Cruise control

The lack of sophistication in technology
My new ute has cruise control fitted. I found cruse control takes a bit of getting used to if you’ve never experienced it. I had it set during the recent trip to Melbourne, and then forgot to switch it off when approaching a service station where I wanted to stop. I approached the entrance rather quicker than expected. As I said, it takes a bit of getting used to. While I find the device great to use, they feel weird. It’s like relinquishing control. Well, I guess this is true to an extent, but the thing is that the controller doesn’t control the car’s speed in the same way that I would.

It’s strange as they try to accelerate up hill as well as down hill. That’s truly bizarre. As you near the crest of a hill, I would be inclined to ease off on the throttle and let the car coast, but not cruise control. With it switched on the car keeps gunning it up and over the top. They can also be very nasty when you find yourself accelerating into blind corners. Some of the bends on the highway can be tight, and leaving the cruise control set at 100 kph on a bend can put the wind up you. Sure you can put your foot on the brake, or disable the device, but I wonder if manufacturers could improve upon the technology. Here are a few ideas.

Manufacturers might link cruise control devices to the steering. That wouldn’t be difficult with a few micro switches. Perhaps they should also have an inclinator built into the device to monitor whether the vehicle is travelling up or down hill.

There is little point in accelerating down hill; it’s a waist of fuel, but that’s what they do. As soon as the car gets over the top of the hill, the throttle doesn’t ease off to allow gravity to speed the car, but no, its full speed ahead. Similarly, if an uphill grade immediately follows a downhill grade the device should detect the change and maintain the higher speed (within reason) in anticipation of the load of the hill on the engine, rather than waiting until a reduction in speed to be detected before throttling up.

It wouldn’t be too hard. The current speed is known. An inbuilt timer could come into play with this. The logic might operate like the following: If the device has detected a down hill grade by the angle of the vehicle against horizontal, it should register that it’s going down hill. If it then registers an up hill grade it should maintain the current throttle opening. And if the designers were really on the ball they could design the device to note the rate of deceleration and open the throttle an amount to anticipate loss of speed. Of course, if at the bottom of the hill there is no subsequent up hill run, the device would detect this by registering horizontal for a prolonged period of time. It would be up to manufacturers (or users) to program the device as to what point the road surface is considered level. If the vehicle has been driving horizontally continually for maybe 10 seconds or so without a change in the inclination it could resume normal operation at your predetermined speed. It could also operate in a kind of inverse way at the top of hills. As the top of the hill is approaching, rather than the vehicle continuing to accelerate over the crest and accelerate down hill as they do, the device should detect the change, maintain current throttle opening or back off on the throttle, allowing gravity to accelerate the vehicle, and similarly if the road remains level for 10 seconds or so the device should return to normal operation.

Similarly, an intelligence should be built into cruise control devices such that when driving on level ground if the steering wheel is turned more than a certain amount from centre, the current speed is maintained or reduced until the steering has returned to the straight ahead position before the device returns to normal operation. It wouldn’t be too difficult for manufacturers to determine the maximum amount that the steering wheel can be turned, at different speeds, to determine whether it’s safe or not. Depending upon how tight the corner is, the device could maintain whatever speed you were travelling, decrease the speed or disable cruise control until the steering was straight again. And if manufacturers were really clever the could program to adjust for cornering on sloping road surfaces.

I know I’ve gone on about this, but these devices do seem to be lacking.


Cruise control is on, but the brain is off
I expect modern commercial vehicles have cruise control devices fitted in addition to automobiles. On the highway more and more I noticed trucks as well as cars drifting past each other at what seems like half a mile per hour faster than the other. Can’t these people step on the accelerator for a few seconds?

Do you want me to exceed the speed limit? Sure I do, if you are so anxious to overtake. If you are unhappy to drive 1 mph slower than me and stay behind me, than 1 mph faster and be in front then you should darn well step on the accelerator and get on with it. You are annoying me, and making everyone else behind you angry by holding them up with you antics.

I was watching S in the ute as we were driving down the Hume Highway, no doubt with the cruise control set. I was also watching the behaviour of the truck drivers we encountered. She was driving ahead of me and we were both aiming to sit on 100 kph. Many times while on the freeway I’d see a semi coming up behind me, creeping slowly closer by the minute. Eventually the semi would pull out and overtake, which is okay. But on more than one occasion they would do this on the approach to an uphill grade. They would pull out and overtake, and as the hill made its presence felt on the truck it would loose speed. But the cruise control of the ute would keep the car’s speed at a steady 100. Eventually, the semi would slow and pull into the lane behind the ute, and in front of me.

Eventually, the top of the hill would be reached and the semi would gradually gain speed and catch up to the ute again and pull out into the other lane and overtake it, and that’s okay. But just as often by the time it had caught up, changed lanes to overtake, it was on another uphill grade and quickly lost ground again and have to pull back behind the ute and wait for the cycle to begin again. This is annoying, and I found it to be stupid, stupid behaviour.

After a while I would watch the type of semi that passed me and if I noticed the truck looked like some sleek, new, high powered, monster I would stay behind it even if it did slow a little, because generally they just kept on going and faded into the distance. But so often the drivers of older, slower, trucks attempted the same kind of thing. I quickly learned that if these twits wanted to play silly buggers by passing a quicker vehicle (in this case, me in my brand new, empty truck) then when that hill came along I’m going to pass them without hesitation.

Here are two things to consider when driving:

1. Know the limitations of your vehicle, and drive accordingly
2. If it seems apparent that another vehicle is travelling faster than you, don’t overtake it, because they are only going to overtake you further down the highway.

Melbourne to Canberra

We managed to get everything into the campervan (with a few things in the car) on Sunday morning, and headed back to Canberra. This was our last trip!

Of all those trips I’d spent on the Hume Highway between Melbourne and Canberra over a period of almost a year, this one was now the last. I’d grown fond of the drive, listening to all those audio books, and I became familiar with a lot of the landmarks along the way. There are some wonderful landscapes on that trip, if you take the time to look around.

