Signposts on the Road

He looked up and out the window of the roadhouse as he sipped a cup of lukewarm tea and watched the noisy road trains, their gears grinding down as they slowed to pull in by the petrol bowsers. Behind them a long trail of dust marked their passage, hanging in the still hot air, settling ever so slowly. The window was smeared with that same dust and grime that was unavoidable in Australia's North-West, dust that blew into every crevice and crack, slowly leaving its mark upon everything it touched, a soft reddish stain to remind you of where you were.

He leaned back, watching the burly truckers that had come in for a break from the hot road, their shirts stained with wet circles across the back and under their arms. They drank deeply, in long gulps, from cans of soft drink as they flirted with the woman serving at the counter. She was pretty in her way, and probably younger than she looked, her skin and her life stained also with the red dust of this harsh, yet compelling, land. She wiped a strand of hair back from her face and smiled across at him when their eyes made contact. It was a big friendly smile, her eyes a little flirtatious, a chance for her to know her beauty could still be seen through the effects of the climate.

He smiled back in his distracted way, an open smile, caring even, but distant and removed. He stood and lifted his kit bag to his shoulder and meandered through the old tables and chairs that stood between him and the washrooms.

He dropped his kit upon the floor under the grimy basin, watching the tap drip slowly. He rested his hands upon it, looking deep into the eyes he saw reflected. Blue eyes, deep and even in colour. Piercing eyes in a way. Eyes that seemed to reach out to touch, yet never seemed to hold. Looking down again with a sigh he turned on the tap, watching the water flow, spluttering as it started, running warm to the touch from its time spent resting in the pipes. As he waited for it to cool, he glanced along the length of the mirror. He stared at the sticker stuck to the glass.

"Face Your Fear" it announced boldly in a radical typeface. He laughed as he recognized it as an advertising gimmick for a range of surf wear, the last thing you'd expect to see in this dusty place.

Then next to the sticker, the familiar blue marks he had been following for so far caught his eye. Those strong, blue felt pen strokes that he knew so well. Moving towards the sticker, he stared and laughed deeply; this piece of graffiti was definitely written for him.

Right next to the "Face Your Fear" sticker, drawn directly onto the washroom mirror in blue ink was an illustration of a small hand mirror. A small arrow pointed from the sticker to the rough drawing. Garth looked at the drawing and saw his face reflected back at him through the washroom mirror.

"I don't know if I am ready yet," he said out loud, his eyes reading the words once more.

Face Your Fear.

Still smiling ruefully, he splashed the coolish water from the tap upon his dry face and slowly washed his hands, trying, without expecting to succeed, to remove the grime of weeks (or was it months) on the road. He dried his hands upon his shirt and left, pushing open the washroom door and moving through the tables again.

He laughed a little, wondering at the insights a man could find in a dirty washroom, in a tiny roadhouse, hundreds of kilometres from even a small town. He headed outside again, leaving the spartan comfort of the roadhouse, and leaving a smile for the waitress. Slowly he headed for the road, feeling the bite of the blistering sun upon his neck and shoulders. He stuck out his thumb and started walking north.

He reached through the cloud of dust that billowed about him, thrown up by the long road train that had pulled up and stopped next to him. He opened the deep blue door to the cab and hoisted himself up into the seat, looking across at the man who had stopped to offer him a ride. The trucker's shock of blond hair rose above a set of faded, yet sparkling blue eyes, and he was welcomed by a broad open grin.

The man leaned on the steering wheel, with the heavy arms and hands you'd expect of one who drove such a powerful machine. "Gidday mate," said the truck driver, with a nod of his head. "The name's Snowy. Where you headed to?"

Snowy's passenger extended his hand. "Gidday Snowy. The name's Garth. As to where I am going...well...who can tell, but north looks fine to me for now."

