One Lane Bridge

"One lane bridge" the carload of us sang out in unison. Since we'd made it round to the West Coast, here on New Zealand's South Island, we'd encountered these bridges with increasing frequency. Along with gravel roads. More than once the two went together, and we'd bounce across the bridge, the tyres of my uncle's Holden station wagon doing its best to maintain grip on the dodgy road surface.

This time, we pulled to a stop over to the left, waiting our turn. A large vehicle, towing a caravan, made its way towards us. Uncle raised his hand as the oncoming driver did the same, a silent thank you exchanged. 

This year we, well, the adults, had chosen Lake Brunner as our first camp stop. I was eleven years old, the oldest of the kids, my sister next down from me. She got carsick, so she'd stayed in Mum and Dad's car, which didn't bounce around as much. 

"Hey look down there!" My cousin Michael was peering out the right hand window, down into the dry river bed we were crossing. I shunted over to see for myself. A pair of keas were squabbling over something hidden by the tumble of rocks along the river bed. The sun flashed on the bright colours of their wings as they ran at each other, eager to claim whatever prize they'd spotted. They were soon lost to view as the road twisted round yet another bend in the mountain road.

"Are we there yet?" My younger cousin, Sam. He was only five, so this was his first holidays since starting school. Patience wasn't his strong suit. Michael and I rolled our eyes at each other. We'd lost count of how many times he'd asked the same question since we'd left their place, about two hours earlier.

"No, we're not." Aunty peered over her shoulder at him. "We'll stop for a break soon, though. Alright?"

"I need the toilet, Mummy! And I don't feel well."

Aunty and Uncle exchanged a look. I saw Uncle nod quickly before turning back to watch the road ahead.

Aunty reached into the glove box, and produced a bag of lollies.

"Here. Just one each, mind."

Sam's arm snapped forward, grabbing the lolly bag before Michael or I could react. 

"Hey, Sam, stop that! Mum!" Michael whined. "He's touching all of them. Yuck!"

Aunty reached her arm back, tapping Sam on the leg, the only part of him she could touch. 

"Sam! Choose quickly and pass the bag on. Or you won't get any more today."

Face contorting, tears threatening, Sam made his selection and ungraciously shoved the bag at his brother. Michael made a show of not touching the top lollies, made his own choice and passed the bag to me. 

Silence descended as we made the lollies last, pushing them about from one cheek to the other.

Eventually we pulled over at the top of the pass. I could see my parent's car up ahead, on the shoulder of the road. There was a turning area, with a picnic table on the grass under the trees. Nearby was a crude wooden shed, housing the mountain version of public toilets - a long drop. I figured I could hold on until we got to the camp. Long drops were stinky, and I'd found out last year, spiders and other bugs were often in residence. Not my scene at all. I shuddered.

We parked in behind Mum and Dad, and all of us big kids piled out. Aunty lifted my baby cousin out of her carseat and brought her over to the picnic table.

"Katy, would you mind holding Marie for me please?" 

Nodding, I held my arms out, drawing my cousin close. She was the first baby I'd ever been close to. We were almost exactly ten years apart and I loved holding her. Small for my age, smaller than my little sister, I relished being considered big enough to be trusted with this tiny human being.

It was only mid morning, so all we had was a drink and a biscuit each. Those brave enough to use the horrid toilet did so, washed their hands with warm water Dad poured from the thermos and shook them dry.

"Katy, you're happy staying in Uncle's car? Or do you want to ride with us now?" Mum looked up, a hopeful expression on her face. 

"I'm ok in Uncle's. Me and Michael.."

"Michael and I," Dad interrupted.

"Michael and I, " I sighed, "are playing a game. He's winning so far"

Michael poked his tongue out. 

Pretending I didn't see Mum's silent plea, I tucked my head down on to Marie's head.

Sam decided he wanted to go with Mum and Dad instead of me, so we piled into the cars as Aunty took Sam's booster seat over to Mum. 

