An Australian Adventure, Part IV

   PROLOGUE: In late February of 1988 NASCAR sanctioned what amounted to an exhibition rce in Australia at a sparkling new speedway near Melbourne, The Thunderdome.  It held the potential of being a great adventure for those lucky enough to be going, including me.  The trip proved more than equal to the promise.  Over the next few day, "Scuffs" will recount some of the stories from two decades ago, including a dramatic victory by Neil Bonnett.

    Our days Down Under were drawing rapidly to a close, yet there remained  a lot that my pals and I wanted to do.
   Highest on our list was getting out into the countryside in the hope of seeing wild kangaroos and koalas.
   With only a couple days remaining before the running of the Goodyear 500K at The Thunderdome, buddies Steve Waid, Bob Kelly and I decided it was now or never.
   We made the plans.  We'd awaken early and go to the track at Calder Park .  Steve and I would quickly file stories for our publications, Winston Cup Scene and The Charlotte Observer, respectively.  Bob would fulfill his duties as a public relations representative for Winston, and we'd be off.
   Then, we decided to modify the schedule.
   At a dinner party the night before we'd met   a charming Aussie chap named Nick le Souef.  He could have been the inspiration for the popular movie character Crocodile Dundee.
   Nick owned a fancy opal shop in downtown Melbourne called Lightning Ridge and he enthusiastically invited us to drop by and see his place, the beautiful gems and the other things of interest that he kept there--critters.   Some very dangerous critters.

   

  Nick greeted us warmly at the door and ushered us in.
   My jaw dropped.