Taking the offered hand, Snowy gave it a tight squeeze, feeling comfortable with the firm grip he felt back. Firm enough to show the man's strength but not a hard squeeze. It was one of Snowy's little tests. To Snowy that handshake indicated that Garth felt enough self-confidence to not need to match his measure against every man he met. What Snowy did not realise yet was Garth felt no such need, not from self-confidence, but more because he had lost interest in such tests between men. To him it would make as much sense to test a tree, or a rock.

"Well, bud, you are in luck. I am going as far north as Darwin, which is pretty much as far as you can go unless you want to get your feet wet." Snowy turned back to the road and, checking his mirrors, pulled slowly out onto the highway, the big rig moving forward, gathering speed, gears crunching as he got closer to the speed limit.

Watching the world slipping past at an ever-increasing speed, Garth leant back into the comfortable leather seat. He opened his kit, pulling forth a packet of unsalted cashews, giving it a little shake, and offering the open bag to Snowy.

"Don't mind if I do," said the truck driver, leaning over with one hand on the wheel and taking a handful, popping them one at a time into his mouth.

"So tell me, mate, what are you doing on the open road? You were a long ways from anywhere back there," said Snowy, indicating backwards with a toss of his thumb.

Garth smiled a little as he spoke. "Not a lot, Snowy; just getting to know the country. It's good for a man to wander alone sometimes."

"Sure is, Garth", said Snowy, smiling a small smile himself. "Though I reckon you are never wandering alone, if you're wandering by yourself. Doesn't matter how far a bloke travels, ya can't seem to out-travel yourself, know what I mean?" His big hand helped itself to another handful of the nuts. "Not suggesting that's what you are doing, mind you."

Garth laughed out loud. "Yeah, I have already figured out I can't outrun myself. But I guess I am searching, you know. Standard ol' mid-life crisis come early, I guess." He laughed again. "Ever get the feeling you were not quite seeing something, something you can't quite get a handle on?"

Snowy nodded. "Sure do, mate" He took off his sunglasses and handed them to Garth. "Mate, can ya clean these for me? There's a rag hanging there by the ashtray."

Garth took the sunglasses and the old rag, a soiled part of an old T-shirt. He wondered how he ever was going to clean anything with something as grimy as this. He wiped them over thoroughly and handed them back to the trucker.

Snowy slipped them back on and laughed. "Well, will ya look at that," he said, as he placed them back on his nose. "I can see again... I was blind and now I can see." Laughing at his own joke, he clapped Garth on the shoulder with one burly hand.

"Mate, I ain't no philosopher, but sometimes, ya just got to clean the lenses. Know what I mean? And hell, if that don't make it clearer, then maybe it's as clear as it's meant to be. Know what I mean? Like maybe ya just need a little faith. Life can be a strange thing, ya know. Sometimes instead of analysing somethin' you just gotta trust, just go with the flow. Let me tell ya a story, and ya can't complain about listening 'coz its my wheels and I makes the rules".

Snowy grinned again. "Every man is in charge of his own wheels, ya know. It's a great thing that, though it has its own hassles. Ya gotta maintain the rig, clean its engine, keep it runnin' smooth. But hey, sometimes ya just gotta put it in gear and enjoy the power." Snowy laughed as he planted his foot, the big rig picking up another 10 kilometres of speed.

Garth nodded, listening intently, before he laughed. "You sure you ain't a philosopher there, Snowy? Those words seem almost wise."

Snowy grinned. "Almost wise? Mate, they are God's honest truth. Though," he paused for a moment. "...words are easily spoken. You gotta look past 'em, I reckon. A man's actions is what makes `im. Anyway, enough of the mumbo jumbo. You got a story to listen to."

Garth leaned back and flexed his shoulders, feeling the muscles move as he twisted his head from side to side, easing the tension imposed on his neck and back by the ever-present hot sun. "Go for it, Snowy, I'm all ears."

Snowy started to talk. "About two years back, I was moving rigs down South. Nice runs, from Perth to Esperance mainly, with a drop at good ol' Kalgoorlie. Now there's a good town for a bloke to stop at." He paused a moment grinning, obviously remembering a good time or two in Kalgoorlie, that wonderful dusty, vibrant mining town in the Eastern Goldfields.

