That seems unlikely because I personally buy used — generally, substantially used in fact, so I’m probably at least five years behind the curve.  Plus we will be needing to replace our 1998 Durango pretty soon methinks, and I’m not expecting self-driving cars to be affordable used cars within that time frame.

It’s pretty obvious that this is eventually going to come our way, however.  Some time ago I owned a 2002 Pontiac Grand Prix which was a pretty nice car.  To start the car you turned a key and it would start itself; no hand cranking.  It would shift gears automatically as you sped up and slowed down.  The steering had power assistance so you didn’t have to do all the steering yourself.  The brakes did also, plus they also would modulate heavy brake application automatically to avoid skidding.  When you would start driving the doors would lock automatically, and the headlights would automatically turn on when it was dark.  Cars have been evolving more and more toward full automation so we would surely expect cars that drive themselves within our lifetimes.

It’s got me pretty worried, but not why you think.

I’m really not at all concerned about the cars themselves.  I think that there will be accidents, sure.  But we already have car accidents, lots of them.  It is a rare day when there is NOT an accident between Lehi and Spanish Fork on I-15.  The software that runs these cars will not be perfect and sometimes bugs will cause crashes, but I can’t imagine it would be any worse than what we have now.  Plus, with a self-driving car it doesn’t matter if you are drunk, high, sleepy, or distracted.  I think generally travel will be a lot safer with robotic cars.

What worries me is that I will lose something I love, which is driving.  Really good cars are amazing to drive.  Not amazing like riding in a fast roller coaster.  Driving a really good car is so much more, because it is so engaging.  When automakers build a great sports car, they seek a balance between adding just enough aids that it makes the drive enjoyable but still makes you feel connected.  So the suspension is firmer so you can feel the road through your hands and your seat, and even tell how well the tires are gripping.  The steering assists are not so strong so you get a good feel for the way the car turns.  They put a manual transmission next to your right knee so you can control exactly what gear you are in and when you want to shift.  Cars like this feel like an extension of your own brain.  My Grand Prix was a very nice car and I enjoyed it for years, but it was not fun to drive like my 350Z or even my CRX was.

Self-driving cars are going to take the engagement out of driving.  Going to work in a self-driving car will be no more enjoyable than riding in a taxi.  And for many people that is probably fine for them.  I realize not everyone enjoys driving.  Being free to enjoy the sights or read e-mail on your iPhone might be much more fulfilling for most people.  But for those of us who like to drive, we’ll feel like a part of us is missing.

You might be thinking, well, if you like driving so much, why not just keep a normal car and you can drive it?  Self-driving cars and regular cars will coexist for a while, but eventually cars driven by humans will all but disappear.  When cars were first invented, they shared the roads with horse-drawn buggies and wagons.  Today you hardly ever see a horse-drawn wagon on the street, and on many streets it is illegal.  The prevalence of cars on such streets, and the reliance they have on the expectation that all the other vehicles on that street are regular cars, makes it unsafe to use a horse and buggy there.  Eventually, once self-driven cars become mainstream, I suspect we will see the same thing happen to regular cars.  Imagine a freeway full of self-driven cars all traveling at 100 mph with follow distances of only a half second or less.  Computers could probably manage this quite easily, but there is no way a normal human driver could safely drive in that environment.

I also expect that because of the disparity in safety between regular cars and the much-safer self-driven cars, anyone who wishes to own a regular car will be paying much higher insurance costs for the privilege of driving it in the places where that is allowed.  We may come to the point where really all you can do with your normal car is put it in a trailer, tow it to a race track behind your self-driven truck, and then drive your car at the track.

So, I see a future where something I love is basically gone from me forever.  It’s kinda sad to think of, yet it implies a safer future for my children, which is a good thing.  But for me, well, I guess what it means is I’d better figure out how to get that Ferrari before it is too late.

As you can see, it’s a bright red Dodge Viper.  Vipers sport a 8.3L V10 engine that puts out around 500 horsepower and about 525 lb/ft of torque.  In stock trim, it can get to 60 mph from a standing start in less than four seconds and will run an 11-second quarter mile, if you are a good enough driver to handle it.

I continued on to my vehicle.  It is also a bright red Dodge.

