GONE IN 30 SECONDS

By Alan Steele

"You Flew your Lear Jet up to Nova Scotia to see a total eclipse of the su-un"        Carly Simon

Well it wasn’t quite a Lear Jet and it wasn’t exactly Nova Scotia, but early in December 2002, seven tiny Cinquecentos DID drive 600 kilometres north from Adelaide into the South Australian desert to witness just such an event. Organised by the Fiat 500 Club of South Australia, invitations were sent to all the Australian Fiat Clubs, as well as to several individuals overseas.

In response to the invitation, my mate Tony M and myself (both from Sydney) loaded my little red 500F "Buzz" onto my trailer behind the ubiquitous Holden Commodore and set off on the 1400 kilometre trip to the South Aussie capital. Overnighting in the mid-western plains town of Hay. On Sunday the 1st of December, 2002 the cars were "officially" flagged off by the Deputy Lord Mayor of Adelaide, with coverage by the local Channel 7 TV station as part of the State’s "The Year of the Outback" celebrations.

The group consisted of two 500Ds, three 500Fs, a Giardinera, as well as a very rare Bianchina. Apart from the Fiats there were several "honorary 500s", three of which were equipped with trailers should the unforeseen happen to any of the babies.

Monday the 2nd saw the cars regroup at the Mainline Drive-In Theatre carpark in the north Adelaide suburb of Gepps Cross. We met our travelling companions for the first time (having still been on the road to Adelaide the previous day) and the group gave Buzz the once-over. Amazingly he started at the first turn of the key - obviously keen to get off the trailer and on the road. Fascinated locals admired the vehicles and wished the group "good luck" on their venture. Then it was into the traffic of the Main North Road - destination Lyndhurst, some 600 kilometres to the north.

The mites battled through the heavy Adelaide traffic, being monstered by huge semi trailers and buses, whose wheels seemed taller than the tiny Fiats. Soon though the group was out of the rat-race and into the countryside, buzzing along through rolling wheatfields on the way to the first stop for a drink, pee and regroup at Tarlee - a railway silo siding town typical of many in South Australia.

North from Tarlee the group entered the beautiful Clare Valley - an area famous around the world for its wine; the road winding, climbing and dipping between the vineyards.

The first lunch stop was in the town of Clare itself, beneath the shaded canopy of trees in the park. Tony M’s pepper pie was delicious - pity for him that I ate it by mistake! The cars were checked over by our resident Fiat 500 guru – Tony P, a few minor adjustments made and then we were on the road again; destination: the town of Melrose at the foot of Mount Remarkable and the half-way point of our odyssey.

Several kilometres from Melrose, Buzz’s fuel light started to flash. No fuel gauge in these little guys. Then it came on permanently. Hmm, I’m in the middle of nowhere, very low on fuel, in a place I’ve never been to before. I know that there are others behind me, but oh, the embarrassment using 20 litres of fuel to travel 250 kilometres in a Fiat 500! Something to do with a 40mm DCOE and 695 cam I’d imagine. I chug past the Melrose cemetery, crest a hill, and there lays Melrose below me. I roll into the only petrol station, remove the filler cap and see a narrow strip of fuel in the bottom of the tank. Just made it!

No one else has arrived yet so I return to the edge of town to wait for them,. The other modified car has returned even worse economy and actually rolled to a stop several kms out of town. I don’t feel quite so silly now - all that torque has to come from somewhere! The standard-spec cars still have 1/3 to 1/2 full petrol tanks - show offs!

Melrose is an old bullock-train town. Back in the 19th Century towns were built "one bullock team" (the distance a bullock team could travel in a day) apart. Melrose had the police station, post office and bank, so was the most important town in the district - which explains why it still survives as a tourist destination today. Copper mining (which proved to be unfinancial) and a brewery were also periods of the Melrose history.

Someone suggested we climb Mount Remarkable, but as it is only an hour or so to dinner, we "deem it wise" to just poke around the town. Besides, its just too bloody high! Tony P lets me have a quick drive of his little blue 750cc/5 speed Bambino - QUICK being the operative word - fantastic.

