For The Love of an Old Car
She’s nothing much to look at but I sure do love her.
Americans have a long-lasting love affair with the automobile. Even it the early stages, people wanted one even if they couldn’t afford it. Soon, technology brought down the price and by the 1950s, teenagers were able to buy a car and then set about making that car a reflection of their personality.
If that’s the case with all of us, then my car certainly tells a little something about me. Currently, I am driving a 2000 Nissan Sentra GXE with over 263,000 miles on it. It’s a stick shift that’s maroon and rust-colored.
I’ve never been one to feel the need to express my personality or self-esteem through the car I drive. I’m one of those people that, when I find something I like that works, I keep it until it can no longer be repaired. I once had a vacuum cleaner for over 23 years. When it became harder and harder to find the bags for it, I would just pull the gunch out of the one I had and reuse it. Bag-less vacuums were on the scene, you know, and my canister vacuum was becoming passé. I also repaired a hairdryer for a while, which was kind of fun.
My cars have been the same way. I once owned a Geo Metro convertible. That was the first time I bought a car over the phone, sight unseen. When I spent the afternoon on the bus, making numerous transfers to get the dealership, the guy told me that I might not want it anymore because it was a stick shift. I gave him “The Stare.”
Why assume that I cannot drive a manual transmission because I am a woman?
Needless to say, that was a fun little car for a bit but it was rather disposable. With only three cylinders, it didn’t have a lot of oomph but it got me where I needed to go and the convertible top was fun until it kept getting slashed.
I fixed that, too. It was nothing that some industrial string, huge needle, and silicone couldn’t fix.
Getting where I needed to go while being protected from the elements with at least a few creature comforts has usually been my baseline for a car. And inexpensive, which is becoming harder and harder to come by.
My mother bought me my first car. Don’t go gettin’ all “Oooh, privileged, are we?” on me. It was a 1977 Mercury Marquis with a big bore V8 engine and 19 feet of awesome, white with a red interior. My mom picked it up for $500 and said, “I want a lot of metal around my baby girl.” Of course, I rolled my eyes and was immediately embarrassed by the whole thing but soon, I realized I could get about 6 other people in there and I was the go-to driver for a night out with friends.
We named it B.O.B.B. for “big ol’ battle barge” and at some point, someone threw a life ring in the back window. We played games on the hood. I could fall asleep, stretched out in the back seat. (I was 5'2" at 16.) Driving that thing was awesome. I loved it until it threw a rod on the outer belt.
I was genuinely sad about it. I was upset. I came to love that car: an inanimate object that had no feelings, no heart, didn’t know me as anything. It sat quiet and motionless in front of our house because it didn’t fit in the driveway. Unblinking. Waiting.
Once it roared to life with the turn of my key, it became something else. We became partners in crime. We connected. We were one. Sounds stupid, right?
No. It doesn’t.
Because at some point, with some vehicle (if you’ve had one), you’ve felt it, too.
After that, I had an Isuzu I-Mark whose only redeeming quality was that it handled well on turns because it had a Lotus suspension. Taking on-ramps was a dream, otherwise, it was a piece of shit.
This was the first time I had a car payment, $87 a month and I thought I was going to die from the expense. I got hit on the freeway and that car was never the same. There is more to that story but not for now.
After that hunk’a’junk, there was a stream of other cars: an ’87 Chevy Cavalier station wagon, a ’68 Mercury Cougar, the Geo Metro, then a Hyundai Santa Fe, my first brand new car ever (and last). After the Hyundai came my baby, the ’00 Nissan Sentra GXE, with a 2.0 l engine. Still a 4-banger but she’d scoot if you knew how to do it.
My mom drove it for me at one point after I had surgery and said, “Why am I going so fast in such a small car?” Because she’s awesome, that’s why.
I bought her for $5,000 from a local dealership from a sales guy who was much too busy to haggle. I said, “5k out the door, taxes, tags, and title included.” “Fine.” And there you have it. Cash. Done.
She had no radio and 63k miles on her. She’d been someone’s experiment, as I would discover because there were some issues. The trunk lid didn’t sit quite square, and this was in the days before Carfax, so water would get in there and slowly start rusting it. I think the prior owner tried to jack up the stereo system; door panels didn’t sit well or would pop off and they still do. The speakers in the back deck were weird.
I didn’t care. I liked driving this car. I don’t know how to explain it other than to say that it was one of the best decisions of my adult life, thus far. I made a good choice and I felt it when I took it for a test drive. There was a little *ping* inside me. “Buy it” that ping said so I did.
We’ve been together for 13 years. I don’t think she’s going to make the 14th year.
