Anyone ever watch The Convoy, or Smokey and The Bandit when they were kids? We did. And I have no real idea of what ten four rubber duckie means, but it sounds cool over the two way radio!
Anyhow, the gist of all that is that the other day we had our own little convoy happening. With an over abundance of cattle populating our leased portion of Charley Creek (the inlaws property) and more knocking on the door, thanks to the "numbers building" phase of livestock production we are currently in, we had to find some more space. An agistment paddock on The Downs was found, not far away. Decisions were made, paddocks mustered, and a line of four decks of pregnant cows was drafted off and loaded onto the truck.
My job on this day was Counter-on-erer (making sure I had the right number of cows per pen on the truck) and transporter of the mobile loading ramp to the paddock.
Cows loaded, we headed off, me being the sandwhich between two trucks. One to slow me down (apparently) and one to pick up any pieces. Ye of little faith, the men in these parts.
husband in the rear...and me towing the un-aerodynamic mobile loading ramp (those bits you can see behind me) in the ute. I will admit to being accused of low level flying the past, but this trip saw me poking along at a sedate 76km per hour (any faster and things rattled alarmingly!)
particularly this lovely girl, who was hardly flustered at all by the whole process. Always quite fond of Brafords with their white faces and clean red coats, I think I will be keeping a close eye on this cow and her progeny.
The unloading process continued uneventfully, and the mob was held by The Husband on the four wheeler, waiting for them all to be offloaded before he walked them the short distance to the water trough nearby.
And thankfully, my normal driving habits were able to be resumed, leaving the loading ramp behind and collecting the children (reluctantly) from Granma's house on the way home.
I didn't get much laundry done that day.
Ten four, rubber ducky, over and out.