The decision to be in the 1988 Mardi Gras was a very spontaneous one. As was often the case a group of Sydney expatriates were regaling some of the other locals with tales of our former lives in the Australian gay mecca. I guess, like in many isolated communities, this was the normal way that we passed on our myths and culture. There was a lot of wishing that we could be there for it, but we also knew that the airfare to Sydney was outside the reach of most. In those days there were no discount fares.

I can't remember who, but someone came up with the wild idea that if we could find the time and pool our resources it might be possible to drive down. Within a short space of time we had worked out that we had the means and enough interest to make a go of it. Once the decision was taken to get there it didn't take long before we decided we had to be part of the parade. The idea of a group of us driving roughly 3,000 kilometres to Sydney for the event and not making sure to let them know what we had done became inconceivable.

The next issue was how would we present ourselves to our audience. A lot of wild and wonderful ideas were thrown around, including the use of camels, horses and cowboy outfits, a papier mache model of Uluru on a truck, and just about everything else you could imagine. Finally we settled on the idea of a 'Desert Devils' walking group. It probably won out on the basis of Alice being as hot as hell and that the costumes would be cheap and easy to source.

Tasks were allocated; finding red shorts and singlets, and hats with horns. We workshopped slogans for the tops and had them lettered, and held banner-painting sessions. Paul, always a dab hand on the Janome, made the tails stiffened with coathangers and elastic waist bands for security. The banner bore our theme; "Alice Springs, Hot as Hell", and the singlets proclaimed a series of messages including; "Alice Springs: Hellishly Hot and Devilishly Decadent", "I Burnt My Lips in Alice Springs", "Horny Devil from Alice Springs", I Got Hot in Alice Springs" and, for our sole lesbian member; "Alice Springs' Hottest Devil Dyke".

Jim, Paul, John, Craig & Crystal

In the end there were five of us to travel down; Jim, Paul and me, Craig and Crystal. We also seconded a couple of guys who had visited Alice from Sydney and would join us on the night to swell the numbers to a great big seven.

The trip was quite an ordeal - five of us and everything we needed crammed into our old station wagon. Hoping to get there as quickly as possible we had decided to drive non-stop. So, we kept the back seat down to allow two drivers to sleep in the back while the other two kept the current driver entertained and awake in the front. We drove down to Port Augusta in a day and a night, and then across the Riverina to my mother's place in Albury.

When we got there we had all been cooped up in the car without a bed or shower for over two days. The sight (and smell) that greeted my mother must have been overwhelming! She just stood on the front step and watched us slowly disentagle ouselves from the car, tumbling out dazed and confused into her front garden. Unflappable as always, she simply said; "You'd better all come inside and start showering". Then, taking in the gender mix, added; "Who sleeps with who, so I can organise the bedding?"

We spent a day and night in Albury to recover from our flight out of the desert and get ready to hit Sydney. While we were there we took in a luxury rarely experienced in Alice and went swimming in Lake Hume - the most water any of us had seen in years. We also chanced upon a local boating store clearing out-of-date emergency flares and scored a few of those to add to our parade resources. And we transmitted a little more culture to our younger members by taking them on a tour of local beats. It was all pretty innocent, and a mix of hilarity and delighted panic broke out when our headlight flashes in the carpark drew rapid and insistent responses from some hopeful soul.

Rested and partly recovered we continued on our way up the highway to Sydney. It was pretty dull until Sydney came into view and the excitement level rose markedly. That quickly evolved into a fair degree of tension as we negotiated afternoon peak hour traffic; something none of us had experienced for a few years. Eventually we managed to drop Jim off at his host's place and made our way to a small unit in Rockdale where Paul and I would be staying with a drag queen friend of his called Betty. Craig and Crystal arrived there with us but, given how tight the space was, were soon despatched to one of Crystal's relatives in the outer west.

