Kamikaze Alley

 A couple of weeks ago a car demolished our letter box.

It's not one of your Townie things that you can't fit a box of beer in, it's a Country one that you almost live in.
The gate is also under constant attack from kamikaze drivers.
 This afternoon one lead footed gentleman attacked my truck as I was arriving home from heroically clearing the Queens Highway from rocks and debris.

He almost beat me to my couch

He lost.

I must admit that this time I was torn between administering first aid and punching his lights out.

I rang the emergency services through gritted teeth, - needless to say they knew where to go.

Now my beautiful chainsaw locker is all bent up.

I think I might start carrying a baseball bat...

Sticky

The tipheads we are carting into are bogholes at the moment.

This one has been levelled off and looks easy. But it is full of soft spots and liquid mud under the top thin crust.

This is where my truck can use it's party piece to become unstuck.

You raise the tray, then slide it back lifting the whole rear of the truck off the ground and out of the hole.

Then by lowering the tray & sliding it out further you can push the whole truck forward about 4 metres at a time.

One must remember to have the handbrake on.

Or you become triumphantly unstuck, and the truck happily rolls off into the distance.

Don't ask me how I know that ...

Memo to Workshop

You will be excited to hear my oil change is due.

Please make sure that the finest oils are in readiness.

These should be made from only the purest organic free range dinosaurs.

The grease gun should be charged with a premium product and lightly warmed before being applied to nipples.

The usual fingernail inspection will apply.

In anticipation etc.
Doddery.

Dropping the car off...

Living a long way from the Garage presents a bit of a logistical problem when it is time for a warrant check.
Not any more ..
Put car on back of truck, pick up on way home...

My Dirty Girl

I am still madly in love with my new truck.
I wash my truck every chance I get.
I polish my truck when we have down time.
I have been getting a bit of grief from the rest of the crew.

Today we started cleaning drains with a digger.

With great glee they watched as the first bucket of stinking ooze sloshed into the tray and streamed down the sides.

Bastards.

This shows why the rest of the crew are in favour of the new truck.
The tray has been slid back and lowered and we have filled a hole with premix, a fairly easy job now that we can use a shovel at shin height.
You can also level it by pretending to be a grader.
In the centre of the headboard, you can see the hinged flap through which you can feed a winch rope.
The winch is hydraulically powered and could probably pull a super tanker off the rocks, or move the Fart debt mountain a metre or two.
Well certainly pull a roller, tractor, or car onto the back.
I have also been pondering the boat launching possibilities...

My new office.
I was duly presented with the keys this morning.
160 delivery K's on the clock.
I joined the crew who had found the sloppiest, muddiest, slip they were clearing.
I managed to prevaricate till we moved to a dryer one, backed into position, and the first bucket full of rubble hit the deck.
My truck is a virgin no more.
I even did a bit of overtime.

Today I got a glimpse of my virgin bride.
Though I have seen her before only once, I'd know that tray anywhere.
She was off to New Plymouth for make-up and titivating.
A flurry of R/T calls alerted us to her progress down the highway.
The delivery driver must have wondered why he was being watched so closely.

" In Pagan times the start of summer was when the festival of Beltane was celebrated with outdoor orgies. This was therefore thought to be an unsuitable time to start married life. ... The Summer as a whole was considered a good time to marry and this is partly to do with the sun's association with fertility. "

The Alarm clock better watch it too..

"Seeing an open grave, a pig, a lizard, or hearing a cockerel crow after dawn are all thought to be omens of bad luck. Monks and nuns are also a bad omen. This may be because the are associated with poverty and chastity. They are also though to signal a dependence on charity by the newlyweds."

weddingmag.com

Like A Virgin

My first car, I had only an eighth share in. It was a 1937 Austin 7.
I managed to convince 7 school friends to chip in half a crown each (50 cents) and so raised the 2 Pounds it took to buy it.
Of course I would be the one to "look after" it, in fact I looked after it to death.
It expired a couple of weeks later on the mud flats in a welter of spray and oil.
There followed a succession of venerable machinery, which all met a similar fate.
It is only recently that I have managed to own a car that was built in the 1990's.
When I was called to my vocation as keeper of the State Highways then, it was fitting that my truck should be of vintage.
It is a mature Isuzu, rapidly closing in on three quarters of a million hard kilometres.
It clangs and rattles and oozes body fluids. If I ever need a bolt or nut, I can just scratch around on the cab floor, they shake out of everywhere.
Today in the back of a Rotorua workshop I was taken to see the replacement.
It was under a cover while they fitted a sliding deck to the chassis.
It has 45 Kilometres on the clock. I have never, ever, driven such a new machine.
I feel like a groom in an arranged marriage.
In two weeks I can lift the veil

Rest Area 300m

Doddery is one smug old roadworker today.
In fact vast quantities of smugness are oozing out of every pore.
Today, the crew got a dinky little clock radio thingie for not having any lost time injury accidents for a year, & I scored a couple of pairs of new overalls, some new boots, and a brand new truck.
At this very moment a highly skilled team of engineers and truck builders are painstakingly crafting a real roadies truck with every conceivable folding out, and tucking in, extra. Sliding deck, winch and all.
I am also authorized to oversee the finishing touches, placement of lights, lockers etc.
( a stainless steel galley & en suite would be nice, oh and a high speed wireless data link)
Truly my cup runneth over.
I haven't had the heart to tell my old truck yet.
Terminating a long relationship is never easy, especially when a shiny new, low mileage replacement comes along. I may have to try and break the news gently, over a service pit with some heavy duty grease, and low sulphur diesel.