My vehicle is also a Dodge, and is also red, like the Viper that was parked not 50 feet away.  My truck has a 5.2L V8 that puts out 225 hp and about 300 lb/ft of torque.  In my experience, if the truck is feeling incredibly motivated, you can maybe get it to 60 from a dead stop in eight seconds or so, but usually when you ask it to accelerate it behaves like a teenager when asked to do the dishes.

Just because my truck is a red Dodge doesn’t mean it is a Viper.  No amount of me wanting it to be a Viper will make it so.

If I wanted, I could paint “Viper” on the side.  Or I could go online and, for a few bones, buy a Viper emblem to slap on the hood.  I could refer to my truck as “my Dodge Viper” and insist that others do the same.  I could enter it in car shows in the same class as other Vipers.  I could even pull up alongside people on the road or in a parking lot who are in a Dodge Viper and say, “Hey, check it out!  We both have the same car!”

This is something that seems pretty obvious, yet if you are paying attention you’ll be surprised how often this happens in real life.  For example, someone might want to criticize your weaknesses, but they don’t want to call it that, because that’s mean to do.  So instead, they tell you they are “giving you feedback” on your “growth areas.”  And then they proceed to criticize your weaknesses anyway, but they somehow feel better about it because they called it something else.  Or your buddy who is knee-deep in a MLM scheme will offer you a great new opportunity, because he’d never want to admit doing what he’s really doing, which is trying to rip you off.

My favorite example of this is something you see on nearly every Disney DVD.  Soon after the DVD starts up, a friendly voice invites you to take advantage of “Disney’s FastPlay” which, interestingly, is the slower of two options for playing the DVD.  Calling it “FastPlay” is not only a misnomer, it is a flat-out lie.

My best guess is that they think doing this is going to make me feel better about it, somehow.  Unfortunately for them, I happen to not be a complete doofus.  So instead it ends up insulting my intelligence because it makes me wonder what they must think of me to assume they can trick me into thinking a red Dodge pickup truck with “Viper” painted on the side is the same thing as a real red Dodge Viper.

Back in January, Amber and I realized that we needed to sell the Z.  As much as I wanted to keep it, I knew it needed to go.  Among other things, I knew it was going to need new tires again before the end of the year, to replace the tires I put on it just last spring.  Running through an $1100 set of new tires every year is just not within my budget.

I put it up for sale online and had interest pretty quickly, where “interest” is defined as “drooling teenage boys wondering if I will give my car away to them for nothing.”  So after enduring that for a number of months, I was so pleased when a mature gentleman with a thing for cars expressed some interest.  After he took the car for a test drive, he was in love.  Who could blame him?

Even though he was taking my baby away, I felt pretty happy because I know he’s gonna take good care of her.  Pretty much, I figure that is what it will feel like when my girls get married.

As a final act of affection, I washed the Z up good and had Amber take some pictures for posterity.  You can access the whole set here.

Slideshow:

Clearly, I was established in my lane, not doing anything wrong, when the other driver made an unsafe lane change into my lane, and my actions avoided a more serious accident.

Well, apparently not to clearly to the insurance company or the Utah Highway Patrol.  After discussing with the UHP, the insurance company came back and told me that they have determined that I am 100% responsible for the accident.

(???)

I spoke with the insurance company some more today and got some additional clues.  ”For one thing,” she said, “running into a stationary object will always have you at least 50% responsible.”

I admit, I did hit a stationary object.  I was unable to avoid striking an aluminum pole when I was forced off the road at freeway speed.  At my age, I guess my reaction time is not down to mere thousandths of a second.  Or I didn’t want to roll the car over by making too abrupt a correction.  But what about the whole part about BEING FORCED OFF THE FREEWAY?!?!?

I asked her about this, in a somewhat calmer tone.  It appears they’d forgotten that part.  I explained, “You do realize that I had to leave the road to avoid a collision with the other vehicle, right?  If I had not done that, we would be talking about a multiple vehicle accident, much worse damage to both vehicles, and we would likely have medical bills, even serious ones, in addition, right?”

I’m thinking, You are holding me 100% responsible because, when thrust into near-accident situation by another driver’s carelessness, I took the only course of action available to me to avoid serious damage and injury?

