THE bush pirate agrees with me that chicks look hotter driving stick, yet I can only drive automatic and that’s without a licence. Something needs to be done about this urgently.
It’s a shithouse day up here in the Otway Ranges, which seem to have their own weather system. A couple of times our 2WD ute nearly gets bogged down in the bush pirate’s expert hands, so when it’s my turn he yells out gear changes, trying not to instinctively slap his head and pull his hair when I crunch, stall and get shirty. Looking hotter by the minute, though.
Next up we swap the 2WD for a 4WD. How fortuitous that I’d put Cinderella’s classic ‘Shake Me’ on the mix CD – it’d been sticking out like a sore thumb up till this point, but now it captures the essence of the moment. We’re shaking so much, in fact, that the knackered tray door comes unhooked without us noticing and we lose various bits of fishing paraphernalia and petrol cans all along the track.
I finish off with some hooning down grassy hills, through deep puddles and up mud slicks. I don’t know if I’m looking hotter, but I’m feeling pretty flushed.
Keeper? Yes.
Hey man, now you're really living 
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