The Snowball
The Snowball | | Diaries |
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We hadn't meant to have a car at all. The ones we did have, the cute little blue Miata and the capable black 4-Runner, we sold, looking forward to the days in our retirement when we wouldn't need our own wheels, when everything under the sun would be within walking distance, including limitless recreation. But that vision was taking shape only slowly, and we came to realize that we were going to have to provide some of our own transportation. If we got a car, we could take a couple of kayaks with us to Mexico, and that little cafe table too. We could keep our bicycles. We wouldn't have to worry about getting everything into four duffel bags. We started shopping. We didn't know which car, or which kayaks. We went to REI, where the nice young lady assured us that any car could be made to carry boats on top -- just go to the Thule website, plug in the make and model and consider the options. She had predictions about which kayaks we'd want too.
Not only was the Ford Escape a clear winner at saving gas, but there was an article talking about a fleet of them operating as taxicabs in Mexico City! The promo picture showed it in white with matte black trim -- perfectly matching the ghostly beauty of one of the kayaks we were thinking of buying. The idea of Snowball was born. We bought her in June, in time to be able to shop for kayaks prior to Alex's last day of work at the end of September. We left her on the dealer's lot for weeks, not needing to pay for parking in downtown Seattle, and then housed her downstairs at the Harbor Steps for a month or two while we gathered accessories. By the time we left town she had about 400 miles on her. We had filled her tank once, not because she needed it, but for practice, so we'd know where the nozzle went when the time came. Driving a hybrid was tons of fun, especially in golf-cart mode around the parking garage. The tachometer needle moves up and down at unexpected intervals and suddenly drops to zero without warning or much other indication. There's a function that estimates miles per gallon, slowly climbing from the high twenties (after I learned how to turn off the climate control system that the salesman had left on for me) to the low-to-mid thirties. You can, indeed, turn just about any car into a kayak carrier, but some are more convenient than others. Sport utility vehicles have that nice rugged look, but they tend to be tall, as well as narrow at the top; and manufacturers who leave room for sunroofs may fit their cars with short little luggage racks that don't give much directional stability to their burdens. We gradually figured out how to mount two 22" wide kayaks flat and side-by-side, but it involves cheating a little bit. The outer Thule racks are clamped not to the cross-bars per se, but to the stanchions that attach the cross-bars to the rails. The manufacturers would have fits if they could see this. It's a good idea to glance at the lash-up from time to time along the road.
It may be that somebody is operating a fleet of hybrids in Mexico, but that does not seem to imply that anyone is selling them, or that the dealers or anyone else would know what to do with one if it stopped whirring. But on the other hand, for us rentistas, the car is just sort of a tourist in Mexico and is welcome to leave and re-enter the country now and then. It may be that she'll be making the trip to San Diego for her first oil change, at 10,000 miles. Even before we left town I started eyeing cars that were longer, lower and roomier as the ads used to say. Volvo station wagons began to look good. We had been offered one, but perseverated. Sadly for Snowball, except for having the primary qualification, unobtrusiveness, she is in many ways perfectly unsuited for her mission. You might say that her name reflects her prospects as much as her complexion. We set out from Seattle on a day that promised rain. We were late for having not just to load our kayaks, but to figure out how to cover them. We didn't make it to Federal Way before pulling over to reef on our feeble little tie-downs. We had expected to take a leisurely drive down the coast but decided instead to dash along the interstate in hopes of arriving before disaster overtook us. We made it as far as Castle Rock the first night, and that's where the foggy picture was taken. As the miles passed we began to relax. The kayaks tossed and turned a bit but did not waken. The engine did suddenly die -- but that was good news. Gas mileage fell toward 30 after we climbed out of Ashland, Oregon, following our night at the wonderful Oak Hill Bed and Breakfast; but after we reached Mexico with its lower speed limits and stop-and-go driving it has climbed back above 33. Though we bought the one that happened to be available, we got pretty much the car we would have chosen, that is, a very basic one. The seats aren't heated, or leather, or anything ostentatious, though the driver's can be made to tilt using a little electric switch. She lacks GPS but is Bluetooth-enabled, and thus could be turned into a giant rolling speakerphone if we so desired. She's built to hold nearly a hundred cubic feet of stuff aft of her front seats, and nearly a thousand pounds altogether, and is fairly handsome, crisp-looking at the rear, slab-sided but slightly eager, with a vaguely Nick Park face, like a baby Hummer at nap-time. Now Snowball spends quiet days parked on a dirt road south of Loreto, making it to town once or twice a week to have her windscreen squeegeed. Soon I will rustle up her instruction manual and find the part about changing the miles on her computer display to kilometers, simplifying navigation. Then, in what many hereabouts would consider a miracle, I will push another button, instantly teaching her Spanish. Update Jan. 24, 2009: It actually rained in Loreto this last week. I had feared that Snowball might be