"Now I had made good time on the downward haul and was heading back to the big smoke. Had a few days up my sleeve before the next job, so I figured I'd take it slow. I pulled off into a nature reserve and lit myself a small fire, and was taking the time to get to know the stars again. Ya know, if ya get far enough off the road and sit facing away from your rig, ya can almost imagine you are out there alone, like a blackfella. The land makes ya feel like ya are part of it. Ya can hear so much more 'coz ya can't see as far. Anyways, cooked up a couple of snaggers and had a pretty good feed. As I lay back watching the stars, I musta fell asleep."

"I woke I don't know what time, but it was real dark and real quiet. All I could hear was a small animal moving off in the scrub, goin' about his business. Well, I figured I'd do the same, so I stood up to have a pee and looked out to the east. The land was flat, ya know, real flat. I had been amazed how far ya could see in the daylight, nothing taller than the low trees and bushes that makes up the scrub in those parts."

"Anyways. I was goin' about my business when I stopped." He laughed at this point, the deep chuckle that Garth was beginning to enjoy hearing. "Almost mid-stream ya might say."

Pausing for effect, he took a breath. "On the horizon was this huge orange glow. As I stared I could make out details. It was tall, I don't know how tall exactly, but it looked as big as some of them buildings on St. Georges Terrace, know what I mean? The glow was all around it, and there was a low hum you could just hear. It was amazing 'coz it really looked out of place. Like it wasn't part of the landscape, ya know? I must have stared for ages, trying to make out more details. Thoughts crossed my mind of those UFO things, ya know, but who knows. Anyways, after a while I had kind of seen all I could and laid back down again, watching it glowing and humming till I fell asleep again."

"Well, when I woke next morning about dawn, I had another look, and you know I couldn't see a damn thing. The horizon was flat as could be." Snowy paused again for effect and Garth cut in.

"That's pretty amazing, Snowy. What do you reckon you saw? Wasn't just a trick of light, do you think? Did you drive towards it to see what it was?"

Snowy looked to Garth with one eyebrow raised. "Mate, did I say the story was finished?"

He laughed before continuing. "Anyways, the road I was travelling took me right in the general direction of whatever it was I had seen. It was all I could think of, ya know, trying to work out what it was. I came up with a bunch of ideas to make it make sense. Ya know. Moonlight, or perhaps a wheat silo, or a plane or whatever. The more I thought of them, the more it seemed to make sense it would be something that could be explained. Anyways, as I pulled into the next town, I hit a small crossroad. The main road led the way I was going, back home and towards the place on the horizon I had been watching. The other way curled westward and towards the coast. It had a sign saying it was a tourist route. Well, I figured it was April and the wildflowers would be out. So I turned and took the long way home."

Garth opened his mouth to speak, but closed it when he got a glance from Snowy. "Nearly finished, mate, be patient," laughed Snowy. "Now I reckon ya must be wondering why I turned. Am I right?"

Snowy didn't even turn to see Garth's nod, before continuing. "Well, ya see, I might have found an explanation to the orange glow, ya know. Something that made sense. Something that solved the mystery. Well, I gots ta thinking. You know the long road can be a lonely place sometimes, and on regular hauls ya gets to know the way. The mind needs a little mystery, ya know. I mean, well, if it ain't goin' to hurt ya, why not let things keep their mystery? Sometimes I wonder about the need to know everything. Kind of robs a man, I think. I reckon somewhere inside of me, I know the answer to it, and I figure if I needed to know I would have, ya know. Besides if it was a wheat silo, it would have made a pretty boring story. Ya get my drift!" He laughed loudly to himself.

"Mate, look closely, if ya feel ya need to, but I reckon sometimes if ya look too close at something, ya get to see only the details. Know what I mean? I am happier remembering that amazing orange glow. I know what it was, it was beautiful. That's all I needed from it."

