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LOADED4X4.COM.AU
OPINION: RAY CULLY
the enjoyment of the drive as
opposed to showing off in the car
and gravitated toward race clubs
and drive days on closed circuit
tracks and even into competitive
driving events.
But then I met a girl. A girl
with a dad who preferred the road
less travelled. Yes, it was time for
my first 4WDrive outing!
I vividly remember a bunch of
teenagers; sardine squeezed into
the back of a Toyota 55 series
wagon – man, that was one ugly
vehicle! Driving down onto a
beach which resembled a fourlane
highway and was just as
hard, no problem. But getting out
to air DOWN the tyres?
Had her dad lost his mind? He
wanted to drive this behemoth of
a vehicle on flat tyres, seriously?
I began to question this family’s
sanity. Was I the only one
seeing this action as irrational?
Remember, I was a blacktop
purest with no exposure to what
lies beyond the well-formed kerbs
of tourist lookout car parks.
Seeing my dubious
expression, I got invited to ride
shotgun. “Great,” I thought, “I’ll
get to see first-hand the stupidity
of our unfolding predicament as
we get this vehicle hopelessly
bogged and spend the rest of the
day trying to free it from the vicelike
grip of the soft sand.”
After all, any idiot knows
that a heavy vehicle will sink
without nice solid bitumen or
concrete under its tyres. I’d
already suffered the pain of
dropping a tyre into soft sand
when I unsuccessfully attempted
a three-point turn on a narrow
country road. It wasn’t something
I wanted to repeat unnecessarily.
“As my hand nervously
hovered over the door
handle, I wondered
should I tuck and roll
or stay, gambling that
I would survive this
surreal event.”
Back to the 55 Wagon with
flat tyres, Dad said with a happy
grin, “Time for low range”.
Noticing this vehicle had two gear
levers, its cool factor climbed
considerably, but not enough to
have me believe it could bend the
laws of physics.
Then, horror of horrors, he
selected THIRD gear – “Oh lord
does this man know anything?”
Expecting a big bunny hop
and the engine to stall, I was
gobsmacked as we moved off
effortlessly and the big 55 moved
its way slowly along the beach
like some prehistoric creature
trundling toward the valley
between two large dunes. Seeing
the sand slowly turning from
smooth compact ground to soft
powder, I closed my eyes and
waited for the vehicle to inevitably
grind to a halt. I wondered how
many shovels we’d need.
As the engine began to labour
slightly, my smug, self-righteous
adolescence attitude must have
been showing, as that crazy
fool tapped me on the shoulder
pointed to the top of a steep soft
dune and maniacally grinned,
“That’s where we’re headed.”
As my hand nervously
hovered over the door handle, I
wondered should I tuck and roll
or stay, gambling that I would
survive this surreal event. How
on earth will this lump of lard
crest that dune like a search and
rescue boat on high seas? “OMG!
He’s going to kill all of us”, I
swung abruptly, expecting to see
Ray never travels alone.
my panic reflected in the back
seat. The fools were oblivious
to their imminent doom; happily
chatting and admiring the view.
The 55’s nose began to lift,
there was a bump from the rear
wheels, and we began the ascent.
Like a plane leaving the tarmac,
we were committed to the climb.
Ever steeper, the beach fell away,
the sand tilted and there was
nothing but pure blue sky visible
in the windscreen.
I could no longer hold back,
yelling “Oh my lord” just as the