It’s good to see some road works going on in NSW, and hopefully there will soon be more freeway sections of the road coming into the Hume Highway. In fact, it doesn’t seem so long ago that going through Albury was a 60 kph slow zone through the Albury city streets. Now the new bypass speeds you through Albury. Wodonga has been bypassed for so long I can’t remember. Albury was such a nuisance with so many left and right turns as you twisted through the centre of town hitting traffic light after light. One disappointment for me with the Albury bypass was the discovery of a roadhouse on the northern end just outside Albury that sold great fish and chips. Of course, it was a truck stop, which is often a sign of good food on the highway. Well, the freeway has bypassed that service centre. But the smooth-as-glass road surface of the Albury bypass is brilliant.

Of course, the more freeway sections that are added the more small towns will be bypassed, which may affect the viability of some of them. Of all of the small towns, Holbrook is one that caught my eye despite my never having stopped there for long, except once for some chips late one night. Holbrook is submarine town. I don’t know how far Holbrook is from the sea, but to have a full size submarine in the town centre is no mean feat. And I don’t think the river system in Australia stretches as far as Holbrook. Alas, the old subs must have arrived in sections by truck, unless there is an artesian basin running under Holbrook. Perhaps, I’ll get back that way for a weekend drive sometime and check out the sub. What a bizarre thing for the city council to do.

Another fabulous section of the Hume Highway, as far as engineering achievements is concerned, is on the northern outskirts of Melbourne, just south of Craigieburn. I used to get badly lost before the freeway section was completed if I missed a road sign or detour sign on the way into Melbourne. It seemed such a hodgepodge of roads through an industrial area of town. Not only has this section of the road been made top class, but there are a number of wonderful roadside sculptures that are worth more than a glance, and they look stunning at night the way they have been lit up, and look here for more. Look out for the speed traps that are in this new section, and also in the final run up to Melbourne; there are no warning signs. You just get caught.

Our last pickup

S got sleepy on the way down and wanted to stretch out in the camper. I had to stop in a parking bay just north of Albury because I was flaking out too, but had a lousy rest. There were so many trucks whizzing by in such close proximity that they forced me back on the road behind the wheel in search of a better spot. We drove on and found a quieter rest spot just south of Glenrowan.

We both snuggled up for a while, and got on our way shortly after 8.00am, arriving in Melbourne for breakfast in Volumes at about 11.00am. Since we had the camper on the ute I had intended to drive to a caravan park that wasn’t too far from Warrandyte. We were planning on staying there for the night and spend the next day packing the campervan, and then back to Canberra. We were on the verge of heading off to the camping site, in drizzly rain, when S casually mentioned the motel we stayed in last time. We had almost driven past it. But it was too tempting, and I drove in and booked another room with a spa bath for fun, and then loafed around.

Melbourne to Canberra

We had another very slow trip back to Canberra, with lots of breaks. I was particularly aware of how things were packed in the truck and was very tentative in driving over rough sections of the road. Parts of the Hume Highway are not as pleasant to drive on as you’d expect for a major highway. So, I slowed at those sections, and I didn’t care how much I held up the traffic. This highway badly needs an overhaul. Even parts of the Victorian side of the highway, which is freeway for the whole length of it, is beginning to break up with the heavy traffic; probably truck usage more than anything.

A fog began to develop when we were somewhere near Glenrowan and it didn’t let up until we reached Gundagai. I wonder if it was from the Murray River system. It was quite eerie. The headlights seemed to shine in the wrong directions, with low beam being the best. It got so thick at times that we had to drive slowly.

I recall listening to a news broadcast many years ago. A couple of motorists driving in Germany had succumbed to an accident on a highway. They were driving on the same road but in opposite directions in a very heavy fog. It was so foggy that both drivers were having trouble seeing the road ahead. To alleviate the problem it seems that both drivers had preferred to lean out the window and drive by keeping the painted line on the road surface in sight. They encountered each other suddenly, not in a vehicle collision, but when their heads impacted as they drove past each other. They should have stopped if the conditions were so bad. It sounds like a tall story, but it was reported on ABC Radio news.

Fortunately, the fog was not so heavy on the Hume, but it was a lovely experience to see it. This trip must have taken around 12 hours, including breaks. S was desperate for sleep. Every time I had to stop for a nap, she could only rest in a sitting position in the ute. There was more room to stretch out in the truck so we swapped and she got a good rest for a few hours. I noticed while in the ute, that as comfortable as the car is to drive, you just can’t get into a decent position for sleeping.

Home at last. A short rest, and then realising our time was short in which to return the truck to the rental company, we almost threw everything out (and it still took about 2-3 hours to unpack). We rushed to fill the tank, and get the truck back to Fyshwick by 5.00pm. Actually, filling the tank was an interesting experience that I shared with my credit card.

With fuel prices seeming to be in an upward spiral it becomes annoying to watch the dollar indicator spinning around ever faster as you fill the petrol tank at the end of the week. When I stopped the truck to fill the fuel tank, and saw the size of the tank you quickly understand that paying for fuel in a truck takes on a whole new meaning that motorists never experience. Actually, it was an experience in more ways than one. With a truck, the nozzle goes straight into the tank. There are no bends in the filler as cars have, and refuelling stations have diesel bowsers specially made for filling truck tanks. High speed bowsers. Now if you want to see the dollar indicator spin, fill a truck tank at one of these bowsers.

Actually, filling the tank was the single worst experience of driving the truck. The bowser nozzles were generally messy; soaked in diesel spillages. And it stinks, and stays on your hands and clothes. I suspect some people with diesel engines in their cars go there to avoid lining up in the queues at the regular bowsers, and of course the high speed bowser pumps mega volumes of fuel out like you wouldn’t believe. Of course, it blows back, spills, and before you know it these people are stuffing things up for everyone else.

It felt really peculiar getting back into the EXA, after driving the truck for so long. The car was so low to the ground that it felt weird, and it was a bit rough being an older vehicle that it felt like I was driving a truck; compared to the rental truck which felt like driving a car. Home again. An Indian takeaway, and then bed.