The pub is an ancient dwelling, the floor sloping at all angles and the ceiling covered with comments from more than a century of patrons, but the tucker is first class and the local history as recalled by our resident travelling historians: Dawn and Peter, is fascinating.

Before departure the following morning, we drive up the lower slopes of the mountain to a lookout and war memorial for our first "photo opportunity".

On the descent back into Melrose, Buzz coasts to a halt. His engine still running, but there is no response to the throttle. A quick check in the engine bay and the circlip holding the accelerator linkage has joined the scenery somewhere. A quick search through the spare bits tin and a substitute is soon found and fitted. This would prove to be the only stoppage by anyone for the entire trip. That is apart from Frank’s little D that just wouldn’t start - until he remembered to refit the low tension wire to the distributor. We nick-named it his "anti-theft device".

From Melrose the scenery starts to change. Gone are the rolling hills of the wheatfields, we are entering the Flinders Ranges and the start of the desert. Next stop is Quorn: the town used in many a famous Australian movie. Tony M and I swap vehicles - I get to listen to the stereo and play with the CB in the Commodore! I radio Peter in his "F" in front of me as his blinker is still on. He’s impressed that it still works!

The town of Hawker is to be a fuel and lunch stop and its here that we encounter our first hippies. There is to be a 4 day music festival a Lyndhurst and the "love children" are headed there in droves. Looking around, it could be the early seventies! Ten thousand of them are expected at Lyndhurst, so it should prove interesting!

I’m back in Buzz after Hawker, trying to figure out what the noise is in the engine compartment. I’m imagining a worn out timing chain, piston slap, and all sorts of horrible things, but surely not - it has to be something loose. We stop at Parachilna - a pub in the middle of nowhere - and find the muffler has broken a weld. Dean comes to the aid with a length of fencing wire and rigs up a temporary repair, which should get us to Leigh Creek and a welder. Thankfully the noise has all but gone. We line up outside the beer garden and the punters are stoked with our little cars. With a toot and a wave we are off into the desert proper.

Travelling behind Dieter’s Bianchina, the road turns towards the Flinders ranges. Framed by the car’s tiny windscreen is Dieter’s car, the road and the mountains in the distance. Its picture postcard stuff - I just have to try to get a photo. My good camera has long since died and all I have is a disposable camera. I try to look through the viewfinder but its too dangerous. So I guess the composition and press the button. If it turns out it’ll be a beautiful shot! Out there somewhere is the ancient volcanic crater of Wipena Pound - if only we had the time!

The traffic is getting heavier by the hour - everyone it seems, is going to Lyndhurst. We get lots of toots and waves. I come upon an old Combi van chugging along, decorated with typical hand-painted hippie symbols. With the Combi travelling at 78 kph and the 500 pulling "at least" 80 clicks, I pull out and overtake him as if there IS a tomorrow. I give him a victory toot and receive a "peace sign" from the driver. At least I THINK its a peace sign! Imperceptively he drifts away in the rear vision mirror.

A new Magna and late-model Bimmer filled with dreadlocks zip past. Hmm - there must be different levels of "hippie-ism". Guys on motorbikes with spare tyres draped over their bodies like bandoliers wave as they overtake. People hang out of 4 wheel drives, grinning from ear to ear at the sight of these little machines heading into the unknown.

Finally we make it to Leigh Creek where we will be staying for two nights. Athos in his Giardinera has been there for hours, having missed us at Hawker he has driven flat out, trying to "catch us up". The place is a modern mining town with all the facilities you could wish for, built at great expense by the then government-owned coal mining company to house 1200 employees and their families. The company was subsequently privatised and automated, resulting in the loss of 900 jobs. We would be staying in one of the houses used occasionally by contractors, complete with all the luxuries of life. Time to kick back with a cool drink and swap some yarns from the journey. Tomorrow is THE BIG DAY!

