Paradise Garage | ||||||||
We recommend Internet Explorer set to 1024x768.
© 2002 Brian F. Schreurs
|
Darwin to KatherineAugust 2, 2001
We put our belongings in storage and head out on foot in search of "feed" and medical care for Coughing Towel Head. It takes us a while to find an urgent care facility that can take Jason, but we do find one, and they put him on antibiotics. Then we find a chemist -- Australian for pharmacist -- and Jason is on the road to recovery, courtesy of his own tax dollars. The food comes courtesy of an open market, one of several in Darwin. With the weather so pleasant most of the year, there is no compelling reason to hide indoors. We do some touristy-shopping things for a while, then go seek out our XJ. Muffler City seems to have done a wonderful job of actually fixing the exhaust system and not just attempting to weld it back together. The Jaguar is purring again, with an ever-so-slightly different tone, as they treated the kitty to a true dual exhaust system.
Since I recently owned a Mazda Miata (simply known as the Mazda MX-5 here), I had wanted very much to take the right-hand-drive variant for a spin. Though we do find one, the dealer cannot be persuaded to part with the keys; he is altogether unhelpful and seems to have had his sense of fun surgically removed. However, the MX-5 doesn't really look that much different anyway. Undaunted, Shane takes us to a Holden dealer, where he shows off the Commodore, a rear-wheel-drive sedan that looks to be at least as good as the current American Impala sedan and probably better. It is available with the LS1 V8 engine, and so equipped it is definitely better than any sedan presently available in America at normal prices. Such a nice car. GM is stupid to leave the car here. They could easily double their volume by exporting it. Across the street, we meet Shaun in the truck division of Kerry's Holden. Shaun is pretty obviously enthusiastic about Holden Utes, and when he finds he has an American audience, he wastes no time extolling the virtues of the trucks. Finally, I ask, "well all right then, can we take one out?" He agrees to it, so he and I go for a quick run in a slightly used Ute, perhaps a 1998 model. It has the ubiquitous GM 3.8L V6, but it's mated to a five-speed manual, something that is pretty well impossible to find back home. It proves to be a good combination. Shaun starts off and finds a back alley where he can give the Ute a real flogging. This thing scoots! In American trim the engine produces around 200 hp; it's probably slightly more here, plus it's got a five-speed, and the Ute doesn't weigh all that much. It's quick! Then, to my surprise, he lets me take a turn, so I get to have a go at driving a manual trans left-handed after all. I find I have no great difficulty. My one gaffe is turning on the windshield wipers instead of the indicators. Oopsie. But the Ute itself is nimble and fun, and the shifter is pleasant. It's an excellent package. When we return to the lot, I examine the truck more closely to get an idea for how much it would take to federalize one. Unfortunately, it would take a lot. For starters, the engine management system doesn't seem to be OBD-2 compatible. The headlights are not DOT-approved. The bumpers, while required to meet an Australian standard nearly the same as the U.S. standard, is not quite the same and would probably have to be refitted. The speedometer is metric. The gas tank would need to be moved. The windshield is not marked as DOT-compliant. And, heaven only knows what the EPA would do to the poor thing. I'm so glad my government is here to protect me from these dangerous, irresponsible weapons of death and mayhem. Yeah. Out of interesting cars to bore Jason with, we hit the road. It proves to be a quiet drive, occasionally passing a straggling Jaguar club member, but more often just winding our way through the countryside, around road trains, Britz campers, and the occasional police truck.
"What's the matter, Bry? There's no cars coming," Shane says. "Yeah but it's a--" I suddenly realize the stupidity of my statement on a highway with no speed limits. But it's too late to save me. "There's no fucking speed limit out here you bloody seppo! He'll leave you alone!" So I do it. I pass the cop. And it feels good. I smile, just a little. In Katherine, we find lodging at the Katherine River Lodge, a nice enough place, and away from the Jaguar Car Club of Victoria wankers. We explore the town a bit, though there isn't a tremendous amount to explore right in town. We spend much of the evening planning a new schedule, now that we won't be following the Darwin Run.
|