The new outback walk offering an Uluru experience almost nobody gets to see

I wake to the roll of thunder. Sitting up in bed, I can hardly believe my eyes. Not only does a downpour in the desert feel like a contradiction, but the fact that I'm watching the sun rising over Australia's most iconic natural landform from a perspective few others have had makes it seem even more surreal.

Our guides can't believe it either. Never sighting rain here themselves, they tell us we're about to join the "1 per cent Club" - a colloquial term given to the small percentage of visitors who witness rain falling on Uluru.

I'm on the final day of the Uluru-Kata Tjuta Signature Walk. Operated by Tasmanian Walking Company, the five-day walk covering 54 kilometres within World Heritage-listed Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park is Australia's newest walking experience, and perhaps the world's oldest.

Developed over 10 years in close consultation with traditional owners, the Anangu, the multi-day experience launched in April and takes walkers across an ancient landscape, 500 million years in the making.

From the sacred domes of Kata Tjuta to the world-famous sandstone monolith that is Uluru, we've had the rare privilege of walking and staying on Anangu Country, with special access granted by the land's traditional owners.

As we depart Mala Lodge now for "the rock" itself on the final 12 kilometres of our journey, I have a confession to make - I've been carrying a secret with me on the trail. Like a silent stowaway, my undeclared "plus one" rests in the depths of my backpack. Her name was Mel.

Just like in Anangu culture, where grandparents are wisdom bearers who play an important role in caregiving, Mel had been there for me, but now it was my turn to carry her.

A free spirit with a great sense of humour, determination and adventure, my grandmother was a keen explorer of Australia. Uluru held special memories for us as it was a place we had visited together 20 years ago. Carrying her ashes with me now, as part of a longer journey to return them to her hometown in northern NSW, a stop at Uluru seemed fitting, a way to share one last adventure together.

In 2015, when Tasmanian Walking Company co-owner Brett Godfrey walked 150 kilometres from the South Australian border to Uluru with his son and Anangu traditional owners, he was moved by what he found.

"There were just four of us in the middle of nowhere, under this enormous desert sky, and I remember thinking, why doesn't this experience exist for other people?" Brett says. "We fell in love with the place, looking at the stars with nobody else around. We felt incredibly lucky to be given the privilege to walk in this part of Australia."

Taking time with Anangu to choose the right way forward, the name and route were particularly important.

Meaning "going east" in the local dialect, the Uluru-Kakarrara Trail might be new, but the land it weaves through, and the culture of its knowledge holders, is ancient, as traditional owner Tjiangu ("TJ") Thomas, explains on our first day.

"There are three main principles we live by out here. That is, the land, the law and the people, and if those three things are strong, then it's going to be healthy for everybody," Tjiangu says.

He's talking about Tjukrupa ("Chook-orr-pa") - the Anangu's foundational belief system. Stemming from the creation period when ancestral beings were thought to have formed the world, Tjukrupa encompasses religion, law and morality, and acts as a guide for life.

Like children in a classroom, we watch as TJ illustrates points by drawing diagrams in the sand. He's giving us the simplified version of a 30,000-year-old lesson in how to move mindfully over the land.

"From animals, plants, and waterholes to language and kinship, Tjukrupa is our story, and we have an obligation to maintain it," TJ says. "Everything is connected; those spirits are still here, the land is alive - you just need to know how to listen."

Starting off with the 7.4-kilometre Valley of the Winds Circuit, we soon discover how the valley got its name, with wind tunnelling between gaps in Kata Tjuta's 36 towering rock domes, and whispering through the feathery leaves of desert oaks.

As we amble along creek beds, scramble up rock surfaces, and follow the dusty pink path to Karingana lookout, I feel tiny with Kata Tjuta's many "heads" watching over me as I walk through the shadow of the valley. Though the view is incredible from the top, this is an important site for men's business, so we don't take pictures.

Day two is where we really find our feet, starting the next 16.5-kilometre section before dawn. With the temperature dropping to 5 degrees overnight, leaving the comfort of my tent's king-size bed is tough, but reluctance is soon replaced by excitement as we fill our packs with breakfast goodies prepared by our campsite hosts and set off on the trail by torchlight.

