Maps, arguments and dead kangaroos...
May 5th 2010 00:30
Well worn and missing the luxuries of home, we headed back the way we came, sort of. My husband, as he is known to do, decided to take the road less traveled. So, after a couple hours of driving on a road simply labeled as a “developmental road”, we hit a detour.
Not even slowing down, (I assumed it was because he knew where we were going) my husband confidently drove into the direction of what would turn out to be the longest trip of my life.
A few hours later I was anxious to see how close to home we were. I took out the trusty RACQ map to find where we were. I looked at the map, then at my husband, and asked in that very calm, please-tell-me-I’m-wrong voice and said:
“Uh, hon. Do you realize we have just driven in a perfect “V”?
And thus started the all too cliché’ conversation between husband and wife, where he insists he’s “driven this a hundred times” and “knows where he’s going”.
But as the hours passed, and with our initial ETA creeping closer, he stopped to look at the map himself and said:
“Oh, I see where we messed up.”
Funny how quickly it turns into “we”. So after finding our way back to the highway, we got the girls settled in and life was good again. Only by this time it was night and the kangaroos were out in full force.
I’m not sure what it is that kangaroos are so upset about, but apparently every single one of them wanted to end their life in vehicular suicide. And eventually one did. It jumped out, hit the back bumper, snapped a pipe on the camper and caused us to go off the road.
After opening my eyes and beginning to breathe again, we were back on the road.
Until we noticed we had a flat tire about two kilometers down the road. We pulled over, fixed it, and headed back out, again.
In the end, our tally was: one dead kangaroo; one slightly damaged bumper and camper; one flat tire; and at least 400 extra kilometers.
He’s getting a NavMan for Christmas.
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