How did this happen, where the best cars Australia ever made are now just old man cars? My dad liked to collect Models of Yesteryear Matchbox cars because they reminded him of the cars from his youth. They were old man's cars, not the chrome-bumpered classics of the 70s and 80s.

In 1979 Peter Brock bashed a VB Commodore along the roughest tracks to win the 20,000 kilometre, 14-day Repco Round-Australia Reliability Trial. Old man car? It was brand new.

I was sitting in the back of the family Valiant as a young boy when dad announced that Peter Brock was about to overtake. I can still clearly see the red and white VB Commodore rally car in my mind, sitting low at the back, big headlights set in the black bull bar, coming up the freeway behind us.

The problem with my recollection - which is still very clear, and to me takes place on the Melbourne Road between Lara and Little River - is that according to maps, the trail didn't go along that stretch of road. Whatever the case, we had family in Moonee Ponds and the rally was heading near the Melbourne Showgrounds.

Peter Brock's Commodore rally car when it was displayed at Birdwood.

This is where I pause my story and, as a proud owner of three Valiants over the years, ask when does Peter Brock overtake a Valiant? When the Valiant driver lets him.

Before family life on a single income got too expensive, we did a 'sort of' round-Australia trial in a Nissan Skyline. When the used silver R30 Skyline started its life with us in 1994 as our first 'nice' family car, we didn't intentionally plan to drive it to every capital city in the country. It just happened along the way.

Our 'new' used Skyline on the car lot at Reynolds Holden, Portland.

Living roughly half way between Melbourne and Adelaide, it was easy to cross the first two capitals off the list. In 1996 it ran effortlessly across the Nullarbor to Perth on a hurried journey over, and a much slower one back.

Eyre Highway, WA

On the way home from Brisbane in 1997, we detoured through Sydney. We were excited at the prospect of crossing the Sydney Harbour Bridge. The tunnel was new since our last visit and we found ourselves going under the harbour with no view of the city skyline or the iconic steel structure. It took another hour retracing our route to find the highway over the bridge.

This was followed by one of my favorite long drives, the Hume Highway. Unfortunately, we didn't detour through Canberra and missed the national capital by about 60 kilometres.

We missed the nation's capital by about 60 kilometres.

Then one day in 1998, I thought it would be interesting to visit Darwin in the wet season. By now the car was showing 250,000 kilometres, towing a small caravan, and had a meltdown at Port Pirie that required a new clutch fan.

After a long, hot trawl through the centre of Australia a summer cyclone blew in and we had to wait a couple of nights in Katherine before the last 300 kilometres to the Northern Territory capital.

Flinders Ranges, SA.

For our journey back south east to Brisbane, we had day-after-day over 45 degrees, even getting up to 49. From Tennant Creek to Mount Isa, it appeared the air conditioner had stopped working. A mechanic said air was coming out of the dash vents at three degrees, but by the time it reached our faces it was hot. It was just what air conditioners did out there in the summer.

Central Mount Stuart, NT.

At the end of each day, the water coming out of the van's tap was too hot to touch. We survived by finding parks with a pool and each evening, when the fireball had dropped out of the sky, all was forgiven as the outback evenings, lazing around the pool, were simply delightful.

When we moved to Tassie in 2004, we eagerly set off at the first opportunity for Hobart to cross the remaining capital city off our list. As we rolled down a long hill near Melton Mowbray the car began to shudder, and came to a standstill. The RACT towed us to a nearby garage at Bagdad where we left the car and caught a bus home.

Inspecting the new Tassie plates.

The old car eventually made another trip to Hobart to tick off the last capital city. By now it was a bit like an old dog struggling to get up off a mat, barely able to walk. It was on the wrong side of 440,000 kilometres, and had got to the stage where it would intermittently not start for no apparent reason.

Broken down beside the Midland Highway near Melton Mowbray.

There was only one thing to do. It was not long before we took it to the automotive equivalent of the vet, a wrecking yard, and said goodbye to our faithful companion forever.

The last day at a wrecking yard at Prospect.