15 December 2010

Woooaaah Black Betty


I spent an entire afternoon on the side of the road at Three Ways with no luck. Most cars were heading south to escape the wet season, and none that were heading north gave me a second glance.

When I hit the road the following morning, Black Betty was sitting at the roadhouse about 30 meters from me, her engine warming up for the day. She was pointing north, a good sign, but her driver seemed too distracted checking the tie-downs to even notice me. I was beginning to lose hope. Then, just before he climbed aboard, he whistled and waved me over.

I was amazed by the plush interior. The whole cab was upholstered in 1970s porn-star suede, and a dozen or so shiny pressure gauges were set in Mahogany on the dash board. There was a double bed at the back of the cab, the air was freshly fragranced and everything was immaculately polished.

Terry was a laid back cowboy. He had traveled Australia countless times, working all sorts of jobs. He wasn't much into small talk, which suited me, but he liked a story and had plenty to tell. Booze, cigarettes and women, Terry was all about good times.

And all the while, Black Betty hummed along at a steady 107kph...

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