My 2000 Chevy Tracker is finally gone. I remember doing car shopping research in 2000 when I started my first career after grad school. I was young, married, no kids, and I wanted a 4wd for winter trips back to Michigan. But I also needed decent gas mileage for the daily commute across metro Cleveland.
I went to the nearest Chevy dealer, Andy Chevrolet. This car was still sitting on the delivery truck, in the process of being unloaded onto the dealership lot. It had everything I thought I needed: 4wd, A/C, cruise, CD, and the slightly larger 2.0 liter engine. I wanted it, and the sales guy knew it. I ended up paying full sticker and I was thrilled.
I took it up to Michigan on our next visit home. Brother Andy immediately suggested we go off roading. We managed to find some interesting 2 tracks out near Sleeping Bear, and actually broke the passenger side mirror completely off. I later fixed this with a hot glue gun. It is still held tight as of yesterday. Andy was so impressed with the headroom in the convertible, he bought a similar one for his next car.
The Tracker moved with us to SE Michigan when I started working at the University of Michigan.
When brother Tim needed a new car, he offered to take over payments on it. I was upside-down on the loan, and he really liked the car. He paid it off and drove it for a few years until he was ready for a more family-friendly vehicle. But the dealer would only offer him a couple hundred dollars for it, so he asked if I could give it a loving home for it's final days. It no longer had Reverse, one of the door handles was broken off, and the back window was duct taped (soft top). It had been in a couple minor accidents. Otherwise, it still ran great.
I drove it regularly when the weather was nice -- rarely with the top fully zipped on. It's a very fun car, but for some reason, my 11 year old son seemed to be embarrassed to ride in it. Once, he asked me not to pick him up from practice in it anymore. I still did, on occasion. In winters, I would park it next to the garage and let the snow bury it. Each spring, I would pump up the tires and it always started on the first try. Otherwise, it still ran great.
That is a picture of my son as a toddler taped over the "Check Engine" light. Uncle Tim put that on when he owned it.
Eventually, all the door handles broke off. The back window crumbled and was discarded. Nearly all the tires were now filled with fix-a-flat at different occasions. The full-sized spare tire was eventually needed to replace a severely damaged tire. I bought a little inner tube to put on the back so I could continue to display my Red Wings tire cover on the spare rim. Otherwise, it still ran great.
In recent months, I started to notice what appeared to be oil in small puddles under the tracker in the garage. I placed a tarp and some newspapers under it to keep the garage floor clean. Otherwise, it still ran great... but I was in the market for a replacement to our minivan, and the dealership down the road was offering one of those push-pull-tow minimum trade-in deals. So on Monday this week, I saw a couple cars I was interested in, and I drove the minivan in for an appraisal. I traded the minivan and tracker for a nice rebate on a used sedan. The kids helped me clean out the minivan and move all their stuff into the new car. I signed over the two titles and agreed to bring the Tracker in on Tuesday, since it was the end of the day. They did not seem to be in a hurry to get it.
Yesterday afternoon, I told my 11 year old we were taking one last ride in the Tracker to deliver it. I let him man the brakes from the drivers seat as I pushed it backwards out of the garage onto the sloping driveway. I noticed that the puddle of "oil" on the tarp was much larger than previous. Otherwise, it still ran great.
We were on our way. It was only about a mile to the dealership. As we started to descend a rather large hill with a stoplight at the bottom, I noticed that the brake was going straight to the floor, and wasn't slowing the vehicle. It was about this point that it dawned on me that the fluid puddled up on the tarp on the floor of my garage was most likely brake fluid, not engine oil.
My son asked what to do, and I suggested calmly that he hang on to something. He took a firm grip on the you-know-what handle above his door. I grabbed the parking brake and optimistically started to feather it into engagement. I wasn't sure it would work. You see... a few winters ago, the parking brake was on all winter, and would not disengage in the spring. A tow truck driver helped me get it unstuck, but I never used it again until now.
As we approached the previously-mentioned stoplight at the bottom of the intersection, I realized that my feather-the-parking-brake method was not going to stop us in time. So I stopped the feathering and fully engaged the e-brake, locking the rear-right side tire, which immediately spun the tracker 180 degrees and, most importantly, STOPPED us. Once we realized there was no injuries or damage, my son and I let out a "Woo hoo!" I gave a thumbs up to the nice lady who had stopped to see if we were all right, and worked the Tracker back onto the roadway. At this point, it was closer to the dealership than home. We were going for it.
Flashing hazards on, we muddled down the edge of South Airport Road, stopping frequently to let cars pass. The entire time we were both silently hoping to avoid a repeat of the cop-style power turn. We slowly rolled into the dealership, parking in the first available spot. We handed off the keys with a warning, said our goodbyes to the Tracker, and caught a shuttle ride home.
Otherwise, it still ran great.
