The return of the Ford

You know what’s fun? Resuscitating an old Ford out of hibernation.

As most of you loyal followers know, I have an old Ford Escape XLT, fully loaded, don’t judge.

It’s a great old “truck” because I a. don’t owe any money on it b. the insurance is hilariously cheap and c. it never has any serious issues (knock wood).

This is kind of embarrassing, but I’ll tell you anyway: I call my Escape “Baby.” I also call my dog Baby, any cute dogs I see on the street, dogs I see on TV, in magazines and on the beach. They’re all Baby to me.

I kept Baby in my mom’s garage, which was a total blessing. Her garage is clean and dry so I didn’t have to worry about tire rot or rusting brakes.

The day I resurrected Baby, I purchased a can of Seafoam Motor Treatment , as per my father’s advice, which controls moisture in the gas tank. I thought it’d be real smart to leave the car in storage for more than a year with an inch of gas in the tank. Lots of people scared me into thinking that I had a tank full of oily, sludgy sediment: a motor killing monster. One person even likened it to “car cancer.” So my fingers were definitely crossed when I poured the whole damn can into the tank. I used the Seafoam first, so that when I finally started the motor, it would pull through with the cancerous fuel.

Next, Roadside Assistance met me at the house to jumpstart the battery. I was almost as excited as if I’d just gotten a new car. To hear Baby’s motor start right up and purr quietly as if he’d never gone into hiding was so touching.

I made my mother come with me just in case I exploded for fun to get gas, a full tank of 93-Octane and a little air in the tires which were comically low. My mother was definitely scared. We drove it around (slowly) and kept it running for about a half hour. By the time I got it back home to Greenwich it’d been running for an hour.

Everyone told me that I’d be lucky to get it jumped the first time and that I’d certainly never get it to start again afterwards. Ha, ha, in your face, all you skeptics.

The next day I had an appointment at Mavis Tires to get all 4 tires replaced.  Baby started up quicker than I can say “wine” and we were on our way to Mavis.

The tires I had were in really horrible condition before I put the car into storage, but knowing that I would be doing so, I didn’t want to spend the money. This ended up being a good thing because that way I didn’t have 4 new tires getting air bubbles and flat spots and other tire nightmares.

Mavis recommended that I get new shocks in the back (which my mother generously gifted me). When I picked Baby up later, it was like driving a new car. What a difference rear shocks and tires make! No, seriously!

After Mavis and then the carwash, I thought it best to take Baby home and let him rest.

The following day, as if I hadn’t already spent enough money, I took it to  Stamford Ford for an oil change. They recommended I bite the bullet and replace the battery, which I did. They also told me it needed a list of other things such as… um… the uh, I forget. Must’ve repressed that $1,000 estimate from my memory.

All in all, it wasn’t such a nightmare. Having no trouble with the battery, I was able to get the car home and around, and operationally, everything else in the car is in good shape.

I had no issues with the gas that had been in the tank, probably also thanks to the 5-star car hotel it was stored in. About a week or two later, I had to have a coil pack replaced. The Escapes have a coil pack on each cylinder and since I have six cylinders, eventually I will have replaced 6. So far, I’m up to 3. But that’s a story for another day…

So what did I do next?

I drove it to Florida!

Talk about balls. I must’ve been high as a kite.

With Baby the dog in the backseat, I drove Baby the car to South Carolina and then Florida, back to South Carolina and then home.

P.S. I’ll never do that again.

Bless its heart, I didn’t have a single issue with the car for the whole trip. It barely used any oil, didn’t make any weird noises, break down or overheat. And this, my friends, is why I love my Ford.

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