STUART'S WELL, Australia - Let's get this out of the way right now: Camels do not stink. They don't spit either - at least not the ones I know. And I know a few . . . almost a dozen of 'em, in fact. Spent three days with them - three close-contact days - in Australia's Outback.
Yes, yes; they have camels in Australia. Dromedaries; that's one-humpers. (Haven't you seen those wacky "Where the Bloody Hell Are You?" ads with the camel caravan on the beach, urging visitors to vacation in Australia?)
No, camels aren't indigenous to Oz. But they aren't Joeys come lately, either, having been brought here during 19th century explorations because this is mostly a desert, and camels are - you know - the ships of the desert. Their dinner-plate feet handle sand well, and they don't need much water.
In these days of locomotives, Cessnas and tractor-trailer roadtrains stretching 3,000 feet, camels can't compete in the transport business, though some 400,000-700,000 survive, depending on who's counting.
But they make one heck of a tourist ride. So here we are, nine intrepid camel trekkers ages 7 to 50-plus, plus our camel driver, setting off on a three-day journey into Australia's Red Centre.
We've signed on with Camels Australia, a farm about an hour south of Alice Springs on the road to Ulura, the massive rock hump formerly called Ayer's Rock that is the icon of Australia. The farm takes casual visitors on half-hour rides around the yard and provides a sandwich break and bathroom stop for bus and car passengers. While visitors are stretching their legs, they can check out camel relatives - including llamas and alpacas - and Outback creatures recuperating from injuries, such as kangaroos and emus. The farm's dingo is purely a pet.
But for us, there'll be no namby-pamby walk on a tether. We're here for a serious excursion.
LEARNING TO DRIVE Neil Waters, camel driver, guide and farm owner with wife Jayne, gives us the intro spiel. Man looks his part: Wispy beard to his elbows, Coke-bottle glasses, a classic Crocodile Dundee hat and jeans that have seen plenty of dust. He's been driving camels for 25 years, give or take, and has 70 of his own.
Driving a camel is somewhat like riding a horse, he explains, except the camel is bigger, slower and less likely to spook. And we shouldn't try to grip them with our legs. Just hang loose, he advises.
On these well-trained animals, riding requires little finesse. Each camel is fitted with a metal rack - fashioned by Waters himself - that holds a leather saddle allowing us to ride comfortably behind the hump. The camel's nose cartilage has been pierced with a stud; from this hangs a rope that will be our steering mechanism. Pull to the left for left, right for right. And in case the camel isn't paying attention, the saddle is equipped with an "accelerator," a length of rubber garden hose with rope as a handle that can be used to prod him along.
The hard part is getting up and down. That goes both for the camel and for you.
Hoosh! and the camel folds his lanky legs onto the sand, where thick pads protect his knees from roughness and heat. You clamber easily aboard. Up! and the camel unfolds those long stretches of bone and sinew, and you wobble forward and back as he rises to his full statuesque height, which can measure as much as 10 amazingly tall feet to the shoulder. Move on! is designed to speed up the pace. Stop! is the command for the obvious.
This, we will later learn, is what happens in theory. Sometimes camels don't feel like hooshing. Sometimes they stand before you're properly aboard. Sometimes they suffer convenient memory loss and forget their entire four-word vocabulary - say, just about the time a tasty mulga tree appears within reach of their rapacious mouths.
AND THEY'RE OFF For now, we're off into a rough land of red dirt and low, scrubby whorls of tough grass called spinifex. Into The Outback. Our luggage takes an alternate path, by truck, to the permanent camp where we'll spend two nights.
At first, we scarcely notice our surrounds, fixed instead on settling atop our mounded mounts. I'm on Chamois, a 10-footer who, at 20 years old, is in the midst of middle age. His head-top coif looks pretty much like a car-shining rag, hence the name.
Comfort comes quickly. "It's like being in a rocking chair," said Carol Hardy, a nurse from Melbourne. "I find it very relaxing."
Alan Davies, 10, from Sydney, is having a harder time. Being up in the air is a bit scary and his mom, Naridah, confesses later that she's worried the trip is a mistake. But Waters, ever patient, has seen fear before. Within an hour, Alan and brother Craig, 13, are trotting eagerly across the terra-cotta ground, accelerators in hand.
It all seems quite exotic and brave - for the first hour. Then the reality of bodies unaccustomed to lolling hung across a strong spine sets in.
"Does your bum hurt yet?" Carol asks.
"Three days is starting to look like a lot," Naridah says.
The break for tea comes as a welcome relief. True to the lore of Waltzing Matilda, tea is strong and boiled in a billy - a tough iron pot set straight on the fire - and served with cookies.
Then we're back on the beasts.
Between groans, we start to notice the changing land. At first it seems flat and unremarkable, endless miles of mud and ragged scrub. Then rocky cliffs rise from the plain. The earth turns tawny. A copse of thorny acacia, wattle and mulga trees appears draped with a dozen varietals of mistletoe. A tall white gum looms above the plain.
A pair of Major Mitchell cockatoos flash past, white feathers above a Coral Gables-pink belly. By the time we reach camp, camels and riders are both ready for a rest. The camels may have done the work on this five-hour trek, but the people sure are sore.
"I'm all right," says David Davies, the dad. "All right - that's a good word for agony."
The camp brings a few welcome amenities: a permanent outhouse with toilet paper, rainwater shower and a lean-to with a dining table, gas grill and stove. Our luggage has arrived as promised.
