Until we understand God

Day: 187 Stage three / total expedition days 578

Sunrise:
05:28

Sunset:
18:46

As the crow flies:
24,4

Daily kilometers:
27

Total kilometers:
5798 km

Temperature - Day (maximum):
36° degrees, sun approx. 56°

Temperature - Night:
18.6° degrees

Latitude:
23°06'24.0"

Longitude:
144°28'10.8"

New Energy Camp – 11/19/2002

Today is the day again. After a longer rest than planned, we continue our eventful march through a land where adventure meets infinity. In order not to lose any time this morning, we had already prepared everything over the past two days. So we fetched the saddles from the dam with Rowley’s Ute and lined them up next to a cattle enclosure not far from the homestead. Last night we put almost all the equipment next to the saddles. Again, we weighed everything neatly with our spring scales to adjust the load of the left and right saddlebags to within a kilogram. Tanja’s loading plan does not allow one of our boys to be loaded on one side and thus run the risk of getting unnecessary pressure sores. We are in good spirits again. Staying here with Jenny and Rowley has given us a lot of energy. The camels have also been able to eat their fill in the last two weeks. They had a great time because they were allowed to run around freely on the large grounds and help themselves to the delicious bushes and trees as they pleased.

Our two excellent hosts join us as early as 05:00 to follow the loading process. It is 06:30 when the camel train is ready to march and waiting for my command. We embrace Jenny and Rowley and are grateful to them from the bottom of our hearts for their kindness, their easy-going nature, their friendship, their ideas, their unparalleled generosity and the trust they have placed in us. During a critical phase of the expedition, they welcomed us with open arms and offered us a paradise of peace and tranquillity. We will never forget them and, like many of our past hosts, will carry them with us in our hearts for the rest of our lives.

THE LAST PLACE OF RETREAT, THE LAST PRIVATE SPACE OF A PERSON

“Camis walk up!” I shout the command and, as in recent weeks, months and years, our feet sit down in front of each other. It is a beautiful day. A deep blue sky arches over our heads. Birds chirp their fresh, lively song, black parrots fly screeching from tree to tree and a light breeze lets our powerful lungs breathe. The weakness, the negative thoughts, the deep causes of psychological hell that had their gouty fingers reaching for us a few weeks ago have been blown away. No longer exist. We feel like we’ve been reborn. No longer like people who have been driven aimlessly through a long, dark tunnel with no chance of ever reaching the cheerful light of day again. Bimbah was an important stopover, more important than we dared to imagine. I still find it difficult to describe what has set our hearts free. These are deeply emotional events. Events that take place inside a person. They are the last retreats of the psyche, the last private space of a person. It is a place where we can retreat whenever we want. A place of peace, but also a place of battle, where battles are fought that sometimes decide between life and death. The outcome of which can decide how life goes on in the future. Whether you stay on the track or are hurled into the infinity of space as boundless flotsam. We all hold it in our own hands, hold and shape our own future without us humans being aware of it.

Here on Bimbah I have had many opportunities to retreat to this place of my own self, my own being, the center of All That Is. I have thought a lot, I have analyzed a lot and many a hurdle has come to light after endless back and forth wrestling, has exploded out of the tunnel of darkness and been burned to ashes by the light of the sun. I don’t want to give the impression here that I have been going through a hell of my own psyche for the last few months, but as I described in the open and honest texts of the last few weeks, a storm has built up in my innermost place, in my last private space, which I find difficult to put into words. But I’m also sure that years of extreme living in the desert can cause such inner storms to brew. A thunderstorm that is comparable to a battle. A battle that erupts like a thunderstorm when you hardly think it possible.

It is precisely this event, precisely this discharge of the built-up tension, the explosion of which I spoke, that has hurled my inner being a significant distance further towards the light of the sun. It is comparable to a liberation, comparable to an invisible power loosening the rigid shackles around the heart, the shackles around the psyche.

Without a doubt, I am immensely grateful to my teacher of the desert and Mother Earth for this liberation of my psyche. I thank them, lighter, with an even wider heart, to be able to move on to the next challenges of life. I thank the desert and Mother Earth for guiding Tanja and me through all the tasks of the past years with an iron grip. Without this often merciless guidance, but also the all-encompassing protection, we would not be where we are today. By which I mean having more inner peace and inner wealth.

