All country folk have a driving short-cut story don’t they? and usually they don’t end well!
Here’s my take on it:
Setting: Afternoon barbeque, blokes having a few beers, girls around the table with a wine.
Conversation: Bloke 1: ‘Gotta head over to *insert town’s name* tomorrow.’
Bloke 2: ‘Oh yeah? What for?’
Bloke 1: ‘Thought I’d take the wife out for lunch. Weddin’ anniversary.’
Groans from all the blokes.
Bloke 2: ‘I took *insert wife’s name* to *insert town* about three years ago for a pub lunch. Thought the back tracks would be good – best experience I’ve had in a while.’ Wiggles eyebrows suggestively.
Bloke 1: ‘Yeah? Well I’ve gotta be back to get the lambs in by dark, and the sheep will need feeding, so any time saved would be a bonus. And if there’s anything like you’re suggesting is to be had, I’d better be in it. Where’s this short cut you’re talking about?’
While bloke 2 explains, bloke 1 nods then says he knows exactly where bloke 2 is talking about, even though he doesn’t have a clue.
Next day:
Wife: ‘Come on love, we’ll miss our booking if we don’t get away in the next ten minutes.’
Bloke 1: ‘Don’t you worry. I’m gonna give you the surprise of your life. We’re taking Bloke 2’s short cut.’
Wife looks wary: ‘Oh yeah?’
Bloke 1: ‘Yep, told me all about it. Took his wife through the track about three years ago. He reckons it’s safe as houses.’
Wife: (in a sarcastic tone) ‘Oh, was that for their fifth wedding anniversary? Yeah, she told me all about it. First of all he took the wrong turn and ended up in the neighbours back paddock. Then the TWO-WHEEL track was muddy and they got bogged. *Insert Bloke 2’s Wife’s name* had to get out and push the Toyota through a flooded creek. By now they were running late, so Bloke 2 drove too fast, hit a rock and put it through the sump. All the oil ruined her dress when he asked her to get under the vehicle to check what had happened. He was banished from the bedroom for a month of Sundays.’ *Turns evil eye to bloke 1* ‘Do you want that to happen to you? No? Well best we leave now and take the bitumen.’
So you can see why this sign tickled my fancy. The best part is that it’s the epitome of a short-cut road. You may not be able to see, but it’s pointing to a closed gate and a two wheel track that disappears into private property!
Do you have a short cut story? I’d love to hear it!
Oh, only the story about a certain ‘well known rural author who lives near Esperance’ giving a certain ‘nearly to be known author’ directions over the mobile phone on how to take a ‘short cut’ to a certain place. THREE hours, goat tracks which make the moors of England look like freeways, an uncle’s station, a lost football match and a dead sheep later, we finally find the END of the road – the short cut road that is… I wonder who or where that might be? LOL
PS Loved it when we finally got there though 😀