I figure she has some lookup table or database on her computer that says I’m responsible.  Where is the common sense in all this?

Needless to say we are having some discussions about this until I am able to get them to be reasonable.

Something in all of this seems wrong to me.  While driving like a normal, sane person, making a normal, sane pass on the freeway, another careless driver (or, possibly, ruthless, but let’s not judge, shall we?) cuts directly over into my path.  Because I took action to avoid the accident, he got off scott free while I have to pay the deductible and deal with the UHP and the insurance company telling me I’m responsible.  If, instead, I’d stood my ground, or simply failed to avoid the accident, I probably would have totaled the Z, totaled their car as well, and we might be writing this from a hospital bed.  But hey, I wouldn’t be paying for the accident!

Given the options, I’m still glad I avoided the accident.  But it still seems like I’m getting it from all directions and I didn’t do anything wrong.

I drove my 350Z.  I was excited to take it on a road trip anyway, but ironically the primary reason I took it is because it is the most fuel efficient vehicle I own.  (Sad but true.)  Knowing the temptation it would be to attack those open roads at high speeds, I decided not to speed at all and just set my speedometer at the speed limit and followed this strategy throughout the whole trip.

At about ten miles north of Beaver, Utah, I was cruising along at 80 mph in an 80 mph zone, in the right lane, just slightly catching a red 4-door sedan that was maybe 100 yards or so in front of me, maybe at a rate of one mile per hour faster than the red vehicle ahead.  Further ahead of us was a large semi.  We began heading up a hill and I could see that I was moving slightly faster than the traffic ahead, so I moved to the left lane of the two-lane freeway.  I could also see, however, that the red vehicle was quite a bit faster than the semi ahead.  As I closed the gap to the red vehicle, I continued to monitor it carefully, expecting it to move over into the left lane ahead and prepared to slow down to allow it to change lanes.

It never did.

Finally, by the time we neared the semi, I became convinced that the red vehicle was waiting for me to pass it and then it would follow me past the semi.  I accelerated slightly by two or three miles per hour to try to get past a bit quicker.  Suddenly, the red vehicle turned on its left signal and made a slight move left.  I let off the accelerator to go for the brake, but at that moment the red vehicle seemed to cease moving left and slow, seemingly deciding (or deciding again) to let me past.  I proceeded to pass him.  By this point my front bumper was roughly even with the red vehicle’s rear wheels.

Suddenly, the red vehicle moved rapidly into the left lane.  Not just sufficiently to avoid the semi — it moved completely into the left lane clear to the left hand side.  I quickly veered to my left to avoid contact.  In order to avoid hitting the red vehicle, I had to drive completely off the freeway altogether.

At 80 mph.  In a sports car with maybe four to six inches of ground clearance.

My primary thought at this point was to regain control of the vehicle by gradually slowing down and avoiding any major corrections.  The first obstacle was one of those three-foot-high aluminum posts with a reflector on top.  I was about 95% successful at missing this post, clipping it with the outside front right corner.  Next I realized that we were careening through the median toward the northbound lanes, which median sloped sideways at perhaps a 10%-12% grade.  I carefully brought the vehicle back to the right, smashing through one sagebrush plant after another, and somehow avoided rolling the vehicle over and brought it back onto the left southbound shoulder at maybe half of my original speed.  I slowed the vehicle to a stop and got out to survey the damage.

The first thing I noticed when I got out was a red four-door sedan continuing along the freeway southbound.  It did not turn around or stop.  I never saw it again.

I walked around the car slowly, looking for broken bits.  Mostly I saw tires and wheels full of dust and leaves and weed seeds.  I came around to the front right corner and saw where my 350Z and the reflector post had become acquainted.

The reflector pole does not play nice.

As you can see, the corner of the bumper had broken completely off.  You can clearly see where the post hit and caved in the fender.  That whitish container there is the windshield wiper fluid container; it is completely ruined.  The headlight is cracked and there is other damage, possibly more hidden damage.  I kicked the air in disgust, then briefly clasped my head in my hands and bent down a bit to catch my breath.  I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins as I tried to calm myself down.

