Your words on slipping and sliding would at first glance seem best directed to the two-wheeled brigade. However, they reminded me of a similar four-wheeled incident in my youth which may be apposite even today.
Perhaps a little background might not go astray. (God, anyone can see I’m not a writer, unashamedly using tired old clichés like that.)
In the early days of road-building out here in the colonies, we copied an 1840’s London practice of “woodblocking.”
“The method utilised Australian hardwoods which were exceptionally well suited to the task and very long lasting. From today’s perspective the use of so much hardwood for street making seems profligate, but in 1880 it seemed the Australian bush could yield up a cheap and durable source of urban improvement for the foreseeable future, and the roads, which were better than anything previously built, were enormously popular.
“Enormous interest was aroused by the question of how best to construct a woodblock road, both within the engineering fraternity and by those interested in sanitary affairs. The continuing problems with jointing, and ongoing public doubts as to what the gaps might harbour, resulted in experiments with ever decreasing size of openings, so that by 1900 the blocks, steeped in a tar solution, were hammered up as close as possible. This minimised rounding at the edges of the blocks. A top surface of tar was added and in many cases the woodblocked road outlasted the hard bluestone cubes which were often laid at busy intersections.”
Ok, where were we? Ah, yes, slip, slip, sliding away.
One problem with these woodblocked roads was their slipperiness during or shortly after rain. As you correctly stated, tar is slippery, but even with the wearing away of the tar mentioned above, the exposed timber was equally dicey in the wet.
These woodblocked roads were long-lasting. The following incident took place possibly sixty to seventy years after the road was first laid. It involved a tram track set in woodblocks and a Fiat 500 Topolino, possibly one of the earliest “mini” cars. The car weighed in at less than half a ton, and also had extremely narrow tyres, features which may have been significant in the context.
So, it had turned into a dark and stormy night as I paraphrased Thomas Gray and slowly homeward drove my weary way. I’d been with my lady love most of the evening; it had been a physically draining experience for a tyro such as me at these trysts, and in short I was stuffed.
I guess my mind was dwelling on the recent past, and consequently I failed to notice the indifferent road surface. I was driving on a wood-blocked section of one of Sydney’s main arteries when a front tyre of my Topolino caught in a tram track, or rail, and the other tyre lost most of its traction on the slippery wood. The end result was that my “Little Mouse” followed the tracks through a right-hand turn, whereupon I decided that wasn’t the way home and brought the car to a standstill. While stationary I turned the wheels (naughty, I know, puts strain on the steering box) to break the traction with the steel rail and proceeded on my uncertain way.
Doesn’t sound so spectacular now it’s reduced to words. I guess you had to be there.
Here’s some pictorial history:
http://www.cityofsydney.nsw.gov.au/history/SydneyStreets/How_to_Build_a_Street/Woodblocking/default.html
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedi...x-Topolino.jpg
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