Call it a mid-life crisis, call it trying to recapture a spent youth, probably both. But for years I’d heard my Dad speak volumes about a funny little Fiat he used to own called an 850 Sport Coupe. With a rear mounted 903cc four producing just 52hp when fresh, I never really ‘got’ these cars, but Dad loved both of his.
He bought one brand new in the 60’s and thrashed it all over the place, eventually rolling it on a dirt road, and replaced it a few years later with a near new slightly used example. He told stories of winning a drag race against a 350 Monaro (on wet grass!), of taking it camping in the outback, and of bombing it through the dirt roads of the Red Centre around Alice Springs. It sounded like a fun car.
One day a few years back I was zinging through the Adelaide Hills on my way to Macclesfield when I saw a pretty little red car for sale on the side of the road. Those four big headlights were unmistakable; it was an 850 Coupe! I immediately hit the brakes and stopped for a closer look, and it turned out to be nice, clean 850. Not a show car by any standards, but a good solid driver. I snapped a couple of pictures on my phone and emailed them back home to Dad along with the owner’s phone number and didn’t think much more of it.
It was Mum’s stern face that told the story when I got home a few days later. It turned out that Dad had phoned the owner, and the price was just good enough to be a real temptation. Too much of a temptation it seemed, and after 35 years, Dad was the proud owner of an 850 Coupe once more. He was ecstatic. Mum…. not so much. Continue reading