When I looked up I saw that a pickup truck had pulled up behind me.  The driver hopped out and ran up to help.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah.  I think so,” I replied.  ”I’ve got some damage on the front of my car.”

“You aren’t hurt?”

“No, I’m okay.”

“Anyone in your car with you?”

“Yeah, my son.”

“Is he alright?”

“Uh, I don’t know.”  Yeah, I’m a great father.  I’m glad someone was there to remind me.  I checked with my son, who was pretty shaken up but otherwise unhurt.

The truck driver then said, “Man, that was some amazing driving.  That red car just completely ran you right off the road.  I saw the whole thing.  I was SURE you were gonna roll that thing.  You must be one hell of a driver to have saved that one.”

I looked back on the 100 yards or so we’d traveled off road.  I’m not sure how we kept from rolling it either.

He offered to call the local dispatch in Beaver.  He handed me his cell phone, at which point I described the red vehicle to the dispatch officer.  He confirmed that they would send officers out to look (in vain, as it turned out) for the red vehicle.  Meanwhile, a county Sheriff was sent to us to monitor the situation, and later a Highway Patrolman showed up to take a statement.

I let the Z run while we waited for the police, while I wrote out my statement, while we waited to see if anyone found and stopped the red vehicle.  I continually was monitoring my son’s mental state (I probably asked him “Are you alright?” so many times he was about to hit me) as well as the state of the car.  I was particularly looking for things like overheating (indicating a coolant leak) or an oil pressure drop (indicating an oil leak) as well as looking specifically for leaking fluids, smoke, or other problems, and listening for weird, atypical sounds.  Amazingly the Z seemed to be running completely normal.  Aside from a warning light on my dashboard indicating that I had no washer fluid, there were no indications from inside the car that anything abnormal happened.

Once things were wrapped up, I asked the Highway Patrolman to follow us into Beaver, which he agreed to.  I carefully pulled onto the freeway, listening to the sounds of the engine, checking to see how the steering and handling felt.  Other than a strange vibrating noise underneath the car, everything seemed perfectly normal.

We pulled off the freeway in Beaver, waved at the Highway Patrolman as he continued down the freeway, and pulled into a parking stall at truck stop to do a more thorough check.  Most worrisome was the vibration under the car.  After stopping, I was very relieved to see a large sagebrush branch stuck to the underside of the car.  We removed the branch and drove over to the gas pump.  No vibration.  What a relief.

After filling with gas, I decided to check the air pressure of the tires.  The front right tire, most directly impacted by the post, seemed low.  I drove to a tire shop next door who offered to check the tire for leaks.  Despite the low pressure, no leaks were found.  Derrick and I decided to get a bite to eat at a nearby Wendy’s and check the air pressure again after eating to see if the pressure maintained.

I ate, sort of.  Wasn’t exactly in the mood.  Derrick, on the other hand, devoured everything in front of him while I picked at my sandwich and fries.  Finally we threw my food away and, after verifying that the tire pressure had maintained correctly, we climbed into the car.

But before leaving, we prayed.  We thanked our Heavenly Father that we had survived the incident and that we were not hurt.  We thanked Him that I had been able to safely bring the vehicle to a stop and that we’d avoided a major accident.  We thanked Him that the vehicle was relatively unharmed and seemed to be functioning properly.  We thanked Him for people who stopped to help us.  We asked Him to help me to calm down and relax as we proceeded along on our journey.  We asked Him that the car might function properly and get us where we were headed safely.

What a relief to report that we continued on to St. George without incident, and last night we returned back to Spanish Fork safely.  I fully expect that there is some hidden damage, but I was very surprised, relieved, and honestly a bit proud that my Z had carried us home.

We pulled into the garage and I turned the car off.  ”Good girl,” I said to my Z as I patted the center console, and then gently kissed the steering wheel.  Say what you will.  I love that car.

As far as the red car is concerned, I admit initially I was quite angry.  Initially I wondered what was wrong with someone to just run me right off the road like that.  Now, however, I’m willing to give the benefit of doubt.  Is it possible that the driver of the red car did not know we were there?  Is it possible that the red car didn’t stop because the driver simply did not know what had happened?  Yes, it is possible.  I’d rather think it was negligent, not malicious.

