lee states that it has been seven years since the river has last run. Each night, which saw the thermometer drop below zero, we creep deep into our swags and spend the night cosseted by the coarse river sand, with nothing but the Milky Way as a companion. That view is magnified many times, due to the pitch black that surrounded us.

The Climb(s)

The actual climb of Woodroffe is not that difficult, although it takes from 6-7 hours return, depending on your travelling companions. It is largely covered in spinifex, and the rock is very loose and crumbly underfoot. You can just feel the extreme age of the place with every step you take. On this climb Jesse of Diverse Travel accompanies us, as there is a small group of German exchange students with us who also wish to climb. These girls have no climbing experience, and “scheissenhausen” became the new word for spinifex for the next 6 hours. The walk is going well, but I have overestimated the ability of Sam’s legs to go over spinifex, as some of the clumps are as high as he is, and on this trip Sam and I are unable to summit. Brian and the rest of the party make it on a beautiful sunny day; our wives enjoying the peacefulness of the campsite without us.

Brian and I return to Woodroffe in May 2010, again with Diverse Travel and 2 other climbers, Allan Fielding and Andrew Colin and this time we are all able to reach the summit. The clouds are low over Woodroffe, and we make the second half of the climb in near blizzard like conditions, unable to see more than 20 feet through the mist and rain. Luckily, as Brian had been to the top before, we are able to easily navigate our way. The difference between the conditions on our two Woodroffe climbs highlights the need to be properly prepared any time you enter remote areas, especially climbs.

Mount Woodroffe is a very special experience, made more so by the incredible surrounds, isolation, and history of its people. If you listen to the silence, you can imagine the slumbering Perentie lizard man in his mountain, serenely looking over his domains.

It was a privilege to be allowed to visit him.

Our thanks to the traditional owners the Anangu, for allowing us to experience their amazing backyard, to Peter Nyaningu for his wisdom, and Diverse Travel for the total experience. And of course, to our wives Cate and Tanya, who humbly, (LOL) spent two nights in swags in a dry riverbed.

Climbing Mount Morris

Elevation:  1,303 metres    Nearest towns: Amata

Difficulty:  Medium             Date[s] climbed:  05/07/2019    Location: S.A.    Author:   Graeme

                                                                                              Graeme and our Traditional Owner looking towards Amata

Mt Morris is the second highest mountain in South Australia and is situated on APY lands. (Anangu Pitjantjatjara Yankunytjatjara) near the small town of Amata. The easiest way to access Mt Morris is…… Wrong! There is no easy way. As Morris is on APY land, permits are required to even enter this region, and as of 2019, no permits have been allowed. We spent over 2 years attempting to contact people who may have been able to speak to the APY representatives and perhaps allow access to climb Mt. Morris, while not entering any communities or other areas, but even tour groups who have led 4-wheel drive tours along the Gunbarrel Highway for many years reported that there is now no access to the region.

Warnings

We suspect that if you receive approval to climb Mt. Morris, it will be assisted. Morris is in a very remote area and the usual outback Australia warnings apply.

History

The following is an extract from the:  REPORT and DIARY of MR. W. C. GOSSE'S CENTRAL and WESTERN EXPLORING EXPEDITION, 1873

Monday, October 20. — Musgrave Ranges, Lungley's Gully. (Depôt No. 16). Barometer 27.16 in., wind east. Started at 7 a.m., to find water, near a high point of range I have named Mount Morris. Commenced course from my furthest east point, for the south end of a spur bearing 97° 45'; this I reached in 5 miles, passing over a well grassed flat, with mulga on both sides. Changed to 31°, at 6 miles, in direction of a deep gully, and at 2½ miles found enough water for the camp, but with a very rocky approach. Examined several other gullies in the afternoon, but they were all dry. The rest of the camp arrived during the afternoon. I ascended a high hill near camp, from which I took bearings to Ayers Rock and Allanah's Hill. Mount Morris bears 34° 30' about six miles distant, I obtained a good view of the surrounding country. The ranges appear to be very much broken, splendid flats between, of rich alluvial soil; the one towards Mount Morris is about five miles wide, and from ten to fifteen miles long. The view east is completely shut out by a higher range to the south-south-east. South, and south-south-west are broken hills, extending about forty miles, and lightly timbered mulga country as far as I could see clearly. Saw numbers of native smokes in these hills. I shall visit Mount Morris to-morrow.

Wednesday, October 22. — Musgrave Ranges. Water in gully. Barometer, 27.03 in.; wind, south-east. I shall now remove my camp to the spring found yesterday. Sent my brother and Kamran further on in search of water, whilst I ascended Mount Morris; I found it to be 1,830 feet above the surrounding country, and 4,113 feet above sea level. Took bearings to Mount Conner, Mount Olga, Ayers Rock, and Mount Woodroffe. I found the variation to be 15° to the west here. A very high portion of these ranges extending for about thirty miles west of north, probably about 2,000 feet high; beautiful country in every direction. This portion of the range is composed of very coarse granite. Strike of rock east; dip 35° to south.