Snowy nodded to himself, happy with the story he had told, as Garth sat in silence for awhile, thinking to himself about the mysteries in his life. Am I happy seeing just the glow, he wondered? Is that enough for me?

The long road kept moving towards and under them as the horizon kept its distance. Garth found himself nodding off as he stared at the horizon, wondering if he would ever reach it or whether he should even try. The world was round, and one day you would end up following your own tracks. Who knows, he thought, maybe if you learnt to see far enough you might find that the glow on the horizon you endlessly followed was your own. Maybe if you stood still you would catch up to yourself. Maybe.

Garth watched as the old beaten billy tipped forward and the hot water, flavoured with eucalypt leaves, tipped into his metal cup. He dipped the teabag slowly and blew on it for awhile as he looked over the broken ridge before him. The land fell away at a steep angle, the edge soft and crumbling and red earth sloping dramatically downwards.

The view was inspiring, postcard perfect. The land falling and then rising again, small outcrops of red earth against the pale blue sky, the scrub in scattered bursts, dull olive green-grey in colour, taking grip in the rich ochre-coloured soil where it could. Snowy walked past the setting sun to sit near him, haloed for a moment by the light behind him.

"Fine country, hey, mate," he said quietly, sipping his tea, one burly hand poking the embers of the small campfire with a long tapered branch.

"Sure is," said Garth as they both settled down contentedly to watch the day come to a close. It was their second day on the road, and Garth was feeling more relaxed with the constant rhythm of travelling on the open road than he had in months. He had wondered once or twice about Snowy, how the sunburnt trucker found time from the busy schedule of moving freight to enjoy life like this. But he had decided not to ask how or why, just to enjoy the opportunity presented to him. The opportunity for good company and simple living.

"You can see why the blackfellas love this land, Garth," Snowy said, speaking quietly, in an almost reverent tone. "It tells a man a lot, I reckon. Though whitefellers can't always see the messages out here, ya know. All folks is the same, but different if ya know what I mean. We all get raised differently, but I reckon there is somethin' that gives us messages when we needs `em. Blackfella can read the signs in the land, ya know. A priest gets his signs from God somehow. Blokes like you and me, well, we get given our signs when we need `em, and in ways that make sense to us. We just have to make sure our eyes are open, know what I mean?"

Garth nodded seriously. "I hear you, Snowy. I have been searching for signs, for meaning, for so long it seems. I have read dozens of books on various philosophies and religions. New age teachings, old fundamentalist religions. I know out there is what I am searching for. I know it. I must just be searching in the wrong place."

Garth paused and stared into his cup, a little melodramatically. "I have this strange feeling I am missing something. I know, more than most, I think, that the signs are out there, but it doesn't matter how hard I seem to look, I can't seem to find any."

Snowy chuckled into his cup. "Ya reckon, mate, do ya? Listen to yourself. Get any more serious and you are going to blow a gasket. Loosen up. Stop looking, start seeing. Buddy, I reckon you look so close you can't see the writing on the wall, 'coz you've got your nose pressed right up against it."

"...writing on the wall..."

Garth sat up for a moment and stared out across the horizon, his eyes following the disappearing sun as those four words played over and over in his head.

Snowy spoke as he watched Garth straighten up. "See, Garth, I reckon you're probably a well-read man. Know a fair bit about what's in books and stuff. Probably ya do know what to search for. But mate, as I said, different answers to the same questions. Books are written by other people; they answer their own questions. Ya gotta answer your own. Look for what ya know and understand. The bush'll offer ya peace and every man needs that. But you're a product of your environment. Ya can't follow tracks in the sand, so don't try to find what ya want that way. Look at what ya know. Look for messages ya can understand. They won't always be clear, but well, you'll know they're yours, ya know, made for your questions."

Garth's mind raced as he listened to Snowy talk. He knew that he was hearing the right words, and somehow he felt he had maybe even heard an answer. He just couldn't place it right now. He tried to still his mind and concentrate on the bush, hoping it would fall into place.

