Articles by Clive Mathieson

Every second car in Alice Springs is covered with stickers and dust. Some bashers are bold enough to begin the long drive home. Others, like our weary crew, opt to put the car on a truck or train and instead fly or hire something faster and more reliable for the trip back to Adelaide, Melbourne, Sydney, Brisbane or Darwin. I'm not sure if any of the West Australian bashers are game enough to cross the Nullarbor. Matilda will need some TLC when we get home. There's the obvious issues of the distributor and the shockers. A few things have fallen on - mirrors, speakers, door handles. And the roof, which is covered by canvas, will need attention before the next winter comes. Mike's talking about sanding back all the wood and getting the wooden slats on the roof fixed. It was wonderful to get Matilda bashing again. She was recognised and welcomed by veteran bashers everywhere we went. It's still uncertain, however, whether she'll Bash again. The crew, having lost its Bash virginity, is keen to go again, becoming part of the "Bash Community". But the old girl, approaching 60, is definitely feeling her age. It's been 25 years since her first bash - she was a little over 30 at the time. That's an eternity in car years. Bash veterans also tell us that the tracks and routes are getting tougher and longer. Most of the cars, too, are specialised "Bash cars". They are not the original old bangers that entered the first Bash. They have fantastic suspension, strong re-engineered engines and eskies built into the back seats. They're great to drive. These new breed can, mostly, cope with the tracks. Matilda can too but how long should she be asked to? She needs to get out and run. But does she need to do it through rocky creek beds and deep sand? That's up to Mike. Bashing's not for everyone. It's unbelievable fun and rewarding but can be tough, dirty and tiring. Still as they say, repeatedly, on the road ... "that's Bashing". I'll be back.  

 Almost too easy, although a handful of cars will still limp into Alice under tow. Matilda, I am proud to say, is not one of them. With her distributor cap still held together with gaffer tape, with her front shock absorber abandoned and with an expertly rebuilt attachment for the rear leaf spring suspension, she is in actually in far better shape than many of the others. The engine's used a little oil but she is running beautifully, sitting on 90-95kmh on the bitumen. Windows down, hangover clearing, it's a lovely run into Alice in convoy. In Alice, we're supposed to meet up with all the other state-based Bashes - NSW, Victoria (who we've already encountered less formally), Queensland, Western Australia and the NT. There'll be 2000 bashers and hundreds of cars, most, thought not all, older than 30. I am envisaging a few roads closed through the centre of the town, a few kids waving flags. Instead, it's a complete schemozzle. Our SA leg of the convoy tries to stick together but pretty soon the lack of directions, the confusion caused by overlapping Bash convoys and the tailbacks caused by cars overheating in the 35C temperatures create utter mayhem. Over the UHF, the officials try to maintain order, but it's hopeless. The police are getting testy and the whole thing just becomes a challenge to get to the lunchtime marshalling post. After lunch, timed to coincide with the start of the annual Henley-on-Todd regatta (you've seen the footage of the boats racing in the dry, sandy riverbed), everyone checks into their hotels, grabs a welcome shower or a swim and, in most cases, passes out in a bed for the first time in a week. At night, Variety has organised a massive event at the Alice Springs showgrounds, drawing together all 2000 bashers to celebrate 25 years of Bashing. Matilda is one of the original Bash vehicles, having come second in Dick Smith's first Bourke to Burketown run in 1985. Having made it through the past eight days, she's now completed 11, raising, with our last contribution, more than $110,000. That's still less than some cars raise in a single year (one NSW entrant pulled together $350,000 this year alone), but it still something to be extremely proud of. At the national gathering, Matilda is featured in the footage of the first Bash. This year, she's helped the SA contingent, with fewer cars running than most other states, claim the title as the biggest fund-raisers, narrowing beating NSW with their $1.9m. Surprisingly, it's a pretty big night.  

