Since coming to the country, I realise I’ve been an “urban” driver for the last 3 decades of my life. It’s been a very long time since I’ve had to travel on a 2-way road, you know the ones where you purposefully put your vehicle on the wrong side of the road, at 100km/hour + and into the path of oncoming traffic, to overtake another car. My old life was dual carriageway bliss, where my biggest issue was cursing people driving slowly (or even at the speed limit) in the “fast” lane.
In the country, there are no dual carriageway roads. There’s a few overtaking lanes here and there, but for the most part, it’s me in my Suzuki. Which, BTW, I’m increasingly thinking is more affiliated to a bunch of recycled coke cans, both in colour (red with white bits), and in structural integrity (who will come off better at 100km/hour – Sammy the Suzuki or a large kangaroo | wild boar | truck | Toyota with bulbar etc??).
The trucks here are enormous. They have bright, cheerful yellow signs on them that read “ROAD TRAIN” which doesn’t truly describe how terrifying these vehicles actually are. I suppose they don’t have room to write “this truck is as long as a football field and you can overtake, but please be aware you’re taking your life into your own hands and you may very well die”. They travel the inland route from “down south” (must look that place up) to Darwin, Mt Isa, Longreach etc, and they pass right on through the main streets of Dalby.
You don’t truly appreciate how long a “Road Train” is, until you’ve dropped back into 4th gear, hit 120km an hour on the overtake, the taco is red-lining, you’ve passed 2 of the “trailers” only to realise there’s another trailer and the truck (which, BTW, is called a tractor) to go.
And then, in the distance, you see something in the oncoming lane. You’re not really sure what it is (because, let’s face it, you’re over 40, your eyesight’s dodgy, your blood pressure is through the roof at this point, and there’s this heat haze/shimmer thing going on). So you floor it. But the little Suzuki, sports model and all, well she giving it all she’s got Captain (hey there Trekkies ?). You inch past the damn road train monster, in slow motion. About now, the cattle in the back of the trailer look at you mournfully – they are saying to me: “yes, you’re going to die, we’re going to die, let’s all die together” (we are soul sisters at this point). But despite the negativity coming from the cattle, you finally make it past the innocuously titled ‘road train’, only to find that the oncoming vehicle is still a few kms away (stoopid heat haze), your breathing is ragged, but you are alive.
Made it! I live. I’m invincible!. You stop hyperventilating. After a while, you start to congratulate yourself “awesome driving there Kari. Love the way you smacked back the gears. You got balls the size of Texas girl. Great eyesight too by the way.” But then, through the haze, what’s that in the distance? OMG, it’s another truck. Repeat step one. I’m too old for this shit!
The Tepid Travellers 