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In my own effort to replicate the activities of the entire crew of TV's “Top Gear,” in my spare time, I opted to do yet another ridiculous task with what I thought was a slightly ridiculous car.
Turns out, you can indeed drive all the way to northeastern Wyoming in a Fiat 500 on the weekend and survive nearly 12 hours of freeway and lonesome prairie driving. And if you aren't facing those normal 80 mph headwinds, you can also get almost 38 mph in the process.
Admittedly, driving a car that looks like a giant Italian toaster oven and is about the same size as a dishwasher does make you about the most bizarre vehicle on the road in the entire state — but nobody shot at me, tipped my car over at a gas station or really seemed to pay much attention. And having made similar trips in the equally unlikely Mazda Miata and a Mini Cooper, it was a similarly curious outing.
The Fiat is indeed a reasonably practical small automobile that, like the now-ubiquitous Mini, just needs to be driven very defensively. And like the Cooper (and unlike the Miata), it's surprisingly commodious on the inside, with room (as it turned out) to accommodate three 6-foot dudes around town, one gingerly planted in the rear seat. You even get about 10 cubic feet of luggage space in the back, good enough for some weekend bags, and an extra 30 cubic feet if you drop those rear seats.
What was the sensation as I tore along with that marvelous but miniscule 101-horsepower 1.4-liter four cylinder humming like a sewing machine? Not bad, actually. You clearly don't want to drive the car to Omaha and back a lot, but it behaves nicely even at 75 freeway mph, though the buzzing is a little pronounced if you push it more than 3,500 RPM.
Handling is responsive, as it ought to be with a vehicle sporting go-kart dimensions, though you get the impression that it's a little tall, thin and tippy; I've played around on gravel roads and it's not, in reality, but the tall seating position and relatively tall roof make you feel that way.
The ride is generally pretty good, too, though worn or grooved pavement did play havoc with the machine. Around town, it's a snap, and the only complaint I had with the five-speed transmission was the position of the clutch pedal, which led to some slightly awkward left leg movements (you also have to skootch the throne-sized seats up pretty close to the wheel for an effective driving position.
This time around, I got to try the 500 Sport model, which takes the already whimsical Fiat's styling and adds splashy 16-inch chrome wheels, sporty colored brake calipers and a chromed exhaust tip. Inside, I also got $2,000 worth of options including the aforementioned overstuffed brown leather seats (plus leather door inserts and steering wheel), an extra-bright paint job as well as an effectively but sadly ungainly positioned TomTom navigation system, which is planted in a large, removable stand on top of the dash.
The rest of the 500's trademark bits are still intact and still thoroughly European — the car's been under production overseas since 2007 — including the oversized, dash-mounted gear shifter, the body-colored dash panel, the concentric speedometer and tachometer and even the unusual radio controls. How I wish those radio controls featured knobs rather than buttons, though Chrysler's behind-the-steering-wheel audio controls are included, as well. And with Bose speakers packed throughout the cabin, the thing's got the acoustics of a $19,000 Wave Radio.
This model featured a thoroughly easy-to-use automatic climate system; fog lamp controls are somewhat hidden behind the shifter, and there's even a Sport button for … sportier acceleration, I gather.
Is life different driving a vehicle the size of a small backpacking tent? Of course. Your every move must be planned with the notion that even a Camry could back over you and not notice; happily the Fiat is speedy and tenacious enough to evade the rest of the outside world.
I did find the seating awkward after a while (I get the impression those are American-sized seats that have been squeezed into a very foreign car), but 12 hours on the highway didn't kill my back, either.
Turns out, you can indeed drive all the way to northeastern Wyoming in a Fiat 500 on the weekend and survive nearly 12 hours of freeway and lonesome prairie driving. And if you aren't facing those normal 80 mph headwinds, you can also get almost 38 mph in the process.
Admittedly, driving a car that looks like a giant Italian toaster oven and is about the same size as a dishwasher does make you about the most bizarre vehicle on the road in the entire state — but nobody shot at me, tipped my car over at a gas station or really seemed to pay much attention. And having made similar trips in the equally unlikely Mazda Miata and a Mini Cooper, it was a similarly curious outing.
The Fiat is indeed a reasonably practical small automobile that, like the now-ubiquitous Mini, just needs to be driven very defensively. And like the Cooper (and unlike the Miata), it's surprisingly commodious on the inside, with room (as it turned out) to accommodate three 6-foot dudes around town, one gingerly planted in the rear seat. You even get about 10 cubic feet of luggage space in the back, good enough for some weekend bags, and an extra 30 cubic feet if you drop those rear seats.
What was the sensation as I tore along with that marvelous but miniscule 101-horsepower 1.4-liter four cylinder humming like a sewing machine? Not bad, actually. You clearly don't want to drive the car to Omaha and back a lot, but it behaves nicely even at 75 freeway mph, though the buzzing is a little pronounced if you push it more than 3,500 RPM.
Handling is responsive, as it ought to be with a vehicle sporting go-kart dimensions, though you get the impression that it's a little tall, thin and tippy; I've played around on gravel roads and it's not, in reality, but the tall seating position and relatively tall roof make you feel that way.
The ride is generally pretty good, too, though worn or grooved pavement did play havoc with the machine. Around town, it's a snap, and the only complaint I had with the five-speed transmission was the position of the clutch pedal, which led to some slightly awkward left leg movements (you also have to skootch the throne-sized seats up pretty close to the wheel for an effective driving position.
This time around, I got to try the 500 Sport model, which takes the already whimsical Fiat's styling and adds splashy 16-inch chrome wheels, sporty colored brake calipers and a chromed exhaust tip. Inside, I also got $2,000 worth of options including the aforementioned overstuffed brown leather seats (plus leather door inserts and steering wheel), an extra-bright paint job as well as an effectively but sadly ungainly positioned TomTom navigation system, which is planted in a large, removable stand on top of the dash.
The rest of the 500's trademark bits are still intact and still thoroughly European — the car's been under production overseas since 2007 — including the oversized, dash-mounted gear shifter, the body-colored dash panel, the concentric speedometer and tachometer and even the unusual radio controls. How I wish those radio controls featured knobs rather than buttons, though Chrysler's behind-the-steering-wheel audio controls are included, as well. And with Bose speakers packed throughout the cabin, the thing's got the acoustics of a $19,000 Wave Radio.
This model featured a thoroughly easy-to-use automatic climate system; fog lamp controls are somewhat hidden behind the shifter, and there's even a Sport button for … sportier acceleration, I gather.
Is life different driving a vehicle the size of a small backpacking tent? Of course. Your every move must be planned with the notion that even a Camry could back over you and not notice; happily the Fiat is speedy and tenacious enough to evade the rest of the outside world.
I did find the seating awkward after a while (I get the impression those are American-sized seats that have been squeezed into a very foreign car), but 12 hours on the highway didn't kill my back, either.
