In Longreach, I slept badly, tossing, turning, waking at midnight to find myself sleepwalking outside the van
Frantically searching for what I have forgotten to do is a reoccurring nightmare I indulge in.
It is triggered by anxiety about upcoming travel or other stresses.
Aged care worker Sue in the next van, probably set me searching. She had heard a knock in the Pelimobile’s engine on startup.
This motivated me to check that out before setting off on the long haul to NT
Using the mobile phone on speaker to brother Jeff in Wodonga, then son Danny in Swan Hill, the Pelimobile broadcasted across the miles into their mechanically experienced ears.
Like me, both thought the motor had always sounded like that.
Just to be on the safe side seeking a third opinion, I repacked the van and drove back down to the obliging bloke who earlier that day had checked my tyres.
He said “nah, it’s just a rattily old diesel truck, not a 4wd Toorak Tractor, don’t worry about it!”
He also said with a wink “Safe travel, young lady, behave yourself, or don’t, if that’s what you want!”
I drove off reassured and laughing.
Next day, I set off dodging the odd fresh roo or wild pig carcasses on the road to Winton, while thanking the Shire workers for having removed stinking old road kill.
Near Winton I stopped to check out the Australian Age of Dinosaurs Museum and worksite.
I drove very slowly and carefully to negotiate the “Jump Up’ or escarpment with the tight hook turns leading into the facility.
I paid for a tour of the laboratory and the air-conditioned theatre presentations, then headed off to the laboratory, following directions from the rather impatient young woman at the desk: “go left from where you are parked out of the car park, to the big gate, on dirt track turn left.”
travel weary from driving all morning, I drove as directed - heading west instead of east.
Then the real Discovery tour promised began.
Immediate left looked like a track to the big shed, I reckoned she would have said walk if that was it, so I went a bit further and took the left fork in the road.
Yes -it was graded - by a trainee driver of a front-end loader I reckon- yes, there were several large badly shaved rock shelves that were invisible until I was about to hit them.
The stuffed Companion Travel Dog began muttering.
I had difficulty hearing as there was so much rattling and crashing happening behind me inside the van.
I spotted a large structure - they are so busy making structures blend into the landscape here that I was on it before I really saw it.
It seemed to be more of a shade shelter than anything else - all very nice looking out into the valley below, with the 38 degree heat in the shade radiating off the shimmering steel structure and no breeze.
I now realize this was where the 4WD safari carts take passengers on the tour down into the Valley of Dinosaurs that I had not paid for.
I backtracked to check out the right-hand fork in the road.
That track must have started out as a Roo or a goat track because it was too narrow for two camels or buffalo side by side.
The start of the track was graded by that trainee front end loader driver - probably scared the hell out of him/her so the job was abandoned.
The further down I went, the more it reverted to the original creator’s configurations, enhanced by wash aways from the rain before Xmas. It had a decided lack of twisting and winding to reduce the increasingly steep gradient.
The banging and crashing behind me in the van increased; the Pelican, Wombat, & Pelimobile joined the dog’s muttering, my pacemaker scar stretched and throbbed.
Things were looking grim.
With thickening scrub either side, I couldn’t see to reverse back.
The track was too narrow to turn on with cliff edges & scrub and a steep decent in front.
I spotted a wee clearing on the left, just beyond a wash away, so headed into that.
Muttering a prayer, telling the dog, Pelican, Wombat and Pelimobile to "shut up and trust my driving", I turned in, then put the Pelimobile into reverse.
Silence, except for much shallow breathing, the beep, beep of the backing light warning.
Sudden shuddering, smell of smoke and slipping wheel spins of the front tires in the sandy wash away added another dimension.
Hell’s bells -stalled, sand bogged, on fire perhaps?
On ignition, the Pelimobile roared loudly pushing us up out of the sand trap.
I quickly removed my lead foot, inched forward again, nudging the scrub, hoping like hell it was only leaves and sticks that I could hear and see dropping on to the bonnet, roof and through open windows.
“Please let there be no disturbed kangaroo ticks looking to hitch a ride with us” I said to my companions.
I took a deep breath, gunned it through the sand trap, while praying the backend & bike rack didn’t teeter us over the cliff edge that I couldn’t see.
Together we made the turn around, crawling up the steep incline slowly while realizing just how steep it had been, and so thankful the weight of the Pelimobile had not taken over to hurl us forward into the Valley of Dinosaurs.
Back on level ground, I stopped to check for damage.
No ticks on the Travel Dog or me.
Heart rate seemed ok, so perhaps I did not send a red flag alert to the medical folk in Melbourne who monitor my status from the unit in the Pelimobile.
I was extremely hot and bothered, but that was to be expected.
Drawers and cupboards in the Pelimobile were open spewing contents all over the place- with a smashed glass jar of semi-dried tomatoes in olive oil spread all over the floor and mat.
Heavy items stashed under the bed at the back had all slid forward to the front of the van.
This probably saved us as it altered the balance when we were if teetering on the cliff edge.
All good really!
So proud of my restraint when back at the shed the tall, slim, snotty, young, immaculately RM Williams outfitted guide said:
“You are not allowed in here! You should be at the Lab!”.
She will never know how close she was to being run over then backed over for good measure!
Without any rancor I said sweetly “but somebody has moved your laboratory!”
She gave me a long blank look and I could see the wheels spinning in her brain.
I reckon she was struggling to restrain herself from looking over her shoulder her to see if I was right.
It was better than any Pauline Hanson ‘Why wasn’t I told??’ look.
Smiling through the grimace in my heart and the hysterical giggle in my chest, I said
“And in future, perhaps you could get on the same side of the counter as a customer when you are pointing and directing so your left is the same as their left, and use key words like big exit gate, big entry gate, east, west. “
Oh, there were so many other questions I wanted to ask her like:
‘Would you have written us up as the youngest dinosaurs found in the valley when you found us and would my Companion Dog & Pelimobile be a new species?
“Do you wait until the hawks and crows start circling before you go find those in your care or would you have waited to discover my clean picked bones and those of the Travel Dog, Pelican, Wombat and Pelimobile?”
“As a scientist, just how long do you think I would have lasted in mid-morning 38degree heat, walking or wounded, before I was missed or found?”
“Duty of Care, I am half an hour late for a tour, don’t you workers check with each other at all sites to ensure all who have paid turn up?”
“Were we destined to be part of your future moonlight tours a la Waltzing Matilda ?
“Grannie Yevie from Gooligulch driving a Pelimobile, Driving a Pelimobile, Drove off a Cliff into the Valley of Dinosaurs, Valley of Dinosaurs.....and their ghosts may be heard, when you look out across the valley, revving a Pelimobile, revving a Pelimobile....”
Giving her the Xmas wave sans tinsel, saying nothing more, I headed East to the Lab to find it a well-run place with world class significant discoveries and research being done.
http://www.australianageofdinosaurs.com/
I recommend a visit if you are up this way, but always check and double check the directions and ensure you and the directee are on the same side of the counter