Over the next few days until the parade we all took delight in spending time apart. There was lots of going out and getting trashed and taking in the various festival events on offer. We also reported as instructed to the Mardi Gras workshop, then located in Rushcutters Bay. But, when we got there, it was quickly apparent that our visit wasn't really necessary. It was just that the queens in the workshop wanted reassurance that we were for real, and to check us out! Although we didn't take out cowboy hats with us, they were obviously pleased to meet us and discover that the Alice Springs entry wasn't just a hoax.

Then, before we knew it, the night had come. We gathered at our designated assembly point adjacent to the NSW Art Gallery replete with horn and tails, and large amounts of Dutch courage as befits Centralian custom. At first we thought it was just our unsophisticated drinking habits - pouring wine into each other's mouths from a cask bladder, however it soon became clear that there was a great deal of interest in us from the other parade entrants just because of who we were.  Word seemed to spread up and down the marshalling area, and crowds came to say hello and make sure what they had heard was true. It felt a bit like a freak show at first, but we soon realised that there was a genuine and very warm level of interest; even amazement, that a group had come all the way from Alice to be a part of Sydney's big gay event.

If the surprise and enthusiastic curiousity of the other entrants was a bit intimidating, the reaction of the crowd as we made our way in the parade was completely overwhelming! Jim recalled his impressions of rounding the corner from College Street into Oxford:

We didn't march in the parade; we bounced, and danced and jumped and screamed our way through it. We blew whistles and whooped ourselves hoarse. There were no barricades to keep the crowds back and they surged forward at every opportunity to greet us. We were slapped on the back, kissed, cuddled and grabbed, again and again. And the question we were asked a hundred times over was; "Are you really from Alice Springs?". If we thought it was amazing that we had made it there, Sydney was absolutely ecstatic about the idea. People who had lived in or visited the Centre, or were only thinking about it, came running out of the crowd to tell us who they were. I can't believe any of us were ever as popular before or after that night.

Just when we thought the crowd couldn't get any more excited we remembered the flares. I suspect no-one had previously thought of carrying flares in the parade, and they were certainly banned in later years. Well, didn't the crowd just love it? With one short scratch that whole end of Oxford Street began to glow bright red; the brightest point of which was us. Anticipating that the flares might make an impact we had brought three of them, and so were able to repeat the event a couple more times before the end. The biggest reaction of all came when we set our last one off in the middle of Taylor Square.

Finally we made it to the end of the parade and could stop for a few minutes. But we were still surrounded by spectators and others participants who wanted to greet us and have their photo taken with the group. Inside the party and all through the night it was the same. Everywhere we went we were mobbed.

The party was wild, as they always are. And we all had a simply amazing night, especially our youngest charges for whom it was all a complete and wonderful revelation. No party favours were required. We all had enough adrenaline in our systems to keep us going the whole night through, although I'll have to admit I didn't make it right to the end, and crawled out to fall asleep in the back of the station wagon one more time before the others threw in the towel.

The rest of our time in Sydney is still a blur. And the trip back home was much longer and much more painful to undertake without the anticipation that helped carry us to Sydney. But we came home to a hero's welcome and were able to dine out on the stories of our great adventure for weeks to come. It was certainly an event that went down in Alice Springs gay history.

Back in our normal routine the great adventure soon started to drift into the past. But there was still one more bit of excitement reserved for us. Quite unannounced we received an invitation to attend the Mardi Gras awards ceremony. Confused and excited, we rang to find out what it was all about and were stunned to hear that we were to receive a special award for our appearance! It seemed there was no existing category for which we could fairly win a prize, but the committee considered that our dedication to the cause was in need of reward and created a special one just for us.

Financially strained by the trip, none of us were able to make it to Sydney again. So we organised a friend down there to pick it up for us. The plate on the base reads; "Sydney Gay Mardi Gras Association, 1988 Special Parade Award, Central Network Alice Springs." And, it still takes pride of place on the mantelpiece!