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The Chicken Story

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Author Topic: The Chicken Story  (Read 174 times)
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« on: October 28, 2008, 10:44:40 am »

Down in OZ back in the 1950's a mate of mine  Neville coming back from Brisbane to Sydney late winters night had to come down off the high country.  He was driving an Albion HD top speed 42 MPH with a single axle trailer with produce for the Sydney markets. Now back then it was holes in the floor, windows that would slide down hitting a bump and there were many bumps i can tell you. We wore flying suits and fur lined boots, kangaroo fur mittens,and still we shivered.
Anyway he had been at it for a couple of days with only a nap here and there, was tired and as he stared into the headlights he suddenly would see a mob of wild horses racing towards him, mains flying and wild eyes rolling .
The first time he went for the brake then as he blinked only the lonely road bathed in wispy fog stretched ahead. Shook his head jumped up and down in the seat to get the blood flowing and pressed on. This happened two or three times but he never braked after the first time just shook his head and the horses disappeared. As you all know when tired the mind plays tricks.
A little further on was Moonbi Mountain range of which he was well aware a very steep, dangerous, winding road down to the valley, low gear, no safety fence in those days in fact no fence at all. No escape track, just a wall one side and nothing the other but the black cold night.
As usual our brakes never lasted long and as each gear came to governor speed a change up was needed till at 48 MPH and wrestling the wheel hopefully near the bottom we would have to "toss it" (angel gear) till we could bleed the speed off and flick it back into top.
Well at the bottom of the Moonbi's was a chicken farm and yeah you guess it as he swished around the last bend all he could see was chickens as far as he could see, as thick as snow.
Neville shook his head as the windscreen was covered with flapping white feathery things and he even thought he could hear squarking  sounds as well, he shook his head again and lo they were gone.
Well he thought I hope the next lot of horses dont get that close. That was a bit scary.
He pulled into the markets just after day break, climbed down, walked around the front of the truck and was transfixed by the sight of splotches of dried blood and a million feathers still stuck in the radiator grill.
We called him "Feathers" after that but it wore off after a while.
 Back at the yard after a lot of discussion it was thought probably a fox or two had got into th pens and they rushed out chased by the foxes as Neville came around the bend.
 Well its either that or the horses were real, take your pick.
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