Spirulina, The Holler Hopper
Ode to a Subaru Impreza, my first of many Subarus
(Updated: Originally published in the September 2012 issue of Two-Lane Livin’ Magazine)
Most country folk are painfully aware that regular travel along these two-lane roads regularly is hard on a vehicle. Twists and turns wear tread off the tires; deer and other wildlife can do some serious damage; wet roads, snow, and ice can be life-threatening. Many households have at least one four-wheel drive, if not an all-wheel drive, just for winters.
Magazine delivery is additionally hard on a vehicle. Two-lane roads plus a heavy, heavy load. Black ink smudges everywhere, and this paper dust created from the perforated cuts at the papers’ edges. We ruined a fine vehicle or two running them on our magazine delivery before we came to the system, and the vehicles, we have today.
In fact, we blew the motor in our main 4-wheel drive one year, and Frank and I had to share a vehicle for several months - - an affront to the independent nature in each of us. We were saving money for a new motor (or new vehicle), to get us back to two-car par when a friend told us about a dependable little Subaru he knew about for sale. I would have spent just about anything to not have to share a vehicle anymore, but we had to stick to our budget. But this filthy dirty, beat-up Subaru Impreza was priced cheap and would allow us to save longer to get the motor (or vehicle) we really wanted.
We saw it for the first time in the evening, after dark. There were obvious dents in pretty much every panel. The grill was gone, and the hood held closed by a worn leather belt. There were butterfly stickers on the rearview mirror and various other locations. Tobacco spit stains ran down the inside of the driver’s side door. The stereo and cupholders were gone, leaving a big gaping hole in the dashboard where those two pieces of the puzzle should have been.
We brought it home anyway.
We had permission to drive it a bit before deciding, and I was thrilled at the concept of driving independently again.
The next morning I looked down on it from the front porch above. There was even a dent on the roof.
That day, we cleaned her. Drug the carpet out, hooked the garden hose up to the hot water tank, and sprayed and scrubbed everything we could. We found a set of keys, nearly $20 in change, and the original owner’s manual, with receipts for maintenance, underneath the spare tire. And that is when I began to learn her story.
I knew both previous owners.
The party girl who owned it before us collects butterflies, as I do, and was dating the guy who was the best man at our wedding. An entertaining soul who loves to live life to the fullest, she is the one to incur all the dents and dings.
She had the car only a few years, but those were rough years!
Before that, however, the car was owned by one of the kindest, sweetest artists I have ever met. In fact, for many years, I have secretly believed that she is not a human at all, but a fairie that lives among us. I realized, that in its lifetime, the car had chauffeured a butterfly and bonded with a fairy.
I renewed my scrubbing, bought several cans of touch-up spray paint, and told Frank we were buying the car because it had “good karma.”
Frank, after muttering that you don’t buy a car on karma, ordered these metal pin/clasp thingies like they use on race cars to hold the hood down - and removed the need for the leather belt. I bought a Pioneer stereo with Bluetooth and a USB port. Add in the new tires, and we’d doubled the value of the car.
We declared it a delivery vehicle, named it the “holler hopper,” paid the dealer who used it for running errands, and put her on the road.
Months later, I bumped into the fairie at the grocery store. I told her I had her car.
“Spirulina?” She asked with great interest. “How is she?”
“Well, she’s a little beat up, but she’s a great delivery vehicle,” I responded.
The truth of the matter was though, she was not just a delivery vehicle anymore. Spirulina had become my everyday car. A small standard shift, she was much more fun to drive along curvy roads than our big GMC Jimmy.
And the new stereo was much better than the AM/FM in our Chevy S10. And I became liberated by the knowledge that a new dent wouldn’t matter, that I had all-wheel drive - all the time.
I didn’t have to crawl slowly along gravel roads to protect the paint. I didn’t have to think twice about crossing creeks or driving through a field to get around a fallen tree in the road. As long as I remembered to (have Frank) check the oil regularly, that beat-up Subaru got me where I needed to go. She was only for the 2-lanes though, I didn’t drive her on the interstate.
At some point, I got it in my mind that Spirulina could make it to 300,000 miles. At times, when we likely should have taken a better-looking vehicle, I noted, “Let’s take the Subaru.”
She delivered thousands upon thousands of copies of Two-Lane Livin’ Magazine throughout central West Virginia. She visited farmer’s markets across five counties, to trainings and conferences, to parties and luncheons. And she still kept rollin’ along.
But, as she neared 300,000 miles, it became more and more difficult to find third gear. Eventually, third gear just… evaporated. I found another Subaru.
I sold Spirulina for the same price I paid for her to a neighbor down the road. The first thing he did was drive it from West Virginia to California — without third gear.
And Spirulina made it beyond 300,000 miles, across the country and back. Not long after that, the entire transmission succumbed to old age, and Spirulina was added to the metal graveyard in my neighbor’s yard.
She was nothing to look at, but plenty to brag about, and so much fun to drive. We meant to drive her for about three months, but I drove her for three years.
And I have been driving Subarus ever since.