Heading west out of Melbourne, enroute to Adelaide, is an 8-hour romp in a 4-wheeled coffin with no agenda other than getting there. If, however, 1 is just a tad bit inquisitive, it’ll take 4 days. There’s the Grampian Mountains, brown coal mining, the bulk of Australia’s farm and sheep land, and a generous supply of retired Aussies who’ll make you a banana sandwich and tell you of all the local wonders that you’re propelling yourself through (mostly embellished). The elderly are the coming attraction of your own existence, but as long as your heart can pump the freedom sauce to the brain, the young pay it no mind. When time finally creeps up on these octogenarians, they surrender their drive to be rich and offer their wisdom to anyone who’ll listen. Life’s lessons lie in wrinkled skin with a very short future, and happiness is best served young. As the 3 days in Adelaide came to a halt, the defining moment of the whole British colonization thing comes to light: they just want to grow unique plants in their gardens and parks. That’s it! Heading north into the outback and the deserts of central Australia, Dim spent a night sleeping in a cave in Coober Pedy and stood on a vast playa of white, salty sand known as, Lake Eyre. It may have been his upbringing near the shores of a Great Lake that drove him out here to stand on a representation of what Lake Erie will look like when the US western states suck it dry. Next on the pail list is Ayers Rock, or Uluru, in the heart of the Northern Territory’s Red Center. Being 450 kilometers one way off the main path, it beckons 1 to scale it, even though it is discouraged by the locals. Standing on the top of the world’s largest monolith, Dim could see why they don’t want tourists up there. The reward is pure heavenly. As long as Dim was this far off the beaten path, might as well stick another 600 klicks on the odometer and cross into Western Australia just to say he’d been in every state of that country. And so, he did.

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