Now I can't live without them. For hundreds of kilometres you follow them. You can't see the road for the dust, but you can see the little flashing orange light that sits on the back of every Bash car. They look like the lights you get on the top of road-workers trucks but they are life-savers. Often you can't see the road; You're just hoping the car with the dust light in front of you hasn't run off it into a tree. You trust their every twist and turn, following the light.It's day six of the Bash and we're battered and sunburned but intact. For almost a week we've been racing through the most beautiful country central Australia has to offer. Red ochre, saltbush scrub that has gradually given way to desert proper, and dust, dust, dust. The Bash tracks vary enormously; Sometimes, though very rarely, it's the bitumen highway. Often it's the dreadfully corrugated tracks that criss cross this country. Occasionally, it's deep, sandy or rocky creek crossings that you have to crawl through. Matilda, our 1951 International truck, loves this country. She's in her element at 40-60mph on dirt tracks. Any faster on the bitumen and she complains. Any slower through the rough stuff and the 2.5 tonnes or metal and wood in her isn't happy either.Day three wasn't the best. The travelling bush mechanies had to completely rebuild, with welders, angle grinders and chisels, a new mount for the rear leaf springs, which gave way during a particularly rough stretch. Oh, and there was also the front shocker that detached and smashed the distributor cap (could have been far worse). The distributor is still held together with gaffer tape. But apart from those minor setbacks, she's in fine form. Back in the bush after 10 years couped up in garages and museums.Yesterday, her crew, the Border Control boys, won the award for the best performance of the day. Basically, it involved scamming real dollers (as compared to the fake Bash Bucks used as currency on the SA leg of the national Bash) from Victorian Bashers who accidentally came through our checkpoint on the SA/NT border. Spyder Everett and Wilbur Wilde (check spelling, sorry) were particularly generous. It's a great win for Matilda and her crew. We're still hoping to do well in the running for the best "virgin" (first time) crew.This is a fantastic event. You travel through stunning country very few people get to see - running on dirt tracks through private property and Aboriginal land. And the camraderie between the Bashers is amazing. Most are in it to have fun and raise some great dollars for charity. But if anything happens on the road, you are overwhelmed with kindness. It's not a race, so cars will spend hours helping others less fortunate. At night, it's gather in the mess hall or around a campfire for beers and war stories.Two more days, and it's on to Alice Springs, where all the state-based Bashes converge. 

The good news is we're not the first car to break down. The poor Mr Whippy entry didn't make it past Gepps Cross, barely 20km from the start line on Adelaide's northern outskirts.Dunno how serious it is as we raced past at, oh, 60km/h, but there was a wheel off, two mechanics' cars and a lot of worried faces. There was talk on the UHF of a transmission gone outside Spalding (look it up on Google Maps).It was a great sight this morning as the 91 cars in the 2009 SA Variety Club Bash lined up in the CBD for the start. The work that's gone into the vehicles is extraordinary. All pre-1974 but many completely rebuilt, some with throbbing V8s. Fire engines, ambulances, utes, cars with dunnies on the back, cars with Nemo on the roof. And everyone dressed in costumes. Obi-Wan Kenobi, Shrek, doctors, Scotsmen, suicide bombers, fairies, brides and "the only gay in the village".And then there's Matilda. Second oldest car in the fleet and, as everyone reminds us, the only "woody". Poor girl hasn't had a proper run for years and, after just two hours on the road, heading north into the South Australian midlands, she's got a beautiful hum.She sits on a comfortable 60mph (no km on this odo), the cobwebs are being blown out and I reckon (here comes the hex) she'll be fine.Matilda's done more than one million kms, most of them on dirt. Michael, our intrepid crew leader, has pretty much had the important parts rebuilt - engine, front end, shockers. She's as heavy as a bastard to steer (the triceps really feel it in the cities) and the brakes take some getting used to (she's got the stopping distance of a fully laden fuel tanker) but, after a little bit of time behind the wheel, you're in sync.Despite the fun and mayhem of the Bash - which, basically, is about cheating and bribing your way to the podium - no one forgets what the event is all about, which is raising money for kids.Just about every car had freebies for the kids who came out at dawn this morning to see the fleet away. And some of the fundraising efforts by the crews are awe-inspiring.A bunch of unassuming guys, dressed as Kenny from the movie of the same name (and with an extraordinary V8 under the hood) have raised $163,000 for this bash alone. Pales our little $17,000, which we are still so proud of.Gotta love the Kenny boys, though; They just slowed down to allow us to overtake them, giving Matilda the distinction of actually passing someone.It's on to Arkaroola tonight, in the northern Flinders Ranges. Beautiful country. Then into the deeper outback before crossing the NT border and swinging into Alice Springs, hopefully intact, in seven days.Stay tuned for more updates. And go to adelaidenow to follow the adventures... 

