On our way home from spring break, the Sub started making a terrible noise. About 25 miles south of Moab, it died.
We were right by a construction zone, and the flagger was very helpful. He went down the line of cars stuck in traffic and was able to solicit a ride for us to Hole in the Rock, the closest available phone.
My new car is all right, but I don't love it. I took it down to Moab this weekend and put it to the test on the Gemini Bridges Road, and it failed. Even on some easier dirt roads, it just didn't have good traction and handled poorly in just a little bit of soft sand. There was this whole fiasco in which Brian's friends were all camping on top of this mesa, and I was nervous about my car making it up one spot in this road. It was so steep, and if my car lost traction and I slid, I would go off the cliff and die. I had a minor freak out and realized I needed to just head back down the cliff, and Brian's friends later gave me a hard time about it. They had other examples of cars like mine that had made it up there, but like Brian said, just because they made it didn't mean it was a good idea, or safe, or good for the car. He insisted on camping with me that night so I wasn't alone, even though it meant he was sleeping on a cot in the middle of what was basically an RV parking lot. The people next to us ran their generator until after 11:00 p.m., and then a train came through camp. A TRAIN. It was so absurdly awful. Poor Brian.
Anyway, in summary, the whole experience was super stressful, but I was really thankful that I was able to get a new car so quickly and felt empowered that I went through the whole car-buying process without my dad's help. My new car handles nicely in town, but it has failed me out in the desert, which is the whole point of me driving that kind of car. Oh, and the ceiling in it is lower, so when I'm in bed, I can't sit up straight. I'm not sure how it's going to do this summer.
We were right by a construction zone, and the flagger was very helpful. He went down the line of cars stuck in traffic and was able to solicit a ride for us to Hole in the Rock, the closest available phone.
We called AAA for a tow and ended up sitting in the waiting area at the mechanic's with his dog sitting in the chair between us.
He came in just a few minutes later and informed me that it was the worst-case scenario- the engine. At least $3500 to fix. It was decided that I would just leave the car in Moab. I couldn't even sell it for scrap metal; there was no salvage yard in Moab. The mechanic usually charges $200 for car disposal (I HATE using that word in reference to my beloved car), but he was willing to waive the fee for me. He gave us a ride to our $200 hotel room, because it also happened to be Jeep week in Moab so everything was more expensive. That mechanic was so kind. Everyone thought he was screwing me over, but he absolutely wasn't. When I mailed him the title, I included some homemade lemon butter cookies to thank him.
The next day, Kris drove all the way down from SLC to pick us up. I was so, so happy to see him. We cleaned out my car, and I tried not to cry as we drove away. I did NOT want a new car. That car was perfect and had everything I wanted.
After 4 hours in the car, we dropped off Debra and went straight to the Subaru dealership, where things got super stressful. I thought I just wanted a new Forester, but there were two problems: the new models didn't let you shift between lower gears (it just lets you put it in a lower gear and the fancy computerized engine is supposed to compensate), and there was a bump when you put the backseat down, so I was afraid I wouldn't be able to sleep back there.
The salesman was so patient and presented many different options, trying really hard to get me what I wanted. It finally looked like I might end up with a used Outback. I told Kris that Outbacks look like station wagons and are mom cars, and he said, "Well... isn't that where we're headed?" (Or something like that.) So I was all ready to sit down and go through the financing process, and I texted Dad's best friend Dave (who knows everything about cars) just to make sure I was making a good choice, and he FREAKED OUT about how the Outbacks from that year had really bad oil leaks. The salesman took me to one of their mechanics, who looked me in the eye and straight up lied about those cars having issues. (I could just tell he wasn't being honest.) I didn't really want an Outback anyway, so I was back to square one and we walked away.
This was the most stressed out I'd been in a long time. I had no car, Nancy was flying in the next day, and now I had to decide if I wanted a whole different kind of car without having the time to properly research. Kris took me home and insisted I have a beer, and I felt like a new person after that Old Style. I called my dad, and he pointed out that the main problem with the new Forester was the bump in the backseat. Was that really worth reconsidering the whole thing? Or could I find a way to deal with it?