It seems to me that for a long time now we have not just been putting one step in front of the other in order to cover lumpy kilometers, but mainly to learn. Every step takes us towards new knowledge, new tasks, new adventures and new challenges. With every step, the desire to share our experiences, adventures and insights with you, dear readers, increases. I don’t know why I am sharing a large part of my thoughts, a large part of my being with you here, but somehow I can’t help it. Somehow I am compelled to do this by an inner drive. I’m not really sure whether these thoughts are of interest to many of you, but I’m writing them down anyway, as in this case. I often sit there and review our experiences, let them replay like a movie in my mind’s eye and suddenly my fingers are writing these texts. I usually deliberately interrupt myself so that I don’t run the risk of getting bored. As I said, it’s not easy to tell a story without seeing your audience, without getting an immediate reaction that I could respond to. On the other hand, the story is as it is, unadulterated, open and direct. It is a story whose script is written by life. A story in which we ourselves do not know how it will continue tomorrow. It is always exciting and will always remain exciting. This is how life should be, exciting, interesting, full of love and learning. Even if we’re in trouble from time to time, even if we sometimes don’t know where our heads are, I’m happy about every day of this life. I am glad to have found my and our teacher in Mother Earth. A teacher who has many names. Mother Earth will never lie to us, she is a part of us and we are a part of her. We come out of the earth and go back into it. We belong together and not even death can separate us. Mother Earth is a part of the universe, a part of God and as we are a part of her we are a part of “All That Is”. It is a simple realization, it is a liberating, courage-giving realization that leads us humans further and further, further and further until we understand and live God from the depths of our hearts.

PEOPLE SAY GOODBYE TO US & WARNING OF MORE POISONOUS PLANTS

“There’s a car coming,” Tanja calls, whereupon I pull our boys to the side of the track. The jeep stops about 50 meters in front of us. Mark, his wife Pam and their little boy Clem get out. We already know her, as we spent an evening together on Bimbah and watched one of our documentary videos. They come towards us laughing. Mark is the manager of Goodberry Station. He works for Rowley and Jenny, who also own this farm. The family drove out especially to see the caravan. “Have you found anyone on the coast who will offer us hospitality at the end of the expedition?” I ask Mark. “No, unfortunately not Denis. I wasn’t able to contact many of the station owners. I only had contact with one station. However, it is located 200 kilometers south of Bowen. That must be too far for you?” “Yes, 200 kilometers means a two-week walk for us, but if we can’t find anything else, we’ll have to bite the bullet and take the extra detour.” “Just give us a call when the time comes. We’re sure to find a farm where you can break up your expedition,” he replies. After a few photos, the family says goodbye to us.

It’s not long before Mark Kleinschmidt from the Lake Eyre Basin Authority visits us to take a few photos too. We met him a week ago in Longreach. “I had contact with a camel man in South Australia. He organizes expedition trips for tourists. He has heard about you and is possibly interested in your camels. If he can afford expedition camels at the moment, he will get in touch with Jo and Tom Kitchen. You’ve published their phone number on your English website.” “Oh, that sounds good Mark. Thank you very much for the information,” I reply and am pleased that the ABC radio interviews were met with open ears.

We are still talking to Mark Kleinschmidt when another jeep stops. It’s our dream family. We greet each other, pose for a few photos and exchange a few words. Unfortunately, we can’t talk for long to reach our destination for today. We say goodbye and follow the track to Muttaburra. More cars stop next to the caravan. We are warned again and again about the upcoming 1080 plant (Desert Poison Bush or Heart Leaf), which is absolutely deadly for cattle, sheep, horses and camels. It’s the same poisonous plant that made us take the detour to Westerton Station. On the way to the east coast there are several areas where it is at home and poses a further threat to our camels. “If you stay on the track, nothing can happen to you,” the owner of The Lakes Station told us on the phone. However, we do not yet know where we can expect to find this poisonous plant.

We thank the people who kindly warn us about the poisonous bush and carry on walking. We are still safe, because according to our information the Heart Leaf bush only grows 50 kilometers beyond the village of Aramac.

About a kilometer from the track, we find a campsite under a huge eucalyptus tree on the branch of the Thomson River mentioned by Rowley. A large horde of kangaroos also uses this shady spot as a resting place. As soon as the animals see us approaching, they hop away in long leaps.

After we have set up camp and the animals are feeding, we hear the sound of engines. A jeep struggles across the bumpy, dry grassland in our direction. It’s Rowley who wants to visit us again on his way home. “Hello, how are you doing on your first day of running?” he asks with a laugh. “The muscles are whining,” I reply jokingly. We talk a little about the wonderful time on Bimbah and it’s not long before he has to leave again. “Do you still need water?” he asks. “Hm, it’s only 80 kilometers to Aramac. We’ve actually had enough,’ I reply thoughtfully. “It’s not good to be thirsty out there,” he replies. “You’re right, the camels can carry 10 liters more. We’ve already used them up today anyway,” I decide, take an empty 10-liter bag and fill it up at his jeep. Then we say goodbye to our host, most likely for the last time, and wave after the Toyota as it lurches away.