Clearing out of Warrandyte

This was another trip to Melbourne. I had this grand plan of having an early night the day before, and then hitting the road during the early hours of the morning. As much as you might try, it’s almost impossible to break the circadian cycle. Our planning for this trip involved being in bed shortly after getting home from work, getting up at about 2.00am to drive the truck through the night to arrive in Melbourne in daylight. In this way we would be fresh enough to make the drive and get on with our work without much need for rest. We planned to have breakfast at Volumes, one of the local Eltham eateries, and then get to work. But it’s difficult to sleep when you don’t need rest, and the best I did was doze on Friday evening.

I got up about midnight after a very patchy rest. S didn’t sleep at all. We headed off, S in the ute and me in the truck. S had cruise control set on the ute which made it difficult for me to keep up with her. She could go up and down hills at a constant speed, whereas I found that difficult in the truck. Inevitably, we drove for a bit, got tired and had to stop along the way, just south of the Victorian border. S later had to stop again for a rest, while I kept going. It was drizzly on the way down the Hume Highway. It was a miserable dirty night.

I went straight to Fort Knox self storage while S was napping somewhere on the Hume Highway. I wish I had a camera with me when I opened the door to our storage. It was a sight to behold. I don’t know how I got everything inside. I set to work packing everything into the truck. The rain was clearing, and S arrived just as I was loading the desk. Loading took much longer than expected, and I was running out of energy.

S spent the rest of the day cleaning out the garage at Warrandyte. I forgot how much stuff we still had lying around the place. Of course, Melody had moved into our old house by this time. I began by loading the campervan onto the ute. I was tentative about doing this.

Loading the camper took me ages, but the repaired jacks worked just fine, and fortunately the anchors I had fitted to the ute were in the correct positions, which was a great relief. I was also dreading connecting the trailer extension lead, expecting to see problems with the electrics. The last thing I wanted was an electrical problem, but it was perfect.

I began loading a few boxes onto the truck that S had packed. It took so long. I don’t know how many times I’d walked up and down that driveway. It was tiring. There were so many little things to go into the truck that carrying everything down the long driveway and then walking back up that long, steep, drudge, time after time was painfully slow and sapped energy. We decided to borrow one of the trolleys from Fort Knox to see if it would help. The trolleys were heavy duty things, and would probably support the load of just about anything you might care to put on them. They were on casters and really so easy to manoeuvre.

It was a failed experiment, and we returned the trolley after using it only once. The trolley was a bit like the ones you see in railway stations or airports, hooked together to carry luggage, and pulled behind those funny little motorised vehicles, and about the same size as those trolleys too. I didn’t realise how heavy the trolley was, and it took quite an effort to push it up our drive. We got it loaded up with some of our boxes, but it took both of us all our energy to stop the thing from careering out of control as we took it down the driveway, because of the weight. The casters also made steering difficult as it tended to follow every variation in the driveway, rather than straight. The drizzle and wet drive didn’t help. What a flop of an idea.

There was nothing for it but to return the trolley and carry on loading the truck by carrying each box down the drive one or two at a time. Had I known the campervan would have gone on the ute without trouble I would have loaded it last and used the ute to ferry everything down the drive to the truck. But I didn’t want to have trouble and be trying to fix problems in the dark. The lesser of two evils. Though, it would have been a great time saver.

Eventually the day started to lose its light, and a continual drizzle settled in. There was a lamp in the back of the truck, but it was very bright and dazzling on the eyes, and would have flattened the battery quickly. So, I didn’t use it. There was a street light about a 100m away which shone into the back of the truck somewhat, and I found that car headlights shone into the truck as they drove down the street, and both provided adequate lighting for packing; funny about that. It’s interesting how your eyes cope with poor lighting conditions. The drizzle continued, and we gradually got drenched carrying the boxes to the truck.

S was buggered, and so was I to tell the truth. And, we went off in search of a place to stay, and called in at the Eltham Gateway motel. We’d both passed this place thousands of times while we’d lived at Warrandyte. It was funny to be staying there now. We must have been a sight; both of us wet, grubby, and untidy. We had been working hard and it would have been difficult to tell whether the dampness on us was sweat or rain drops; probably both. I was wearing t-shirt and jeans and when we arrived at the motel, it seemed a rather pleasantly mild evening. Everyone else was rugged up in coats and shivering; it’s all relative, I guess.

The spa bath after the day’s effort was irresistible, and we had a lovely meal at the motel restaurant, and a real bed. Our furniture hadn’t arrived in Canberra as yet and we’d been sleeping on a blow up mattress. The bed in the motel seemed luxury. I felt as though we were on holiday.

Canberra to Melbourne

It was time for another trip to Melbourne. We picked up a truck from Sargent Rentals at Fyshwick this time. This truck was manual rather than automatic as was the previous one. It took quite a bit of getting used to. I didn’t get off to a great start, as I was selecting the wrong gears and was a bit unsteady on the road because of my fumbling with the gear shift. It’s not that I don’t know how to drive a manual. It was just a matter of getting used to the truck and I didn’t realize first gear would be so low. At least I’d gained some experience in driving a vehicle this size a few days ago.

We loaded the truck with our empty cartons, a change of clothing, and some tools ready for the trip, and of course, the repaired campervan jacks.

The campervan jacks had become seized preventing me from bringing the campervan back to Canberra, and was presently stuck in Melbourne on our old property. This was a setback that had hopefully now been resolved. I took the two jacks to my trusty Belconnen mechanic a few days earlier to see if he could repair them. I guess I could have bought new jacks, but in the vicinity of $1800 I’ll try the repair first. And it worked. When I picked them up from the garage I was more than a little curious to find out how they were un-seized. Apparently, the mechanic had difficulty with them.

The solution ended up along the lines of securing one end of the jack to the hydraulic hoist of the type used raise cars into the air for service, and then securing the other end to the floor. The jacks were heated with an oxy acetylene flame, and pressure applied to the mechanism by turning the jack handle, while at the same time applying pressure by raising the hoist. I squirmed a bit when being told, but hey, if it works. Innovative!

