February 2015There have been some serious gaps in my postings lately with most of my words and energy having been going into Vintage Caravan Magazine. I had originally written this story to go in issue 24, but I opted not to tell such a sad tale of woe and so I left it out. But let me fill in some gaps by explaining what happened on my last Australian road trip and why you haven't seen me out and about for a while.
Admitting defeat, I back tracked to Coonabarrabran, gave Mitchell back his car, said a sad goodbye to the Cresta and went back to Queensland, feeling sad and deflated.
I called RACQ and my old mate Luke came to the rescue once more. I rolled back into the Narrabri Big Sky Caravan Park with the Commodore on the flat bed and Betty bobbing along behind and they could not believe their eyes, or my bad luck. By then, neither could I. For whatever reason I may never understand, I was slowly coming to the realization that this trip just wasn’t meant to be. I shed some tears, but I accepted my fate and felt thankful for small mercies. I was safe, I had good people around me to help, and road trips are what road trips are; unpredictable snippets of time where things quite often don’t go as planned, but the unplanned detours along the way and the amazing characters you meet as a consequence are usually what makes the whole adventure so worthwhile.
So I bravely decided to give it a third shot, hooked up the van and set off yet again.
I stopped at the post office on my way out and when I walked back to the car I noticed that the van seemed to be sitting up unusually high in the front end, even with the weight distribution bars on. Something was not right… I took a closer look and noticed that the bolts that hold the caravan onto the chassis had pulled clear through the floor and there was nothing holding her on to the chassis at all in the front half. The badly made chassis that had only been put on two years ago was only made out of 2mm thick steel and now had a 50mm bend in the middle of it and resembled a banana!.Had I driven a few more hundred kilometres down the road, the results could have been catastrophic. I thanked the caravan angels profusely for drawing my attention to this potential horror before it was too late and turned back once again.
I am pleased to say that trip was a bit more successful. Life is still good…