The countryside near where I grew up has a lot of steep hills and valleys. Narrow roads with a thin strip of bitumen and lots of gravel. I was in my parents’ XL Falcon at the top of one hill when I saw a fully laden truck at the top of the next hill coming towards me. He started get a bit of speed up when a ’58 Chev Biscayne decided to pull out and get past him. The Chev’s suspension must have been a bit tired, as it started to swerve off the road, the driver corrected it, only to connect with the side of the truck, not once, but a few times. I managed to stop the Falcon to be met with the vision of a shower of chrome strips, door handles, hub caps and other Biscayne bits ‘n pieces. We were all pretty shaken up, particularly the family in the Chev, but it left a lasting memory with me.