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   One wall of the large shop was made up of cages fronted by thick glass.  In  the cages were mainly snakes and  spiders.
   In a bin filled with water was a relatively small octopus.  It was snow white except for a blue ring around its body.
   If octopi can be beautiful, this one qualified.
   I asked about it.
   "Aye, the blue ring octopus,"  le Seouf said with a smile.  "It's found along our coast.  Its bite contains enough venom to kill 10 men."
   We moved on along the wall,  Nick  serving as tour guide and telling his intriguing life story.
   "I once was an opal miner," he said.  "Australia produces 90 percent of the opals in the world.
   "And you don't have to know anything much about geology to find them and make a fabulous fortune.  You just have to be lucky.  Ninety-nine percent of it is luck.  It only costs 50 cents to stake a claim out in the wilds, which includes practically the whole interior of the country.  If you stake it in the right place, you're a millionaire."
   Nick figured the odds and decided to make his fortune marketing opals, not mining them.  He opened Lightning Ridge.
   Meanwhile, le Seouf maintained his boyhood interest in the deadly creatures found in his country.
   "Australia is the most poisonous nation in the world," he continued.  "It's a toxicologist's dream.  For example, no other country has a spider as dangerous as our tunnelweb, which is very aggressive."
   As if on cue, a large, dark-colored spider came crawling from a web that looked something like a horn-of-plenty and stared us down through the glass.
   Next we came to a collection of snakes.  One was curled up sleeping.  It bore resemblance to the common blacksnake back home in the United States.  I pecked on the glass.  The snake uncoiled in a flash, a large hood sprang out about its head and it struck the glass that thankfully separated us.
   I recoiled in horror, much to the delight of le Seouf.
   "That's our Aussie tiger snake," he said.  "It's one of the very, very most poisonous in the world.  Its bite has enough venom to kill 60 adults.  Although not as well known, it is far more poisonous than the cobra of India and the rattler of Amrica.
   "Tigers are responsible for more deaths annually in Australia than any other snake.  And they're quite numerous.  This one was caught within eight miles of downtown Melbourne."
   Beautiful.
   While Bob Kelly shopped for an opal, Steve and I checked out some clippings on a bulletin board about our host le Souef.
   Included were stories from Melbourne newspapers about him once spending 21 days in a booth with two tiger snakes and 500 redback spiders, which is similar to the black widow of North America.  Another time he spent 24 hours in a pool with man-eating sharks, sting rays and several of those fearsome blue ring octopuses.
   Finally, it was time to go.  We thanked Nick for the experience he'd provided us and set off for the race track.
   At the speedway, I decided to write a story on a character relatively as colorful and interesting as Nick le Seouf--Hershel McGriff.
   In visiting Australia for the Goodyear 500K, McGriff embellished an already incredible motorsports record:
   --In May of 1950 he won the first Mexican road race, a gruelling cross-country, border-to-border test of 2,178 miles.
  --He started the first Southern 500 in September of 1950, NASCAR’s original big track event at Darlington (S.C.) Raceway.
  --He had been a member of the first team to enter and drive a U.S. stock car in the famous 24 Hours of Le Mans in France, co-piloting a Dodge with NASCAR’s Dick Brooks in 1976.
  McGriff, 61 at the time of the Aussie inaugural, looked far younger. People teased the legendary NASCAR Winston West competitor and champion about finding The Fountain Of Youth somewhere in the woods near his home at Bridal Veil, Ore.
  “I’ve been racing 40 years and I’m just as happy to be a part of this Australian event as I was to be at Ciudad Juarez and Darlington in 1950,” said McGriff. “It means a lot to me to be able to participate in things that turn out to be historic. Although the facilities here are much improved over what Darlington had way back then, the excitement and aura about Sunday’s race remind me a lot of South Carolina in 1950.
  “I went to Darlington because I met Bill France Sr. (NASCAR’s founder) and Curtis Turner, who were co-driving in the Mexican race.  During the overnight stops, Bill worked on me to come to Darlington.  I won in Mexico, so I decided to take the money and go to South Carolina that Labor Day.
  “I drove my race car home from Mexico, and I drove it to South Carolina to race there.
  “I’ll never forget the sight of that first field at Darlington. They started 75 cars three abreast. The field stretched from the start-finish line halfway back around the track.”
  McGriff finished ninth in the first Southern 500, and he was destined to do well in the Australian Goodyear 500K.
  With our work done, Bob, Steve and I asked some Aussie friends we’d made where we should head to hopefully see some ‘roos.
  They named a village in mountainous country about 50 miles away.
  Within an hour or so we found ourselves on a winding dirt road bordered by large fields and hills that were increasingly forested.
  The road got narrower and rougher, and no ‘roos had been spotted. It was getting late in the afternoon.
  “We better head back or we’re going to get lost,” said Steve.
  At that moment I saw two men standing by the road up ahead. “Stop and let me talk to them,” I said.
  “I don’t know, boy,” replied Steve. “They look pretty rough.”
  Both men had beards halfway down their chests. They looked like characters out of the movie     “Deliverance” and they were eyeing us menacingly.
  By now all the Fosters I’d consumed had kicked in and I was overflowing with bravado.

“I can talk to anybody,” I asserted. “Stop the car!”

  As I stepped out I extended my hand and with my best Southern drawl said, “Howdy, boys! Could you tell a feller where he might see a ‘roo?”
  I doubt the men would have been much more surprised if a Flying Saucer had landed and little green men emerged.
  “Mate, where the ‘ell are you from!?” asked one.
“North Carolina.”
  The two guys almost knocked each other down getting to me to shake my hand.
  “Damn, mate!” they exclaimed. “You’re down here for the race!”
  Seemed everyone in the country knew about the event and was excited about it.
  After talking racing a bit, the chaps informed us that we weren’t going to see any ‘roos until after dark.
  “But we’re surprised you haven’t run over some koalas,” they said. “These woods are full of ‘em. Just look to the tops of the trees as you head back.”
  Sure enough.
  We hadn’t driven a quarter-mile until we saw koalas clinging to limbs.
  We stopped, hustled out and, cameras at the ready, walked to the trees to get better photos.
  Suddenly, I remembered the tiger snake at Lightning Ridge and decided to return to the car. First, though, I had to have some fun at my pal Steve’s expense.
  I picked up a fallen limb, tapped him on the ankle from behind and shouted, “Watch out for that snake!”
  Walter Payton never pranced into an end zone with steps any higher.

  NEXT: THE PIANO BAR AND RACE DAY.