Sunday, October 2, 2011

Chock-late!

My world flashed before my eyes… or more exactly, the nearby camp site (looming larger by the second) flashed before my eyes. A glint of a high chair, flash of campfire and three four-wheel drives standing like gate posts between me and them.

I was careening down a slope, dragged behind me runaway trailer and trying desperately to act as the brake and avoid disaster. Moments before, the world had been serene as I chose what appeared to be a flat clearing and unhooked from the car.  Needless to say, it wasn’t as flat as I had thought and lifting the trailer arms had caused enough momentum to start a roll which didn’t stop.

“HELP!” I screeched at the top of my lungs to my fellow campers. They rushed forward in slow motion as I continued down the hill: a drogue in a sea of gravel.

Doesn't look like a slope!
It ended as quickly as it started with a grinding thud as the trailer met one of the cars: denting both. All I could think of at that moment was “Thank you”. I had missed the baby, missed the happy campers, and only wiped out one of the three cars.

Yes, I had left a fair chunk of my leg in the gravel, and yes, I had made a very silly mistake by not chocking my tyres, yet everything that mattered was still in one piece.  The lesson was learnt without trauma and I am now the owner of a brand new set of bright yellow chocks… soon to be mounted on the outside of the trailer like warning beacons!

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