I pulled over to the side of the road, dust flying up from the rear tires. My dad and I got out of the car and took note of this solemn occasion. I asked him to take a picture of me, with a backdrop of a red rock canyon behind me. Me and my Subaru Forester. The occasion — the odometer just turned over 200,000 miles.
Our friends here in Nederland just bought a new car. How they decided when to get a new car is rather interesting. They made an agreement that they would look for a new car when the old one had “driven to the moon.” Puzzled, I asked what that meant.
“It’s 238,855 miles to the moon from earth. After we hit 238,000 miles, is when we decided we would buy a new car.”
I liked it. Driving to the moon. I hoped my current Subaru Forester could make the moon and beyond. Right now, it’s just shy of the 200,000 mark my previous Subaru eclipsed.
When I grew up as a kid, no one wanted to drive their car to the moon. Trading in your car early and often was a sign that you had made it. No one wanted to keep their car for 10 years or more or put more than 200,000 miles on it.
Who am I kidding? I didn’t even know any cars that could make it 200,000 miles. Putting 100,000 miles on your car seemed considerable and well past it’s ability to be sold.
Now, letting people know you’ve got 250,000 on your trust Subaru Outback gives you bragging rights. You are officially a seasoned mountain resident.
Living in the mountains takes its toll on cars. Driving through snow, ice, mud, dirt and over rocks and washboard roads isn’t pretty. I’ve gone through several sets of tires, both snow and all terrain. The dirt roads wear out the rubber way faster. I’ve also had struts, stray bars, and timing belts replaced as well. But once you’ve broken in a car to mountain driving, you want to ride that horse as long as possible. It’s hard to give up on a well loved Subie.
I’ve long given up on my car being shiny and spiffy looking. I only wash it 1-2 times per year, because after all what’s the point. It’s got a dent on the front bumper from someone backing into me at trailhead, and a dent on the rear bumper from someone rear ending me. With all it’s character flaws, it just didn’t seem worth it to repair its dings and dents.
But it’s also taken me on all kinds of adventures. Every winter, it takes me to epic skiing adventures all over the state of Colorado. It keeps me safe as rental cars skid and slide over mountain passes, while my car grips the snowy pavement. I’ve survived rugged, rocky alpine byways that were supposed to be high clearance, four-wheel drive, and yet I’ve made it as it bounces over rocks and roots. I’ve carted dogs, furniture, bikes and skis to points unknown all over the west.
Yep, a good mountain car is worth its weight in gold.
As I approach my own “going to the moon”, it’s hard to know when is the right time of giving up on my well loved car, or keeping it going for one more month. When does that repair become throwing good money after bad? When does the peace of mind that a new car gives you make it worth monthly car payments for the next five years?
Time will tell.
