More Memoir Friday–Road Trip to Sydney

[Keeping with the car-theme this week. Bought a new secondhand car. Sold our car. I say, if I’m a bit muddle-headed, it’s because of all the dealing with vehicles, banking, and paperwork that goes with it. The new-for-us car is beautiful, though and everybody involved is smiling.]

Road Trip to Sydney, the summer of 1979 – Episode 1

[Based on real events. Some names have been changed. And some details of events may differ. After all, it was over 40 years ago.]

Lost Control

A conference on the gifts of the Holy Spirit. I wonder what gifts God has for me? I pondered while dozing in the back seat of my brother Rick’s Chrysler Charger. And Dad…why was it that Dad had to go all on his own by car to the conference? Oh, well…much more fun travelling with my peers.

Crunch!

I sat up. Rubbed my eyes. ‘What happened?’

The car fishtailed. Rocking the carload of us back and forth.

‘Hey, mate!’ Rick, my brother, yelled at the driver, ‘Jack! You trying to kill us?’

Without reply, Jack bit his thin upper lip and swung the Charger to the right, and into oncoming traffic.

I gasped.

A truck bore down on us.

Jack, who reminded me of Abraham Lincoln, clenched his strong jaw and corrected back to the left. Keep left, that’s what you do when driving in Australia. Jack’s usually blonde curls appeared dark from perspiration.

The semitrailer gushed past us, sucking the air out of our open windows.

Rick held up his thumb and forefinger in pincer mode. ‘You missed them by that much.’

[Photo 1: Rick’s Charger in strife © L.M. Kling circa 1984]

Rick’s navy-blue tank top was soaked with sweat around the neckline under his mouse-brown curls, and under his strong arms. Mid-January and the full car with only open windows for air-con, steamed with heat. And body odour.

To my right in the back seat, Mitch, taller and thinner than my brother but sporting chestnut brown curly hair, wiped his damp mauve polo shirt and then sighed, ‘That was close.’

Cordelia, in the briefest of shorts and a tight-fitting t-shirt, showing off her classic beauty and assets, sat on the other side of Mitch. She clutched her stomach. ‘I feel sick.’

Mitch leaned forward and tapped Rick on the arm. ‘How long till we reach the next town?’

‘I think I’m going to throw up,’ Cordelia said.

Rick nudged Jack. ‘I think you’d better stop.’

Jack rubbed one hand on his blue jeans, straightened his long white shirt, placed his hand again on the steering wheel, and kept driving.

Cordelia cupped her hand under her chin and groaned.

I smoothed my white wrap-around skirt and then brushed my light cream-coloured blouse patterned with blue roses. No way did I want Cordelia to mess up my most flattering-to-my-slim-figure- figure clothes.

[Photo 2: In my slimming white wrap-around feeding a penguin at Cleland National Park © M.E. Trudinger 1979]

‘Stop!’ Rick shouted.

‘I can’t!’ Jack said and continued to speed down the highway. The golden expanse of the Hay Plains, dried out by the fierce summer heat, spanned the horizon. White posts flitted past. The red-brown line of bitumen of the highway stretched to its vanishing point on that horizon. A faded white sign flashed past. Dubbo, 265 miles. How long had Australia been metric? A few years at least; not that one would know, travelling in outback Australia in early 1979. Still…

Another groan from Cordelia.

Rick screamed at Jack. ‘Stop!’

Jack slowed the car and rumbled onto the gravel beside the road.

Cordelia leapt out and hunched over a shrivelled wheat stalk. I looked away and covered my ears from the inevitable sound of chunder.

‘That was close,’ Mitch said.

‘Remember that drunk guy, your brother brought back to Grandma’s?’ Rick said. ‘Took me a week to get the smell out of her Toyota.’

‘Hmm,’ Mitch replied. ‘That was unfortunate.’

‘You mean, the guy who kept singing “Black Betty”?’ I asked. I remembered that fellow. He had messy blonde hair and a moustache. He lounged on the back seat of Grandma’s car while I sat all prim and proper in the front, waiting for Mitch’s brother to drive us to Lighthouse Coffee Lounge. ‘He kept saying I was so innocent.’

‘Well,’ Mitch said, ‘you are.’

I guess I was 15, but hated to admit it.

Cordelia stumbled back into the car. ‘That’s better.’

[Photo 3 and feature: Proud owner of his Chrysler Charger © courtesy of R.M. Trudinger 1983]

Rick and Jack arranged to swap places. So, after a brief stretch of legs and a nearby scraggly-looking bush receiving five visitors, we set off on our quest for Sydney. After all, we still had ages to go before arriving there for the Revival Conference. We hoped to arrive with enough spare time to see the sights Sydney had to offer.

© Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2023; Updated 2025

***

Summer in Australia is approaching, and so is the season for holidays and intrepid road trips …

Or for reading adventure …

Want more, but yet able to travel down under?

