And Then There Were Cars…

I didn’t realize it at the time, but if you look back through the pictures of me as a little kid, a theme emerges. In almost every single shot, I’m clutching a car, truck, or some sort of four-wheeled thing in one of my hands. Maybe it’s a coincidence that I grew up to be a car nut, but…maybe not.

Fast forward a few decades, and now I have a little boy of my own. And ever since he could, well, move, I’ve been watching for that interest in cars. To date, nothing. Oh, he’s shown a complete a total fascination with the Pixar film, but as far as actual cars go, he really hasn’t taken to them. Save as convenient projectile weapons.

In the past couple of weeks, though, that’s changed. And now he’s carrying around cars, kind of driving them around on the floor, running them down his little slide.

I couldn’t be happier. I mean, I want him to like what he likes, whatever that may be. But cars…that’s something I can get into, something I can nurture, something I can bond with him over.

And so tonight, after dinner, I took Nolan to Wal-Mart. Yeah, I know…shudder…but their Blu-ray prices absolutely spank Best Buy, and I wanted to pick up Monsters, Inc. So while we were there, we wondered over to the toy section to get a car or two.

I picked out one, and Nolan picked out the other.

Next up…history and sci-fi…

 

 

Fare Thee Well

The last (and only) time I wrote a valediction for a vehicle was three years ago, when I bid farewell to a certain Land Rover Defender. Now, it’s time to do so again.

I’ve had a fascination with Minis ever since seeing The Italian Job way back in 2003. At the time, they were wholly incongruous with my passion for offroading, but as the years wore on, the damn things kept bubbling up. It took three years, but in May 2006, I broke down and ordered a 2006 Mini Cooper S.

The Mini didn’t spark my love of small cars. That honor goes to my brief time in the 2002 Mazda Protege5. But the Mini cemented it. Now, after almost two years in the little gray rocket, I couldn’t imagine going back to some of the big, blundering vehicles I’ve owned in the past. And, in all honesty, I have trouble seeing myself driving anything but some form of a Mini from here on. Everything else just seems so…boring.

What is it that I love so much about the Mini? First and foremost, the handling. I could do without some of the jarring, but on good roads, the suspension comes alive and makes the car taut, eager, and agile. Add to that some of the best steering feedback I’ve ever experienced, and what you get is one of the best driving cars around.

Second, the styling. The contrasting roof and ridiculous-yet-somehow-fitting sport stripes. The bonnet scoop. The toggle switches and oversized, centrally-mounted speedometer. These cars abound with personality, and the ability to build them to order, exactly the way you want, really highlights the limitations of just about every other car on the road.

Third, the space. Despite its diminutive dimensions, the Mini is surprisingly roomy. I’ve never once felt cramped, not even when the wife and I took off on a road trip to Colorado last year. Okay, so it can’t swallow a refrigerator or a big HDTV, but let’s be honest, neither can any save the largest SUVs.

I’ve come to love this little Mini and everything it represents. It’s hard to let it go, but times change, and at least with the Clubman I’ll be able to fit Nolan’s car seat without having to sacrifice the joys of owning and driving a Mini.

Arrived

The Clubman’s been delivered to Mini of San Antonio. I’m taking delivery tomorrow afternoon, but my sales guy was kind enough to send along a teaser image!

Off the Grid

Well, my Clubman is getting closer. Unfortunately, I can’t say how much closer. It’s ship, the Independence II, has already come and gone from Charleston, but, from a tracking standpoint, it’s been radio silence ever since the Mini was loaded way back in Southampton. By now, it could be at the Vehicle Distribution Center, or maybe even already on its way to San Antonio.

So, long story short, I should be taking final delivery at some point.

Independence Day

I found out this morning that the Clubman’s booked on the Wallenius Wilhelmsen transport Independence II, which is scheduled to depart Southampton tomorrow and reach Charleston, SC on May 11th.

So I guess you could say that, tomorrow, the Mini’s ship will come in.

