Taco Supreme
Some of you may already know this, but I was forced to buy a new car after graduation so that Jess, her brother Matt, her roommate Laura, and I could drive down to Tampa to visit Jess’ grandparents and enjoy the beach. If you’ve just read my post about visiting Tampa in August, don’t be confused, I wasn’t nearly as opposed to getting sand between my toes then as I am now. It must have something to do with a firm dislike of Earnest Hemingway fiction and the increasing number of grey hairs to be found on my head!
In Jess’s family, all of the cars have names. Some of the names are classics like Rhonda the Honda. Clearly my car needed a name as well, and since the official color of my new Dodge Neon was salsa, we settled on the name Taco. From Taco’s initial trial-by-fire trip to Tampa and back from Springfield, Ohio to today, Taco has been a supreme auto. That’s not to say there haven’t been any issues, but come on, this is a little domestic 4-cylinder with 240,000 miles! All that and nothing serious has ever gone wrong.
In addition to driving from Springfield, Ohio to Tampa, Taco’s made the trip from Pittsburgh to Boston several times, and more trips from Colorado back east that I care to remember. Throw in a health dose of off roading (even by Jeep standards) and you’ll start to get an idea for the abuse this poor little car has suffered on our behalf.
Of course, Taco’s been towed a couple of times—once after Jess assured me that cars park along the side of her building in Boston’s Kenmore Square all the time (thanks Jess!) and again when a certain bookstore manager decided to tow cars parked behind the building without asking if they might belong to employees or customers (thanks Brian!). Taco also leaks oil like the Exxon Valdez, and we had to replace the rear windshield after Jess tried to park underground with my road bike attached to the roof rack. The Fuji, I might add, was unscratched!
And there have been all sorts of standard maintenance. Jess once lost the power steering when the idler pulley seized up and ripped apart. Technically an easy repair (if you have an engine puller), Dodge had zero replacement stock, around 1,000 in production and over 5,000 outstanding orders. Could there possibly be a design flaw? Needless to say, we were fortunate to find a replacement on a junk-yard car, but the first part the junk yard sent was the wrong part! The repair man eventually got it straightened out, and knock-on-wood, the steering wheel works like a champ.
Now, that wasn’t always the case either. A while back, the tilt mechanism loosened up and the entire steering wheel column rattled around in the yoke. The same repairman, mike, was able to snug things up, but it still felt sloppy. It wasn’t until I completely disassembled the dash board to fix the short in the light/turn-signal circuit (read that story here) that the steering wheel was properly tightened.
Along the way, we’ve learned a lot about car maintenance. We’ve replaced the thermostat, drained and flushed the coolant system, replaced the spark plugs and ignition wires, replaced the front brakes and rotors (in fact, it’s time to do the rear wheels now), and changed the oil and filter. Egads, does it ever end? Well, I’m sure that some day it will, and what a sad day that will be. I just wish there was some form of car ESP or a tire-equivalent of tea-leaf reading that could predict the future. On one hand, it’s insane to expect the car to last much longer, but then again. . .
Here’s to Taco and 240,000 miles!