Why not take a virtual journey with the T-Team Adventures in Australia?

Click here on:

 Trekking With the T-Team: Central Australian Safari 1981

The T-Team with Mr. B: Central Australian Safari 1977

And escape in time and space to Central Australia 1981…

Remembering Dad–100-Word Challenge

Games days, Central Australian pilgrimmages, his garden, golf, table tennis…always having to win. These are the things that spring to mind when I remember my dad. Last Monday, he would’ve turned 97 if he hadn’t left this Earth for a more perfect life in heaven in 2012.

Another defining memory of Dad was his cars, except for his first one, a Gogo mobile, the rest were cheap, second-hand and the “that’ll do for the time being variety”.

This week I look back at the memory of one of these cars in the 100-word challenge.

[Driving around Adelaide these days, I see many classic cars. Brings back memories of our family cars from my childhood…]


Bathsheba

After 50 years, I have discovered the significance of our Holden FC’s name.
My dad was called David. In the Bible, there’s a King David who has an illicit affair with a woman he spies in a bath on a roof top. Her name, Bathsheba. Bath-she-ba; an apt name considering the circumstances of their meeting.
Did Mum think that when Dad bought this car, this silver-pointed beauty was his “mistress’?
Similarities: Both Davids were master of their realms. Both Bathshebas, not new, used, yet beautiful. And both Bathshebas became parked in their David’s palace, in a harem, their love shared.

© Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2019; updated 2022
Feature Photo: Bathsheba in our Backyard © L.M. Kling nee Trudinger) 1969

***

Join the Journey into Central Australia with the T-team, led by my Dad, Mr. T.

Click on the links below:

The T-Team with Mr. B: Central Australian Safari 1977

Trekking with the T-Team: Central Australian Safari 1981

100-Word Challenge–Putt-Putt Pa

[Have been engrossed in a murder-mystery, come thriller manuscript that I wrote in 2009, and then filed away. Wrote it so long ago I have to read it to find out what happened. So, completely forgot to post my 100-word challenge last week.

Anyway, Dad’s mid-life crisis vehicles keep rolling in. Was this new development a reflection of the direction Dad’s mid-life crisis was taking? Or was he just having a go?]

100-Word Challenge — Have a Go

After lunch at Grandma’s one Sunday, my cousin showed off his prized Ducati. Inspired, Dad resolved to have a go, and buy his own motorbike.

The first hint that Dad was dissatisfied with current transport-arrangements, was expressed in a progressive story game, where he described money-saving qualities of a motorbike. I pointed out the dangers, my cousin’s friend had died in a motorbike accident.

Soon after, Dad came puttering down the driveway on Putt-Putt, a bright orange motorbike. From then on, for a time, Dad puttered his way from Somerton to work in Port Adelaide. Everyone was happy, until…the accident.

© L.M. Kling 2019; updated 2022

Feature Photo: Born to be free: Dad on Putt-Putt in Grandma’s backyard © L.M. Kling (nee Trudinger) 1978

***

Indie Scriptorium

If you’d like to polish your writing skills or find out more about our new project, a self-publishing collective, click on the link to Indie Scriptorium

Or…

Catch up on the exploits of Boris the over-grown alien cockroach, and Minna and her team’s attempt to subdue him.

For good holiday reading click on the links below…

The Lost World of the Wends

The Hitch-hiker

Mission of the Unwilling

Or…

Join the Journey, click on the link below:

Trekking with the T-Team: Central Australian Safari

Dad’s Mid-Life Crisis Cars–The Mazda

My dad’s midlife crisis took a turn … for the worse. The Mazda. Not sure what type this less-than trusty steed was, suffice to say, he purchased it for a bargain as it had a damaged rear-end. So, the Mazda became the butt of many car-jokes with my friends.

A reblog, in memory of our much maligned Mazda.

An Ode to the Mazda

Now every time the battle-axe we release,
We pray:
Keep our Mazda running from police
Particularly today.

Grant us all green lights, for our brakes may fail,
And may thy Mazda’s effervescent light shine forth
At both head and tail.

Forgives us our blinkers, our wipers, the lot,
As we forgive those who are enemies and gripers
Of the Mazda we’ve got.

© L.M. Kling (nee Trudinger) 1982; updated 2020; 2022

Feature Photo: Behind Rick’s green machine (Cleo), the Mazda lurks © L.M. Kling (nee Trudinger) 1978

***

For my Northern hemisphere readers, it’s Summer Holiday time. Time to read more on the war against the fiend you love to hate; an overgrown alien cockroach, Boris.

Click on the links below:

The Lost World of the Wends

The Hitch-hiker

Mission of the Unwilling

Or

Longing for more travel adventures? Dreaming of exploring Australia?

