Yesterday afternoon Jeff and I picked up our 2006 Honda Civic Hybrid from the dealership. This was very exciting; although we had technically bought it two weeks ago today, it didn’t actually arrive until this week.
You see, we knew we wanted a hybrid, and I’m not so keen on the newer Priuses. First of all it seems almost impossible to get one without a very long wait, and secondly I just don’t like the body shape. (I like a bit more of a tail on a car.) So we settled on a Civic, especially since they’ve been redesigned this year and are now full hybrids as well as very sexy-looking.
On the first Saturday after we arrived in California, we called up the nearest Honda dealership and said, We want a Civic Hybrid. They said, Can you come in? We could and did, and they sold us the car we wanted, in front of everyone on the waiting list. They had just gotten the VIN numbers (yes I know that’s redundant) for their cars and were starting to call people on the waiting list, but no one was picking up their phones. We called up at the right time, so we got our pick.
The car arrived at the dealership on Wednesday, but we didn’t pick it up immediately because we were having some extra features installed (most importantly a Lo-Jack device, which will greatly facilitate the recovery of the car should it ever be stolen). The dealership called on Friday to say it was ready, and could I pick it up that afternoon at 4:30? I got permission to leave work an hour early, and Jeff and I met at the dealership at the allotted time. We picked up the keys, signed on a few dotted lines, and drove away in our extremely shiny new car.
I say shiny
in both a figurative and a literal sense. The color is called alabaster silver metallic;
in plain terms it’s a sort of silvery almost-white. The interior is dark blue, and she drives like a dream. Driving is extremely fun, except that I’m terrified of all the California drivers. The number of crumpled quarter-panels around here is rather alarming.
Yesterday evening we drove home in the dusk and parked the car in the garage, then climbed up to our apartment to read the user manual and drool. We wanted to go somewhere but didn’t have anywhere to go. We contented ourselves with planning our Saturday trips.
So early this morning we bought groceries at a few hippie grocery establishments that were too far away for biking and the wrong direction for bussing. (Jeff and I have agreed that using the car for grocery trips once each week is acceptable, but mid-week trips must be on foot, bicycle, or bus.) Then we brought the groceries home, packed lunches, and drove off to Muir Woods National Monument for an afternoon of light hiking.
The driving turned out to be a little more exciting than we had expected; the exit sign for Highway 101 northbound was obscured by graffiti so that we took the wrong fork and had to wind our way through downtown San Francisco in order to find our way back to the Golden Gate Bridge. On the positive side, we got to see a little of San Francisco including the Embarcadero; unfortunately Jeff has decided that he hates downtown San Francisco. It’s too much city for him.
In contrast, our little hike in the Muir Woods was quite lovely. We plowed past the crowds on the Main Trail as fast as we could and turned off onto a side trail, where we spent a couple of hours hiking peacefully among hills, creeks, and coastal redwoods.
I’m glad that it worked out for us to pick up the car on a Friday, because we were able to enjoy the car immediately for the main purpose for which I want the car: getting out of the city and into the woods. We have also made plans to get together with one of Jeff’s longtime friends, who is studying at Stanford. One of the good things about living without a car is that it has given us an appreciation for the circumstances when a car is really useful and also for the times when it is unnecessary and wasteful.
I wish I could live like Dorothea and simply not own a car, but Flexcar hasn’t expanded to where I live yet, and I need to be able to get out of the city and hike. I do mean need; hiking is the only activity I have found that clears my mind completely of outside concerns. When I’m out on the trail, no matter how much stress I have at work or in life, the only thing on my mind is putting one foot in front of the other.