Car Troubles

I have a love/mostly hate relationship with cars and as a result, American Car Culture. I find it fascinating as an objective observer yet I still tend to fall victim to its clutches. Though I have only ever been able to claim ownership to three cars—I’m not even sure if I ever really legally owned the title for first two. In 2018 with just under 10,000 miles on it, I bought a 2016 Subaru Impreza. The first car I ever purchased myself. I thought it defined me, as a treehugging jamband-following hippie. It became an extension of me. With just under 174,000 miles it has been diagnosed with a head gasket failure. I have been forced to research, look at, and test drive new cars, and it reminds me of that fateful day at the Subaru Dealership, where I likely began my distaste for American Car Culture.

I don’t regret buying my 2016 Subaru Impreza, it became mine and sort of a part of me in ways many inanimate objects aren’t and don’t. I was just left with distaste for the purchase experience I had. I purchased the Impreza shortly after moving into an apartment with my then girlfriend, now wife. We were so stressed out about the money, especially after having to now pay this new thing to us called Rent. But my 2003 Chevrolet Malibu was sounding rough. It had left me stranded once, my last inspection was a doozy, I’m sure more things were about to start falling apart. We were starting this new chapter together, it felt imperative to provide us a more reliable vehicle.

During the purchase process I had my eye on a different car that was sold out from under me, and with a dying Malibu in the parking lot, I felt the pressure to go home with something. They steered me towards a different newer Subaru, less mileage, a few more bells, a few less whistles. After the test drive I acquiesced, signed the purchase agreement, but couldn’t go home with it that day. I went home that night disappointed and stressed out in my puttering Malibu, and began having second thoughts. Ultimately I didn’t back away, I’m not even sure if I could after signing the purchase agreement. The next day I naively got swindled into all the bullshit they try and sell you on at closing and I took home my shiny new baseline green 2016 Subaru Impreza. It lasted me 8 years, through a tough job I ended up walking off on one day, and through all the fun road and camping trips my wife and I took over the miles. Thick and thin. I ended up putting just under 164,000 miles on it myself. By the end, it was looking haggard and outgrown. The low front bumper had scraped a few too many curbs. A few rear-ends. The head unit touch screen was shattered by a lazily inserted 2x12x12 that was much too big to fit in the car in the first place when I started taking on bigger DIY projects after we bought the house. My wife and I are also expecting a child quite literally in the coming days now and our camping trips will start to demand something a bit more rugged. I also wanted something that felt safer. I had clearly outgrown it, and surprisingly have been setting my sights on a pickup truck the past few years, since I’ve started to lust after them at campgrounds and the beach.

I’m not really a pickup truck kind of guy though. I read the book Carmageddon by Daniel Knowles in 2025, and he didn’t have a single nice thing to say about trucks. His argument against them was so compelling I still feel a bit self conscious about buying one. I am supposed to be a treehugging liberal hippie. My Subaru says so. During my search I kept reassessing needs and tried to expand my options but I would always come to the same conclusion. It was hard as this blue-collar worker, outdoorsy, DIYer homeowner to justify another sedan, a hatchback, or even a mid-size crossover knowing the kind of wear and tear I put on the last one, especially after taking the needs and ambitions I have for the foresee-and-unseeable future into account.

I had been entertaining the idea of buying a new car for awhile. The first truck I had my eye on was a Tacoma. Because as capitalist American Car Culture dictates, that’s the truck a blue-collar outdoorsy homeowner needs. After seeing a tactical/forest green one (it depends on which kind of truck owner you are, I guess) on vacation at the OSV on Assateague Island National Seashore one year I could almost feel a new seed of identity-capitalism being planted and I knew I wanted something similar for my next vehicle.

Unfortunately when I began my car search even before I knew for certain something was wrong with the Subaru, the time came a month ago to put my money where my mouth was and my wallet quickly disagreed. Toyota’s fetch a steep premium, even for a used and high mileage Tacoma. When compared to the next best, or according to some on the internet, I went with the even better thing, a Nissan Frontier.

From my very limited understanding and automotive expertise the Frontier has a newly designed V6 310hp engine standard on their 2021 lineup to present (2026). Newer Tacomas come turbocharged with either a V3 or V4 nowadays, and I’m not a huge car guy but from what I could tell, a lot of Toyota fanboys seem unhappy with this decision. I scoped the market and after finding a sweet spot with my financing and money down I set my search parameters to the 2022 Nissan Frontier SV, with my total budget to around $30,000-$32,500 and under 40,000 miles.