As detailed, Gosse both named Mount Morris, and was the first non-indigenous person to climb it. It “seems” he named it after a friend, according to the South Australia gazetteer.

Planning and getting there

We had previously been into APY lands to climb Mt. Woodroffe (highest Mountain in S.A) and on that journey had met and formed good relationships with a few of their elders. And so, we contacted “SEIT Outback Australia”, (SEIT) which is a travel company that has connections with the Mt. Woodroffe tour and have agreed access to this area. They also run educational tours to a location near Amata called “Cave Hill”, where they introduce school groups to indigenous life. Beneficial to all I would think.

After much in-depth and protracted negotiation by master negotiator Brian, SEIT agreed to take us on a one-off trip to Cave Hill, and then to meet with one of the indigenous elders near Amata. The agreement was that there was no guarantee that we would be allowed to climb, and that if we did get agreement, the elder would climb with us as he had been there before. Brian was even advised the night before we were due to fly out that there was still no guarantee the trip would happen!

So, on the 4th of July, 2019, Brian and I catch an early flight to Uluru, to be met by two guides from SEIT. As we walk out from the arrival gates, I see a familiar face and happily walked over to meet Brett, whom Brian and I had climbed Mt. Woodroffe with some years before, and in a total whiteout. He remembered the climb well as it was his first Woodroffe climb, and also because we had managed a seemingly impossible climb in the conditions. This was a positive start, as he knew that we were experienced climbers with a track record.

We all bundle into the SEIT truck, and immediately leave for the trip down to Cave Hill, and then Amata and our possible climb. It is good to be heading away from Uluru, as in conversation with other travellers arriving, we have discovered that there was no accommodation to be had anywhere around Uluru, as people were flocking there to do the Uluru climb which was due to close later in the year. One poor lady had been given the flight to Uluru by her children, but no accommodation, and we think she ended up in staff quarters!

Our first stop on the way to Amata is Curtin Springs, where a large sign states “don’t bother even to ask about accommodation”. One caravan driven by a distinctly oriental gentleman, was last seen heading south down the rough road towards Mulga Park Station. I hope they’re not still there! From Curtin Springs we turn south, past the imposing Mount Connor and down past Mulga Park Station, and then on to Amata Rd (part of the Gunbarrel Highway) and a brief stop at Amata. We meet the TO (Traditional Owner) who is going to escort us up Mount Morris the next day. We are pleased to see the TO is a local we had also met during our Woodroffe climbs.

(As it turns out we become quite close to our TO and of course know him on a first name basis. Much as we would like to use his name in this article, we are sensitive to the customs and norms regarding indigenous people and their country. From here on we’ll simply refer to him as Our TO)

Our TO is camped in a parking area outside of Amata repairing his car, his temporary accommodation, and also helping to replace the rear axle on another 4WD. This entails him climbing under the car, which was held up with a small tree branch, while two others hammer away at the axle. I thought the climb might end there! Car fixed, and he agrees to meet us next morning a couple of kilometres up the Gunbarrel, outside Amata, where he will guide us up the mountain. To get Our TO on his way, we have to push start the Nissan, our possible transport for tomorrow.... Pleasantries exchanged, minus any initiated handshake, we head back up the road through beautiful open arid country until the turn in to Cave Hill.

SEIT have a camp based at Cave Hill, which consists of a permanent open corrugated hut, with kitchen facilities and a remote drop toilet. When we arrive, we meet a group of the local indigenous women, who are having a campfire with a couple of non-indigenous women who are there for the indigenous art. We are given permission to enter and use the SEIT facilities, and have an enjoyable evening with our own (separate) campfire, where Brett cooks some very welcome steaks.

After dinner, one of the indigenous women elders joins us and spends some time chatting by the fire. We feel quite honoured. Brett tells us she is one of the last of the “old people” as another of their elders has passed away recently. Because of this, we are not allowed to shake hands, unless they initiate the handshake, or photograph anyone, without their permission.

We spend a freezing night at Cave Hill, and unfortunately have no time to wander up to the cave where the indigenous art is apparently exceptional. The open hut has a number of “rudimentary steel beds”, but both Brian and I have packed lightly, assuming that swags will be provided as had been the case on our Mt. Woodroffe climb with the same company. Not the case unfortunately, and I end up wearing every piece of clothing that I have packed and still freeze. Hot coffee at breakfast could not come quickly enough.

The Climb

We leave quite early next morning for the short drive down the Gunbarrel to Amata. After an anxious wait, Our TO arrives in his elderly Nissan Patrol, and we follow him into the scrub. The going very quickly becomes full 4WD territory, and at this stage the SEIT team are not happy to proceed, as the truck is being scratched mercilessly. No problem, so a space is found (sort of), in the Patrol, and with slight trepidation, Brian and I wave farewell to our SEIT guides and head deep into the wilderness with Our TO.

