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At 01:27:20 on 28.08.10, Polkadotpolly wrote:
don't have anything on horses but we have a legendary possum in our area, he is huge and old, has been around for years, but no one has managed to shoot 'im yet...well, we were coming home from the pub one night after a social evening, hubby and the other farm manager were drunk as skunks and I was driving. We were crossing the bridge and this huge possum wanders out onto the road, both hubby and farm manager were jumpng up and down screaming at me to run 'im over, run 'im over !!!! They made me stop and they jumped outa the truck armed with a pen and a chisel ( why the chisel was in the truck is beyond me ) but the possum carried on his merry way, as far as I know he is still out there somewhere, and I can honestly say that I have never seen a possum so big, and I could never run over such a legend !!! |
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At 02:48:31 on 01.09.10, kibby wrote:
Well i dont know any horse legends, but there was a legend of a haunted stretch of road. about 2 hours from where we had lived.. I appologise for how long this story is.. First of all you need to know about the Pilliga. The Pilliga is a stretch of road between Coonabarabran and Narrabri; it’s beautiful Ironbark trees stretching along the length of the Newell Hwy, Cypress pines dotted throughout.
Now the Princess, she was a lady who lived recluse, white hair, carted her trolley full of God only knows what everywhere, right up and down that hwy. Every now and then thumbing a ride off a truckie travelling north. She never talked much, just mumbled under her breath, or so the story goes.
Usually she was seen late at night, shufflin’ her way up that highway, pitch black all around her, the only thing that could be seen was the white of her wild hair, knotted and matted into one big pile on top of her head. This all came to an end, one sad night. You see this truckie, bit sleepy he was, it had been a tough day, his eyes were beginning to grow weary, as he mounted the top of the hill, his load tuggin’ on the back of his truck, he saw the white wild hair of the Princess, in the middle of the road. He pulled on the jacks, tryin’ desperately to pull that great hulkin’ machine up in time, watching as she ran towards the truck, her arms open wide. He screamed out of terror, tears floodin’ down his face as he watched her disappear under the big black bull bar. Finally the truck came to an ease, smoke billowin’ out from under the wheels, he flew out the cab, screamin’ out for her, not wanting to really look, knowin’ there’d be nuthin’ left. The truckie scrambled down lookin’ for any sign, but the road was so dark, and nothing could be seen.
Well I don’t know what happened to that truckie, but as the story goes, she ran towards that big hulkin’ machine skiddin’ to a halt, her eyes as wild as her hair, and I just about reckon that if anyone was standin’ nearby they would have heard a screachin’ laugh echoing throughout the soldier tall Ironbark gums. Her trolley apparently stood abandoned on the side of the road, by all accounts the coppers took that away, probably still sittin’ there in the lock up, rottin’ away, unlike the Princesses memory. She wont let ya forget her anytime soon.
Ya see the Princess haunts that stretch of road, as short as it is. Wanderin’ up and down, appearin’ and disappearin’. Many a truckie won’t stop there to sleep; no matter how much their eyes are buggin’ out their head. Nope they will keep on chuggin’ through until Narrabri to sleep. Rumour has it, she will come and wander out into the middle of the road, runnin’ for the front of the truck just as she did on that fateful night.No one knows her name, where she came from, what her story was... It makes you wonder what makes a woman become so crazy, so desperate? But she has a name that is fitting, the Pilliga Princess, as the Pilliga was and always will belong to her.
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