I was so pleased they had been repaired. It wasn’t just the cost of the replacement jacks that concerned me. According to the web site I found, and thankfully they are still available, I may have had issues if I bought new ones. My campervan must be more than 30 years old. I bought it second hand and in one of the drawers was an old book of matches. The photograph on the book of matches was that of Prince Charles and Diana at their wedding. That’s getting back a few years. Anyway, according to the web site, you buy four camper legs, as they call them, in a set (I only need two), and you buy them with accompanying brackets. The brackets are fitted to the campervan, and the legs hook into the brackets when in use. Well, my campervan already has brackets fitted, neatly tailored into the aluminium sheeting and the structure of the unit. What’s the bet the new legs wouldn’t fit the existing brackets, and replacing the brackets would be a major ordeal. Not the sort of work you’d want to attempt interstate.

Anyway, our two cats will have a huge helping of food to tide them over for the weekend, and here goes another trip down the Hume Highway.

Melbourne to Canberra

It was very late when we left. We had said to Melody we’d phone when we leave, but that didn’t work out. I doubt she’d appreciate being wakened at 4.00am.

We were both desperately craving sleep, but we had to continue working. Our cats had been drugged in readiness for the trip, but seemed wide awake. We got some drugs from the vet; cat valium, I guess. It was almost time to leave and we couldn’t get them to pee. Then they started to become wobbly on their feet, which was so bizarre to see. Drunken cats!

S wanted more things loaded into the cars. There wasn’t room. There should be a rule when packing. Namely: if one person is doing the packing and the other is bringing the stuff out. The rule is, when the car is almost full, but not completely full, the packing person should make an announcement: “Hey, the car is full.” That way, when the other ‘last minute’ items that must be packed are eventually brought out, and they will, there will be room for them. Of course, I guess you could just survey all the stuff that has to go and try and make an estimate. This is a difficult time.

To my regret I got grumpy with S. My grumpiness came out in my manner and in the things I said. I tried not to grump, but stuff slipped out. I was too self-absorbed in packing the car that I didn’t appreciate what S was going through in the house. I expect lack of sleep may have contributed. We had been going at it all day, and into the evening, and now it was some ridiculous time in the early hours of the morning.

So that was it. We weren’t able to shift everything, but we were out of the house. S had left a bottle of champagne as a welcoming gift for Melody. I had a final quick look around the house one last time; to make sure everything was out. And I took a few photos for the memory of it all. S wasn’t interested. I think she had had enough of it and just wanted to go.

So, we got under way, and with just a few hours remaining before sunrise we hit the road. We’d been on the road for less than an hour and I was hanging out for a place to pull over and sleep. I couldn’t go on. I spotted a parking bay. The first one on the Hume Highway just north of Melbourne past Craigieburn. I had to stop and rest. We slept for about an hour. It’s difficult to sleep in a sitting position. There was no possibility of stretching out because both cars were packed to the brim. There was no real sleep here. It was just a rest, and the rest didn’t seem to help that much. We were both still tired.

We were disturbed by dozens of trucks zooming by and shaking the car as they went. We eventually got on our way again. I’m supposed to be back at work in a few hours’ time. Ha. Oh, yeah, right.

I had Squeak in a cat box in the EXA, and she was surprisingly well behaved for the scaredy cat she is. S had Elsa also in a cat box, in the ute, and she may have had a reaction to the sedative we gave them before the trip because she was farting all the time and stinking up the car. Poor S had to put up with the smell. We drove for another hour or so, and I had to pull over at a service centre. Another place to park and sleep. We slept for another hour which again was another horrible rest. The cold weather didn’t help any.

We had a snack before leaving, and with daylight’s arrival staying awake was beginning to become easier. Then I had an interesting experience with a couple of police officers in the middle of nowhere somewhere between Melbourne and Canberra. I can’t remember where. Things were a bit hazy you must understand.

The road ahead was just a blur. A strip of grey-black that wriggled and rolled around in front of me, sometimes passing through towns, sometimes not. I’ve never been on such a boring horrible trip. Anyway, somewhere in the middle of nowhere David, my Virgin Home Loans contact, called to congratulate me that settlement went through, which was really nice of him. While on the phone, I spotted a cop car driving by in the opposite direction. The section of the road I was on was straight but undulating a bit. The cop car was over the hill and out of sight behind me in a few seconds.

I had a notion they might have spotted me with the phone to my ear. I pulled off the highway as far over into the dirt as I could, and stopped. I switched off the engine, continued talking to David on the phone, and waited. Either nothing would happen or there’d be a tap on the window.

The journey from Melbourne to Canberra is about an eight hour drive. What are the chances of someone calling, and a cop car passing, just at that instant? For the few seconds it takes to pick up the phone when it rings, why that particular time? The gods were against me. Had the call come at any other time or even a couple of seconds later this would not have happened. Bizarre.

I can just imagine it. Two cops driving and one eagle eye says to the other, “He’s on the phone. Got one.” They screeched to a halt, chucked a u-turn, on with the flashing lights, and raced after me. They probably thought it’d be something to do on a quiet afternoon.

So, I’m sitting there in the car, parked at the side of the road, and a moment later I caught sight of some flashing lights in the rear view mirror. A cop car was pulling up behind me. They didn’t stop me; I was already parked by the roadside. A knock at the window, and the young police officer says he saw me on the phone when they passed. They must have good eyes.

I admitted it. I couldn’t deny it. I still had the phone to my ear. I rang off, and gave my attention to the policeman. I said as soon as it rang I pulled to the side of the road. That’s difficult to dispute, particularly with me parked as I was. He said that I shouldn’t have answered it, and issued a warning. That was a narrow escape. I wonder how it would have gone had I kept driving.

Our traditional stopping spots when travelling on the Hume Highway were MacDonald’s (near Glenrowan) and at Gundagai. At both stops we allowed Elsa and Squeak a breath of fresh air outside the cars, and perhaps to take a toilet break. But at Glenrowan they didn’t want to leave the safety of their cat boxes. Squeak came out of her box at Gundagai. We put a leash on her, but she didn’t want to explore. There were a few dogs around the place, which may have put her on edge. At one point Elsa squeezed into the same pet carrier as Squeak; poor things: scared.

