I (Usually) Hate Car Shopping

I was driving my car maybe 2,000 miles every 18 months, so it was a complete waste of insurance money and the space in my driveway.  When I needed to go somewhere with the family or quickly run over to the grocery store we used my wife's Crossover Hybrid.  Additionally the co-author on the WIP McVurdy books was having issues with his cars so he had borrowed mine.  For the better part of six months.

I also have no car payments right now and I LOVE it.

I basically woke up one day and said "Dude, I don't want to insure it anymore, give me cash, and I'll give you the title."  So I sold him the car and I'm currently car-free which is working out remarkably well.   I bike to work everyday (~2 miles) and the way our schedule works out we don't really need a second car.  Usually.

Sometimes we do need a second car.  For example, a few weeks ago my daughter had to go to her Karate lessons and 30 minutes after they started we had to be at my son's school for a Kindergarten open house.  Both of these events got out at the same time.  It's unusual, and we pulled it off... sort of... I basically spent two hours in the car, and missed most of the open house, but one parent was able to attend and our daughter got picked up from karate, so success!

So if I'm going to get a second car it has to be more useful than the one I just sold (economy sedan).  We really enjoy camping in our family and the crossover is great for around town stuff, but when we load up for a weekend of camping it gets crowded.  Tents, sleeping bags, two kids, two adults, two dogs, food, etc... I have a cargo box strapped to the roof rack and a cargo rack hanging out of the tow hitch in the back.  The dogs sit on the floor beneath the kids and a cooler is usually shoved between them.  I've mastered this game of Tetris but am afraid we have no room to expand.

All set, ready to go.  Only just enough space for the driver

Last year we went on a wonderful camping trip to Eastern Oregon, picked a spot with almost no light pollution and I wanted to bring my 8" Dobsonian Reflector telescope with us (they're huge).  There was no way I was fitting the telescope in the mess and even with all my planning we came up short on water (there just wasn't enough space!)

It's a large pile of highly sophisticated equipment.  It's PRECIOUS!

The primary reason my sedan never got driven was because it just wasn't useful.  We could barely fit the whole family in it, to say nothing of the dog(s).  We didn't use it for any trips because, frankly, we need space to haul food, drinks, clothes, even going to the beach required more space than was available.

I guess we could try this?  Source: Actually seen on the wild streets of Hillsboro, OR

So I've concluded I need a pickup.  It's perfect!  We can use it on our long haul trips, the extended or crew cabs are big enough to fit the family + furries and our junk can all get loaded into the bed.  If we wanted to get really fancy I could pull a small trailer with some ATVs or... other junk.  I can also use it for large home improvement projects.  Prior to home ownership the entire contents of my toolbox could be carried by one person in one trip.  Home ownership really brings out the handy-man in all of us.

Tying it to the rack improves the situation. A little.  You should have seen it with the 16' support beam for the swing-set on top.

So I started a little savings account in the fall, we're squirreling away a few bucks every month, I hope to buy my next car in cash.  Mostly because I hate car payments but also because my preventative steps after the Anthem and DOE breaches have made my credit difficult for even me to use (although I'm sure there are people I've never met who have memorized by SSN)

After we got our tax refund we figured maybe we should start looking.  I anticipate I'll end up spending more than I currently have but if we find a great deal then, hey, we save money!  So this weekend we drove up to Olympia, WA to look at a few trucks currently within our price range.  They both looked like decent trucks in the pictures, the CarFAX reports indicated they had both been in accidents with other vehicles (not involving airbags) so I was a bit wary but, what the heck!

The first truck we got into was a 2002 Ford F250 (Diesel). It smelled like someone had been chain smoking cigars in it for the last 15 years, and the burns in the carpet and upholstery indicated the smoker was right handed.  My wife and I have some experience getting rid of smoke stink, but we both had the distinct feeling even after a thorough shampooing and odor removal treatment this truck was going to need a lot of time airing out.

I stick the key in the ignition, wait for the "Wait-to-start" light to go out and turn.  It makes a lot of noise but definitely isn't starting.  "It's been sitting here on the lot a long time, try it again." the car salesman offers over my shoulder.  I turn the key again, it spins a while, I give it a solid 5 seconds and nothing happens.  "Did you wait for the glow-plugs to warm?" the salesman asks.

"I wasn't born yesterday" I mutter under my breath.  I let him walk me through "complicated process of starting a diesel".  After the light goes out I turn the starter, hold it for 15 seconds just because, why the hell not.  The engine catches!  It dies.  "One more time." the salesman grumbles, clearly embarrassed.

I make a few snide remarks about how many years it must have been sitting here, try one more time and the engine finally starts.  We sit in the parking spot idling for a few minutes as the salesman fills us in about their "5 day/300 mile return policy".  He innocently notes that "if it still isn't starting on the first try in a few days, bring it back and we'll give you your money back.  No pressure."

"We live 150 miles away," my wife remarks.  "So, we take it home, start it up tomorrow, bring it back, and it'll be out of warranty."

"Oh, yeah.  That sucks."

We pulled out of the parking lot and went on a brief test drive.  Out onto the highway down a few exits and back.  It drove fine.  Very loud, but diesels can be, it didn't pull, hesitate or stutter.  Once the engine warmed up ash and smoke residue started blowing out of the heater at us.  I wasn't particularly impressed, but willing to consider a purchase after a thorough inspection by a mechanic I trust.

