May 23, 2014 -- Updated 0936 GMT (1736 HKT)
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you to extraordinary women of our time. Each month, we meet two women
at the top of their field, exploring their careers, lives and ideas.
(CNN) -- A lone blonde woman, wrapped in nothing but
a sarong, leads four camels and a little dog across one of the most
uninhabitable environments on Earth.
Startlingly beautiful,
with skin roasted a deep chestnut from the desert sun, the petite
26-year-old in flimsy leather sandals appears the unlikeliest adventurer
for a nine-month expedition across the Australian outback.
Appearances can be deceiving.
Click to expand
In 1977, Robyn Davidson
trekked 2,700 kilometers from Alice Springs to the Indian Ocean, armed
with little more than a map and a rifle, in a landscape which had
destroyed many a hardened explorer before her.
Adventurers are often asked why they push themselves to the human body's limits.
"It's only in hindsight
that there's any psychologizing of it," Davidson tells me in between
bites of her croissant, at a trendy inner-city London café on a humid
spring morning.
"At the time it just seemed like a perfectly sensible, good thing to do. Above all else, it was pleasurable."
And in an age of instant
communication, where you are never far from a text message, tweet or
Facebook post, perhaps Davidson has a lesson for us all.
"I disappeared but I've never felt so alive," she says in her soft Australian accent.
Making Tracks
It's no coincidence
these punishing red plains are nicknamed the country's "dead heart." A
place where temperatures can exceed a scorching 120F and the nearest
town is often hundreds of kilometers away.
The Aboriginals called Davidson the "desert woman," and her epic journey caught the attention of National Geographic photographer Rick Smolan -- who became both her documenter and lover.
His intimate images of
the intrepid young woman -- tenderly feeding her camels, or swimming in a
rare watering hole -- helped make it one of the most popular photo
essays in the magazine's history.
It plunged the girl who
grew up on a cattle station in remote Queensland into the international
spotlight -- her outback odyssey became the toast of New York.
Davidson's book detailing the marathon mission, called "Tracks,"
has since sold over one million copies, bringing to life the beauty and
brutality of a landscape mysterious to many outside Australia -- and
indeed to the majority of people living in the country's coastal cities.
The book has now been
turned into a feature film, with actor Mia Wasikowska possessing an
unnerving resemblance to the real-life desert woman.
A literary life
Wearing a crisp white shirt, Davidson's broad face remains unmarked by a lifetime in the sun.
At 63-years-old, she is
still as quietly striking as those images of a fair-haired girl on
camel-back staring fiercely into the camera three decades ago.
How do you follow an
expedition of such epic proportions? In her late 20s, Davidson moved to a
shoe factory in London's East End, of all places.
For me it was more of a merging into, entering into, becoming part of
Robyn Davidson
Robyn Davidson
She fell in with a
literary circle that included housemate and celebrated author Doris
Lessing, and boyfriend-of-three-years Salman Rushdie.
A nomad at heart, Davidson lived across the world, shifting like the sands of her impressive landscapes.
Now she's back in the UK
capital to write her memoirs -- about as far away as you can get from
her extreme pilgrimages, including two years traveling with nomads in north-west India in the 1990s.
Pleasure and pain
"Why not?" has become
Davidson's enduring response to why she ventured into Australia's great
unknown in the 1970s an era before.
Where other people might
see a vast expanse of arid nothingness, Davidson saw the desert as a
"limitless garden," a place "teeming with life."
It was a desert she traversed without GPS trackers and high-tech camping kit.
Learning bush skills
from the aboriginal communities she met along the way, Davidson ate
witchetty grubs -- which to the easily-queasy might resemble enormous
maggots.
She quickly learned not to trust her maps in this unchartered landscape, and instead followed animal tracks towards water.
Not bad for the girl who
police initially wouldn't register a rifle to, because they thought
they'd have to go chasing after her when she got lost.
Real-life romance
Even Smolan -- the
27-year-old photographer who spent three months with Davidson at
intermittent points throughout the journey -- was convinced that each
time he looked back at her in his rear view mirror, it would be the
last.
"There were herds of
wilds animals, crazy people out there," he says over the phone, the
sound of traffic blaring in the background of his native New York.
"Her camels could have
thrown her, she could have broken a leg, she could have gotten lost.
It's the kind of place where if you take the wrong road, after three
weeks you come to a fence and find you're out of water."
Much is made in the film
of the pair's romantic coupling, but in the searing heat it was a
relationship tempered by more complex emotions -- some still raw for
Smolan.
"I was resistant to Rick
because I felt I'd sold out to National Geographic," says Davidson, who
never intended to write about her personal pilgrimage at all.
"He's a sweetie, but
hopeless in the desert. But when you are forced to deal with somebody,
you either kill them or you learn tolerance. And we're still very good
friends so... I think it forged a very deep friendship actually."
She had no idea how beautiful she was
Rick Smolan
Rick Smolan
Smolan has a different take: "It was much more of a romance -- at least on my side -- then it was in the movie."
"I was pretty smitten
and you can see that in the photographs," he says of the "intense and
fascinating woman who didn't want me there."
"She had no idea how
beautiful she was. Several times I developed my pictures and brought
them out to show her, thinking I could win her over -- because most
women like it when you show them how beautiful they are. And I remember
being really stunned that the more beautiful my pictures where of her,
the more she hated them.
"She just said: 'I'm not some god dammed model out here."
Four-legged family
Was Davidson's real
adoration for her faithful dog Diggity and four camels, a type of
ramshackle circus family inching across the desert together?
"The love story of the
movie is much more between her and the dog, than her and me," says
Smolan, chuckling good-naturedly. "This little dog was like her
protector. If there were snakes, if there were intruders... Diggity had
her back."
But why camels? "They're
the perfect form of transport," explains Davidson matter-of-factly in
her book. "One sees little by car, and horses would never survive the
hardships of desert crossings."
This was not about
conquering nature, she says, bristling at the suggestion. Instead,
Davidson wanted to meld into the environment, her skin slowly turning
the same reddish brown as the ancient lands she walked.
"Maybe for men it's a
longing to conquer something. They conquer the mountain, they conquer
something in themselves. I never felt that way. For me it was more of a
merging into, entering into, becoming part of."
Tough love
At the time it just seemed like a perfectly sensible, good thing to do
Robyn Davidson
Robyn Davidson
She'd see other
travelers "hurtling through the desert in a four-wheel drive, with
two-wave radios, and iceboxes, and think -- why bother?"
"My procedure across that desert was about getting rid of stuff -- both physically and metaphorically."
Did that include the memory of her mother's suicide when she was 11-years-old, as suggested in the film?
Davidson sighs, and you get the feeling it's a diagnosis she's heard many times before.
"It kind of seems to say
that for a woman to have done anything extraordinary, she has to be a
bit strange, or have something to work out, or there has to be some sort
of dark thing in her past.
"I don't think my mother's death had much to do with it at all, frankly."
Myth and memory
These days, where even
NASA astronauts can tweet every step of their missions to millions
across the world, Davidson's slow and deeply personal journey feels all
the more rare -- and mysterious.
"It's a tale with mythical elements," she says, her gray eyes revealing the only hint of sun damage on her serene face.
"If you think of all the
enduring stories in the world, they're of journeys. Whether it's Don
Quixote or Ulysses, there's always this sense of a quest -- of a person
going away to be tested, and coming back."
How lucky we are she did.
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