This week, my Jeep rolled past 250,000 miles on the odometer.
Back in 1996, I got a call from Mary Ann while I was at work, asking what color I wanted. Never fashion conscious, I just wanted something dark and inconspicuous. I was told to come by the Jeep place after work. There, Thomas, by son, had already picked one out for me — the one on the showroom floor of course. I didn’t get all the bells and whistles, but it was very nice — the first Jeep I had. The first convertable, although hardly the push-a-button-to-take-the-top-down kind of convertable.
But it’s my favorite car of all time. Over time, I got a few things like the winch, and the tow bar, visible in the photo.
I knew we were going to be taking it on mountain roads and I just loved the idea of a winch. To this day, I’ve never had to winch myself out, but I’ve rescued quite a few other vehicles. It’s also been handy for yard work, hauling tree branches and such.
Today, for the first time, I had the windshield replaced, and I’m surprised how much clearer everything is. It seems that a quarter-million miles had left the surface very lightly pitted. Actually, it’s more miles than that. Since we bought the RV, the Jeep’s been riding behind (thus the tow bar) for an additional 50,000 miles that doesn’t show up on the odometer.
By the way, with oil changes every 3000 miles like clockwork, the engine has outlasted every other vehicle I’ve owned. I’ve had the computer replaced, a cracked oil pan (in Death Valley), a broken manifold, transmission linkages broken, a radio ripped out, and assorted other problems, but to this day, it still gives good service and I don’t forsee trading it any time soon. (Unless this blog entry jinxes it. And even then, I’d try to get a new Jeep Wrangler.)
I have always been a fan of that old Dodge station wagon with the push button tranmission you had when we first met. Too many adventures
Oh, I have fond memories of them all — the white car that never survived Amarillo, the station wagon, the blue van, the pickup with the two gas tanks. But there’s something about not praising old girlfriends too loudly. I don’t want the Jeep to get cantankerous.