We continued, and once again had a late arrival, but this time it was at our new house. B, our Canberra real estate agent, had left a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses for us, but we had too much to do to sit and drink it. Perhaps we should have had some. Wasn’t that nice of her? Isn’t that great marketing?

Canberra to Melbourne

On the trip back to Melbourne S drove the truck while I slept in the passenger seat. After a while, we took turns at driving while the other slept, finally arriving at Warrandyte in the early hours of the morning.

We could only afford a few hours sleep before getting up again to return the truck to the rental company by 8.00am. Though, to sleep in a decent bed was wonderful. It was only a mattress on the floor but it was Heaven.

I finished getting the anchor points fitted to the ute. Not a perfect job but good enough which will have to do until they can be tidied up later. I was content with my work, and ready to load the campervan. Then I discovered the campervan wouldn’t go on. This was devastating. I'd spent so much effort over the weeks to get to this stage, and now this. I could have wept.

The campervan is supported by four jack stands, with one positioned on each corner of the camper. Normally, it’s a simple matter of raising the van by using the jacks to lift it into the air, and when it is sufficiently high reversing the ute under it, then lowering the jacks to allow the van to settle onto the tray of the ute. The jacks unclip and are carried inside for storage until you get to your destination. Two of the four jacks were seized. I couldn't get them to move at all, and I felt that if I forced them something was going to break. I didn’t need this. Not now, when we have to be off the property.

There was no way I was going to be able to load the van without all four jacks. I slumped to the ground with my head in my hands and lent on my knees. I didn’t know what to do. I had to get them repaired or replaced. This was Saturday; nothing would be open even if I knew where to look.

I rang Melody regarding the problem, saying the van would have to stay on the block for a while until I got something worked out. Thankfully, she was accommodating.

Melbourne to Canberra

So, with S in the MR2, packed to the brim, me in the truck, we arrived in Canberra not at 11.00pm on the same day as we had hoped, but 8.00am on the next morning. It was a lousy trip. We were both tired. Watching the tail lights of the car in front bob around, rather than remain focused. Was that because they were bobbing around or because I was nodding? We took lots of breaks. S was driving behind me said she began to see a face on the back of the truck. I woke with a start at one point to the sound of a horn then realised I was leaning on the steering wheel. There was no way to get comfortable, and you can’t sleep in the driver’s seat.

It was early in Canberra when we arrived. I dropped off S at my lodgings. I’d previously flagged her arrival with my landlord. She went straight to bed. No sleep for me as yet, and I drove the truck to Flynn, which fortunately wasn’t too far away, to unload our stuff. We had made arrangements with the owners, who were still living in the house. They were happy for us to drop off our things. Anyway, most of the truck was loaded with pot plants and other bits and pieces that could stay outside or in the carport.

Gerald was there. He is a friend of the owners, and he helped me reverse the truck up the driveway, which was good of him. It would have been tricky on my own.

There was surprisingly little damage to the plants during the journey. The table tennis table had been set up as a table inside the truck on its trestle legs. I had screwed them open and linked them together with a piece of timber to prevent them moving during the trip. Having legs collapse during the trip would have been nasty. And it all worked very well.

I had placed large plants under the table with smaller pots on top. I also had a couple of pieces of steel reinforcing mesh; the type that concrete workers immerse inside concrete. I was going to leave this behind, not really having a use for it, and then S said it would easily go on the floor of the truck. In fact, it helped locate the plant pots in position and prevented them from moving around.

I was unloading the stuff, and the whole family turned out to greet me. K showed me through the house, offering me a coffee which was welcome, and we had a chat which I couldn’t afford. I wanted to get on with things, catch a nap, and get back to Melbourne, and I also had a very inquisitive little girl of theirs chatting and trying to help unload the stuff. What else can you do but go with the flow, and let her carry the odd thing. We were already a day behind because of the Wridgways removalist stuff up.

I had a worrying telephone conversation in the morning. My Canberra solicitor (Jaki) rang while I was unloading the truck to ask how I would be making the loan repayments. She said she had had someone on the phone from Virgin enquiring. I wonder why Virgin didn’t contact me directly. This was a bizarre question. Why didn’t they know this already? I’d already completed these details which were on the documentation that had been sent to me while in Melbourne, and had been returned to them. I told her how I’d completed the documentation and returned it by express mail. I was perplexed as to why they didn’t know, and said as much to Jaki. She was short with me saying that I’m not answering the question. She was rude. She worked with William Heague. I think it’s worth making a note of this. Anyway, she was correct; I wasn’t answering the question. I wanted her to tell me why they didn’t know something I’d only recently informed them of. She made no attempt to explain why they might be asking this, I provided the information, and she rang off. Virgin Home Loans or their legal people seem to be ignoring their own paperwork.

It’s bizarre that these legal people spend so much effort on sending documentation to customers, making it so difficult to cope with, and then when you return it to them including the basic information, like yeah, there will be a regular salary deduction toward the home loan, and they can’t read their own forms but have to ask you the same thing all over again. Nutty.

When the unloading was done I drove the truck to my digs.

I packed up the stuff that I had been collecting at my digs, loaded it into the truck. It was a handy bonus having the truck to do this. I drove it up to Flynn and unloaded it there. I had more stuff than I expected, filling the entire floor of the truck.

So, with the MR2 parked under the Flynn carport, we’re ready to set of on a return trip to Melbourne. Got to get the rental truck back to Melbourne before 8.00am. I’ll sleep in the truck while S drives.

Making smoke

I had a great drive to Melbourne. It would definitely seem to be an eight hour drive with Albury as the half way point. It wasn’t such a great trip back. The smoke coming from my EXA had increased, and on the way back to Canberra the situation became much worse. Well, what do you do? Stop in the middle of nowhere or keep going. Well, keep going of course. Thankfully, it was in the late evening when I noticed the smoke. The headlights of vehicles approaching from behind lit up the pall I was making as though driving through a dirty fog. It was embarrassing.

