Nothing compares to you

After driving through 45 states, and even sporting DC plates with my trusty Volvo, Henrietta, I bought a new car. I didn't hit 300,000 but she started to fall apart quickly, so the time had come. The Honda dealership threw out the insult of $100 a trade-in and as much as I hate to admit it, I would rather sell her for scrap than suffer that. For now she sits plateless in my yard. I already miss her horn and all the easy moves my hands never had to think about. I started driving Henrietta at 40,000, I drove from Charlottesville, Va. to Carlsbad, New Mexico in 29 hours, almost drove off cliffs at Goosenecks State Park, Utah and from the slopes of Mt. Sneffels, Colorado. I drove into a ditch in Shenandoah National Park and into a snowbank in Boyne Highlands, Mich., slid down icy hills in DC, Portland, Maine, Niagara Falls, NY and roughed up the fender on Autherine Lucy's basketball goal (can any other civil rights scholar claim that?). The car was searched in Shenandoah National Park in 1996, in Niagara Falls Air Base on Sept. 2001, and in Sault St. Marie in May 2004 (they didn't find anything). There was also the time mechanic Antoine Lutz drove me and two Barredas up a mountain to test the tran only to have it blow, forcing us to coast down the slope across a state highway, and into the Barreda's farmyard.



I have joined Team Honda. I hope the mileage treats me right.