Snowy kept watching and kept talking, his faded blue eyes moving up and down in unison with the nervous tic on Garth's cheek. He grinned as he watched his serious-minded companion think, almost sure he could hear the wheels turning in that head.

"Garth, now mate, I ain't asked you about yourself much, 'coz I reckon if it ain't offered, it ain't ready to be heard. But let me take a few guesses here. Back in the big smoke I reckon you were from a pretty good family. Respected. Well-educated even. Ya probably had a job you were pretty good at, your own business even, maybe in computers or something. Met a fine lady one day and fell in love. Made that business or career work real well, so ya could feed the mouths of the little ones you and the missus produced. Probably had a lot of people that liked to be around you and perhaps a real good mate or two. People would look at you and say, there goes one fine, upstanding citizen. Look at his lovely house, the two cars, and those smiling, well-fed kids. Ya probably felt pretty proud of yourself, and rightly so."

The angry red sun had disappeared over the horizon, and the deep blue of the desert night was reclaiming its domain. The small fire flickered and danced, painting Snowy's face with its reflected light as Garth stared in amazement.

"Pretty much spot on, Snowy. So tell me, oh wise one, what else do you see? And where is your crystal ball?" asked Garth, laughing a little, just a touch uncomfortable at all that Snowy seemed to see about him.

Snowy laughed himself, deep and long, the sound carrying on the desert air, clear and pure. "Don't have a crystal ball, mate; you do. It's your face, your hands. The way ya move. You look sad, and ya look confused. You're as clear as crystal to read. But ya don't know why you are sad or confused, so ya laugh at yourself a lot. I reckon for a long time you've felt all this. Reckon ya used the standards set by others to achieve, to make yourself seem successful to others, 'coz ya didn't know what ya needed to be successful for yourself."

"See, ya had it all, I reckon. Everyone loved ya, and you loved em back. But for whatever reasons, something gnawed at your belly. Something didn't feel right to you. So ya probably figured something was missin'. So ya started a new hobby, golf maybe, or whatever. But still it didn't go away. So ya bought a new toy. A boat, or a new car or something. Still it gnawed at ya. Didn't seem to go away. The more ya threw at it, the less satisfied you felt. So ya started to work harder, or ya hit the booze. Something, anything to escape the gnawing. The noise in your head just got louder though. Noise so loud, noisy and constant like a waterfall, making it hard to concentrate. How am I doin' here?" he grinned.

Garth picked up a handful of stones and began to toss them slowly one after the other over the edge, watching them bounce down the steep slope, disappearing into the blackness.

"Too close for comfort, Snowy. But don't stop, mate. Let's see how much you can read of this crystal ball on my shoulders."

"You sure, mate?" Snowy watched for Garth's nod, before continuing. "Well I reckon ya maybe started to get angry. You looked around for someone to blame and couldn't find a soul. See, ya probably watched a lot of people in your own way and reckoned they all seemed pretty happy, and you reckoned you should be, too. I mean you had done all the right things, hadn't ya? So you probably found your missus reckoned ya didn't talk anymore, that ya didn't seem to do the things you used to. The small things. Flowers and whatever. And ya probably got angrier at yourself, or sadder maybe. 'Coz look at that, you were failing. Ya weren't making your wife happy, like you promised ya would. Your job was probably pissing you off. Your boat or new car seemed like a lot of hard work and wasted effort, and your mates didn't seem to know what you were talking about anymore. If they ever did. Ya found you were withdrawing into yourself and all ya could hear was that friggin' noise. Filling your head, humming all the time, constant and tiring. Enough to drive a man to drink, or to sleep lots just for the stability of your nightmares. They at least would be something you could handle."