"Bye, bye, bye", Michael and I yelled as Uncle took the lead for the next part of the journey. 

Now sitting either side of Marie's car seat, we took turns leaning over to look between the front seats at the road ahead. We were counting cars. Specifically number plates with a '7' in them. So Far, Michael had proved a fierce competitor, and I started to think he had some kind of special long range vision!

Another bend in the road, and another bridge.

"One. Lane. Bridge!" We sang out at the top of our lungs. 

Marie started crying. We'd woken her up.

"Michael, Katy. Please." Aunty reached round, tucking her seat belt under her arm to twist further. She could just touch the top of Marie's head, stroking her hair and trying to sooth her.

"Find her dummy please, Michael." 

She grasped the retracted handle of the baby seat and rocked it gently as best she could.

I pulled funny faces at my baby cousin, while her brother ferreted down the sides of her seat. He retrieved her pacifier, checked it for fluff and popped it in her mouth. Content sucking noises replaced her cries, and Aunty, relieved, turned back to the front, slipping her left arm back under her seat belt.

Contrite now, I got Michael's attention by tapping his arm. On my side of the road, just ahead, was the shredded remains of a massive tyre. The first one we'd seen, Uncle had explained how trucks and other big vehicles could lose a tyre on this gravel because of their size and speed. Thankfully so far, we'd only seen the tyres, not a stalled or stuck truck.

At last we could feel the road dipping back down from the mountain pass towards the valley. The view in front began to open, and we could see a glimpse of blue in the distance. 

By the time we were back on the flat, the mountains now only visible in Uncle's rearview mirror, Michael had dozed off. I tried to remember where our game had ended, if I'd caught up to him. There were less cars on the road now, the day getting later. Most cars we'd seen were headed back towards the East Coast.

I must have dozed off myself, as the whish-whish of the windscreen wipers caught me by surprise.

My left cheek was cold where I'd leaned against the window. I sat up, looking to my left. Rivulets made paths on an angle, driven from the vertical by our speed. 

"Looks like we've met typical West Coast summer weather, kids."

Uncle laughed. 

Michael woke, stretching his arms and glancing around. 

"Are we.."

"There yet.." I finished his sentence, laughing. He crossed his eyes at me.

"Very nearly. About five more minutes,"Aunty said, reading the directions on our booking letter. The weather had cleared as suddenly as it had started.

We both sat up taller in our seats, each determined to be the first to set eyes on our campsite. Soon enough, I spied a promising sign on my side of the road.

"Bags me! I see it, I see it!" I bounced up and down in my seat with glee.

"Alright, Mrs Wriggle Bottom!" My uncle's favourite name for me. 

"Keep bouncing like that and I won't be able to drive straight!"

We turned into the driveway and followed the arrows to the camp office. Mum and Dad pulled up to park beside us. Mum and Aunty went inside, while the two dads got out & stretched after their long drive. 

Back in the cars, we followed the map in Aunty's hand round to our site. Now the Dad's were in charge, and all of us big kids were enlisted to unload the tents, pegs and the mallet for driving the pegs into the ground. Mum and Aunty directed our efforts from their seats in the car. Each time I went back, I heard snippets of their conversation: planning our meals and who would cook which one. Sounded boring to me! I was more interested in the adventures we'd have around the lake. From previous trips, I knew once the chores were over with, the adults were happy to let us explore on our own within the current campground. 

The tents were up, the camp beds (the grown ups) and sleeping mats (us kids) in place, sleeping bags spread out to air. 

"Michelle, Katy." Mum handed us an empty water bucket each. 

"Go fill these at the tap please. It's on the side of that post, just over there." She gestured off to the right.

Happy to talk since we'd not been stuck together the whole way here, my sister and I spent the time deciding which direction we'd explore first after dinner and which to leave til the morning.

Michael and Sam had been given a job each too, we found on our return. And they weren't happy about it. Michael sat glowering over a plate of potatoes he'd been set to peel, while Sam whined as he depodded the peas. In his reluctance for the task, his aim was off, and more than a few peas were landing on the ground. 

