Pacific Coast Roadtrip

You have to admit, it’s a good looking car. It’s gonna look amazing broken down on the side of the road.

My second attempt to reach escape velocity propelled me to the airport at the unholy hour of six. There is, apparently, a time before the sun comes up and it is offensive to my sensibilities. Thankfully, today ran like clock-work, and included a much more complete breakfast than I have ever made for myself, even on the ground! However, I think I should be worried at just how good I thought the airplane coffee was… clearly the fever has reached my brain.

While I was in the air, George began his secret mission. We knew had been making plans because he never discussed car shopping or what visits he would need to make today. He simply announced a bit ago that he had an Amtrak reservation to take him to Los Angeles. Unfortunately, in the time it took Evan to go calling on three San Diego options, George managed only to pace the train platform and get royally sunburned. The train before his was involved with a collision with a minivan and shut the line down. He asked for a ride shortly after I was fetched from baggage claim.

Evan had one more vehicle to see in SD, which you may remember from our first shopping impressions:

An MG Miget. It was very cool, but despite being listed as “Mint Condition!!” there were some issues under the hood. No deal breakers, the engine wouldn’t turn over. The homeowner who showed the car wasn’t its owner, so we asked if we could return tomorrow when he would be. Then we headed out for LA.

I hate being wrong. The boys said that LA would be an easier city to find cars in but I’d thought greater San Diego was sufficiently gigantic to find whatever we wanted. Well all three of us had more things we wanted to see up there, so we hit the road in our weekend rental. Thankfully, the first options were in Orange County, Santa Ana, Anaheim, and Fountain Valley, which are all near each other. At least at LA scale.

On the drive up, the truth came out: George bought that bumblebee! (Also one of the first Craiglist cars.)

A 1991 Volkswagon Cabriolet. With issues. He’d arranged to have Heidi, a family friend and our host for next week’s stay in LA, to meet the previous owner at Nyseco Motors in Santa Ana, buy it and leave it at the shop for a little work. So all he had to do was pick it up!

Meanwhile, I’d made a list of Mazda B2000s in the area and went calling on a two: Tony Long Bed and Anaheim Crew Cab (I named these people by what they mentioned in the ad.)

Tony’s “new tires great shape needs nothing” vehicle had some major problems. The tires were definitely not new, and on the test drive the brakes seemed to also be quite old and tired. Both would have been easy fixes and good points to pull the price down, but most worryingly, was how much the transmission, not the engine, roared. Evan and I decided to walk away.

Since Recent Repairs Paolo was away on vacation and Anaheim Crew Cab stopped returning calls during the time spent with Tony Long Bed, I was done in LA. Feeling a little despondent, I got back in the rental and we drove to Evan’s next option. An Alfa Romeo Spider:

This one was actually at a used dealer, so while Evan was discussing the particulars and took a test drive, I started kicking some tires. Then George made a discovery: the Bumblebee can’t do a hot restart.

Luckily, Evan pulled the trigger and his final paperwork provided enough time for George’s starter to cool off. We set out back to San Diego together: George in the Bumblebee, Evan in the Alfa, and me in the disappointing rental with the aggravating transmission. I admit intimidation by that drive: it was the first real road test of the first two purchases down a hundred miles on a busy stretch of the 5 just after sunset. It didn’t take long to learn that Evan’s alternator really has a hard time running the headlights and fuel injectors simultaneously. But we did make it in decent time without stops. We rolled back into the condo, immediately hit up Tiger!Tiger! for beer and sandwiches, and went to bed.

So while I’m disappointed that I’m the only one without a car at this point, at least that means: tomorrow is all about me!

I made fun of the Bumblebee and now I’m being punished. My alternator is bad, I need new tires, my key sticks in the ignition, and I have no idea where my battery is.

Well, it would be more difficult to kill all three of us at once and still make it look like an accident than if I went alone, right?

Taylor, you’ve spent too much time on Craigslist. When taking about the car part, it’s spelled b-r-a-k-e-s.

Yep. I can do that. I think we’ve got a deal. I’ll be over in a minute. Thank you.

What do you mean? Of course we’re going out tonight. We’ve been monumentally stupid. That has to be celebrated.

Our first family portrait.

As we came to consciousness this morning, we each pulled out computers, furiously searching Craigslist for the last horse in this race. With no Mazda B2000s left in the area, each remaining option put one criteria or another on the chopping block: red, pickup, old, or standard (after the day at Harris Hill, it became a preference). It was brutal. Too few good options, too much rubbish to wade through, too few people actually willing to show me the car this weekend. Ultimately, I set two appointments, made contact with another four people, and we set off for Escondido to view a red 1988 Red Nissan pickup.

The owner and his brother (who translated for him) were kind people, excited to let Evan and I take it on a test drive together. It’s a little four speed inline four with spunk. For a vehicle lacking so many basics, I have to admit, it felt good. This model offered an optional tachometer; but it was an unselected option. The speedometer’s dead, which means no odometer. Temperature gauge is probably questionable. There is air conditioning, but the fan works, although there are no vent covers and the diverter doesn’t want to send air anywhere in particular. But the engine seems solid and it ran with spirit in the test drive. After a brief negotiation over the price, I decided to go for it. A truck in the hand is worth two in the urban sprawl. Or something.

To save face, I asked Evan to drive it out of the lot to an abandoned warehouse on the next block. There, I returned to Bo’s lessons, making first gear circles until I felt marginally less uncomfortable. With Evan riding shotgun and George rolling his eyes at me from the air conditioned rental, we set off into the neighborhoods of Escondido. That poor clutch. I got off to a very rocky start, but things improved. Slowly. Ultimately, George went back to the condo and Evan put me through more practice drills before we followed.

Back at the condo and flabbergasted at the depth of our insanity, we took a break. Evan and I went to a tire shop to make our cars mildly less hazardous while George tinkered with who knows what. Then we hit up Fry’s Electronics and AutoZone for a few supplies before an incredible dinner at Jayne’s Gastropub.

Returning home, we toasted our victory and christened the vehicles and upcoming excitement before turning in for the night.