From our point of view, we are grateful today that we survived it, and not just survived but escaped relatively unharmed.  Neither Derrick nor I were hurt in any way.  We are grateful for a good man who stopped to help, who may feel that he really accomplished nothing, but in fact helped me calm down and think, which was crucially important.  We are grateful that somehow the car was able to continue on without trouble.  And while I’m fully aware that the 350Z is not an off-road vehicle, and while I’m very happy to accept glowing and raving compliments about my excellent driving ability, I can tell you one thing right now without hesitation:  If we’d been in my red truck, we would have rolled it down the slope in the median toward the northbound lane, and we almost surely would have been severely injured or killed.

In which case, you wouldn’t have heard this story.  So you should be grateful too.

Until I remember I could get myself a pretty sweet Porsche 911 GT3 or an Audi R8 for about the same price.  But anyway…

Truthfully, I do think it is great that some companies are taking the plunge to build electric vehicles.  I’m not sure they have enough of a market to survive without significant government incentives, and I don’t think most people could currently justify the cost without government rebates.  But I do appreciate them trying to improve our environment with electric vehicles.

Problem is, I think we’re spending a lot of effort and billions of dollars in the wrong place.

Top Gear did a bit of a presentation on this in the first episode of Season 11 when they did a mileage comparison between the Toyota Prius and a BMW M3 Coupé.  In the test they drove the Prius for ten laps around the test track, and let the M3 follow along behind, just keeping up.  Despite having over 300 more horsepower, twice the number of cylinders, and nearly three times the displacement, the M3 still managed to get better fuel economy than the Prius for the same level of (admittedly boring) performance.

Additionally, the M3 didn’t require a large number of batteries placed along the underside of the car.  Top Gear claimed that the nickel for these batteries is mined in Canada, then shipped to Europe for refinement, then to China for processing, then for Japan for manufacturing.  Fossil fuels (primarily diesel, I would imagine) are transporting this material all along the way I’d expect.

All of this fails to mention that if you buy an electric car like a Volt or a Tesla, you will be plugging it into the wall every so often to charge the batteries.  In most places in America you’ll be using electricity that was generated from coal, gasoline, or natural gas; I read somewhere that about 70% of the electricity in the United States is generated by burning fossil fuels.

So, for the sake of discussion, let’s consider the upcoming Chevy Volt, a rather smart-looking true electric car with a gasoline-powered failover engine (not an electric-gas hybrid like the Prius).  If you get one, you’ll likely spend an extra $20000 for a new Volt over a comparably-featured gas-powered vehicle.  (We are not including the government rebate here, since that is fake savings anyway.  Where do you think that money comes from?)  Assuming the gas-powered vehicle gets 30 mpg, at $4 per gallon for gasoline, you will need to drive your Volt 150,000 miles on electricity only in order to make back the money you spent on a more efficient car.  Since the Volt can only go about 40 miles on a charge before the gas engine kicks in, that’s a minimum of 3750 40-mile round trips you will have to make, or two such trips daily for 5 years.

Of course, some of those trips won’t be 40 miles, so you’ll need more trips to make the money back; some of those trips will be longer and will end up using gasoline anyway.

Obviously we’ve assumed here that the cost of electricity is zero, which is certainly not true.  Trying to pin down a cost for the electricity to run a Volt for 40 miles is more effort than I want to make, but without question you’ll have to drive your Volt a lot more than 150,000 miles to break even.

In fact, currently I think it’s fair to say that you probably will never make back the money you spent up front for an “efficient” vehicle.  And maybe you are okay with that.  You know, maybe you get a lot of pride out of feeling like you are doing good for the environment, or at least, out of feeling the admiration of those around you for doing good for the environment.  Some may call this being smug, but I’ll give you the benefit of doubt here.

If that applies to you, and therefore you are willing to spend an extra $20000 for an electric car, we have to conclude that, ultimately, you are paying the money in order to preserve the environment, even if it ends up costing you personally.  So don’t you think you should be sure it is actually preserving the environment?  Wouldn’t it be nice to know that, at a minimum, the gasoline you will save over the lifespan of the car will not be offset by the extra fossil fuels used to manufacture this car (as compared to a regular car) or by the fossil fuels used to generate the electricity that powers your car?