Read the T-Team’s Aussie adventures, click on the link below:

Trekking the T-Team: Central Australian Safari 1981

100-Word Challenge–The Holden

The Dream Car—Holden Premier EH, Serena

[Another fond memory from my childhood…and Dad’s catchcry, “for the time being” took a breather when, after being promoted to Deputy Principal (Primary School), he bought the Holden Premier.]

Serena, our dream family car ferried the T-Team to Canberra. In 1975, hardly a maiden for this voyage, she drove us to our destination; a comfortable, safe ride over the Hay Plains. No breakdowns. No stranded waiting for road service on the hot dusty side of the road. A smooth ride that rocked me to sleep; the vinyl with scent fresh from the caryard to us.

She mounted the snow shovelled roads to Thredbo. From her window, my first sight of snow on a brilliant sunny day, snow shining on twisted eucalypt branches.

Memories.

When Dad sold her, mum cried.

© Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2019; updated 2022

Feature Photo: Not the Holden Premier, but one of my brother’s first car-building projects, a 1970 Holden Monaro HG. Salvaged from the wreckers, he lovingly spent hours panel-beating, arch-welding and engine-fixing this model back to life. © Lee-Anne Marie Kling circa 1982

Note: in the back of the photo, you’ll see the lurking the unfortunate successor to the Holden Premier and focus of the next week’s blog featuring my childhood family’s cars.

***

Catch up on the exploits of Boris the over-grown alien cockroach, and the mischief and mayhem he generates.

Click on the links below…

The Lost World of the Wends

The Hitch-hiker

Mission of the Unwilling

100-Word Challenge–Dad’s Midlife Crisis Cars (2)

The Austin

[My dad’s catchcry, “for the time being” dogged the choice of cars he brought home. The Austin was no exception… ]

The Austin appeared one winter’s afternoon in our backyard; Dad’s solution to the worthless Wolseley, and of course, just for the time being.

Only cost $100. What a bargain!

Next morning, his breath steaming with excitement, Dad marched up to the green lump of a car. I sat sulking in this woe-begone wreck, the vinyl seat threatening frostbite on my delicate buns.

Dad hopped in and turned the ignition key. Nothing. Not even a squeak on this icy morning.

‘Ah, well, we have to crank it,’ Dad said.

Crank it? Yep, we had to crank this ancient Austin to life.

© Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2019

Feature Photo: Not actually the Austin, obviously…but was it the same end? © L.M. Kling 2010

***

For good holiday reading click on the links below…

And catch up on the exploits of Boris the over-grown alien cockroach, and the mischief and mayhem he generates.

Click on the links below…

The Lost World of the Wends

The Hitch-hiker

Mission of the Unwilling

100-Word Challenge–Midlife Dad-Crisis Cars

[Another relic from my childhood…and Dad’s catchcry, “for the time being” dogged the choice of cars he brought home.]

The Wolsley 6/99 Saloon

Dad’s midlife crisis began in earnest in the early 1970’s. His penchant for early model, British-made cars was disguised as “this’ll do for the time being”.

The blue and cream saloon took up residence in the backyard behind the Hills Hoist washing line while presiding over Dad’s vegetable garden. On weekdays, it attempted to ferry us to school, but more often than not, failed in its endeavours.

So began my education into mechanics (and my older brother’s), alternators, batteries, starter motors and lemons.

One positive, the Wolsley made a great hideaway because it never went anywhere — for the time being.

© Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2019; updated 2022

Feature Photo: Not a Wolsley, but similar condition by now…© L.M. Kling 1978

***

Catch up on the exploits of Boris the over-grown alien cockroach, and the mischief and mayhem he generates.

Click on the links below…

The Lost World of the Wends

The Hitch-hiker

Mission of the Unwilling

100-Word Challenge–Bathsheba

 

[Driving around Adelaide these days, I see many classic cars. Brings back memories of our family cars from my childhood…]

Bathsheba

After 50 years, I have discovered the significance of our Holden FC’s name.

My dad was called David. In the Bible, there’s a King David who has an illicit affair with a woman he spies in a bath on a roof top. Her name, Bathsheba. Bath-she-ba; an apt name considering
the circumstances of their meeting.

Did Mum think that when Dad bought this car, this silver-pointed beauty was his “mistress’?

Similarities: Both Davids were master of their realms. Both Bathshebas, not new, used, yet beautiful. And both Bathshebas became parked in their David’s palace, in a harem, their love
shared.

© Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2019; updated 2022

Feature Photo: Bathsheba in our Backyard © L.M. Kling nee Trudinger) 1969

 

 

***

Catch up on the exploits of Boris the over-grown alien cockroach, and the mischief
and mayhem he generates. Click on the links below…

 

The Lost World of the Wends

 

 

Discover how it all started…

The Hitch-hiker

And how it continued in…

Mission of the Unwilling

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