I knew exactly what was happening. The turbo was worn out, and the oil from the engine that’s used to lubricate the turbine was leaking into the exhaust gasses, which as you might imagine are very hot. Hence the smoke. I had been trying to pick up a second hand turbo from the wreckers, but without success. Up until this point I would drive the car gingerly, feathering the throttle which prevented any smoke from being issued. Anyway, most of the smoke would occur when decelerating, with steady throttle openings there was little if any smoke, and acceleration producing only a little smoke. I would drive steadily, accelerate gradually, and put the car into neutral when coming to a stop. It was manageable.

On the trip back there something must have gone wrong, and a steady stream of fumes began pouring from the back of the car in volumes akin to that of a steam locomotive. It looked as though the engine had ‘blown’ in some really bad way. Ironically, the engine performance was as good as ever, and if I could get my eyes away from the rear view mirror I would have had no idea this was occurring. The occasional motorist that would catch up to me might flash their headlights or wave madly at me on their way past. I wasn’t sure whether this was to indicate something of the notion, “excuse me sir, I think your engine may have a problem.” As if I didn’t know, but more likely, “Pull over you stupid bastard. Stop polluting the environment.” Well, sorry but I need to get to where I’m going.

I was about half way home when I spotted the problem, which meant I had another four hours drive to go. Was I going to pass a police petrol car along the way? Well, I didn’t as it happened and I promised myself to get the car to a repairer with a priority.

Driving through country towns became precarious. Reducing speed from 100k/hr to 60 meant decelerating. And when did this little car put out most of its smoke: when I decelerated, of course. I tried various strategies for driving through country towns. Braking hard a long way from town and powering through helped somewhat. Freewheeling only got me so far and was a plan doomed to failure. When I dropped it back into gear an even greater cloud of smoke issued. I think the oil may have been dribbling, building up in the turbo, and when I put my foot back on the pedal there was even more oil to burn. Under the city street lights, and bright lights from shops and service stations of the towns I drove through I could see the smog trail. I would have likely left the streets in a cloud of pollution and stink that would have caused a few people to look up and wonder what was going on. Thankfully, there were hardly any people around and little traffic.

I took the car to a repairer the next day, but driving in bright light of day was a sight to behold. I could have cringed, and I apologise to the unknown motorcyclist who had little option but to ride behind for part of the way and breathe my smoke. I had previously been getting quotes from companies that could repair the turbo, none of which were cheap, but there is no choice now. At least I know where to take the thing. I wonder how I’ll be paying for it. Most of my money is going back to Melbourne to fund the renovations.

On the road again

I have always had the habit of glancing at the number plates of the cars that come my way. If they are in your home town you should be a bit more patient with them; they may be having a hard time getting around, and any courtesy you can offer will probably be appreciated. I also check out the number plates when driving interstate. Anyway, on the trip from Canberra to Melbourne, before Christmas, I couldn’t help but notice the number of cars that were overtaking me that had ACT registration numbers. At times, that’s all there was. It seemed as though every car on the road had ACT registration. There seemed to be a mass exodus from Canberra. Maybe Canberra shuts down during the holiday period. I’ve never seen the likes of it.

I’m becoming relatively accustomed to the Hume Highway. I’m also getting to know the sections of the highway where the pot holes are located and able to avoid them by changing lanes beforehand. The Hume carries a lot of traffic, and at times seems over crowded by trucks, which in itself can be a bit daunting, and may well be the main reason for the poor condition of this road.

It is generally always the left lane that is in poor condition. It’s generally the left lane that trucks use. That’s not a coincidence.

Despite the occasional road sign advising drivers to use the left lane, there is no way I’m going to drive in the left lane over ruts and pot holes that are potentially damaging and dangerous on a highway that should be properly maintained. The Hume Highway must be an embarrassment to the NSW government.

I’ve been driving for a few years having had a wide variety of driving experiences. In these few months I have been spending a lot of time on the road. The quality of truck drivers has declined, I’m sorry to say. There will always be idiots on the road. Though, with the following exceptions, most idiots are car drivers rather than truckies. In my experience of maybe 20 or 30 years ago truck drivers were generally good reliable drivers, who were courteous, and friendly on the road. They were something to aspire to. This is not quite the case anymore.

I was on a quiet country road late one evening, and I was shocked and amazed at the antics of two courier truck drivers. I was cruising on the speed limit on a relatively narrow country road, and a truck passed me like I was still in second gear. People speed and that’s okay if the road is up to it, but this particular road didn’t seem suitable for high speed driving; particularly not in a truck. Anyway I didn’t give it much of a thought at that moment, but the experience sticks in my memory because of what happened next.

In under a minute a second truck zoomed past me at much the same speed. It must have been going faster than the first because I could see that it was beginning to gain on the first truck. I was very curious so sped up to see what they were about. These two truck drivers were racing each other. The terrain was gently undulating and I could see the gap between the two trucks narrow as they twisted and turned on the road. Despite the lack of clear visibility the second truck pulled out to pass the first. For some reason it couldn’t overtake and pulled back behind the first; it pulled in so quickly that it wobbled on the road a few times. After a short time it pulled out again and started to overtake. So, here they were, two trucks with about the same engine power, and both drivers pushing them flat out, driving side by side. It took ages for that second truck to get past the first. With so much time on the wrong side of the road I was certain there was going to be a collision. They faded into the distance and I slowed to a reasonable pace. I kept my eyes open for the rest of my trip fully expecting to see the result of this pair’s stupidity. I was expecting to see blood and guts over the road, or hear the sound of an ambulance siren, as one of these two trucks had a head on collision with another vehicle. Fortunately, I saw nothing. Perhaps the collision occurred on some other road they may have turned off on to.

Then of course, you have those sections of the Hume Highway where the two lanes converge into one. And then you’ve got one semi trying to pass the other semi before the road runs out. Of course, every other motorist does this too. But when you see truck drivers behaving badly it seems so wrong. At times it is absolute madness on this road.

And so here I am, driving my little car on a one-lane section of the Hume, determined to keep within the speed limit, and I notice a semi in the distance coming up behind me. Over the next quarter hour or so I notice it getting closer, until all I can see from the rear vision mirror is the radiator grille of this monster. What did this truck driver expect? What goes through the minds of these people? I don’t doubt if the road had been less busy this truck would have overtaken me; I made it wait until the dual carriageway came our way and it shot past. It could have been that some inexperienced motorist might have succumbed to this pressure and driven faster; perhaps faster than they were capable of, which could have been dangerous, or cost them a speeding ticket. Be warned: some trucks have road handling capabilities far superior than some cars, can go a lot faster, and generally, a truck driver will know the road a lot better than you. Don't try and complete.