The eclipse won’t begin until 6.40pm so I have most of the day to get a couple of chores done. First off is a trip around to the other house where our people are staying to check a wheel bearing on the trailer. It passes muster, just needing a nip up. I ask to use the laundry to clean up and am invited to share their breakfast. Sue, unsure of what to bring, has brought EVERYTHING and there, set out on the table is a veritable feast! Even though I have breakfasted on "blokey" cheese on toast; the bacon, eggs, tomatoes, onions, mushrooms and garlic sauce prove irresistable. All washed down with a "short black" naturally! I have to get that muffler welded up so its down the road 6 km’s to Copley and the RAA man.

The fellow has never seen a 500 before and looks under the front of the vehicle for the muffler. I direct him to the back of the vehicle where all the mechanicals live and the job is soon done.

The boss wandered out a short time later, his eyes like ‘two bobs’. "Is it an Abarth mate?" Says he. I assured him it isn’t but displayed the modifications for his appreciative eyes. Meeting someone in the middle of the desert who knows of such things is amazing. "I used to own a 124 Sports!" says he, so he knows what he’s talking about. "I love those Abarth-modified 600s - boy they were quick!" he continues, so I tell him about my 1000TC replica and he is blown away!

While I’m there a Falcon wagon, loaded with luggage, its front twisted from an off-road excursion is dragged in on the back of a tow truck. Its like a scene from a Chevy Chase "Holiday" movie. It is just one of many that day. Another comes in on a tilt tray - the people still inside it. I laugh to myself at their expense. Poor buggers!
Back to Leigh Creek to prepare for the final leg of the journey - Lyndhurst and the viewing area in the desert beyond.

On the way we visit the coal mine workings for another photo opportunity. This time we line the tots up against the leviathans of the open cut mines - a drag line and truck, which have been subsequently replaced by even larger equipment nowadays!

Lyndhurst is an amazing place - normally a pub - and NOTHING else. Its the last place at the end of the tarmac road -where the Strzelecki Track begins. But today its a tent city. There are food vans and tents, a jumping castle and lots of people just milling around. The desert wind is howling and the tents are straining on their guy ropes. Leigh Creek seems like a paradise compared to this lot! In the distance we can make out the concert area - it must be miserable out there!

We climb the steps onto the pub’s verandah and the pungent smell of "wacky backy" is overwhelming. Stunned mullets are draped all over the place. We wend our way to the bar to slake our thirst. Back on the verandah, we encounter people wanting to know all about our little cars. If I didn’t need it to get back, I probably could’ve sold it several times over!

Now comes the final section: out into the desert to the viewing zone. Its only about 9 kms to the edge of the 38 kilometre wide path of the eclipse. The dirt road crosses the path at approximately a right angle and there are vehicles of all descriptions parked side by side for the entire 38 kms. We find a spot on the fence line and settle down to wait the final hours. The wind and dust is incessant so we shelter behind the four-wheel-drives.

At precisely 6.40pm the cry goes out: "its started!" A quick glimpse through the special glasses (I didn’t really trust them enough to use them for a long period) reveals that the bottom left hand section of the sun has been nibbled away by the moon. As the moon blocks out more of the sun, the light goes a deeper and deeper yellow - very eerie - and that wind just won’t stop!

Its time to bite the bullet and move out of the shelter and set up the chairs. An hour later and finally there is the "diamond ring" as the last remnant of sunlight squeezes past the moon. Then it happens - "totality". I feel the hairs stand on the back of my neck. No wonder the ancients held eclipses in such regard. During this period of totality you can safely look at the phenomenon. I whip off two quick photos, grab another quick look and then the second "diamond ring" heralds the finish of the eclipse. Its all over in 30 seconds. Some people cheer, some clap their hands. Most just stand in silent awe. The sun and moon are now sinking together into the desert and darkness swiftly descends.

Back at Lyndhurst we enjoy a gourmet barbecue and a glass of red. All too soon its 10.00pm and time to return to Leigh Creek and bed. The night is pitch black so we stop near the entrance to the mine workings, turn off the headlights and look up at the sky. Its our second ‘treat’ of the day. The sky is just full of stars. We stand there captivated by nature’s beauty. But we must be off - tomorrow we head back to Adelaide.

Back home in Sydney I reflect on the journey: a round trip of 4,000 kilometres for a 30 second high. Would I do it again?

Yep, tomorrow!