What it doesn't have is tents. In Australia, camping means sleeping in a swag (remember the swagman in Matilda?) - a giant bedroll set out under the stars. Literally. Despite the rocky ground, the swag proves remarkably warm and comfy.
The luggage wrangler hangs around a minute, to be sure all is well, before heading back to the farm. Occasionally, riders just bail out of the trip, Waters tells us.
But not this crowd. We're a little achy, but exhilarated. "It's such a privilege to come through this country on these animals," says Marjorie Young, traveling with her 18-year-old daughter, Christa, from Canada.
Says Craig, warming himself before the fire in the quick-chilling desert, "My hands are cold, my feet are cold, I'm miserable - and I'm having a great time."
GETTING OUR RHYTHM Our few days together take on a rhythm: Simple but hearty meals (steaks and Spam, but no camel meat), strong tea, aching bodies and a debate about whether it's worth pulling out clean jeans for the next day's ride. (No.) A long day, and then a cozy snuggle in the swag.
Waters occasionally rides backward; easier to keep an eye on the trekkers and share his tales. He shows us a dozen types of mistletoe, tiny flowers in white and yellow. Once or twice, he points out kangaroos.
We visit cave paintings and a mound of aboriginal flint stones, and discover traditions of the area's original people. We pass by a grove of gum trees and learn never to sleep beneath one; their heavy branches can fall off suddenly. We cross massive sand dunes and ride beneath the shadow of cliffs that turn orange, then red, in the setting sun. At last, we learn how to tell our look-alike camels apart, from the subtle differences in nose shape, height, hair color, even texture.
And certainly personality.
Chamois has proven a sweet-hearted fellow, tolerant of clanging cameras. Other camels aren't quite so accommodating; some rush for the camel cafeteria - big stands of favorite-tasting bushes - or insist on rising just when the rider is about to swing his leg over. Some simply refuse to hoosh, perhaps thinking that we just won't notice that they haven't joined the caravan.
By the time our third morning rolls around, we're feeling pretty confident. Back pains have abated. Jeans are past cleaning. And we're nearly beyond caring about such trivialities as hot showers and flush toilets.
All too soon, we've moved in sight of the farm.
"I hate for this to end," Carol says. "I'm going to miss my camel."
"Maybe we should have gone for the five-day safari," one of the kids suggests.
Now there's an idea. Then again, maybe it's best to get back in a real bed while this is still a fond memory, and not a rocky horror picture show.
HOW TO FIND A CAMEL TREK * Getting there: Australia's camel culture centers around the Outback. The easiest entry point is Alice Springs, which is served by Qantas and sometimes other airlines. Other camel activities are available in the southern Outback, reached via Port Augusta. Traveling from the United States, Qantas sometimes offers passes that include flights to the country and around it at a reasonable price. www.qantas.com.
* When to go: It's best to visit the Outback in their winter, April to September. Avoid fly season.
CAMEL EXPERIENCES Many companies offer short camel rides, and several offer excursions that include a camel ride plus dinner. You will find several options in Alice Springs and at Uluru (formerly Ayer's Rock). * We traveled with Camels Australia, owned by Jayne and Neil Waters and located between Alice Springs and Uluru. We found them gentle and knowledgeable, with reasonable prices. Options range from half-hour walks in the farm yard to five-day treks. Visiting the farm is free, and a great place to check out camels and their relatives (llamas and alpacas), plus Outback animals that are either pets or injured, including emus, kangaroos and a dingo. Our three-day camel trek cost AD $450 adult and $375 ages 12 and under (about $335 and $280 respectively) and included the camels, guide, simple meals and a swag - a bedroll for sleeping under the stars. Bus transfer to/from Alice Springs costs $50 and is arranged through Camels Australia. Info: Camels Australia, www.camels-australia.com.au; (011-61-8) 8956-0925. * Outback Camel Company offers walking expeditions with camels across the Simpson Desert lasting 12-28 days. www.camelexpeditions.com; (011-61-7) 3854-1022. * Frontier Camel Tours, near Alice Springs, offers one-hour rides and dinner excursions. http://cameltours.ananguwaai.com.au; (011-61-8) 8950-3030. * Sahara Adventures offers camping tours that include a visit to a camel farm. www.saharaadventures.com.au; (011-61-2) 8252-5333 or 800-290-8687. * Outback Safaris' tours also include camel rides. www.outbacksafaris.com. * Camel races: Camel racing is a serious betting sport in the Outback. The exception is the popular Alice Springs Camel Cup each July, a charity event that draws thousands of visitors. The next cup is July 14, 2007. www.camelcup.com.au; (011-61-8) 8952-3459. INFORMATION * Australia tourism, www.australia.com; 800-965-6252. * Central Australia, www.centralaustraliantourism.com; (011-61-8) 8952-5800. * Southern Australia, www.southoz.com; 888-768-8428.
MORE ABOUT CAMELS IN AUSTRALIA * Dromedary (one-humpers) * Brought by settlers in the 19th century * Today, 400,000-700,000 remain; they are used for tourism and food. (Tastes pretty good in well-marinated steaks and sausage.) * Live 40-50 years * Can carry half its body weight for 6-8 hours per day * Hump contains fat, not water * Despite rumors to the contrary, they are sold to Jordan for meat - not their racing prowess - Sources: Neil Waters of Camels Australia, "Camels of Australia" by Bill Barlow
