Everyone loves a bit of carnage. I think it’s in our nature to want to smash (think: naughty activists), or watch something be smashed (delusional pacifists) every once in a while. I’m no Freud, thank goodness or I’d have a whole bunch of other issues to deal with, but perhaps there is some latent quality in all of us to want to bust through our corridors and start ‘putting caps’ in things … perhaps. I work mostly with words, so the only dangerous activity I really partake in is busting through bad spelling and putting ‘caps lock’ on things, which clearly puts me in the delusional pacifist category.
So imagine my excitement when, in doing research for a Getaway Magazine column (Trailer Talk – July 2012 issue), I came across a trail of carnage that I could legitimately add into a column that usually deals with how to stay safe on your travels.
The world of caravan demolition derbys
In certain parts of the USA, UK, and New Zealand (and previously at the Dunswart Oval in Boksburg, of course) crashing your caravan is the aim of the game, and failure to do so can result in punishment. Check it out.
OK, so the trailers aren’t exactly your aren’t your top-of-the-range holiday wagons, but I still think the whole thing is nuts. I pulled out some of the rules of caravan demolition derbys that highlights the ridiculousness of it all.
Rules of caravan demolition derbys
- Drivers have one minute to hit someone else’s caravan. If the driver does not hit a car within the time limit, he will be disqualified.
- Minors must have a notorised release from their parents or guardians in order to participate in caravan demolition.
- No infield and track destruction will be tolerated. Only caravans and their towcars may be destroyed.
- Cars must have functioning brakes before the beginning of the heat.
- All doors must be fastened shut by wire, straps or welding.
- The last two cars moving, in all events, will be officially proclaimed the winners.
The lesson (there’s always one)
Trailer maneuvering is an art that we’ve all bungled at some point, so if you can take anything from this, let it be this: relax, that dent in on your Jurgens (from the last time your wife tried to do some artful reverse navigation) isn’t so bad, in fact it’s hardly noticeable … hardly.
Image courtesy of Anna Doris on Flickr