Because if the carbon footprint created by operating an electric car cannot offset the carbon footprint required to build the car and supply its power, what exactly are you paying for?

The reality is, the electric car is sort of a red herring.  It’s a path that the environmental lobby is pushing to keep us busy enough to ignore the real problem.  The real problem is not gasoline powered cars:  It’s electricity.  Until we adopt better ways of generating clean electricity, electric cars have no hope of making a big enough impact to solve the power consumption problem.

There’s lots of great alternatives for electric power plants:  Solar, geothermal, hydroelectric, wind, and nuclear, to name a few of the most obvious.  The problem is, the environmental lobby doesn’t like any of these alternatives either.  So they redirect us toward solving the electric cars problem while the real problem — clean power — continues to mostly elude us.  It is frustrating that we continue to allow our focus to be redirected to a tactic that cannot win at the expense of one that can.

I bought it in 1999 for $1500.  I didn’t buy it because it was fuel efficient; I bought it because it’s like driving a go-kart every day.  Regardless, fuel efficiency was a welcome bonus with the CRX.  I added an aftermarket AEM intake and a Greddy EVO-2 cat-back exhaust which had a notable positive effect on performance (and it made it sound a lot better, too).

I drove it from Provo to Logan one time in 2003 and tested my fuel mileage on that trip.  Driving on the freeway, at between 70 and 80 mph most of the way, with performance modifications on a 15-year-old CRX with over 200,000 miles, I got just over 44 miles per gallon.

Yes, that’s right:  44 miles per gallon.

According to fueleconomy.gov, there are only two cars sold today that have better fuel economy than my CRX did.  Both of those cars are ugly, boring hybrids, whereas my CRX was a bundle of fuel efficient joy.  In fairness, the list is not entirely complete; for one, the all-electric Tesla Roadster is available for purchase and effectively gets infinite mpg since it is a pure electric.  Still, I think it is safe to say that the lack of fuel efficiency in cars is surprisingly disappointing.

I remember growing up in the late 70s and early 80s when we were introduced to such appalling vehicles as the Hyundai Excel and the Yugo 45, all in a quest to achieve better and better fuel economy.  I remember some cars advertising average highway mpg rates in the high 40s and even the low 50s.  I distinctly remember thinking that surely, by the time I was an adult, cars would be easily getting 80 to 100 mpg and that this would be so commonplace that it wasn’t really remarkable.  Funny how things have NOT gone that way.  Take a look at that list on fueleconomy.gov again.  Notice how many of those cars considered to be among the most efficient are only getting average highway mpg in the 30s.  Why do we think this is remarkable?  My 350Z is a 300 HP sports car, not an economy car, and I drive it as such; yet even in that car I’m averaging nearly 26 mpg!

It seems like we should be able to expect more than what we’re getting.

Girl:  “I thought we were going to a costume party.”

Phil:  “It’s like I said, I love this film.  I’ve seen it over 100 times.”

Girl (protesting):  “Phil!”

Phil:  “I told you, call me Bronco.”

Girl:  “Sorry, Bronco.”

And ever since that day my friend Brandon has insisted that we, too, call him Bronco.  I think it is because he also has seen Heidi 2 over 100 times.

Anyway, this post is not about my friend Brandon, or about the movie Groundhog Day.

It’s about my new Ford Bronco II.  It is one sweet ride.

Project Bronco II

I found this a couple of weeks after the quest began, which was labeled as a Ranger quest, but I did also say I would consider a Bronco II.  Bronco IIs are, in some ways, better (more seating, more weight over the rear wheels) and in some ways worse (much harder to haul a load of gravel).  But this one met most of my primary criteria:

• It runs, pretty well actually
• Has working four-wheel drive
• Is not completely gutless (just somewhat gutless)
• It needs some work but is not a complete pile
• It has a fuel-injected 2.9L V6
• It cost $1500 exactly, so it met the requirement of being “no more than $1500″ just barely.