dust-caked, but what little dirt there was on the windshield brushed right off (except for the strip along each wiper, which needed some scraping first). As we were pulling out onto the highway, I hit the button for the windshield washer for the very first time. Wiping occurred, including the extra, delayed "courtesy" wipe -- but no fluid came out! I should have plenty of time before the next precipitation event to find out whether the resevoir is empty or the nozzles are plugged or what. A little sticker near the end of the blade on the passenger side, by the way, proclaims that Snowball was made in Missouri. January 31, 2009: We've gotten pretty efficient about our weekday shopping trips. Some of the stops want to be made last so that the frozen food doesn't languish too long, and that often means a first trip down Benito Juárez for the Que Buena Frutería, tortillas, water and a longer pause at Dalí, and then the post office, then back up Salvatierra to the Pescador for the bulk of our purchases. For any of those stops before that last one, we may be able to leave the car in its "on" position and hope to skip the engine's "warmup" run as we drive away. February 6, 2010: I remembered to bring the owner's manual into the house, and thus was prepared to change Snowball's settings for her next journey. In a way the effect was less pleasing than I expected. Her mileage had climbed back up to 33.7, but that's now reported as "6 L POR 100 KILOMETROS," losing two decimal places. But intstead of "PARKING BRAKE ENGAGED" she now says "FRENO ESTACIONAMIENTO. . ." although in a somewhat abbreviated form. The windshield washer mystery has been solved, at least in part. Again with the help of the manual I located the reservoir for the fluid and it was completely dry. There was never a trace of a leak back in Snowball's asphalt days, so I'm assuming it was never filled. The only fluid I've seen for sale since appears to be some non-streaking kind that the manufacturer warns against, so for the time being I'm hoping there's no rain while we're driving -- actually, a pretty safe bet. By the way, I filled the gas tank again, this being the second time since we got here in November. It didn't really need it yet -- the gauge still showed over a quarter of a tank -- but we've got company coming and decided that we would be ready for any travel that might be necessary. February 15, 2010: Curiosity got the better of me and I switched our "units" back to non-metric while driving home from the airport. Our 6 L per 100 Km is now 34.2 mpg. I think I'll leave it this way until we need to read inter-city driving distances again. Maybe we'll go to La Paz some day. Snowball is still performing well, but there are a few things about her design that I consider to be big drawbacks. My biggest complaint is with the location of her emergency brake, a pedal beside the driver's door. Putting it between the seats might interfere with the cupholders, but it would make it useful when starting on hills and, maybe more important, put it within reach of the passenger. There's another way in which Snowball is too much a driver's car: there's no keyhole on the passenger side. On my old 4-Runner, if you turned the key in the door twice it would unlock all the doors; on the Ford, you'd have to open the driver's door and do it from the inside, or use the unlock button on the key. March 8, 2010: Snowball now claims 34.6 mpg, on a steady regimen of 10K of highway travel followed by routine shopping. One should not let routine induce complacency. A couple of weeks ago I pulled up outside the post office, lept from the car without turning it off (visits are typically short -- we've only received mail on one occasion) and glanced back to notice that Snowball was following me, though at a demure pace. I struck an heroic, Superman-like pose at the right front fender while Alex felt for the brake with her left foot, fortunately missing the accellerator in the process. Even a "smart" car needs direction sometimes, and the transmission should not be neglected. 
April 8, 2010: Mileage has climbed ever upward. We reached 35.0 while returning from town last week, 35.1 on the little road to Juncalito, and now 35.2 on our way back from shopping. Maybe it's true that the Escape adjusts to driving habits. April 23, 2010: We filled up the tank again after we took our guests Chirs and Carol back to the airport. And why not -- it had been 490 miles since our last trip to the Pemex. We had all gone for our very first trip to San Javier and had a nice lunch and a pleasant look at the mission. Before we left, mileage had been hovering around 35.5, but on the way uphill it dropped to 35.3 at one point. Not a bad lifetime average, but it kept climbing, up to 36, after we were back in town for a while. Snowball seems to be enjoying the slightly warmer weather. May 1, 2010: We needed some things we couldn't find in Loreto so we made a trip to La Paz, about 225 miles distant. While resetting the trip meter I reset the gas mileage indication as well. Because we were on a stretch of highway that was mostly downhill, with a 60 Km speed limit, the guage briefly indicated over 80 miles to the gallon. But out on the flats it didn't drop as rapidly as I expected. I reset it again on a slightly hilly segment where the limit was 80 Km, and for the rest of the trip it showed mileage in the mid 40s. On the trip back we filled up again in Ciudad Constitution -- our fourth fill-up in six months. The Ford dealer in La Paz is on the main road and on our way out of town we pulled over and Alex went in and talked to the service manager, who told her that they would be able to do all the maintenance on our car. This means that Snowball may not have to leave Mexico for a long time. Our next obstacle will be learning to keep her registered. June 22, 2010: Re-registration of the car in Washington State, our last known address, went off without a hitch -- this year. We were