We get back to the dealership and he points us at the truck parked next to where we started.  He knows he's not going to sell me the Ford.  Instead he recommends their 2001 GMC Sierra 2500 (Turbo Diesel!)  I try not to seem too excited, but this is exactly the truck I've been eyeing.  This truck is in my AutoTrader notifications and is the reason I drove to this dealership.  Just shy of 200K miles (which for a diesel is barely broken in) and their asking price was just shy of $12k, I had to check it out.

I get in and am immediately impressed by the lack of cigar smell.  The leather seats don't hurt either.  The kids note that the back seat didn't provide quite as much leg room, but they look comfortable enough.  I stick the key in the ignition, make a mocking remark about starting up on the first try start it up.  It roars to life.

There's a certain visceral elation some of us feel in the presence of a powerful machine.  I don't think it needs to be loud, but I don't think it hurts.  Nor do you need to feel it in your chest, although again, it doesn't hurt.  It's hard to describe exactly but when that rumbling diesel roared to life with the hissing, jet engine like sound of the turbo desperately dumping oxygen into the engine I surprised myself by yelling out. I don't think I yelled anything in particular, maybe something like "Oh yeah!".  I distinctly remember my adrenal glands opened up and I felt good.

"It started the first time!" I tried to redirect the source of my surprise for the salesman's benefit.  He chuckles, I don't think he bought it.  We sit in the parking spot a few minutes, letting the oil pressure come up and I adjust the heater, rear-view, and seats.  Then I flop around like a fish out of water trying to find the side-view mirror adjustment.  Apparently I have to rolldown the windows and do it manually.  Oh well.

We pull out of the parking spot and run the same route in what felt like half the time.  I didn't actually time it, but I swear, we went a lot faster.  When you're driving a truck like this you own the road.  I signal my intention to merge left, the left lane clears nearly instantly as tiny sedans submit to my obvious superiority.  I floor it on the on ramp to I5, the engine roars in response.  You have to understand something now.  I'm used to driving a hybrid crossover.  They get 0-60 in something like 90 seconds.  It's economically and ecologically responsible and for 99% of my driving it does the job but this thing.  This thing did exactly what I asked, when I asked.  I know deep in my chest, I may or may not be buying this truck (this remains to be seen) but I will buy a Sierra 2500 Turbo Diesel...

"I like this truck!" My four year old announces enthusiastically from the back.

We're out on the highway, making great time. I tell myself it must be because rush-hour traffic is dying down.  I note out loud that the engine, while more enjoyable to listen to, is definitely quieter than the Ford.  I get out on a straight away and take my hands off the steering wheel, just for a second, it pulls to the right.  Hmm, maybe it needs an alignment.  I mention as much out loud, the heater turns on.  "Hey, the heater is on and it doesn't smell like cigars!" my wife observes from the passenger's seat.  She's right, it does have that going for it.

We finish the test drive, I pull it back into the parking spot.  I look at the salesman, "Jordan, the CarFAX says this car was in an accident.  You wouldn't happen to have the accident report would you?"  He shrugs and says he'll check, if we'll just follow him.  I mention I'll stay outside and take a closer look at the exteriors of both trucks.

First thing I notice, I would have never seen on the Ford close up, between the front and rear wheels on the underside there is a distinct pattern of damage.  All little dings and bumps but it adds up to giving the entire truck the ever so slightest arch.  It's possible the damage was superficial, but it gave me the distinct impression someone had parked the truck on a fallen tree and then used it as a seesaw for a few hours.  There's a mess I'd rather not get involved with.  Next.

Not pictured: The truck

The GMC was a little more complicated.  I immediately noted some twisting on the top edges of the bed, at this point I have no idea what could have caused this.  The camper hookups beneath the truck also don't appear to be running as perpendicular to the transmission as I might expect.  Almost like something wrenched one of them out of place.  Finally the tailgate doesn't quite fit.  It's bowed distinctly outward, far enough I can stick my open hand in between the tailgate and the truck bed and I can still see the ground beneath.  I walk around the car checking places where the body meets, looking for obvious signs of twisting in the frame, and nothing sticks out.  But I can't help but think of that distinct pull.  By itself it is nothing but all of these things together?  I can't banish the image of two trucks playing tug-of-war in a muddy field until the back end of this truck pinches together, ever-so-slightly.  I called my father-in-law and talk it through with him.  He had no advice, but my gut said walk away.  So I did.

This is something people (idiots) actually do

As we left the dealership I shook the salesman's hand and thanked him for his time. He handed me his card and asked me to call in a week to see if they have new inventory. They really did seem like low pressure sales people. As we walked back to the hybrid my son stopped in his tracks and stared crying.  "What's wrong?" We all asked.

"I wanted the truck!" He choked out between sobs. "Why are we just leaving it?"

We finished the evening by meeting up with my sister (who lives in the area) for dinner and beers at McMenamin's.  This is the first time I've ever had a burger at McMenamin's where when I ordered medium-rare they brought me a medium-rare burger.  Usually my wife orders medium and gets medium-rare, while I order medium-rare and get well-done.  Beer was good, conversation was fun, kids were remarkably well behaved, but it was close to bed time on a school night so we cut it short.

The kids fell asleep on the ride home, my wife looks at me halfway there and says "We came four hours to test drive two trucks and we're going home completely empty handed.  Why do I feel like today was a good day?"

I'm not really sure, but I had to agree with her.