My decision was made, and I was determined to get this shit handled that night. At 7:30, I asked Kris to take me to another dealership, (I was too embarrassed to go back to the first one), and within an hour and a half I had a 2017 Forester. I got a nicer model than my previous one; it has a moon roof so I can see more stars while I'm camping, and heated seats which I use all the damn time. I knew exactly what I wanted, and the salesman seemed concerned that I didn't even want to test drive it. (He and Kris insisted that I did.)
He came in just a few minutes later and informed me that it was the worst-case scenario- the engine. At least $3500 to fix. It was decided that I would just leave the car in Moab. I couldn't even sell it for scrap metal; there was no salvage yard in Moab. The mechanic usually charges $200 for car disposal (I HATE using that word in reference to my beloved car), but he was willing to waive the fee for me. He gave us a ride to our $200 hotel room, because it also happened to be Jeep week in Moab so everything was more expensive. That mechanic was so kind. Everyone thought he was screwing me over, but he absolutely wasn't. When I mailed him the title, I included some homemade lemon butter cookies to thank him.
The next day, Kris drove all the way down from SLC to pick us up. I was so, so happy to see him. We cleaned out my car, and I tried not to cry as we drove away. I did NOT want a new car. That car was perfect and had everything I wanted.
After 4 hours in the car, we dropped off Debra and went straight to the Subaru dealership, where things got super stressful. I thought I just wanted a new Forester, but there were two problems: the new models didn't let you shift between lower gears (it just lets you put it in a lower gear and the fancy computerized engine is supposed to compensate), and there was a bump when you put the backseat down, so I was afraid I wouldn't be able to sleep back there.
The salesman was so patient and presented many different options, trying really hard to get me what I wanted. It finally looked like I might end up with a used Outback. I told Kris that Outbacks look like station wagons and are mom cars, and he said, "Well... isn't that where we're headed?" (Or something like that.) So I was all ready to sit down and go through the financing process, and I texted Dad's best friend Dave (who knows everything about cars) just to make sure I was making a good choice, and he FREAKED OUT about how the Outbacks from that year had really bad oil leaks. The salesman took me to one of their mechanics, who looked me in the eye and straight up lied about those cars having issues. (I could just tell he wasn't being honest.) I didn't really want an Outback anyway, so I was back to square one and we walked away.
This was the most stressed out I'd been in a long time. I had no car, Nancy was flying in the next day, and now I had to decide if I wanted a whole different kind of car without having the time to properly research. Kris took me home and insisted I have a beer, and I felt like a new person after that Old Style. I called my dad, and he pointed out that the main problem with the new Forester was the bump in the backseat. Was that really worth reconsidering the whole thing? Or could I find a way to deal with it?
My decision was made, and I was determined to get this shit handled that night. At 7:30, I asked Kris to take me to another dealership, (I was too embarrassed to go back to the first one), and within an hour and a half I had a 2017 Forester. I got a nicer model than my previous one; it has a moon roof so I can see more stars while I'm camping, and heated seats which I use all the damn time. I knew exactly what I wanted, and the salesman seemed concerned that I didn't even want to test drive it. (He and Kris insisted that I did.)
My new car is all right, but I don't love it. I took it down to Moab this weekend and put it to the test on the Gemini Bridges Road, and it failed. Even on some easier dirt roads, it just didn't have good traction and handled poorly in just a little bit of soft sand. There was this whole fiasco in which Brian's friends were all camping on top of this mesa, and I was nervous about my car making it up one spot in this road. It was so steep, and if my car lost traction and I slid, I would go off the cliff and die. I had a minor freak out and realized I needed to just head back down the cliff, and Brian's friends later gave me a hard time about it. They had other examples of cars like mine that had made it up there, but like Brian said, just because they made it didn't mean it was a good idea, or safe, or good for the car. He insisted on camping with me that night so I wasn't alone, even though it meant he was sleeping on a cot in the middle of what was basically an RV parking lot. The people next to us ran their generator until after 11:00 p.m., and then a train came through camp. A TRAIN. It was so absurdly awful. Poor Brian.
Anyway, in summary, the whole experience was super stressful, but I was really thankful that I was able to get a new car so quickly and felt empowered that I went through the whole car-buying process without my dad's help. My new car handles nicely in town, but it has failed me out in the desert, which is the whole point of me driving that kind of car. Oh, and the ceiling in it is lower, so when I'm in bed, I can't sit up straight. I'm not sure how it's going to do this summer.
Comments