Getting 120 hours of driving experience, I’m sure, is not a walk on wheels in the car park for some.
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But we just found the remedy to our deficit after a slow start to my second son’s learner driving journey, when we ticked off more than a quarter of them in just a week.
It only took a trip to Queensland and back, where the owner of the car — that’s me — didn’t touch its steering wheel once, not even to back it into a campsite.
My lanky son said it would be better that way, because neither he, nor my short-legged self, would be plagued with constant seat adjustments to find a sweet spot (and to avoid upsetting the balance of the sleeping bags that were jammed between the back and driver’s seats).
Wrestling my urge to retain partial control of such an ambitious journey, I knew in my heart of hearts that if I let him do this, he would not only get the boost of hours and experience he needed, but also the bragging rights.
“I drove to Queensland and back on my Ls,” is probably not often uttered by many underage Victorians.
Our initial furthest destination had only been as far as Lightning Ridge, but realising the Queensland border was just 45 minutes more down the road, it seemed it would be a missed opportunity to stop short of rolling inside three states on one trip.
My eldest had his 120 hours by the time he was 17.
But this one, my middle child, casually waited half a year before he dawdled into VicRoads for his yellow plates, then wasn’t too enthusiastic about hitting the road much after that anyway.
While we’d worked out sometime around the start of the year that we needed at least two hours a week to comfortably make 120 by his 18th in April next year — doable if we stayed consistent — he was at 69 by the time we headed north late in June.
When we returned, after criss-crossing the outback and adding 2400km to the odometer, he was at 101.
Just like that, the mountain’s altitude had shrunk and the climb to 120 hours no longer seemed as daunting, even though the view at the top will be just as rewarding, especially with this experience contributing to the journey there.
Hours are one thing, and I guess we could have clocked them all up in the Goulburn Valley, during the day, the night, the glary afternoon sun, the rain, the fog.
But in just a few days we encountered almost every imaginable condition on the road, short of ice and snow.
Kangaroos from out of nowhere bounding across the highway, hundreds of emus lining the edges, herds of wild goats forcing their way through fences, bearded dragons ducking in between wheels in panic.
And those were just the living hazards.
Hundreds of roadkill along the highways created more obstacles to safely manoeuvre around.
One day we passed three dead cows and inhaled slowly as we imagined what it might be like to hit something of that density.
There was thick fog in parts, rain so heavy it tested the competence of our wipers, and deep Victorian-style potholes — an y’all know I’m not talking about an era, I’m talking about a state.
We came across furrowed roads, gravel roads, cattle grids, road trains, wide loads to pass (in the pouring rain), all the while carrying extra weight with a tub full of our camping gear in the back and a rooftop tent above.
On the second last day of our trip, when relentless rain set in, we’d had enough.
We did not want to set up in the rain, sleep in it and then pack up wet gear in it again, so we expressed home.
My learner did not even consider relinquishing his grip on the steering wheel that day, despite my constant offers to take over.
So, instead, we had plenty of decent breaks and took 14 hours to get home.
And when we did, his VicRoads myLearners app displayed ‘33 drives in the past seven days’.
So sure, 120 hours is not a walk on wheels in the car park for some, but if your family is inclined to take a holiday every year or two, I highly recommend planning a driving holiday during your child’s learner period to get a whole lot of hours, and kilometres, behind you.