It’s not hard to work out exactly what’s on the mind of these people. A truck following by half a car-length will certainly put the wind up the motorist. It’s intended to do so. But that won’t be a legitimate excuse if you get caught by police radar for speeding. They want you to speed up. No one want’s 20 tons of truck looming behind you, and they know that. If a roo comes out of the blue and hops across the road in front of you, and you stand on the brake pedal there is no way a truck will stop as quickly as a car. That’s it, you’re gone.

I wouldn’t play the games of speeding up and slowing down, as I’ve done if a car has been following me too closely on multilane roads in the suburbs. Just keep to your guns and the speed limit and drive steadily and reliably, but if it’s all getting too stressful for you pull over when it’s safe to do so and let them through. Don’t make them angry as they may behave worse to the next poor sucker. Put you indicator on to indicate that you are going to shift off the road, but get your revenge by slowing down gradually. Truck drivers hate slowing down; it takes too long for them to speed up again. Perhaps if they realise the only way they can get past motorists is for them to slow significantly while you pull off the road they might be more reasonable in the future by allowing a reasonable distance between vehicles.

Anyway, back in Canberra. What will the new year bring?

Four days in Melbourne

It was 10.15pm when I got back to Canberra, after an eight hour trip. Eight hours seems to be the time it takes me to drive between Canberra and Melbourne. I don’t quite know how I did the trip in seven and a half hours on my first run through, but that was in the MR2. Maybe I was speeding.

The speedo in the EXA reads high – in so far as I can tell 110 on the dial is actually 100, and 120 is actually 110km/hr. The highway speed check systems that are put on the highway every now and again are a great service. Though I have to wonder why so many of them have been installed on sections of the road that are on a slope. This is a difficult situation for people driving a standard car without cruise control. I find I’m forever adjusting the throttle to try and maintain a constant speed to compare it with the over head indicator. The trouble with that is that I could be accelerating or decelerating at the point in the road where you pass the speed sensor, which kind of makes the whole thing pointless.

It was a fabulous trip, and with the new tyre fitted the vibration that worried me on the last trip was gone. I enjoyed it immensely, except for the last couple of hours from Gundagai to the ACT, at night. I don’t have a heater in the car. The return trip contrasted with the run to Melbourne with the sun in my eyes. I have to wonder if when engineers and surveyors are planning highways they consider just how they can annoy motorists, for a bit of mischief. I can imagine them sitting in their site office looking at a topographic map of the district where the road is planned to run, and considering the options of where to site the road. I can just imagine a handful of young civil engineering graduates who might have been sitting around in a site office under a shady tree in a paddock in the middle of nowhere, before the Hume Highway had been built. I can imagine these highway engineers in a conversation, joking around, wondering where the sun sets in the afternoon, and then having the highway surveyed so that at certain times of the year the sun hits you square in the eyes as you top the crest of a hill. Just kidding; this would never happen, would it? Would it? Surely, not.

After taking advantage of an early break from work (3 hours) I got to Melbourne at about 10.00pm. Squeak, one of our cats, bolted out the door as soon as she saw me. Frightened of the stranger at the door. She always was a scardy cat, but it hasn’t been that long since she’s seen me. And Elsa, our other cat, ignored me. What a welcome. S is obviously the only one who loves me.

What a huge house this place at Warrandyte seems. It’s funny how you forget things. Oh, well, there is an excuse for the cat’s behaviour. The polished wooden kitchen bench tops seemed strange and stood out. I guess I was getting used to the plastic bench tops of where I was in Canberra. The lounge room seemed huge. Outside so much had grown; even the weeds.

I spent more time lazing around than I should have, but made good inroads with the list of things to do. There was a stuck key to the back door that had been broken off in the lock, not long after I left. It took me two minutes to get the broken key from the back door lock, and here was S unable to get out the back door for about 6 weeks. A quick tug with a pair of long-nose pliers and it was easily pulled out. We bought a new hand-truck to help get the old fridge and dishwasher onto the street for the hard rubbish collection that the council had planned. So, that was a bit of good luck that resolved a problem and the expense of taking it to the dump. I should have bought a hand truck years ago. I used it the whole weekend, and advocate anyone who is doing a move go get one. They are very reasonably priced at the large hardware stores.

It’s amazing how the wildlife takes over the things you don’t use often. We had an old fridge in the garage. The fuse blew as soon as I switched it on. I hope I didn’t electrocute any of the little creatures that seemed to be setting up home in there. The fridge and a dishwasher had to be dumped. It was kind of sad dumping these two items. The dishwasher was a Bosch. It was a brilliant appliance. We had it for years and it was superb, and it had been in the house when we bought the place. I must get another Bosch as this one gave fabulous service and lasted for years. So, now we have a gap in the kitchen where the dishwasher used to be. Is it better to have a hole where the dishwasher used to be, or have a dishwasher in place that doesn’t work? The punters, when they come walking through, might see there’s no dishwasher, and take brownie points away from their assessment of the property. On the other hand they might think, “beauty, I can buy my favourite brand.” These things are hard to say, really.

The vegie patch up the back looked great, and I saw the new brick path that S had put in. We were sitting under a shady tree having a cuppa, and I was looking around at the house and garden. There were certainly some things that were wrong with this place, work that needed to be done, but by and large it was a nice property. We had put a lot of time and work into this place and it was about to go on the market. Were we making the right decision? At that moment I could have easily stay there for ever. Have you spotted the image at the top of my blog? The garden was an oasis.

I used to go snow skiing. One of the tips the experienced skier will always pass along to novices: Get fit before your ski trip. The same advice can apply equally to preparing a house for sale and or moving home. I began to do some real work that weekend, and discovered how unfit I was. I found myself becoming exhausted after only a sort time.