"Next thing ya know, your bags are packed, your kids kissed whilst they sleep, and your wife is crying as you leave. And you hit the road, mentally beating the shit outta yourself, 'coz ya feel like a fool and like a coward. Ya wander aimlessly for awhile, meeting folks and maybe even relaxing a bit, finding a little peace, then beating yourself up again 'coz ya feel guilty about feeling the peace 'coz ya reckon you still are a gutless coward. Every now and then you meet someone who inspires you, or someone who tells ya something that makes sense. So ya smile at their wisdom and file it away in that little box in your head, that box filled with the ideas that shaped the way you used to live. But you don't look at what ya see, Garth. Ya keep replaying that same old "Golden Hits of the Past" tape in your head, mate."

"See, buddy, ya hit the road to move away from stuff, but you forgot to empty your pockets of the stuff when ya left."

Snowy paused and looked at Garth. "Mate, all I am sayin' is that maybe you're still looking for the answers in the same way. Know what I mean? When ya see something that seems to say something to ya, look at it, listen to it. Don't assume a tree is a tree, cobber. Make sure it is; look at it. The word tree is too small a word to describe its wonder and its beauty, anyhow. See more than the word that describes it. And for god's sake, loosen up." Snowy clapped him on the back. "See, buddy, you're halfway down the right track. You did have a perfect life and ya still do. Just so happens ya ain't ready for the perfect lives ya chose, is all. So bide your time, learn, listen and wait. But enjoy the learning and the listening. And most important enjoy the waiting. One day, mate, you're going to be really amazed where ya find the answers you're looking for."

Garth was staring intently at Snowy. "Did you find the answer, Snowy? Did you go through this?" Garth rested his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. His voice quivered as he spoke. "Where do I look, Snowy, what do I look for? For God's sake, do you know?" Garth leaned forward, leaning in close to Snowy, his eyes watering, reflecting the fires glow. "Do you know where I have to look, where I will find my answers?"

Snowy smiled gently as he spoke. "Of course I do, mate. Same place I found mine. Answers are like keys, Garth. Ya need em to unlock mysteries."

Snowy draped his arm over Garth's shoulder and nudged him, laughing. "But for Pete's sake Garth, loosen up. Never forget, ev'rytime ya need your keys, ya can't seem to remember where ya left em. Mate, if I could help I would. But if I tell ya were to find em, well, it's just like reading a book, ya know. It may tell ya how much rain falls in some other part of the world, but ya have to feel the rain on your face to appreciate it. Know what I mean?"

Garth nodded a little sadly. "Yeah, I think so, mate. Hey, thanks though. You were pretty spot on about me. Am I so obvious?"

Snowy smiled. "Garth, you're sharing the same problem a ton of blokes have shared. But you'll handle it your own way. Tomorrow as we drive, look at the the scrub. You'll see heaps of bushes suffering under the same hot sun. But see them, instead of looking. Each one copes and grows in its own way depending on what's at hand. Some have drier soil. Some have more shade, but they all share the same earth."

He clapped Garth on the back. "Speaking of driving, we better get some shuteye, mate. Bit of a long haul tomorrow, then we hit Darwin, if you're still goin' that far. So grab a sleeping bag and watch the stars for awhile."

With that, Snowy turned away and unfolded his bag by the fire and climbed in. With a wink to Garth, he turned over and in a few moments Garth could hear his gentle snores. He prodded the fire and lay down, listening to the sounds of desert insects before slowly drifting off himself.

Waking early, Garth and Snowy made a small fire and enjoyed a cup of hot billy tea, watching the sun rise slowly, its warm red fingertips making the icy blue cold of the night slowly leave their bones.

"Not long to the big smoke, mate," said Snowy. "I have to pull up in Katherine for a few hours before I move on. If you're in no hurry to be anywhere in particular, matie, you'd probably enjoy checking out the gorge they got out that way."

Garth prodded the subdued embers with a long stick. "Yeah, I've been thinking about doing something like that, Snowy. Don't know if I am ready for the city yet. And I have heard Katherine Gorge is particularly beautiful. If you don't mind a crocodile or two for company."

