The Escort's Preparations and the Miscreant Campervan

The Martins sit in our kitchen at Hervey Bay - what are you going to do for your 70th Tom? – “I am going to ride from Wilson's Prom to Cape York” - such an utterance should sound extraordinary but coming from Tom it sounds matter-of-fact and somewhat ordinary! 

"How far it it Tom? - How long will it take - who is riding with you?" - "4500 kilometres, - 45 days - no one" says Tom.

We turn to Barb – “so you are going to be the escort are you Barb?” - A look of surprise fills her face – “of course not!” – “I got better things to do with my time” – “he can stay in pubs along the way!” – “he doesn't need me!” - But Barb - Don't you appreciate the magnitude of this proposed adventure? - "of course I do but do you appreciate the opportunity this is for me to paint and then paint some more and after than paint even  more? In any event I probably will help him when he gets right up north."

We suspect that even though Barb response to Tom's challenge might sound a little "relaxed"  in reality she knows that no matter the size of the cycling challenge to mere mortals it would be little more than a discomfort to Tom 

“Tom - What do you think about doing a lot of it without Barb?” – “Staying in pubs will be fine most of the time” – the towns seem to be about 100 kilometres apart" says he - "only one spot where there might be a problem" - "passing Carnarvon Gorge" says he. 

"When are you going to attempt this madness?" - "May 2017" says Tom - "that is about the time I will be driving up to the Bay" says I - the drink has disturbed my sense of caution - "do you want me to come as escort" says I - "If you want to - that would be nice" - I immediately realise what I have done - Now I cannot proceed with my oft stated determination to rid myself of the cursed miscreant camper-van for at least another year!

Upon arrival back in Albury the van is spruced up - serious attempts have been made to address her more obvious shortcomings - shortcomings that she so graphically displayed during her previous excursions - shortcomings that imbued into her a petulance - instilled a propensity to outbursts of unprovoked anger - petulance and anger that only an aging camper-van, with a personality consistent with an upbringing on the wrong side of the tracks, could possibly display.

My renovation work approaches completion - I look around inside the van - after all the care that has been lavished upon her, she actually looks quite smart! - in fact she looks calm - she looks placid - When I feel myself relaxing in her presence - my inner being screams out "don't trust her" - I pause to consider the potential that a bit of makeup and some new clothes could actually change the fundamental nature of somebody! - foolishly I argue with my inner-being in an attempt to convince it that this miscreant campervan has changed for the better.

Perhaps all this internalised argument has distracted me - As I go to step out I am still basking in the quality of my renovation activities - I am so enamored of my deeds that my head is in the clouds - I pay the inevitable price - I slip on the miscreant's exit step!

Down I go - my knee is wrenched - I lie on the ground gathering myself - is it just my knee? - seems to be - I relax a little - what is that noise I can hear - is it my imagination or can I hear the miscreant giggling away - my inner-being is angry - it immediately swears at me! - "I told you so! - I told you so! - you idiot! - you idiot!" - I am forced to agree with my inner-being! - she has not changed a bit! - she is still her nasty devious self!

I discuss the latest calamity with Bernie - "oh well" - she says - "you can sell it when you get to Hervey Bay" - "Bloody hell - I have to get there without her killing me"" - I immediately recognise that I am simply acting as a mouthpiece for my angry inner self - I chide my inner-self – “you are being overly dramatic!” - "she is simply an inanimate piece of camping equipment on wheels!" – “nothing else is going to go wrong!”

David Parker hears of the latest misadventure – it becomes the talk of the bike rider’s end of ride coffee gatherings – “I know what happened” says he – “the van knew it was about to go on the road and so it naturally took the opportunity to launch a pre-emptive strike” – “the van hasn’t finished yet” says he – “I cannot wait for the blog!” – there are nods of agreement and self-satisfied smiles from his fellow riders none of whom seemed to prepared to harbour a modicum of pity for the person who has to saddle up the beast!

We leave the van to her own devices for a couple of days while planning proceeds – I look at the weather forecast - not too bad! – imprudently I take the decision not to pack the old thing down – even more imprudently I don't bother to check that all her skirts are secured - bad mistake! - she enjoys a shower from the inclement weather - taking a cue from that other lady in my life, she doesn't seem to mind that the shower water, not just caresses her canvas, but is free to seep through any opening in the shower enclosure - Unlike the other lady, I am sure this miscreant did it intentionally - the carefully prepared bed clothes are soaked - that would be bad enough but she also allowed her mattress to become saturated - yet another example of the behaviour of a steed that so far has resisted every attempt to break her in!

Once again the stories of the latest misadventure are raised at Muriel’s after the morning ride – David continues to enjoy telling and re-telling and suitably enhancing the stories to the stage where even I don’t recognise the base from which his glorious tales have grown – never mind – he enjoys telling them and people enjoy any story that he tells.

Conversations occur with all and sundry about my escort duties. Comments reflect a range of views that is as wide as the proposed ride is long – there is outright admiration for the magnitude of the venture at any age – there is stunned amazement at the notion of such a venture being undertaken by a 70-year-old – there is even more amazement that someone would chose the challenge as a present to themselves – there are those that exude their admiration and those that question the mental capacities of anyone who would even consider such a venture.

A chat with my brother-in-law goes like this:

“when after you heading to Hervey Bay?” – “I head off next week- I am acting as escort for a guy who is riding his bike from the Wilson’s Prom to Cape York” – “you are what! – “make sure you have the gentleman’s head checked before you leave otherwise you might find yourself in that caravan with a madman” – “this gentleman is not mad” says I - “if the gentleman is not mad then tell him that petrol is not that dear!” – those of you who have met my brother in law would realise that for the former to be literal I would need to change the word “gentleman” to something that would begin with the letter F and be completed by 5 asterisks!

There are those that know of my past adventures with the miscreant camper-van and accordingly question my mental state in agreeing to travel with her – “I hope she doesn’t kick Tom” says one David Parker – It is clear however that he would see any attempt on the part of the camper-van to inflict damage on me as being a source of considerable amusement.

One of Tom’s bike riding mates says to me “How are you going to occupy yourself in the evening! – Tom never says anything!" – I relay the comment to Barb – “don’t worry about it Mike – he will be asleep by 7:30”