We've been together a long time. We've covered a lot of ground together. I wasn't sure our relationship would last this long. Family and friends tell me I need to move on. But it's not that easy.
When we met, I'd only been in California a few months. She helped me get through my first long hot summer in the Mojave. We've been together ever since that July day in 1995. I was only 29 then. And, well, she was my first.
She was the first, and only, car I've ever bought new.
Well, actually she's a truck. A 1995 Dodge Dakota.
I traded in a car I loved, a 1988 Honda Prelude, for her. But the Honda didn't adapt too well to life in Southern California. Someone punched the lock and stole some stuff out of it. But that wasn't enough to jilt her. The real reason for the breakup was that she didn't come equipped with air conditioning. That hadn't been an issue when I was in college in Corvallis. It wasn't even much of a problem during summers in Eastern Oregon. It certainly was not a problem on the Oregon Coast. But in the Mojave, where, if memory serves, every day in July that summer was hotter than 110 degrees, it was a different story. No air conditioning was definitely a problem.
So I traded her in. I decided to get a pickup, because I was a long way from home, family and friends and didn't know many people in town yet. My dad always had pickups I could borrow. I had a Toyota pickup part of the time through college. I might need a truck in California.
As it turned out in the nearly 14 years since, I haven't really needed a truck all that often. But I still have her, and she's taken good care of me over the years. There have been a few bangs and scrapes with inanimate objects. And one little fender bender when I couldn't quite manage the clutch and brake fast enough at a stoplight. Not bad for nearly a decade and a half.
When I moved back to Oregon in 2005 I thought maybe that might be our last summer together. But there was really no room in the budget for a car payment, so we've stayed together. The relationship was strained when gas got up in the $4 a gallon territory. When I first bought her I could fill her up for about $15. At one point last year it cost about $75. That kept both of us close to home on weekends.
The truth is, she doesn't get all the attention she deserves because money has been tight. The new tires she got late last year weren't really in the budget either. But she and I were both glad she had them when she we needed to navigate snowy roads in December in and around Portland and Salem. The guy at Les Schwab warned me that the brakes were showing wear too, but I knew I couldn't afford that bill with Christmas coming.
But we may not be able to wait any longer. A couple of warning lights popped up on the dash yesterday. The ABS and brake lights are on, glowing steady, and I can feel the mushiness in the brakes. I am nursing them all I can, but I know there is a trip to the brake shop in my immediate future.
Tires, brakes. That's stuff that need to be replaced from time to time. But that's not the only trouble she's seen lately. Last year after watching my daughter play in the state golf tournament she refused to start. Her battery cracked and the acid damaged the cables and some parts in the engine compartment. She had to be towed to a repair shop. It was the second time she'd been in for repairs since we got to Oregon. She needs other work too. She needs shocks. The windshield has a nasty crack. She leaks oil.
And the odometer reads more than 130,000 miles. Not bad, given her age. But I'm not certain how many miles she really has left.
I never thought she'd carry me this far. Or this long. She's been a loyal and trusted companion. I'll miss her when she's gone. And I'll miss not having car payments. But I won't miss the repair bills. I guess I know where my tax refund is going this year.
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