(From 25th March 2012)
On looking for a Freedom Camp tonight we peered at a track off the main road which had a sign declaring:
We shrugged, thought what the heck and drove down it anyway. As we passed the sign we read the handwritten message scrawled across in marker:
No room for turning.
“What was that?” asked Mountain Dad.
“No room for turning.”
Who’d have thought that ‘No room for turning’ actually meant no room for turning?
We managed to execute a perfect 7 point turn on the edge of a cliff with a few saplings as the only victims. Mountain Dad driver said his heart was in his mouth the whole time.
How traveling does get the adrenalin going.