Road Trip North

 It was a wild drive up with the rain flooding down, and pressed between the wind and my window in a stream down the side of my car.  

I hadn’t slept well because my last vaccination was reading me it’s symptomatic rights.  

At 110 km per hour, I was passing a road train. There had been twenty meters visibility for the last few kilometres.  It was pretty quiet out here, but I should have been wiser than to push the limit.  

I always give truckies enough visibility before I take over.   I have respect for people who know the roads and have clocked up more kilometres than most.  And they know how to negotiate a big rig.  

And he did.  He could see that the water on the side of the road was more than it seemed.   

I keep right in the lane when I overtake, and I was two wheels in the water.  

My car is a beauty.  She never lets me down.  But then orange lights were flashing on my dash that I’ve never seen before. The cruise tried to hold me but it cut, and I was ten then twenty kilometres short of what I had been making.  The truckie knew it, and I pulled back.  I waited for a stretch with less water and tried it again.  Again, I lost traction and I worked with the car to hold steady.  I was between the road train and the safety wires.  The truckie pulled left.  His weight was keeping him safe.  Third time lucky.  

Eight hours and 700km later I pulled in, more tired than I expected.  

This morning is a different day.  My immunisation symptoms were literally sickening last night, so I’m playing it safe.  My stomach this morning raged between ravenous and reluctant. 

Who would have thought, in this tiny town, there would be a cafe with the ethics I admire.  I sat down a table across from three locals.  Listening to them talk about the land, cooking, their families and connections.  They are softly spoken, with a deep knowledge that connects theory with practice.  The subtleties that show thoughtfulness, care and that combination of colloquialism and good vocabulary.  Personal comments that explain facts, rather than protect ego.  

“You haven’t had a dog, have you?”  

“I had a dingo.”

I think that’s what I miss.  That authenticity that goes beyond bombast; the lack of augmented thrill. 

Today, the forecast is clear.  I can hear the truck’s air brakes on the highway twenty kilometres from here.  

When you reach that time when people don’t call you as often, so you set your own distance.  Sometimes there is nothing that is as great as your own terms.  Although almost everything conditions us otherwise.