Snowy stood and stretched, then clapped Garth upon the shoulder, his big hand squeezing gently as he grinned. "They're only baby ones, mate, just big enough to keep you on your toes. Well, we best get moving then. Not that I am in any hurry to be anywhere myself," he laughed.

Garth glanced at the wilderness around them and smiled, realising that for some time he had been thinking of nothing at all but his immediate surroundings, the simple beauty of nature around him. Looking out once more at the rocky outcrops, he jumped lightly into the cab of the truck and stared out ahead as it rolled back onto the highway, quickly gathering speed as if moving faster towards a goal.

They drove in silence for a while, a silence that surprised Garth, because for once it felt comfortable and right. Glancing at Snowy he saw the big man was smiling to himself watching the world drive by.

"Snowy" he started to say, before the trucker broke in.

"Nothing to thank me for, Garth. Nothing to thank me for at all", he laughed. "Your company meant as much to me as the ride did to you, mate."

Garth laughed out loud. "You still reading my crystal ball, Snowy. How did you know I was going to say thanks?"

"Just did, cobber. See, you seem to think that when someone offers you something, a ride or words or a feed, that they are doing it solely for you. Which ain't quite true. Unless they are a true saint, and there ain't many of them about, they do it for themselves, also, ya know."

Snowy grinned widely and winked. "And believe me Garth, I ain't no saint. Mate, I picked you up for a couple of reasons. One, I felt like company. Two, it's my own strange sort of karma. I figures if I do the right thing for you, then perhaps you'll pass that on to someone else. And they will, too. Then eventually, right about when I need it, someone will be there to offer me a hand. See what a selfish bastard I am? I have forced you into helping me out." He laughed loudly again, the sound of his booming hearty laughter filling the cab.

Garth looked over to Snowy and smiled. "Glad to be of service then, my friend. Anytime I can help again, you just let me know."

They both laughed out loud together, two men enjoying the simple joys of companionship. As the kilometres rolled by, they spoke of a hundred things, the desert, the open road, swapping small anecdotes and tall stories. Eventually signposts appeared announcing the arrival of Katherine, and within a few moments, Snowy had pulled up just off the main street, near a small pub.

"End of the road, Garth," Snowy said as they both jumped from the truck and walked to the front of it. "Or the beginning of another perhaps."

"Perhaps," said Garth, "though I still am not sure where the last one has bought me."

Snowy shook his head melodramatically. "Geez mate, it takes a while for it to sink in, doesn't it? What did those sign posts just out of town say?"

Garth grinned. "Katherine."

"So, where has this road bought you then," Snowy grinned back, unable to hold a serious face for too long.

"Katherine," laughed Garth. "OK, the message is starting to sink in." He extended his hand to Snowy. "Thanks mate. I have enjoyed the ride and the company. Feel I should say so much more to you for what you have offered me."

Snowy shook his head. "So what, you planning to thank me by embarrassing me. Planning to offer too many complicated words for a couple of simple gestures. Mate, the handshake was enough. Honest."

They shook again, gripping each others hands in a double grip, before spontaneously Garth reached out and quickly hugged Snowy. Snowy grinned and pointed to the crossroad nearest them.

"So, you off to see the gorge then, mate."

Garth nodded. "Yep I guess I am. It feels like the right way to go."

Snowy grinned. "Then it probably is." He turned to walk away, then stopped, watching Garth glancing up and down the crossroads, trying to decide which way actually seemed the right way.

"Mate, just remember one thing I said, ok?" Snowy smiled, though it seemed suddenly a little more serious than usual. "Follow the signs you can understand, the ones written for you."

And then his face breaking into that big grin Garth had grown so used to in such a short time, Snowy pointed to a sign post just behind Garth's shoulder. A large arrow pointed down the road, and next to it were the words `Katherine Gorge.' Looking up at it, Garth burst into laughter before turned back to Snowy. He was just in time to see the trucker disappearing through the doors into the cool darkness of the public bar across the road. Grinning to himself and hitching his kit over his shoulder, Garth followed the signs that lead him to the Gorge.