Open roads. Camp fires. Cold beer. No mobile phones.Sounds like fun, doesn't it? Now let's add a couple of caveats. You're in a car that's at least 35 years old - and travelling through country where mechanics and spare parts are thin on the ground.You've got to raise at least $9000 before you even hit the road - in the face of the worst financial crisis the world's seen since the Depression.You can't expect much serenity. There are a couple of hundred strangers along for the ride. Oh, and it's hardly a meander. It's not exactly a race, but in one frantic week days you'll rack up hundreds of kilometres a day as you career from Adelaide to Alice Springs through some of Australia's harshest country.Actually, it still sounds like fun. Welcome to Bashing for Variety.Tomorrow, four of us - Mike, Easty, Gaz and myself - are saddling up for the up for the 2009 National Variety Bash - a week-long romp through the South Australian outback to raise money for the Variety children's charity. It ends in Alice Springs, where the other state-based Bashers converge for one almighty, 2000-strong shindig.The rules of Bashing are pretty simple. You need to find a car made before December 1974, you need explore the most inventive ways to raise thousands of dollars for Variety (which has collected tens of millions over the years through such events), and you must have fun doing it. One of the most coveted awards is “outright cheat”.Our trusty steed is Matilda, a wood-panelled International wagon (1951 model AL110 for the experts) fast approaching her 50th birthday.We might be virgins - the Bash community's playful term for Bash first-timers - but Matilda's a veteran. In fact, she took part in Dick Smith's first Redex Variety Club Bash (as it was then known) in 1985. With a crew that included my old man, Alec, she came equal second in the Bourke to Burketown rally (behind the late wine doyen Len Evans).Matilda eventually completed 10 bashes - and, extraordinarily, one fully fledged rally - raising $96,000 for Variety. But, in recent years, she has been gathering dust in museums and garages.Last year, Dad reluctantly sold her to Mike, knowing she was going to a good home. At not-inconsiderable expense, he's bringing Matilda out of retirement for another waltz through the outback.Out timing hasn't been great. I think we finally decided to enter the Bash about a day before Lehman Brothers collapsed in September, sending the financial world into paroxysms and causing just about anyone we'd ask for money to slam shut their wallets.A fury of wine sales and Saturday morning sausage sizzles outside Bunnings by my colleagues in Adelaide got the money moving. And, eventually, the good cause that is Variety started to draw the sponsors. (Special thanks here to Carsguide, U-Store it, LaVina Estate Wines, Three Oaks Cider Company, T&R Pastoral, Prestige Auto Solutions, Ginn Finanacial Advisors, Royce Cross Electric Motors, Ausco Modular, The Australian, Bunnings, Broadacres, Visual Marketing and more). We’ve now raised more than $15,000 for charity.While that process was limping along, there were the issues of choosing a theme for our entry (those debates continue) and getting Matilda back into Bash shape (that effort continues with working bees and a steady leakage of cash from Mike's kids' university fund). Detailed discussions on how best to cheat and bribe our way to victory and what to take (Matilda needs a little amber ballast to help her sit on the road) are yet to come.Then there's the Bash itself. Most of us need a few more training hours behind the wheel of Matilda (there aren't many simulators for a 1951 truck). I just thank God there are highly qualified and highly patient mechanics accompanying the Bash. (“It's amazing how much better a six-cylinder car goes when it's not running on three-and-a-half cylinders,” was one of Mike's contributions. And he's the expert of the crew.)Stay tuned to Carsguide for regular updates on our preparation, then for daily missives during the Bash itself. If you want to know more about the Bash go to www.varietysa.org.au. mathiesonc@theaustralian.com.au