Copyright © 2022
By Ralph F. Couey
18 months ago I began a relationship. No, not with a human, but a magnificent automobile, the fulfillment of a dream that began in the fall of 1963. That was the time when the new car models were introduced to the public. It was a big deal back then when creativity seemed to be more important than the cookie-cutter models today. Ford introduced a new vehicle upon which they hung the name "Mustang." Each year, it got bigger and faster, culminating in the testosterone-generating 1969 Mach 1, also referred to as the Boss 429, with an enormous 429 CID (7.0 Liter) engine. This powerplant was rated at 375 horsepower, but a lot of experts will swear on any religious book you choose that the actual output was closer to 500 HP. This was a car you didn't just hear coming, but felt it as well.
Being a normal teenage male at the time, I lusted for that car, probably as a way of concealing my inadequacies in other areas. As my life progressed through the years, prudence put me into other less-appealing vehicles. But still in my heart was that longing that had not diminished.
In October 2020, in a moment of weakness, my wife suggested I should go look for a Mustang, if that's what I really wanted. It was like throwing gasoline on a fire.
I searched assiduously for a period of time until I pad a visit to Honolulu Ford. The first thing I saw was a parking lot full of Mustangs. After talking to the salesman, he tossed me the keys to a used Mustang I4, also known as the EcoBoost. Pulling out of the parking lot, it drove like every 4-cylinder car. Then, I pulled on the ramp to H-1 (Our Interstate Highway). Glancing at the traffic, I punched the accelerator.
Ohhh Myyyy...
The two-stage turbo kicked in and the car took off like a rocket. I drove it around for about an hour before returning to the dealership. After talking about the used car, he said that he had a brand-new version which had just been delivered. In looking at it, I knew. The deep blue metallic paint sparkled in the bright Hawai'ian sunlight. The lines were perfect. I got in and sat behind the wheel, looking at the chrome glinting in the light. It was new, still had plastic wrapping on the seats and the instrument panel.
And that new car smell. Mmmm....
Like a veteran angler, the salesman had hooked his fish. We went back to his desk to talk turkey. It seemed that my timing was fortuitous. October 2020 was deep in the throes of the Pandemic. Car dealers were having a hard time moving metal. In our negotiation, he told me that he could knock $9,000 off the price. I called Cheryl, and she gave me her permission. I arranged the financing and on a Sunday afternoon, the salesman drove the car out to our house in Pearl City, bringing the documents along with a full tank of gas with him. We sat at the table, I signed my name about 50 times, and he handed me the keys. He drove away in the trade-in, and the moment hit me.
I owned a Mustang.
The first time I drove it was going to work that afternoon. I'll always remember that drive. The ride was firm, the handling crisp, and the engine delivered everything I wanted. Interestingly, I later learned that my new ride was rated at 330 HP with a top speed of 155 MPH, not that far off the Boss 429.
In the year and half since, I happy to say that I still love this car. Every time I get behind the wheel I feel the same thrill I did that first day.
Now, for the first year I drove the Mustang, I drove it like, well, a Mustang. Jackrabbit starts, speed (for legal reasons, I won't say how fast), using the turbo to jet into spaces in the traffic. Of course, I wasted the advantage of a 4-cylinder motor, but it was just too much fun. Late last year when gas prices started to climb, I changed my habits completely. Now I drive...well, like a Grampa.
I accelerated in a more controlled manner, kept within and at times below the posted speed limit. I used the cruise control a lot more. The most important display was the average miles per gallon. Before, I averaged about 21-23 miles per gallon, getting about 270 miles out of the 14-gallon tank before filling up. With these new, wiser habits, I'm getting around 27 MPG, and as much as 330 miles out of a tankful. While it's not nearly as much fun, I realize that spiraling costs of everything, especially fuel, will force all of us into changing our habits.
The thing is, I'm actually enjoying this contest of frugality. I've learned some tricks to edge that mpg even higher. I leave more space between me and the car ahead, so the inevitable stop and go becomes an exercise in coasting, not using the brakes. Going home after midnight, there are still cars on the road, and I admit I've probably PO'd the poor impatient souls caught behind me, but I've really stopped letting that bother me. It's my money, after all.
Last week, I was ahead of schedule on my commute in to Diamond Head crater, so I pulled into one of the overlooks along Diamond Head Road. From there, the Pacific is a 180 degree vista of deep blue, speckled with whitecaps, and glittering in the sun. I leaned on the front of the car and emptied my mind while my eyes took in that incredible beauty. A tourist pulled in to the adjacent space, and when he climbed out of the rental, he stopped and looked at my Mustang. A low whistle, "That's a real beauty! You like it?" I smiled, and said, "After 56 years, it was worth the wait."
It's kinda nice driving a car that other guys want.
No comments:
Post a Comment