Opa’s Champion Cart
written by: Tim Law
February 11, 1990 will forever be remembered as the day a great man walked free. I and my brother were a whole world away, oblivious, too young to understand that day’s significance. We were in the presence of our own great man, our Opa, Mum’s dad; a plumber, tinkerer, and child at heart.
I remember the heat of that summer day, the sun beaming down as Josh and I looked over the old pram, gathering dust in the double garage. Our youngest brother Stephen was only four, too little to hang out with us bigger boys. At ages ten and eleven, with me the elder, we were bored and looking for something to entertain us. Mum had had enough of our playing computer games and fighting over who was winning.
“Come boys, have you ever made a go-cart?” asked our Opa, a twinkle in his eye.
“What do we need?” we asked, not normally the type of kids that played with tools.
“Some wheels, some wood, and a piece of rope,” said Opa, promising us “It’s simple.”
So there we were with screwdrivers, glue, some cuts of wood, and those big, chunky pram wheels. As the crowd roared while Mandela walked free, we showed our own excitement turning these bits and pieces into our own set of wheels that we then spent racing around the backyard.
Opa convinced us to give this cart a lick of paint, with Josh suggesting we use the old pram’s cushions to soften the bumpy ride. We took it in turns to give each other a push, even taking Stephen on a much slower trip around the track we’d made. We chased the chooks, our dog, even a stray cat who made the mistake of leaping over the back fence to discover what the fuss was all about.
Yes, that day in February was a special one, a day that will forever be etched into the minds of many. It is a day that changed history, but just as important for me, it is a day that taught this young man just what was possible.
***
Later that same year, we discovered that our cousins had built a cart too. I cannot recall if this was after a visit to our place, or if Opa had inspired them as well. Whatever the reason, whatever the cause, having two where there had only been one led to the first, and only, Law verse Cannard go-cart race.
As the older and stronger it was my role to push our cart. Josh was the far better driver, lighter too, which I think was our advantage. The course was set, down the Cannard driveway, around the letter box, past the side of the house, and up the hill into the garage.
“Ready, steady, go!” cried Uncle Jim, the referee, there to ensure a fair race.
We took the hairpin around the letter box side-by-side.
Uphill our cousins dropped behind, and that’s how we won the race in Opa’s champion cart.
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