You have to question your life choices when you wake up with a dead arm, a crook neck and your mate scrabbling at the car door, rasping, “let me in.”
Let’s back up for a second though (or rather, by 11 hours). The trip started well. The plan was to take my converted Subaru Forester down to the snow, and test out the plywood bed I had built in the back.
We left Sydney at about 7pm, and settled in for a long night of petrol station sandwiches, suspiciously closed Maccas and driving (this was back in June,