Remember the builder's handcart: a box on two wheels, with a T-shaped handle at the back? Imagine it. You are fifteen years of age, five feet tall and slightly built. You have been told to take a load of materials to Cowfold.
Your handcart has its two wheels and handle resting on the ground all ready for loading. This should be fun. Bricks, cement, sand, timber, tools, trestles and scaffolding go on. At last you're loaded; your only doubt is, will you be able to see over the top?
You attempt to lift the handle -- your arms stretch two inches but it stays firmly on the ground. The load is off balance. You reload it. Now the handle lifts easily - narrowly missing your chin as it flies past and deposits the load all over the yard!
The foreman, who has been hovering in the background, having a good laugh, now suggests that the handle is rested on a trestle so that the cart stands level. You try it and the truck is successfully loaded. You have mastered the handcart.
Pushing the cart up the High Street past Ruff's the cycle shop the doubts return. This is a small hill, what about Crouch Hill? The future is soon obscured by more immediate concerns.
The George stands on the brow of the hill; from there the slope down is gentle and at the bottom the road lifts enough to slow the cart to a manageable speed; even so the last hundred yards is covered in great, sliding leaps as you try to retain control.
On steeper hills the problem is greater. The solution? To steer the nearside wheel on to the verge to slow it down, a delicate operation. Too steep a bank and the cart turns over, spilling the load. Too soft a verge the nearside wheel stops dead while the offside keeps going. If you keep hold of the handle you get cracked like a whip.
Uphill had its obvious problems. I still prefer a lorry.
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