I have decided I am one of those people who love their big 4WD vehicle but have no idea about how they work.
You know the type. The person who drives their big vehicle around the city but never uses the vehicle for its purpose. I love our big vehicle, without side boards so only people with long legs can get in easily. The vehicle that has power but never sees mud or sand or outback tracks.
In Britain we called them 'Chelsea Tractors', loved by the well to do mothers who used them to drop their children off at private schools. But in Australia they are far more common, however, a fair number do not ever see an outback track.
But I am digressing about what happened to us.
Walter put the car into 4WD in order to reverse over the gutter so that we could hitch the caravan. However, he forgot to put it back into 2WD. Then I got into the car, and did not check. Off we went.
Now I should have noticed that the car was not handling as well as it should, but I failed to do so. On the fairly straight road, both expressway and going through the city, all appeared well. Although we did notice that now and again there was a smell of burning tar. This we blamed on the wreck in front of us, and then later a truck carrying tar.
Finally after 53 km a woman pulled us over and said she could see smoke coming from the car. Panic. We had no idea what was causing it, and feared for the worst.
The northern express is a busy highway with very fast moving vehicles, and not all of them have careful drivers. Quite scary.
I got out of the car with Piper and we walked down the hill. Walter, with his dodgy knee, had to stay in the car and brave the traffic. It was hot. The bottom of the hill was covered in rubbish. We were scared.
The RAA tow truck turned up fairly quickly, thank goodness, to tow us somewhere safe. The road is too dangerous for them to look at a vehicle on the side of the highway.
The driver put the car on the back of the track, and hitched the caravan to the truck. We had to clamber up the steep steps into the cab; me, Walter with his dodgy knee, and Piper. Piper was terrified of it all. Walter managed very well.
Where to? We decided to go to the caravan park in Bolivar, only 5 minutes away, and set up the caravan there, and wait on the RAA repair person to have a look at the car.
The outcome. There was nothing wrong with the car! Everything worked perfectly. The brakes were as good as new. As were the tyres. The motor purred smoothly. It was then I noticed that the car was in 4WD mode. An embarrassing moment.
Two calls to the dealer and plenty of Google searches confirmed that the car had not suffered any drastic damage. We were told driving on the tarmac in 4WD mode was like driving it continuously through sand.
And yes, the car has been brilliant since. However, we have not tried the 4WD mode again.
Perhaps I need to take a 4WD course.
I must admit that I am talking forty years ago, and certainly the place has changed considerably. There are now housing developments on the other side of the road. The caravan park has had a revamp. We stayed in the very upmarket tourist part, with the larger part that holds the permanent and semi permanent residents looking very smart as well.
Unfortunately the caravan park is now between two highways, the northern expressway plus the old Port Wakefield highway. There is a constant hum of traffic. But still, we were impressed.
The recreation hall and kitchen overlooks the outside deck and swimming pool.
We went for a couple of drives around, in order to make sure the car was not going to conk out completely. I hardly recognised areas, which were once fields, and were now housing or light industrial areas.
We went for a couple of drives around, in order to make sure the car was not going to conk out completely. I hardly recognised areas, which were once fields, and were now housing or light industrial areas.
Plus parks,
and wetlands.
Such a lovely time of discovery.
And all ended well, thank goodness.
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