A small family car made for the Italian Dolomites couldn’t be more out of place in Texas. It was brilliant.
In the original plan, I was running blocker. Back in February, I intended to fly down to Houston to visit friends, and take a little trip to Austin for Radwood, the car show that celebrates metal from the Eighties and Nineties. One friend—whose excellent collection you can see here—would lend R&T contributor Kevin McCauley his Fiat Panda 4×4 for the 180-mile drive, and I would follow in another one of his cars, a mid-Nineties Mercedes S-Class. The thought was that the slow, tiny Panda would need some assistance in the inevitable battle between it and the many trucks of Texas. Then Radwood got postponed two months, and my friend sold the S-Class.
New plan: I would co-drive the Panda with McCauley. What ensued was one of the most stressful, yet fun, trips I’ve ever taken. McCauley made a video documenting the experience, and I wasn’t planning on writing about it, but the whole thing was so silly, I had to say a few words.
The Panda is an icon of industrial design, penned by Giugario, descendant of the Fiat 500, and the default choice for Italian families in the Eighties and Nineties. The 4×4 version arrived in 1983, tailor-made for those living in the Italian Dolomites and Alps. It’s a genuinely capable little thing, with a switchable four-wheel system developed by Austria’s Steyr-Puch—the concern most famous for making the Mercedes G-Wagen—and decent ground clearance. This one was a 1993 Country Club edition, with an extremely Radwood-ready blue-and-teal livery in and out, 151,000 kilometers on the odometer, and an unknown service history.
Usually, I have a pretty good sense of self-preservation, but I also love a good story, and I figured this would turn into one. Logic did not prevail.
A typical scene.
Chris Perkins
Capable though it is, the Panda 4×4 is not made for modern-day America, especially truck-addicted Texas. Its 1000cc engine made under 50 hp when new, and short gearing meant we were limited to a GPS-verified 72 mph. The owner did a bit of work to sort the car when he bought it last summer, but the brown sludge in the coolant reservoir indicated it needed a little more attention. For the entire drive to Austin, the Panda threatened to overheat, water temp gauge settling at around 120 degrees Celsius, near the red zone. Bizarrely, the temps dropped when sitting in traffic, and climbed with speed.
Somehow it never did, but there were other issues. Performance in cross winds was, uh, sketchy, though alleviated somewhat by popping open the rear windows. The trunk latch broke, and I drew a crowd at Radwood trying to close the thing. And while a high driving position made it slightly less terrifying when trucks passed, you still never escape the fact that you’re in a tiny tin box. Plus, it was hot, with temps in the mid-80s, and the only ventilation coming from the windows—the fan just blew hot air.
But damn was it charming, the engine willing, and the gearbox surprisingly sweet. You get to shift a lot too, because first is a crawler good for about 12 mph. Acceleration is leisurely, but the Panda maintains its speed very well. In corners, it very slowly leans over on its soft suspension and knobby 165-section tires but holds its line once it takes a set. Plus the combination of little traffic, relatively low ambient temps and filling the coolant reservoir on the way back to Houston with distilled water seemed to solve hot running. Then, the car became a joy. And once we got to Houston, it started overheating again, now with an unusually high idle. I was extremely glad to give the car back to its owner. We suspect the fan was only working intermittently. With some love given to the cooling system, the Panda would be far less stressful to drive.
In this job, I’m lucky to get to drive a ton of amazing cars. This is among the most memorable, and if McCauley asked me to road-trip it again, I would. I just wouldn’t recommend anyone else do so.
Keyword: Road-Tripping a Fiat Panda 4x4 In Texas Heat Was Dumb and I'd Do It Again Tomorrow