Since I live in Ohio, I have to deal with road salt in the winter and rain in every other season. This takes a toll on cars. I’ve done my best by her, fixing everything she ever needed. Routine maintenance with regular fluid fills and changes, cam position sensors, brakes, a new master cylinder, eventually a new clutch but only after 150k miles. I had been driving on the original clutch and the transmission tech said that whoever owned that car really knew how to drive a stick because the rest of the tranny was pristine. #hellyeah
Exhaust pipes ad nauseum because — Ohio. A new muffler occasionally but mostly pipes. The exhaust is what may have done her in, along with extensive rusting.
Because of the rust, the motor mounts have given up a bit. The engine is in no danger of falling out but the motor mounts keep engine vibration down and reduce torque everywhere, including the transmission, which has to be connected to the engine securely. Since the mounts are damaged, the engine moves a bit more than it should, putting stress on the connection between the exhaust manifold and the first pipe in the exhaust system. Add in rust and we have a chronic problem.
That spot is under stress and as we all learned in school, metal fatigue is a thing, plus it is subjected to the elements which cause rust. Rust and metal fatigue causes me frustration. I recently had this little spot fixed at a local shop that specializes in such things.
It wasn’t long until I noticed the sound again. If you’ve driven the same car long enough, you get to know the right vibrations, sounds, creaks, and clinks and immediately know/feel when something ain’t quite right. I heard a very specific throaty noise, not loud, but it was there. I told my husband that I had had it repaired but I was worried. He heard nothing until I hit that small bump on the highway and that pipe sheared clean off, right behind the exhaust manifold.
I immediately went from “Do you hear that?” to “Fuck me.”
That happened on Halloween night. I rolled into my neighborhood as the newest member of The Hoopty Club. We don’t have another car for me to drive. This one is pretty great, engine-wise, despite the valve seats needing replaced. She makes a cute rattly noise at low RPMs and drinks oil like it is cheap beer.
Aside from not having another car to drive, I don’t have the money or credit to get one on a payment plan. My daughter needs driven to preschool each day as she is too young to ride the bus. As a predominately stay-at-home-mom, I have errands to run, groceries to get, children to shuttle, and activities to attend. My life is busy and I’ve been wondering if I can do it all on my bicycle. Probably but not with winter coming.
I’m at the point where I need to consider my ROI. My trustworthy mechanic says that fixing the motor mounts and exhaust system will alleviate this problem and cost me about $800 to start. The other primary issue is rust. Even if I get those first two issues fixed, I’m still dealing with terminal rust. How do I combat that? Is it worth it to fight that? Should I try?
My sweet girl is dying. Her body will fail before her heart dies. She and I have been cross-country six times. I’ve driven her everywhere. I moved to California with her and moved back with her. I have driven to every coast in her. We’ve had good times. She is there for me when life is tough and I have to flee. She takes me and doesn’t ask any questions. She’s brought home both of my children from the hospital.
She’s been resurrected before. A few years ago, one of the front strut towers was rusting badly. I borrowed a car from my brother for a bit while she was in for repair. She came back better than ever. Rock-solid. That mechanic said that the problem was going to get worse and here we are.
Do I love her enough to send her off to be patched and welded and to spend that money? Is she worth that?
Why do I have such affection for a machine?
Even though the car is extremely loud, but due to intact hangers, the rest of the exhaust isn’t going to drop off, plus the engine is 90% fine, I still had to pick up my kids from school. I coast a lot to keep the RPMs, and thus the sound, down. As we pulled away from the school, my son said, “Why does it seem like I’m the only kid being picked up in a not-so-new car?” I knew it was rhetorical but ouch.
I didn’t respond and a few minutes later he apologized. I have this car because I love it and because I have no car payment, which allows me to be home with him and his sister. I could have replaced her when the first big issues started to rear their heads but I decided then that the ROI was positive. Cheaper to keep’er, as they say.
It is true that a newer car would better serve our family. We have sporting activities to go to, a dog, two kids, gear and stuff and shit. The price of used cars is stupid. They are so expensive. I realize that car engines are getting better and it is harder to find a used car under 100k miles. Just doing some cursory shopping, I’m finding Honda and Toyotas that are 10 years old, 150,000 miles and still asking for over $10k. I’m dumbfounded.
I hadn’t shopped for a car in so long, I didn’t realize how high the prices have become. I bought my girl for $5k and 63,000 miles and she was six years old. Then again, she’s a stick and those are not in high demand.
Even if I do decide to send her off for massive reconstruction, a restoration if you will, I need something else to drive. At this point, I don’t know what I am going to do. She is the longest relationship I’ve ever been in.
If our cars really are a reflection of our personalities, what is my car saying about me? Dependable. Old. Comfortable. Reliable. No frills. No fuss. Low maintenance. A little rough around the edges due to age.
But best of all, still worthy.