Clubman Update

I just got word that the Clubman finished production yesterday, and is now en route to Southampton, where it will catch a ride across the Atlantic. From there it’s on to Charleston, then San Antonio.

No idea what ship I’m on yet, but there’s a 50/50 chance it’ll be the K-Line Emden. Which would be bizarre, considering that’s the same vessel my Cooper S took across the pond back in 2006!

Clackety, clackety, THUNK!

Since I’m not really at liberty to ramble on about some of the bigger things going on in my life at the moment, I figured I would take a moment and ramble on about some of the minutiae, instead.

Turns out the Mini has a screw loose. Or had, rather. Earlier this week, one of the two screws holding the license plate to the tailgate just…disappeared.

Now, I’ve experienced some random and spectacular automotive mishaps in the past (most of them surrounding British vehicles). I’ve had bolts work their way loose and slide forward into radiator fans. I’ve had oil lines fail, spray their contents atop the engine block, and set the whole engine bay on fire. I’ve had entire electrical systems fail WHILE DRIVING. But I’ve never seen a vehicle throw a license plate screw. Well, until now.

Being the resourceful type, I headed to Lowe’s for some replacement hardware. Easier said than done. See, the screw is an M5 x .8 x 8. In plain English, you’re more likely to find a unicorn hanging out by the pegboard than you are to find this screw at any home improvement supercenter. So I made due with a suitable substitute.

Purchase in hand, I made my way to the parking lot and set about reinstalling the license plate. About halfway through, I was interrupted by an older gentleman who asked me what I was doing.

“Making sure they can’t find me,” I said. In jest, of course, but I don’t think he quite got it.

Once the plate was reattached, I realized I’d left the decorative frame sitting in the boot. Grumbling, I opened the tailgate, retrieved said frame, closed the tailgate, and froze.

For the past year and more, I’ve grown accustomed to the tailgate making a terrible racket every time I closed it. Yet this time, it slammed shut with a quiet, authoritative THUNK.

The license plate frame was the cause of all that racket, for all that time.

Suffice to say, I left it off.

Exciting story, no?

Chin Up

Like almost every new vehicle these days, my Mini came with remote keyless entry*.  Remote, however, must mean something entirely different in England, because no matter how often or how hard you press that unlock button on the key fob, it won’t trigger until about fifteen feet away.

Unless, that is, you use the super secret Mini trick.

I first read about this on a few Mini message forums, and like any right-minded (okay, debatable) person, I dismissed it as a bunch of hooey.  See, the super secret Mini trick is that, if you hold your key against your chin when you press the unlock button, it extends the range to approximately 32.48 miles.  Yeah, right, and those little sticker dealies you put on the back of your cell phone really boost the signal.

Then I tried it for myself.  Sure enough, it worked.  Walking out to my car one day after work, I hit the unlock button from about a hundred feet away.  Nothing.  Then, after looking around to make sure no one was there to see me, I held it to my chin and pressed again.  Lights flashed and, from across the parking garage, I heard the thu-chunk of the doors unlocking.

Amazed at this discovery, I tried it again, and again, and again, until I was comfortable enough to reveal it to the wife.  Being a right-minded person herself, she of course did not believe me, even when I showed her.  So I had her try it herself.  Her eyes lit up like Christmas.

Of course, nobody can give me a good explanation as to why the chin
thing works, other than a rather shrewd guess that the laws of pyshics
do not apply to British automobiles.  Having been around
enough…well…that does seem to be the case.

*Why do they call it "remote keyless entry" if you have to push a button on your key?  If it was truly keyless, the key would be unnecessary.

Homecoming

Picked up the Mini today.

The drive home through the winding Texas hill country was an absolute blast.  It made all of the waiting and anticipation worth it!

More pictures are up on Flickr.

It’s the Final Countdown!

I’m heading down to San Antonio tomorrow to pick up the Mini.  A little more than twenty hours to go!