iKirst

Days like today make my job all the more worth while. Often, I pass on the pre-measure work to other people, citing that I prefer to stay in the nice warm office.. but today, having the opportunity to cruise up north was too good to pass off.
As usual, my destination was in the back blocks of Upper Orewa, As usual, I had no clue where I was going, and as usual, I took the most scenic route possible.

True to form, I found gravel. The rolla seems addicted to it. She still seems to hover a few inches above the ground, afraid to get her toes dirty. But while she hovers, she grips the corners as if she is following an invisible track. The cambers in the road slopped off perfectly to the left and right, leaving me with very little reason to base my mid morning rally on driver skill, but more on good civil engineering of the forgotten back blocks of Wainui. The ungraded course was damp from an early morning drizzle. The roads, although signs suggested a little windy, were exceptionally twisty.

I drove straight past the house I was to measure. Not uncommon for me when I’m too busy swinging the car left and right. My rolla graded the driveway on the slow steep climb to the dwelling at the top of the rise.

She waited, calmly, as I ventured into the house armed with tape measure, pencil and plans. The job took no more than 15 minutes of my time. A slight flush of freshness had occured whilst I was inside, the car was covered in tiny droplets of rain. She shone. My trusty stead, seemingly unbreakable, eagerly awaited our return back to the Shore.

I turned the key, the starter motor instantly engaged, the engine let out a roar in anticipation, we were off!
We danced amoung the shingle, the road side fences wizzed by in a blurr, the gravel seemed stickier than before as we slid around the corners in a more daring manner than the drive up.
The gravel ended.
The rolla purred her satisfaction and ebbed her speed as we entered back into built up society.

Solemnley and detached, we followed the rest of the world onto the Northern motorway, and headed back to work. The drive – uneventful and boring. The rain glistened motorway – bland. Other drivers looked earnest as the went about their daily routines.

Back at work I sit, my Rolla parked outside covered in wet dust. Her feet filthy with mud and grit. Her tail (if you could imagine one) wagging in pleasure.

Bliss

This entry was posted on Friday, July 23rd, 2004 at 11:42 am and is filed under iCreate, iDid. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.