Road to Nowhere

When I first met CP, he invited me to come and see the shearing before it finished. Since we'd only been officially 'dating' for about a week at that point, I asked work for the Friday afternoon off work, and they supported me in that decision because "it was something I might never see again!" HA!

So there I was in my 1991 Model Ford, counting the grids (was it 6 or 7 I was supposed to cross??). I had been driving for over an hour at that point and was starting to fret about the definite possibility that I was lost. In the very likely event of that happening I would either be forced to drink my own urine or eat kangaroo carcass in order to survive before anybody would EVER find my fully dehydrated and emaciated body on this road to nowhere. For all I knew, I was already a goner. The road was crap, it was too far from anywhere and I was really starting to wonder if CP was even worth all this effort??? Luckily for CP, and for all the crazy hormones coursing rapidly through my body at the time, I DID believe sincerely that CP was sex on legs. And I say this only because it was my sheer attraction to the boy that kept my foot on the accelerator heading west. Because of all these things, he bought himself some time. And it was that time that led me to The Shearing Shed, my destination.

One day I will blog about what happened after I arrived there, but today I really just want to tell you about the road. (Exciting I know).

So flash forward almost another 10 years. CP and I were driving along the same road I drove on that fateful day. It is, for the most part, completely sealed these days. There is only 8km of gravel road remaining. A far cry from the first time I ever traveled on it. There is even talk that when they complete the sealing of the road, they will remove the cute little bridge connecting the country road to the small local community.

The road has become something of a metaphor of our relationship. In the beginning I was unsure of it, scared to travel on it, and had trouble maneuvering myself over it. In the ensuing years, it has become an old friend. We still have the occasional hick up, but mostly it is smooth sailing these days. And in the next few years it will become even more complete, only requiring the occasional patch up every now and then.

The narcissistic side of me likes to believe that the local council have conspired with my new family to fix that road in order to keep me happy. Happy wife, happy life.. right? But deep down I just feel fortunate to have things exactly as they are. For a place where things seem to always stay the same, things seem to be evolving. The road. The relationship. And furthermore, whilst CP may no longer be the sex on legs I once used to see, and travel over hell and high water to see. I am always excited about getting home and being around the people who love me most, regardless of that road.