A causeway and a compactor
Home » Blog » Judy Sutherland » A causeway and a compactorWe re-join Judy and Jim on their lifestyle block adventure. Time to build the driveway. How hard can controlling a compactor be?
We have purchased our hill. We now own approximately 1.6 hectares (four acres to you less-informed readers) of mainly gorse-covered hillside.
At present, to access our hill we must negotiate the hazards of assorted vehicles in varying states of decay. And not only vehicles but sheds, drums, plastic and metal, and many other items crying out to be unceremoniously dumped.
Hubby Jim wants to build a big shed (because he is a big man and everything he does is big) to accommodate building equipment, supplies and machinery, vehicles (registered, warranted and used) and a future workshop. Someone (remember?) had the grand idea of filling in the gully from the road to the back of the hill to create a causeway on which 80-plus-year-old Mother could probably drive. This solution also had the bonus of eliminating the need to drive across neighbour’s hazardous land.
A few more dollars change hands and all is underway. The big machines arrive and the pushing and shoving begins. The pohutakawa tree under which sheep rest and where I could imagine I would sit with my laptop typing these words is sacrificed to keep the neighbour warm through the winter months and for the cause(way). Oh well, I will have room with a view instead so don’t mourn its passing.
To fill the vast chasm over which we will drive mountains of dirt is relocated from the back of the hill and soon we not only have a drive but also a level platform on which to build the BIG shed. Yours truly must be part of each step in this our novel project so I am forever on the lookout for a way in which to assist. If I can achieve two objectives in one operation so much the better.
A small machine arrives on the back of a trailer. “Aha!” I think. “That looks about my size! And just think, the exercise it will provide could cause a few kilos to be vibrated off this frame as well!” 
I don gumboots, earmuffs and appropriate apparel and am set by hubby big Jim behind the compactor. For those of you reading this who are as uninitiated as I was a couple of years ago, a compactor is a machine that makes a lot of noise as it shakes and shudders the ground beneath one’s feet. As it shakes and shudders it compacts the stones, or whatever is on that ground, to make a firmer foundation. Fortunately a compactor, or the one I was to operate anyway, had gears which enabled it to go forward, reverse, or stand still without any effort on the operator’s part beyond moving a lever. Now, I am not of similar stature to my husband but am often described as being vertically challenged. Said compactor was quite a determined piece of works and when focused on a target there was little this operator could do to halt it if that focus was on a downward slope!
I find men either admire or are amused by, even in this day and age, the sight of a woman operating a 'man’s' machine. But one thing they do is take the time to watch—with or without the unnecessary language and facial expressions. So, imagine the pride on big Jim’s face as his woman takes on the shuddering beast. He has given me the 30–second instruction talk and away I go. Goodness me, I’ve driven all manner of vehicles over the past 40 years, surely there’s nothing too complex about guiding a mini-steam roller up and down a five-metre-wide by hundred-metre-long slope.
A few hesitant steps and away we go, machine and me. No problem. Just crush the shingle in front as I guide machine gently down the drive-to-be, rumbling and reverberating all the way.
It doesn’t take long … the machine has not quite got its sights on same target as its operator. How does one steer this thing? No, the 'handlebars' don’t move. Oh, there are no wheels to turn. So what does one do when one is heading in the undesired direction? Maybe I can just stop it. But how does one not-too-large-and-powerful woman hold on to a heavy machine set into forward gear proceeding in a downwards direction take one hand from the handlebars to move the gear stick into neutral? Answer: with much difficulty and an anguished expression!
No, I didn’t find some dormant strength within myself. No, I was not able to maneuver machine to chose a more sensible path. I consoled myself that it was only a machine, hopefully covered by insurance, and surely hubby would rather have me alive and machine dead than vice versa! It is amazing how many thoughts pass through one’s mind when facing impending disaster.
However, brain kicked in at about this point and I realised that the best choice and most logical was to take one hand off machine, pull with all my might with the remaining hand and make a grab for the operation lever.Decision made, I acted. Machine stopped before quite teetering on edge of bank.
“Having problems down there?”
“Hey, keep to the drive!”
“Flex those muscles!”
I turn around, wave with a smile (yeah, right!), allow gallant hubby to straighten machine and we continue on our merry little bum-shaking, body-rattling way …