The first Frontier I test drove was the color of green I wanted, had the tech/safety features I wanted, had a clean and detailed maintenance history, but had 80,000 miles on it. Unfortunately the mileage made it a no go. I test drove 2 pro-4x’s, the one I liked had my preferred green, a bed cap (do you know how expensive those are?!?) but was rough looking underneath and a bit above my budget anyway. According to the carfax it spent some time in Alaska. I can only imagine the kind of overlanding and off-roading the previous owners did. The other Pro-4x had nothing in the way of modern safety technology like blind spot detection or creature comforts like heated seats that I assumed had become almost standard on most modern vehicles, especially on the nicer Pro-4x trim.

It was about now that I was starting to panic and feeling like I’d never find an acceptable vehicle. My Impreza was acting weird in ways I couldn’t even explain to my mechanic. While I’m not a dad yet, I’ve been told I’m ‘nesting’—working on the house, tackling the assorted looming background tasks and expenses, getting everything ready in preparation for the baby. And I could just tell something wasn’t right with my trusty steed, maybe you can call it Nesting Fathers Intuition, maybe I just really felt a connection to this car. On a hunch I checked fluids one day and noticed low coolant, after refilling and driving home I went to check its level for a leak but instead I found a chocolate milk looking substance, I figured the worst. I couldn’t drive our newborn home in the Impreza if it was becoming unreliable.

While endlessly scrolling on the myriad of car websites I was logging into at this point, a sparkling blue Frontier that had been sitting at a small used auto lot in my hometown for almost 90 days slid into view on my screen. After my first test drive, I knew it was going to be my next car. It wasn’t my favorite color, so I did some additional due diligence and test drove another 2 Frontier’s—just to be sure—and then I went back and haggled.

I’m not much of a haggler. My anxiety seems to get in the way of awkward situations, especially when it involves money. I recently started psychiatric treatment for related issues, and situations that previously felt insurmountable have now become routine. Car dealerships also seem to be one of the last bastions of retail haggling, and I was desperate for a deal. After some more research, this time on haggling when buying a used car, I went to the dealer prepared. I had an out-the-door target price, a preapproval, and my checkbook ready to go for a down payment. I wanted them to know I was serious. I was able to get roughly $2,000 off the sticker price, essentially getting dealer fees and taxes taken off. It was a small win I don’t think I could have accomplished while unmedicated. I took home my new Frontier and while I wasn’t expecting to buy gas every week, I’m still happy with the purchase and have already justified the truck many times over. I’ve picked up free furniture from friends who simply wanted it gone that I couldn’t have transported with the same ease previously. My brother and I also took on a large painting job that helped cover gas and car payments for the next few months. I don’t want to even imagine lugging our toolboxes, ladders, scaffold, and buckets of paint in my old hatchback.

As for the fate of my Impreza, one of the mechanics at my friends shop offered me $500 for it after he gave the malignant head gasket diagnosis. He said he planned to swap the engine and give it to his brother. I had trade-in offers from a few of dealerships for $1000 and $100. What I really wanted was to sell it for cheap to my nephew as his first car. After I got the news, those plans were dashed and the $500 offer from the mechanic who knows what he’s going into felt like the appropriate and easy decision.

It was tough to see my trusty steed that never left me stranded, even after all those miles sit there helpless with its hood open, oil bubbling out from the coolant flush cap, proof that oil and coolant are catastrophically mixing in ways engines typically dislike. I felt like I was just told that my childhood dog was rabid and had to be put down. Emotion overwhelmed me in that moment and with it came all those thick and thin memories rushing through my head alongside all of the fear and uncertainty of the future. I had to leave the testosterone filled garage and have a solid cry. I have always felt weird connections to inanimate objects, especially those I rely on. My life, as most people’s, seems chaptered by new large purchases like apartments, cars, and houses. I’m sure that part of this unexpected emotion is knowing that a big chapter is ending, and a new one starting, much like when I bought the Impreza. With a newborn on the horizon, my life is about to change in ways I can’t imagine. I’m happy that the Impreza will drive on, I hope it lasts the new owner another 174,000 miles. Maybe they’ll see it get to the moon, I always wanted to see it hit 250,000 miles. Maybe this time my Frontier will and my family and I will make more memories to cherish.