Getting it to pass inspection was a bit of a shocker, it cost more than I thought it would.  Minor fail.  And there’s a lot of work left to be done on this to even get it to looking decent, let alone being awesome.  But I can envision this thing, with a 4.0L V6 or 302 swapped in, a bit of a lift, slightly larger wheels and tires, painted bright orange.

We’ll see.

First off, I bought the Z because I like hot cars.  I like horsepower, speed, handling, and great looks.  I didn’t buy the Z to impress anyone or to try to be cool.

I know that sounds like an excuse, but after a number of comments from friends hither and yon, I really did think inwardly about why I bought that car.  I can honestly say that I did it for myself, not to impress people or try to be someone I’m not.  I’m relieved to find that out.

That being said, one of the first things I learned about the Z was this:  You get noticed.  People look as you drive by them on the freeway or as they drive by you.  They will comment, “Nice car, man,” or some such, when you park near them in the parking lot, or you’ll catch them walking around your car looking when you come out of the convenience store.

Not most people, but some people.  This never happened with my Grand Prix.

Another thing I noticed:  It’s kind of a chick car.  I had it parked there at the Roosevelt Car Show next to my brother’s Mustang GT and I spent a fair part of the day sitting there while people walked by.  When people were walking up, girls would walk to the Z and guys would walk to the Mustang.  Guys would look at them both and comment to each other on how they liked the Mustang better; girls would comment to each other on how they liked the Z better.  In the latter case, some variant of the word “cute” was overheard a number of times.  This was pretty much a universal thing.

So if a Mustang is more of a guy’s car, maybe I should’ve bought a Mustang instead.  Except my wife really likes going out on dates in the Z.

A good thing I learned:  If you buy a sports car, you need some time to get used to it.  Learning where the clutch engage point is, how long it takes for the engine and transmission to warm up, how strong the brakes are, etc. took a while.  The friction limits for turning are particularly important.  I’ve almost gotten myself into trouble trying to turn with too high a g-load.  After a year of driving and about 15000 miles, I’m still learning, so if you buy a sports car, be prepared to settle in and get to know her slowly.

300 horsepower can get you into trouble in a hurry.  This is a long-term relationship, not a fling, so get to be friends first.

Now that I’ve had the Z for a year, I can tell you about some of the bad points:

• The blind spot.  Holy cow, do the 350Zs have a blind spot.  That spot off the left rear corner is completely out of my vision.  This is especially true a) if the sun is shining into the driver side window, or b) if it is dark.  Now you know — 350Zs have a serious blind spot.  If a Z is merging onto the freeway and he cuts you off, just know that he probably can’t see you there and it was most likely unintentional.
• Alignment.  You have to be very careful with a Z’s alignment so you avoid tire problems.  This means I end up having the tires rotated a lot – every 3000-5000 miles.  It’s annoying.
• Expensive repairs.  Since I bought it about a year ago, I’ve spent over $4000 in repairs.  Here’s what I paid for:
  • $1100 – New tires.
  • $2600 – New fan, water pump, and thermostat.  (Yes, really.)
  • $100 – New battery.
  • $300 – New serpentine belt and tensioner.

Of course, those are minor in comparison to the good points, some of which are:

• Handling.  The Z is like the ideal child:  Whatever I tell it to do, it does.  Immediately.  Turn here?  Okay.  Stop here?  No problem.  Jump into that small opening in traffic?  Yes Daddy.
• Power.  The Z has a weight-to-horsepower ratio of just over 11 (lower numbers are better).  Compare that to 19 for my wife’s Durango and my old Grand Prix, or 18 for my CRX.  Or compare it to 11 for a Mustang GT, 7.5 for a Corvette, or 9.2 for a Porsche Cayman S.  The Z can push you back in the seat and as you climb through the gears it just keeps grabbing at the pavement and lunging you forward.  I have no idea how fast it will go.
• Sound.  The Z comes with an excellent sound system:  The Nissan VQ35DE, an awesome 3.5L multi-port-fuel-injected V6 with variable valve timing.  If you romp on it hard enough to cross the variable timing threshold you will be rewarded with an awesome sonic wonder as the engine climbs toward the 6600 RPM redline.  And if you don’t like that sound system, or are in a place where you can’t really experience it, the Kenwood/MTX/Rockford Fosgate setup in my Z is a pretty decent substitute.
• Look and Feel.  It looks awesome from nearly every angle.  It feels awesome when you are sitting inside it.  The ergonomics would make Steve Jobs proud.  And when you strap into those bucket seats and close those high-sided doors, it feels like your car is giving you a big old man-hug.  Sorry, but it is true.

