I realise that some of my friends think it’s a bit of a joke that I’m so into my ute. Sadie, in particular, is forever having a dig at me for being from Deniliquin, the home of the world’s biggest ute muster. She loves to make out that I’m this backwards type from out in the sticks, without realising that the stereotype is on her: she’s the epitome of the cosmopolitan yet somehow clueless jerk born and raised in the inner city.
I’d never attach an Australian flag to my truck, or use it to do doughies in the local parking lot. As if! This thing is my baby, and a beautiful bit of industrial design, which is why I invest a lot in maintaining it. Sure, I might spend more time than is strictly necessary researching under tray tool boxes for utes, but I do technically use it as a work vehicle, as well as recreational one. Having it properly kitted out for precisely what I want to do with it just makes sense. As far as I can see, it’s kind of the whole point.
I’m actually thinking of upgrading my storage rig to include some kind of service body, which is a big step since I’ve never had a covered ute tray. Half canopy options are seeming like a good way to go because they leave you with some uncovered tray space, which never goes astray in my line of work (not to mention when it comes to getting the swags in on the weekend).
Really, there are endless accessories you can add to a bog standard ute. I’ve always been in favour of paying more for customised, high quality aluminium add-ons – they tend to last longer and stand up to whatever my adventures throw at them. I think everything through in great detail; for me, it’s quite a cerebral operation with a lot of design thinking involved.
I guess that’s what you get take a country kid and situate them as an architect at a hip Melbourne firm.