While the brisk pace to get us to the top of sand dunes for sunrise returns heat to our legs, and breakfast burritos and flasks of hot coffee add warmth to our bellies, the rare sight of two UNESCO World Heritage sites in the distance also leaves a warm glow.

"Coming up into these dunes really puts things into perspective," says Tasmanian Walking Company guide Caitlin Carroll. "From this vantage point, you not only realise how far you've come but also where you'll end up," she says, pointing to Uluru.

Falling in step with Caitlin later that day, we chat about the subtleties of the shifting landscape.

"This is what I like to call the private part of the walk, because now we're really removed from the distractions of everyday life," she says. "Moving through different ecosystems - from acacia woodlands and mallee scrub to spinifex plains - people start to see it's not a flat, dead desert, there's so much more going on."

It's true. From chirping zebra finches to darting lizards and ants busily building mounds, everywhere you look, the desert is teeming with life. Even animals we don't see - like dingos, emus and snakes - leave clues in the form of tracks.

While day two is focused on fauna, our third day is a chance to really stop and smell the wildflowers. Rounding a bend in the trail, a field of mulla mulla put on a show with their fuzzy heads bobbing in the breeze and purple petals popping against red earth.

Crouching down to get a closer view of my favourite flower, I hear Nan whisper in my ear, "Oh, will you look at the colour on that?!"

While the trail is an opportunity to connect with others, Anangu believe this walk on Country is also a chance to step into an internal dialogue.

"This is an important place for healing the spirit," Anangu Steering Committee chair Tapaya Edwards says. "People will come here and feel the land as they walk through it. The spirit of the Dreaming will wash over them."

Further along, we find physical evidence of the world's oldest continuous living culture in the form of traditional stone cutting tools resting near the trail. "Anangu have told us we can look but ask that we leave them as we find them," Caitlin says.

Later that afternoon, with weary feet and another 16.5 kilometres behind us, we scale one last dune, and are instantly rewarded with the sight of Mala Lodge - the most stylish of our desert digs.

Intended as a progression in luxury, while Tjakura and Tali campsites come with safari-style tents facing Kata Tjuta, shared bathrooms with solar-powered showers and a communal lounge and dining area, Mala Lodge offers an elevated experience, with raised walkways connecting various spaces.

Settling in, I'm delighted to find my pod's ensuite stocked with locally made products by Indigenous-owned skincare brand Yaye, but the real thrill is the rockstar view, with my bedroom's floor-to-ceiling window facing an ever closer Uluru.

After baked treats and welcome drinks at the lounge, the Wellness Pavilion is where I soak in more views from the water tank plunge pool before the spa's massage therapist takes care of tired muscles, an experience that feels delightfully decadent in the desert.

Later, at the lookout, we raise a glass to another sunset before gathering for dinner in one of the wiltjas (shelters). Designed for relaxing, these areas come with reading material, cosy designer sofas and commissioned Indigenous artwork - like Pendant Lights by Tjanpi Desert Weavers. Suspended above our dining table, made with dried native grasses, wool and raffia, the large-scale sculptures woven by women of the Ngaanyatjarra Pitjantjatjara Yankunytjatjara Lands are captivating.

After multiple courses matched with Australian wines, we move outside to join TJ around a crackling campfire as he shares stories, spanning thousands of years.

Just beyond the fire, I think I see a familiar silhouette, and though it may just be smoke in my eyes, or the human-like form of a kurkara tree, I like to think it's Nan, listening in as she looks up to the stars.

After days of walking, this shorter, flatter section to Uluru feels more like a stroll. Perhaps that's why I'm surprised when we reach the rock sooner than expected. Maybe it's the majesty of the monolith washing over me, or the realisation our journey has come to an end - but I'm surprised again when tears roll down my cheeks like the rain trickling down Uluru's face.

TJ leads us along the base to one of Anangu's most sacred sites, Mutitjulu Waterhole. He recounts the creation story that took place here, relating it back to Tjukrupa and just like that, the trail has gone from a straight-forward path between two icons, to a journey that has come full circle.

The writer was a guest of Tasmanian Walking Company