So, am I glad I bought it?

Yes.  And no.  But mostly yes.  I love driving it.  Love love love driving it.  Even when I’m not speeding, which truthfully is most of the time, I really love to drive it.  I love to look at it, and then drive it some more.

I love the thought of owning it.  The reality of owning it is less great.  It’s expensive to maintain.  My other car was fully paid for, and when I sold it there wasn’t a thing wrong with it.  Now, every time I make a payment on the Z or have to get something fixed, I think about how the Grand Prix was running excellent and was fully paid for.  Maybe I should have just stuck with the Grand Prix instead.  Inside my mind, it will forever be running perfect with no flaws.

But it will never be as much fun.

But Rangers and Bronco IIs are primarily what I am questing for.  Now that I’ve got the 350Z and I’ve sold my Grand Prix, life is mostly great except I’m concerned about winter.

Fact is, there are just too many people around here who are praying for snow all the time.  I’ve been trying to tempt them into grievous sin in order to keep the roads nice and dry but they aren’t giving in.  I don’t want to risk trying to drive the Z in the snow, with all that horsepower going just to the rear wheels.  So I’ve been looking for a little truck or SUV.

Here are the basic requirements:

• Must run
• Four wheel drive must work
• Must pass inspection, or be able to pass with minimal investment
• Must not be completely gutless
• Must not be a complete pile
• Ideally should be fuel injected, not carbureted
• No more than $1500

I found a candidate not too long ago.  It was a 1990 Bronco II with a little bit of extras done to it for only $1300.  It looked like just what I wanted.  Here’s the chronology of events:

• See the truck online for sale.
• Text the owner to say I’d like to look at his truck.
• He texts me back to say after work will be fine.  He lives in Salt Lake; I live in Spanish Fork and work in Lehi, so I want to go see it before I head the opposite direction home.
• As I’m preparing to leave I call to make sure he is around, nobody answers.  I tell him to call back within the hour because after that I’m heading home.
• An hour and 15 minutes later he calls to say, “Now is a good time.”
• When I get home I text back and say, “Sorry I missed you; maybe tomorrow.”
• The next day I try to see if he will be home that night for me to look at it.
• About midday he says, “Sorry, I just sold it.”

Dang.

The next one was a slight deviation from my quest:  a 1990 GMC S-15 Jimmy for $1000.  The ad online says, “It runs great, no problems.”  I stopped by to look.  It was admittedly in pretty straight condition — good exterior, clean interior, good upholstery.  Then I noticed the front right tire is worn down to the cords on the outside edge of the tire.  Bad suspension?  Bad alignment?  Who knows.  I open the hood and it is a carbureted V6.  Hmm.  Then I asked, “So, how does it run?”  “Oh it runs great.”  “No transmission problems?”  “No.  Well, it won’t stay in first gear.”

That doesn’t sound like “no problems” to me.

I took it for a test drive.  GUTLESS.  You have to start in second gear all the time, which makes matters worse.  Feels like it is about to fall apart all the time.  Moving on.

The next candidate is a black 1990 Ford Ranger extended cab.  Stopped by to take a look the other day.  Paint job is the old driveway special (several cans of spray paint) over what looks like some bondo work.  Interior is THRASHED.  This one is at a dealership.  The dealer says, “I just took it in on trade.  It runs, but it makes a weird noise when it runs.  I have no idea if the four wheel drive works or not.”

Still, that one has some potential.  But an engine that makes a weird noise makes me pretty nervous.

The next candidate is another black 1990 Ford Ranger, which is also red and white — it was wrecked and had some body panels replaced.  Sounds like it runs pretty good and that the four wheel drive works.  I’ve heard this before though.  Will have to take a look shortly.

A running, four wheel drive, non-pile Ranger or Bronco II for under $1500?  It sounds like a grail quest.  I’ll keep you updated.