Well, this hot vaxxed summer thing ain’t exactly going to plan is it. More like a tepid damp squib. I suppose it’s all that hope and promise unfulfilled which jars the most. There were supposed to be unlimited hugs and nonstop parties, the kinds of things almost all of us have gone without for two years. Instead we get to spend the summer cooped up with Uncle Omi enduring The Ashes.

If Christmas were a Christmas present it would have been the kind of one you tactfully accept and immediately place on the regift pile, hoping that the next one finally brings you that shiny bike you’ve had your eye on. In the end I did well for Christmas gifts, mainly because I embraced that newfound mantra of individual responsibility and thought f**k it. New belt, new shoes, new car. If only I could get some new rapid antigen tests.

So the belt, I mean car. Ford Territory. 2009. Immaculate. Judging by its condition it may well actually have been in the care of one careful lady owner. It’s still in the state where I feel guilty about loading it with a bike and treading in half of Red Hill in the footwell. Today I ate a muffin with the utmost caution, catching and recycling crumbs off my lap. I bet no-one has even thought about the prospect of sleeping in it.

As test drives go, the journey from Canberra to Tumbarumba via Gundagai is quite the examination. Though to tell the truth, everything was so smooth and cruisy I was feeling very sedate by the time I reached Murrumbateman and picked up a coffee. And muffin.

At Coolac, a few random beeps enlivened events. I still have no idea what they were all about but my best guess is speed cameras. Such are the joys of discovery, frequently embodied in the age-old use of windscreen wipers to indicate.

Turning off the Hume Highway, the first encounter with dirt came on a short stretch down to Adelong Falls Gold Mill Ruins. It was nice to reach the parking area without every bump in the road flowing through my hands and arms and shoulders and back. The only alarm was the slight residue of dust on the shiny white exterior, again besmirching its untainted soul.

The falls were busy, but this was a warm Saturday and it soon became clear there were plenty of swimming holes and replenishing rapids along the river. I’m not quite sure where all these people came from given the size of Adelong itself; I guess passing through, touring, going on extended test drives and the like. Still, it was a nice spot to pause and amble and eat a sandwich from my fridge plugged into one of three power outlets available.

Through Batlow and Tumbarumba I was reminded of Saturday afternoons in small town Australia, where small towns become even smaller. Barely an IGA and a sleepy pub open to distract from the nothing much going on at all. It feels all very siesta like, as lackadaisical as the large Australian flag hanging limply in the front yard of a wooden cottage.

And what else to do but naturally acquiesce to the next part of the test drive experience: sleep. The excess of space in the Territory provides the option to lie flat. To lie flat parked under a shady tree, the open back door framing views of a burbling river as chirpy wrens and a delightful breeze induce that state of lolling semi-consciousness. Everything working as it should.

I had parked at Paddy’s River Flats, where a free campground attracted plenty of others with the allure of flushing toilets and hot water. Other than one or two tents, most visitors were equipped with opulent caravans and big rigs and six ring barbecues and diesel generators and that most prized accessory of the dyed hair nomad, the satellite dish. The fact that I could just about arrange seats in a car to lie flat seemed relatively insignificant.

Without a TV I was content to make a cup of tea and sit in my chair beside the river for a while. I would have gone for a drive to explore some more but I was reluctant to risk losing this prime waterfront location. Lessons for next time, where bringing a tent – even if half-heartedly assembled – would at least allow me to mark my territory.

Unable to sit and do nothing for too long, I set off on a walk downstream where there was the promise of some waterfalls. Unfortunately the track to reach them had fallen into considerable disrepair following floods and fires, and it simply became too much to try and bush bash my way through. The road near the campground was quiet and I walked along this for a while instead, soaking up the golden hour as vistas opened up.

It was disappointing not to see the falls but there was another way, another time. An episode in which the Territory really felt at home, really felt like it started to belong. Seeing me through a reasonably comfortable night, the car took me along the road to the falls, twisting downwards to a parking area among the eucalypts. The first orange light of the rising sun lit up a picnic table and beckoned me to have breakfast and a cup of tea. The whistle of the shiny green kettle was poor competition for the sound of thundering water rising from somewhere deep below.

And what a spectacle Paddy’s River Falls turned out to be, that classic Australia assemblage of escarpment and water and generous growth fed by never-ending spray. A wonderful, inspiring culmination to this test drive that evokes the promise of more adventures, more enchantments, more new territory to come.

Now all that is left is to retrieve the bike also comfortably stored in the back, and adventure on two wheels instead. But that is a story, a gift, for another day.