Fieldhands

My dad was a surveyor. My entire childhood I relished in the tales of what adventures he went on as a young unmarried professional, forging into virgin territory and marking out where the roads were to be built years if not decades later. I remember so many occasions where we would be travelling over a brand new piece of highway somewhere and he'd mention that he first surveyed this bit of land 20 years earlier when all there was was a kangaroo and a few trees. On special occasions like school holidays he allowed me to accompany him into the field to either hold the staff (a big long stick with measurements on it) or just plain hang out with 'the guys'. Dad had a team of offsiders that were called Fieldhands. To a kid, they were all gods and they always looked out for me but looking back now, I realise that maybe they treated me so well because I was the bosses kid. I liked the idea of working outside so much so I chose Surveying with the Lands Dept as my school work experience in year 10. I did 2 weeks of being a Fieldhand myself and got to enjoy what Dad had spent his life doing. It's a cool profession. I have absolutely no idea why I never followed through with it in later life. With how my knees and back give me utter grief now at various times makes me think maybe its for the best that I sit here anchored to a desk. To say exactly what has contributed to me to having such shitty joints I probably need to relate a short story of my childhood.
Robert Thompson (now a doctor on Thursday Island I think) and I were besties. Mates of the highest calibre. He was super smart and liked hockey and I wasn't and didn't. But that never stopped us. His dad Brian was the Deputy Principal. Let me just advise any kids reading this, if you have the chance to be best friends with the deputy principal's kid, do it! Having influence at the top is great. Anyways, back to Robert or "frog" as he was known. Frog and I would ride our bikes home from Wollondilly Demonstration School, down Kinghorne Street as fast as humanly possible. Usually in line and tucked down to reduce wind resistance.
We were 12 year old demons!
One particular day, Frog was being dangerous!! very dangerous!! He was on his bike riding down the nature strip on the opposite side of the road as I rode down the bitumen in the left lane as all good safe cyclists know is the safest place to be. He was jumping the ruts left by cars where driveways should have been. Years of cars back and forth across the ground provided perfect launching ramps as he careered down on the verge of total disaster. Was a car going to back out of a garage and take him out or a lady walk across the path only to be collected by Frog at his near light speed. Jump after jump he got air and landed each one perfectly. I was yelling out to him "GO FROG!!!!  GO!!!!!!" I was pedalling hard just to keep up with him, our adrenalin providing extra spurt with the danger that he was inviting into his life.
I remember wondering why I was so high for that split second before I slammed into the road in front of the parked car I had just flown over. Bike helmets were unheard of back then so I'm lucky I didn't actually die I suspect. Whilst so busy giving Frog all the "gee ups" and "yee hars", I had omitted to become familiar with my own surroundings and take the necessary precautions. As a result, I adopted an arcing trajectory as my bike folded up into itself into the rear of the parked car I had just slammed into the back of and I continued on over the top. It hurt like it sounds it hurt. I was on the ground looking up at the sky trying to gather my thoughts. I could hear Frog yelling "are you dead, are you dead?" when a familiar face appeared above me and looked down. It was one of dad's fieldhands. The blond one but name his escapes me now.
"are you OK?"
"I think so"
"here, let me give you a lift home". he extracted the remains of my bike from the arse of the car and loaded it into the back of the work landcruiser wagon. Frog put his in too. I remember Frog and me sitting up front with the fieldhand just looking forward on the trip home. We were all silent, all of us amazed at what had just happened. Then the fieldhand said "That was the fucking funniest thing I've ever seen". I suspect that's still true for him.