We have only gone 100 metres when Our TO asks Brian, who is in the front seat, what the yellow light on the dashboard is saying. “You’ve got no coolant” says Brian in a confident and resigned voice. “O that’s OK says Our TO” and on we go, across river bed's, through trees, over trees, and finally up a gully where we can see what appears to be a way up a large foothill just south of the mountain. “We go up and over that one, is that OK”, asks Our TO? As we always do, Brian and I have done our homework, and are pretty sure that Mt. Morris is in fact slightly to the north of this point, so we suggest perhaps starting the climb to the north of this foothill and up a steep gully.

Brian has the courage to ask whether Our TO has actually been up the mountain, and the answer is yes, but only once and many years ago. The last people to go up the mountain were police, some years before, looking for a cousin who was lost there somewhere. They did not find him, and with a happy voice our guide says, “might find his skeleton up there somewhere”. Not the most positive of starts.

After the steep gully, we come to a ridge, and now the real climb can be seen. We decide to descend a considerable way to a creek crossing, as there is an obvious way straight up the other side. In hindsight, we would have been far better to stick to the ridge on the left, as it climbs much more slowly up to the summit. The “straight up” way soon becomes just that, and at one stage we pause at a steep shute, with aged crumbly rock the only purchase, and a probable fall of 100 metres at one slip. Good sense and a survival instinct kicks in, and we find a way around. Our TO decides to climb the shute, and when I caution him about the possibility of a fall, he says “that was OK and just leave him on the mountain with his ancestors”! He has been singing to them as we climbed and he said that "they are watching over us"!

After all, surviving, obviously with the ancestor’s approval, we stop and take some photos, and our guide launches into a fabulous description of what the surrounding mountains are and the song lines and indigenous history. Including a story about him being speared in the leg for punishment, when he was much younger. Fascinating. We have been told not to take photos unless given approval, but Our TO was keen to have a record of the climb and posed away sitting on a large rock and pointing to various mountains and valleys, describing the stories about each.

(Ed. Our TO is a magnificent, classic appearance, indigenous man but sadly we are unable to share those photos of him. Quite a pity.)

From here it is a relatively easy climb to a large cairn on the “summit”. Actually, we find the cairn is not quite on the highest spot, but we walk over the actual summit on the way “down”. The cairn is, however, in the most scenic spot, on an exposed outcrop and has wonderful views over Amata and through 360 degrees of dessert panorama. Our GPS registers 1,262 metres at the highest point, however it has not been calibrated recently, so may have been some metres out.

Our guide sings a song to his ancestors, and then produces a large shaving mirror which he has carried all the way up the climb around his neck. He proceeds to attempt to “call” his friends in Amata. When the old ways receive no response, he pulls out his mobile phone, rings Amata and hands me the mirror, asking me to continue the signalling. As he sits on the top of the cairn, phone in hand whilst I attempt to shine the mirror at Amata; it seems a surreal meeting of two cultures. “Look up in the sky he keeps saying. I’m up in the sky with my white feller mates.” And sure enough, soon we have mirrors communicating from Amata, and the sound of exited voices over the phone. We almost felt acceptance.

The wind is howling, and it is quite cold on the summit, but excitement (but mainly our guide) keep us there for quite a while. But what a privilege to be there, just Brian, myself and Our TO. At the start of the mountain, we were separate and awkward together, but here on the summit, we are just 3 happy climbers. We then begin our descent, and as we had noticed that we could not see over a rise to the west of the summit, we climbed over that, noticing with our GPS that this is in fact the high point by a few metres or so. (So, the cairn was placed in the most obvious location for viewing, but not at the highest point)

The descent is much easier than ascent, as we keep to the ridge leading west from Morris, and it is an easy gradual descent. We will know next time! Back to the Patrol at the base, and after a small scare when it seems as though it is not going to start, we bush bash our way back to the waiting SEIT guides. I think they are relieved to see us. Then comes an awkward farewell to Our TO. Off the mountain, we are somehow different. We promise to send him copies of the photos which we had not only been given permission to take, but in fact asked to take, and we are on our way back to Uluru. (Brian did follow up with copies of all the photos)

We must give thanks to SEIT tours for arranging this one-off trip, but particular thanks to the APY people for allowing us to do this climb, and especially Our TO who guided us through the wilderness and up the correct mountain.

It’s a spectacular area and it is a pity that for some reasons at present, access is prohibited. It could be very beneficial to the indigenous people, and educational to visitors if some sort of limited access agreement could be worked out, perhaps similar to Mt. Woodroffe access. And it was quite amazing that once away from other eyes, and millennia of difference, a simple mountain could allow us to throw out all the nonsense, and just be friends. Perhaps that’s why the Swiss seem so content.

Postscript. Since then, climbing Uluru has ceased and this seems to have become a de facto policy for accessing indigenous lands. Maybe that is how it should be …….