I packed the car on Monday with another load of things. You can’t get too much into a car that is not more easily left to removalists, but I think it does help. There are some things I’d prefer not to leave to removalists. Delicates and valuables, mainly, and of course, the newly repaired TV went back with me. Tom Kerkhof Television is the guy I've been using and he's good and resasonably priced. Give him a try if live in the area; though it probably is a bit much driving from Canberra like I did, but what the hell.

Our various trips up and down the Hume Highway have fallen into a routine of stopping at the McDonalds come petrol station, service centre, combination that’s not so far from Benalla in Vic for a snack and fuel stop, and then again at the Gundagai McDonalds in NSW to do the same again. I can’t actually stand McDonalds stuff. McDonalds don’t cater for vegetarians in a big way, the serves are meagre, and the thick shakes, while they taste okay, gives me an after effect in my throat like I might need a doctor’s visit and leaves me with a niggling cough for ages after. The fish roll things McDonalds sell are mostly okay, but once again you don’t actually get much of it, and because few other people actually order them, there never seem to be any ready and you always have to wait for them. At least that means they are fresh. Have you ever tried those apple pies that they do? In my experience, apple pies should be baked. McDonalds apple pies seem to be deep fried which makes them the biggest yuk I’ve ever come across. So, I continue to stop at the same places and phone home for a chat from each one. Poor S was feeling flat when I rang from McDonalds. I hope we can sell up and buy a new place quickly.

On the road

Eventually everything came together. The car was packed to the brim with just enough room to squeeze behind the wheel. A kiss, a hug, a farewell, and off I went. It was both a sad and exciting experience.

I wanted to pack as much as possible to help lessen the load when the big move took place, and I might have had to set up house in an unfurnished flat for months. So, I included a blow-up mattress, card table, folding chairs, crockery and the like, along with my personal stuff. It was comfortable enough in the car, but I couldn’t push or tilt the seat back had I wanted to, and I could barely see out the rear vision mirror, and the passenger’s seat was full too. The fuel economy wouldn’t have been too great, and getting to the spare wheel would have been difficult should I have needed it.

The drive out of Melbourne was perfect. It was a fine day, and an easy trip on the freeway was just what I wanted particularly with the car so precariously loaded. Albury is the half-way point, almost. It’s a great feeling when you cross the state border. It feels like you are really beginning to get somewhere; a landmark of the miles travelled.

So what happened to the freeway? Why is it that the Victorian government can provide a top class highway from one end of the state to the other (Melbourne to Wodonga) and when you get into NSW you are hit with a mixture of freeway and second-rate roads? This is Australia’s number one highway and all the NSW government can do is build sections of freeway interspersed with narrow single lane roads. With the amount of traffic that highway carries, it is dangerous.

The countryside in NSW along the Hume Highway is fabulous. The sun was going down behind me and it brought out the textures in the landscape. The view was unforgettable, and I can still see it in my mind’s eye. I wished I knew where I had packed the camera. I would have taken a few photographs. It must have been about half an hour before sunset, the shadows were getting long and the light was fading, and suddenly a bumping vibration started from under the car. It was a heavy, regular, fast vibration that pushed the car from left to right slightly. Oh no, a puncture. It felt like one of the rear wheels because the steering was still light. Thankfully this occurred on the freeway section of the road, and I was able to pull to the side of the road without bothering other road users in any way.

So, I stopped, got out, and walked around the car. All the tyres were okay. That was odd. I looked under the car, but it was getting dark and I didn’t have a torch. I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Everything seemed fine. I felt the tyres; they were warm but not hot. There was plenty of air in them. This was a mystery. There was nothing to do but get back in the car and go on. I took it easy, expecting something to fall off at any time, but there was no trouble. The car was running nicely. Perhaps one of the wheels had picked up something from the road that had stuck to one of the wheels, and now it was gone. Then just as I was beginning to relax, thump, it came back again. The car was trying to wobble all over the road. Is the suspension falling off, I wondered, and I immediately slowed down, and the vibration stopped. It was sensitive to speed. I thought I knew what it was; one of the wheel balance weights must have fallen off and the wheel was out of balance. Anyway, I stopped to have a look. As far as I could tell the wheel weights were all in place, and there was no sign of any weights missing, like a ‘clean’ spot on the wheel. It was almost dark now. I grabbed each of the wheels in turn at the top, and shook them as hard as I could. I was trying to feel for looseness. Everything seemed tight. Back into the car and I drove carefully. Everything was fine. I found that I could drive the car up to about 110km/hr and if the speed crept up too high the vibration started. Well that was an easy fix; watch the speed.

From then on the pleasure of the journey had gone. Whatever was wrong was getting worse. I couldn’t drive at 110 anymore, because the vibration started to kick in at 100km/hr, which was just fine because sections of the highway have a limit of 100 and that wouldn’t have bothered anyone else. As I took the turn off to Canberra at Yass I couldn’t drive any faster than 80, which would probably have been annoying for other road users. The highway is a narrow single lane road between Yass and Canberra, for most of the way, and there was me hogging the road. Luckily there wasn't much traffic.

There was one other thing that happened on this memorable trip. This little car had been in storage in a corner of the yard. The car had had a car cover over it for about a year or more. When I took the cover off and began to clean up the car, there were some little droppings over parts of the bonnet. I had also noticed that a few fibre pieces from under the bonnet had been ‘nibbled’ by something. I think a few little mice had been running around under the car cover and perhaps trying to set up home under the bonnet. We used to have chickens and a few ducks right next to where the car was parked, and if you have chooks you tend to have rodents. Anyway, although you wouldn’t call October a particularly cold month it gets chilly at night. So here I am on the highway with the sun going down, and the temperature dropping. So, what else do you do but turn on the heater, but all these little droppings I found on the bonnet when I took the car cover off must have only been part of it, and I suspect a bucket load of droppings had fallen into the heater vent that runs just in front of the windscreen. The smell that came out of the heater was nauseating. This stuff stinks in normal circumstances, but here was me plying hot air on it when I turned on the heater. It was switched off in a flash. Of course, the windscreen fogged up with no demister. So, on this beautifully clear, icy cold night, I drove with the window wide open. I finally reached my destination in one piece, but cold and weary.