Australia’s Highs and Lows: Lake Eyre & Mount Kosciuszko

We were supposed to be in Papua in April 2025. Puncak Jaya was on the calendar. But after years of delays, Reagan canceled on us again. So, we pivoted. If Oceania’s highest peak wasn’t going to happen, we’d chase Australia’s extremes instead: the lowest point on the continent (Lake Eyre) and the highest (Mount Kosciuszko).

Lake Eyre — The Lowest Point

We flew into Coober Pedy, the opal-mining town famous for its underground homes, and picked up our 4x4. The rental lady was unforgettable — she gave us snakebite instructions, warned us about flooded roads, and even pinned Yodi with the state flower of South Australia. Her kindness felt like a blessing before the journey began.

The road into the Outback stretched wide and empty. We made it to the pull-off for Lake Eyre, only to find it closed. A gate, locked, adventure stopped cold.

But luck favors persistence. Back in town, we stopped at Wright Air, where a kind woman mentioned she knew the pastoral station that owned the road. She gave us their number. A call later, we had permission to drive around the fence and attempt the approach.

No one had been out the road there in weeks — not since the last rains, let alone the basin which hadn’t been visited since the year prior. Lake Eyre only floods about once a decade, and when it does, the desert transforms into a mud trap. The road could have been anywhere from soggy to impassable. But we had a satellite phone, the station’s number, and Wright Air on speed dial. We decided to go for it.

The drive was tense, the kind of silence where you’re listening to every rattle of the tires, wondering if the next patch of ground will hold. But the land held. The sky opened, endless and blue. Eventually, we reached the shoreline.

We walked out into the basin — the lowest point on the Australian continent. Crusted salt crunched under our boots, the horizon shimmering. For a moment, it felt like standing on another planet.

Mount Kosciuszko — The Highest Point

After another week exploring the Outback — from the geographical center of Australia to Uluru and every red dirt road we could find — we flew from Coober Pedy to Adelaide, spent a few days running and shopping, then headed east.

From Sydney, we drove down to Jindabyne, the cutest little lakeside town. By luck, an outdoor art walk was happening, so we ran a few 5Ks along the lake, weaving through installations before heading into Kosciuszko National Park.

From there, it was simple: a chairlift ride up, and then a short stroll to the top of Mount Kosciuszko (7,310 ft), the tallest peak in Australia. Unlike every other summit I’ve done, this wasn’t an epic grind. No crampons, no vomit, no sleepless nights. Just a walk in the park. But standing there was still special — a reminder that “highest” doesn’t always mean “hardest,” and that sometimes the joy of climbing is simply in seeing a new corner of the world.