As the day was winding up, it was time to walk back through the enchanted forest to our little shitbox Daihatzu and drive to a lovely place in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere called Ted’s Beach (seriously this place was at the end of a highway, end of roads anywhere that direction). What was supposed to be a lovely afternoon of a lake surrounded by rocky crag mountains turned into a story we wouldn’t forget.
As we were zipping down a two lane country road deeper into the wilderness, there was a clicking/flickering sound starting to emerge “oh it must be the rooftop tent coming loose again, lets pull over and just fix it”. So we had adjusted it… a little but nothing substantial, that was weird. So we take off and again the same noise, violently increasing its intensity as we accelerated and an oil light flickering in a despite heed to get our attention ‘YOU’RE OU.. T O .. F… O…… IL’. Ok we are 10 minutes out according to the GPS, just gotta drive super slow. We then enter this gorgeous valley surrounded by rocky mountains ( I want to build a little shack and retire here I thought), next moment BANG and smoke bellows out of the bonnet and into the car. Gabby and I looked at each with a mixed face of amusement and oh fuck. Emergency stations at the ready let’s call our roadside assistance! There’s no service? Lets see if there’s oil! Theres no oil? How far away are we from civilization again? O oh (yeah probably not the greatest place to build a retirement shack you idiot!).
For the rest of that evening there was a total of 3 cars that passed. All within 20 minutes of us blowing up, here’s how it went down. So car number 1 pulls up and some lovely Canadian guys gave us some of their oil to pour into the engine. We said thanks, they drove off, we started the car it…… wouldn’t event even start igniting the engine. Dammit! Car number 2 pulls up, we ask if they know anything about car repairs and the answer is sorry no.
Ok we are getting desperate here. Car number 3 comes stops on its own to take pictures of the surrounding mountains of the valley and hadn’t seen us waving. These guys were our saving grace. Optimistic and friendly we handed them our insurance and roadside assistant details and GPS position to pass onto our car company once they hit a phone service area to call on our behalf (karma now tells me I must do the same to help a stranger out in the future).
With the rest in the hands on the universe there was nothing else Gabby and I could do but to boil 2 minute noodles, drink wine and set up the roof top tent on the side of the road until, something happened (mind you our car was due to return the following day).
As we dozed off in a haze of red wine I awoke to a blinding light. Is that them I asked? Aint a dream said Gabby! It was 1am and our rescue had found us. A giant tow truck with another deceased wicked camper winched onto a trailer that had a rather ironic slogan on the back “I could be unstoppable if only I could just get started!”…. it was a funny thing to wake up to.
After an hour of waiting the tow truck was ready, my insurance had covered everything and we were on our way back to Hobart on the midnight express to the Wicked Camper Graveyard! (New blockbuster movie title??). Our delightful driver Matt was an absolute legend, the poor bloke had been on the road since 8am the previous day and we were expected to reach the graveyard by 4am, my hat goes off to you Matt!
Steemit Worldmap [//]:# (!steemitworldmap -42.677412 lat 146.712754 long Tasmania Day 5: Russell Falls d3scr)