Free at last, Free at last! It’s blowing, and raining. I’m tired and sore all over, but I have gravel under my wheels, and that’s more than enough to make me happy today. I woke with the dawn to see what kind of shape I was in. It wasn’t pretty, but I had a plan. I would take all the weight out of the back (my three heavy tool boxes). I had three rubber door mats. I would jam these under the wheels. These would give me grip, and I’d be on my way in no time. It was a good plan, but it needed another step. I needed the van to levitate itself and move backwards 6” onto the mats. Harry Potter could have sorted this out in a jiffy with “stuckvan liftulum”. I tried this a few times, but I guess there’s a knack to it, either that or a piece of rotting pine stick doesn’t serve as a functioning wand. I had no option other than to dig. Three hours later and I had got the van to move… but only a couple of feet in total. I recalled how slowly the trenches in the front line moved during the Great War. The calculation was made of how many soldiers would be required to get to Berlin at that rate of progress. It was many times more that Earth’s entire population… I didn’t have enough soldiers either. My man-pride was going to take a hammering, but I walked up to the road to flag down anyone in a four wheel drive. Cars only passed about every 10 minutes. There’s not much traffic on a road that goes nowhere, and I’d passed the “No Exit” sign about 5km back. Of the few vehicles passing, most were ‘town’ cars, neat and tidy, probably tourists like me, but of no use to me at all. I saw the perfect ute coming down the hill. The driver had his woollen hat on, and his dog was in the back. I waved excitedly, and he waved back just as enthusiastically, then he was around the corner and gone. I had more success about half an hour later. I waved down a ute with two young women in it. They couldn’t help me, their back tyres were bald, but they txt’d their uncle and said me he’d be down to give me a hand. Hone rolled up a little later, and after 30 minutes or so of dragging three and a half tonnes of reluctant steel forwards and backwards it sprang from the trap and I followed him, like an overweight dog dragging on a lead, to firm ground. There was nothing elegant about the brute force involved in pulling the van free. He knew what he was doing, and I didn’t, so we did it his way… and wrenched the van sideways from the bog. I thanked him profusely and offered him the contents of my pockets for his trouble. He just took twenty dollars, leaving two other notes in my hand, saying that was plenty. If he’d asked for $200 I’d have gladly paid him (though perhaps not quite so cheerfully). I sat back with a cuppa and a Moro (Mars) bar, recouping, then dragged everything back into its place in the van and rolled happily away. I was only a couple of km’s from Nukutaurua, so I pulled in at a parking bay there, at the far West end of the beach, by the waterfall. I checked and re-check the gravel before venturing onto it. Ten minutes later I was asleep. After a big serve of Irish stew, buttered bread, and a coffee I surveyed the damage. There was stinking mud on everything I’d used, and that included me. I took the doormats down to a rock pool and gave them a good scrub… and me too. In no time at all the mats were useable again (very important for keeping the van clean clean) but the once pristine rock pool was all muddied. However, I was happy even if the local molluscs weren’t. … and that’s where I am now, sitting ‘on the hard’ on Nukutaurua beach, recalling something I heard a couple of days ago. Back at Hi-de-Hi’s the nice lady had mentioned the laundry using $2 coins. I need a laundry now, and she has exactly the type of washing machine you need for a job like this… someone else’s! A hot shower and clean clothes… time to move. Pictures later, when I’ve got a better connection.
Posted on: Sun, 18 Aug 2013 02:44:09 +0000
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