able to pay online and have the new tabs sent to our friend Gail, who mailed them to us. They showed up in our Loreto mailbox less than three weeks later, in plenty of time. Next year Washington will expect an emissions test, but should accept our affidavit stating that the car is not being driven within Washington. Mexico will not allow the car to be registered here, October 6, 2010: It was pretty easy renewing our car insurance too, through Baja Bound, a company that understands the needs of snowbirds in general and Snowball in particular. Since the car was not in the U.S. at the time of the purchase of the policy, the transaction couldn't just be done on the Web, requiring a phone call instead, but even that was entirely pleasant. Insurance isn't a luxury in Mexico -- without it, an injury accident may be followed by a trip to jail, at least until they're satisfied that you're not at fault. October 10, 2010: We were gone for a while, and had to decide where Snowball would stay. Could have left her on the street and given the keys to our trusted property management guys, but chose Loretostorage.com instead.Saved some cabfare and knew she'd be well looked-after. Flying back into town I was wishing that I hadn't declined the offer of a wash job as part of the bargain. At the time we left her she hadn't been scrubbed since leaving Seattle, and a genuine tropical storm had passed through in our absence. I needn't have worried, though. In anticipation of our return Antonio had reconnected her battery, brought her over to the office and given her a thorough detailing. March 7, 2011: The last few weeks have been eventful. First, wanting to get organized for renewing our tabs, I began looking for the affidavit stating that the car is not being driven within Washington. What I found was even better! There is an exemption from testing, at least for now, not just for over-50mpg hybrids, but for all cars that meet 2009 California emissions standards. Typing in Snowball's serial number produced an offer to renew on the spot, so I went ahead and hit the button, though the plates don't expire until June. Next, we organized a trip to La Paz and a visit to the Ford dealer there, I got the 10,000 mile service done though we only had about 5,200, not knowing when we'd be back (and knowing full well how much dust had accumulated on our exterior, and in the little rear air filter). Maybe one of these days I will try the windshield washer again. Finally, even as I write, the street in front of our house is being paved, after years of being a faux stream bed and/or construction depot. With this change, and fewer reasons to drive into town, life had gotten easier for all of us, but especially our car. 
November 24, 2011: We are spending more time in the Northwest each year, and sometimes traveling abroad besides. This summer and fall we were gone for four months, and balked at paying for storage. So I left the car under a tree over by the golf course and hoped for the best. Actually, I did more than that. The tree had some thorns on it and I pruned some of the branches so they wouldn't chafe so much; and of course I disconnected the battery as instructed, and left keys, a wrench and directions in case anyone needed to move her. The tree may have provided shade, but apparently mostly debris. I think some birds must have nested above. When I got around to rescuing her Snowball looked like she had been at the bottom of a lake instead of under a tree. She started up without hesitation, as though nothing had happened. I spent some time restoring a mostly white complexion and cleaned off the windows well enough to navagate, and we made our first trip into town. Only a few weeks later we stopped in at the bank to pay the fees for our visas and there were some guys washing cars in the parking lot. For sixty pesos I got a thorough job. I gave them a little more, knowing that they had to remove several globs of resin that had resisted me. We bought her another tank of gas to celebrate, renewed her insurance online, and can report that, even without the prescribed re-education she is back up to 42 mph. There is one further event to report. On one of the early trips into town the tire pressure light came on. We stopped in at the local Firestone dealer and got some air and the indication has not reoccurred. I suppose this makes only twice that the tires have been checked since we bought the car, so you could still call this trouble-free operation. January 17, 2012: Well, the tire pressure indicator light came on again last week, and since the Firestone place is right across the street from Dalí, where we had gone to shop, I started to ask about the prospect of repair. But on a hunch we drove the car back to the house and I checked the pressure on each of the tires, using the Silca pump we keep for the bicycles. Sure enough, they all looked okay. The indicator lamp still comes on, but I've noticed that there's also a message saying that it's not working right. We're very likely to be spending the summer in Seattle again, and if that's true we'll have a chance to get this item fixed.
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I hit the Web to look at cars. We wanted one that would hold a fair amount of stuff and have enough ground clearance to get us safely to lunch at the Picazón. I looked at fuel economy in SUVs. Of course! We could buy a hybrid!
Also, Ford does not anticipate that you will want to tie things to the bumpers, there being none. This problem is "solved" by hooking the Thule tie-downs to bits of metal near the radiator in the front, and to the aftermarket trailer hitch (it not being a factory option on the thrifty front-wheel-drive model) in the back. Unfortunately, these fore-and-aft tiedown ropes do not converge, but instead run roughly parallel, thus doing absolutely nothing to prevevent the boats from launching themselves in a sudden stop; but they are a nice contrasting blue color.