absent.canadian

I realized this morning that I’ve been driving for over half of my life.

In truth, I’ve been driving for a lot longer than that.  I’m not sure what was the first motor vehicle to fall under my control, but I remember riding a motorcycle for the first time when I was about 11.

In terms of being a licensed driver, though, it wasn’t long after my 16th birthday that I passed the Ontario Ministry of Transportation’s test to become a licensed driver.  That following spring, I received my motorcycle endorsement … and the roads have never been the same!  I still have my first learners permit; a thin fragment of paper with my spindly childhood handwriting and well-worn creases.

Driving was one of my biggest rites of passage.  As any farm-kid knows, distances in rural areas are prohibitively long.  I had friends at my high school that were a 35 minute drive from my parents’ house.  Adding further to this was the inconvenience of the area code 905/705 boundary (a mere 200 metres up the road from my parents’ farm), and you can imagine why driving was a big deal for me.

One of my most vivid “moments in time” as a teenager was my 15th birthday.  I was involved in a local 4-H plowing competition and was lamenting the entire year I’d have to wait before I could get my license.  I stared up at the blue, cloudless sky for a few minutes and contemplated what it would be like to wait for another whole year; especially when kids in my grade who had the good fortune of a January birthday would be driving a full 8 months before I would.  It hardly seemed fair.

Another grand memory was my first drive to school alone.  My mother kindly lent me her car since I had band practice after school, and driving myself would alleviate the need for her to pick me up.  I carefully did the 25 minute drive from Uxbridge to Cannington, pulled gently into the parking spot … and got out to hear the dreaded “hissing” sound of a rapidly-flattening tire.

This would be the first of many, many flat tires.

It was also the beginning of a long and illustrious driving career that (I hope) is far from over.  It would see the simple pleasures of my parents’ Ford F150 farm truck and the strains of my quasi-restoration-project 1961 Ford Falcon.  It enjoyed no less than four motorcycles, five Volkswagens, a marriage, a divorce, two cross-country moves and countness drives across the country, and my best estimate of about 650,000 kilometres (400,000 miles) by yours truly.

On the heels of my last useless post about cars, I thought I’d be a bit more constructive and offer some thoughts on how to make a car last.

I have some experience in this department.  My 1990 Volkswagen Golf Diesel lasted over 250,000 miles.  My 1986 Scirocco gave 150,000 miles of faithful and reliable service, and the Mercedes I currently own has over 100,000 miles on the clock (and is still quiet, tight and wickedly reliable).  Every car I’ve ever sold has been in excellent condition; with the possible exception of the Scirocco, they are all still providing good service.

Without further adieu: my top-12 list of things you can do to make your car last longer.

1. Read the Owners Manual.  It’s baffling to many people that their car comes with a manual.  And I’m willing to bet that in a group of 50 car owners, at least 40 have never cracked their manual open.  If nothing else, you’ll learn about features you didn’t know your car had … for instance: if you own a 1981 Volkswagen Scirocco, did you know that the Oxygen Sensor Light (“OXS”) will come on every 30,000 miles, reminding you to to have your vehicle’s emission control system serviced?  It’s not a cause for panic – just a reminder.  And that brings me to my second point …

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