Saturday, September 25, 2010

Gut Feelings

I am not a "car person." I'm not mechanical. It has nothing to do with being a woman and everything to do with being a good-with-words, creative, musical, not-at-all-interested-in-how-stuff-works person. We all have our strengths, and understanding all the cables and components of my car's engine is just not one of mine.

That said, I am pretty good at knowing how to take care of my car. I've never changed it's oil, but I keep track of when it needs to be done and make sure to take it to the dealership every 3,000 miles or so. I can detect wear on my tires, I know how to check the oil level, and I "know" my car.

So in July, after a routine oil change, Rosie Pro was...different. I couldn't explain it, but she had a strange noise and she wasn't as responsive. The difference was noticeable to me--I've been driving this car for seven years, and while I couldn't find the intake hose if you hit me over the head with it, I can tell you how that car is supposed to go. Instead of zoom-zoom-zooming, my intrepid little Mazda was doing more of a grrr-grrr-grrr.

She also seemed the tiniest bit reluctant to accellerate. Okay, this car is no racecar--it has a four-cylinder engine (even I know that means "zero to sixty in 10 minutes") but she has pep. Normally when I ask her to go, she goes, and since July, well, she seemed a little tired.

I just had this gut feeling that something wasn't the same. And I've learned in life that you're supposed to go with your gut--only I didn't. Because she still drove, she still got me from point A to point B. And I drive less these days--I sometimes go two, even three days without driving because I walk to the gym, and I can walk to the grocery store if I'm not buying a lot of stuff.

Last Friday, as previously blogged, the battery started to fail. This wasn't cause for great concern, as the car has been running on the same battery since I rolled her off the lot in March 2003. Batteries die. So in addition to a previously scheduled oil change, we asked the kind people of Autowest Mazda to throw another battery in.

It turns out that the corrosion on the battery had leaked down into the wire harness. This wasn't something that needed to be fixed, as Heather, the absolutely marvelous lady who walked me through all of this (Dad and I have worked with her many times, and we trust her judgement completely) told me...but if not replaced, it would cause problems again at a later date. The best option for Rosie Pro was to get a new wire harness.

Of course, a wire harness is not a cheap replacement--it's a special order part, and it wraps around the engine compartment, making the installation a slightly more difficult process that changing out the battery. The bottom line, however, is that I need a reliable and safe vehicle.

There was other stuff going on--in the oil change, the service guy found that my intake hose was cracking. If it split open completely, my "check engine" light would come on, and it would cause bigger problems for the car. So it was decided that it was in my best interest to get a new intake hose (a cheaper and easier fix than the wire harness).

Finally, since August, the front passenger side door lock hasn't been working. During Friday's oil change, I had them diagnose that, and it turned out to be a broken actuator on the lock. It wasn't a critical fix--I simply had to manually lock that door and it made a really embarassing buzzing sound whenever I locked or unlocked my car. As Dad was helping me foot the repair bill (Merry Christmas, Happy Birthday, Pick A Good Rest Home For Us!), he said, "Eh, just get the lock fixed, too."

So I spent most of this week in Lincoln, waiting for Heather to call and let me know the wire harness was in so we could get Rosie into the shop. Dad and I took her there Thursday evening and first thing Friday morning, they got to work.

Of course, they found another issue--a loose ball bearing in the axel (after this, my ability to comprehend anything Heather told me was pretty foggy). Huge problem? Not right now. Car drivable? For now. Immediate danger to me? No...but it will need to be fixed eventually.

Dad said, "Just have them fix it."

We picked Rosie up at 5:00 yesterday. The dealership had washed her and I admit, I was rather happy to see her. It may be silly that I refer to my car as "she," "her," "Rosie," but honestly, this car represents freedom and independence to me. I live in an area with pitiful public transportation. Rosie is my trusty steed. I'm genuinely fond of this car.

As I pulled out of the dealership, I noticed something--Rosie was back to normal. The grr-grr-grr was gone, replace by that lovely Mazda "hummmm." The real test was out on the main road, when the speed limit got to 45. Rosie got her zoom-zoom back! It was an absolute joy to drive her home, and feeling--that gut feeling--that she was back to normal.

Anyway, the moral of this long ole post is to trust that gut instinct. I should have known that something was wrong, and I should have driven straight back to the dealership after that July oil change and asked them to see if something was wrong. I didn't--and honestly, I doubt it was anything that happened during that appointment that made Rosie lose her zoom-zoom. She's seven, she's nearing 90,000 miles, and things wear out.

Next time my gut tells me she's under the weather, I won't ignore it.

P.S. Mazda's Zoom-Zoom theme song has to be the best car commerical jingle ever. The commercial linked here is for the Tribute--my parents have one and it's a fabulous small SUV. I'm opposed to SUVs in general, but I make an exception for the Tribute (and would love to have a Tribute Hybrid someday, if Mazda never makes a hybrid sedan).

2 comments:

HubbleSpacePaws said...

Yep, the guts have usually got it. I am so glad Rosie is back in action and feelin' fine! A big, fat kiss for your dad from your friends, too!

alana said...

I'm glad everything worked out! We drive kind of junky cars and it seems like there is always something that needs to be fixed. I don't know what I would do without Ryan. Seriously, cars are big scary unknown to me.