The Red Terror was a u beaut ute

I felt like a bit of a goose driving a Toyota ute to the Deniliquin Ute Muster.

Not because it was a ute but because it had AVIS painted very boldly on the passenger door.

I'd jokingly suggested I rent a ute but didn't expect there'd be one waiting for me at the airport in Albury.

Anyway it was a lot easier to drive than the 1970 Falcoln ute I used to own when I lived in the Kimberley and the Northern Territory in the early 80s.

That one was red, although I later had to replace its tailgate with a yellow one. With the black tyres, my Red Terror represented the Aboriginal colours.

I'd bought it from a depot for old government cars in Derby.

It had a lot of things wrong with it, and enough rust to sink a battleship but I loved that ute.

The gears would get stuck and I'd have to open the bonnet, jump out of the car and wiggle them around. And it was hard when I was at the top of a hill!

Then jumping back in I'd wave to all the people laughing at me.

But my beast certainly wasn't the hotted-up version of a ute that you see at the ute muster - with bullbars, aerials, flags and massive headlights and stickers of cow horns and pubs the owners had drunk at stuck to the rear windscreen.

I doubt if I would have been let into a B and S country ute club.

And the burnouts and donuts I did in it were not intentional.

It could go almost anywhere a four wheel drive could go and I drove that ute all over the country - across the Kimberley several times, up the Tanami from Alice Springs to Wave Hill and then on to the Kimberley, and eventually from Darwin to Sydney via Mt Isa and western Queensland.

Many people - including scores of kids - got lifts with me, as they piled into the back. Those were the days when you were allowed to do that.

While dust streamed in through every crack, music blasted from my portable tape recorder. The tapes would be played until the dust got the better of them.

On the back, I had a tin box with my food and gear, another with tools and ofcourse a swag. You could live out of it.

But it wasn't secure. Several times I had things, including my spare tyre, stolen out of the back - usually when I was in town.

I also had a dog who sat in the back, but not as obediently as most you see. She had a habit of jumping off at traffic lights to hide in the shade.

She'd been given to me by Aboriginal people from Borroloola in the Northern Territory and her name, Iyupi, meant good. Bit of a misnomer. Bitsa may have been better.

I eventually sold the ute to somebody in Adelaide for a few hundred dollars who I think just wanted it for spare parts. I was sad to see it go, but relieved to buy a car that didn't need the gears unjammed everytime I got into it.