Dinner was done an hour later, dishes washed, dried and back in the car. This time of year meant the evenings were light enough for us to go and play with our parents' blessing. Their only stipulation was for us to put our sandals back on. Even Sam was allowed to leave his mum's side.

By the time the sky was darkening, we'd made our way down the river from the lake as far as the bush on it's banks would allow. The boys agreed with us to explore along the lakefront in the morning.

I lay in the dark, trying to figure out what had woken me. A steady drumming noise over my head took a while to make sense to me. Oh, rain! The heavy canvas of the tent both absorbed and spread the sound. Remembering what we'd been taught, I checked none of my bedding was touching the tent, and allowed the steady rhythm to lull me back to sleep.

"Katy! Michelle!" Eyes glued shut with sleep, I was roused by someone shaking my shoulder as I heard our names called.

"Wake up, come on!" 

"Wha….? Wha's going on?"

Sitting up, I dug my knuckles into my closed eyes, trying to wake up properly. I peered over at my sister, to see her struggling as well.

Mum's back was turned to us, as she crouched between our beds. 

"Here, you may as well put these on." She tossed our swimming togs at us.

Seeing our confusion, she pointed through the gap at the tent entrance.

"We have to pack up. The rain's not stopped all night."

Michelle and I looked at each other.

"But we've camped in the rain before. Why do we have to pack up now?"

"Don't argue, Katy! Just...get changed and pack your bag up. I'll see you outside in a few minutes." When we still didn't move, she sighed loudly.

"Come on, girls. Just do as you're told. Move!"

With that she crawled to the tent flap. Only as she stood could we see she was in her own togs, then the flap lifted in front of her and we heard the splash as she stood and walked through the rain pooling right outside.

We scrambled then, dressing and shoving our pyjamas into our bags, the sleeping bags into their cases, and slipping our feet into our sandals. 

Outside, the change in the camp was breathtaking. Rain soaked us in seconds, the ground underfoot a morass of mud and water. It was difficult to see much past our own cars. Uncle and Dad had turned both vehicles around and backed up as close to the tents as they could. Our cousins had already started helping pull up the pegs from their tent. I saw the pile of their bedding and packs in the back of Uncle's station wagon. 

Mum stood under the boot lid of our car, trying her best to exert some order over the contents as it was loaded, saturated. 

"Sorry Mum," I said as I threw my own load in. "Sorry I was so slow."

"Alright love, no time for that now, but thank you. Now go help your sister empty the tent." She smiled to soften her words, her long dark hair dripping from her dash between tent and car.

I've no idea how long that all took, but at some point we had everything back in the vehicles, the dads behind the wheels, and this time, each family was in its own car. 

We joined the throng of cars leaving the camp, the owners able to do nothing but watch as their holiday bookings drove off into the heavy downfall.

Back home, with little memory of the return trip, we took turns to have baths, and change into dry clothes. Uncle and Aunty's house being bigger than ours, the tents and bedding were spread out in their garage to dry. Aunty found a pack of frozen sausage rolls and threw them in the oven and Michael, Sam, Michelle and I hid out in Michael's room, where he pulled out his lego set for us all. 

Unwilling to cut our holiday short, the grown ups spread maps out on the lounge floor to choose a new spot. 

That was the year we 'discovered' Peel Forest. The year a summer storm changed all our plans, and forty-odd years later, I can look back with fondness on the perverse West Coast weather that led us to one of the best holiday camps we had as a family. I remember the excitement as we drove off the road, down the steep embankment to the forest camp. Pitching our tents as far from the amenities block as we could. Walking through the trees to the riverbed behind. That riverbed has taken on almost magical properties in my memory, isolated images of an idyllic week away from school and normal life. Exploring and playing all day in the fresh air of the foothills and forest of Mid Canterbury meant deep, refreshing sleep every night. 

The year of one lane bridges, winding mountain passes. 

The year we broke camp in our swimming togs.