If you have read some of my most recent posts, you know that I have been writing about my exploits and experiences after arriving at Fort Huachuca, Arizona, and being assigned to the Joint Interoperability Test Center (JITC) at Fort Huachuca. My most recent post talked about my first ever Coues white tail deer hunt in the Thunder Mountains, and the fact that my red Chevy van could not climb. Normally, that would not be an insurmountable problem. However, when you’re living on a plateau at an altitude of between 4600 feet and 5300 feet nestled up against a range of mountains, that becomes a big problem. Back in the swamps of Virginia in the Tidewater area, not a problem. On the plains east and central North Dakota, not a problem. However, on a plateau at an altitude of between 4600 feet and 5300 feet nestled up against a range of mountains, big problem. I learned that relatively quickly during my first deer hunting season at Fort Huachuca. Thus, I needed to change my mode of transportation. I needed something that could climb like a deer or a Billy goat. I also needed something that was also relatively fuel-efficient. Notice I said “relatively” fuel-efficient. I wasn’t expecting a vehicle with great fuel efficiency because vehicles that can climb generally are not very fuel-efficient. I just needed something that was easier on my wallet than my red Chevy van had been. Don’t get me wrong. That red Chevy van had been a great vehicle for many years. It was equipped with a high-altitude shift kit on the transmission and a high-altitude carburetor so that it could accelerate going over mountain passes in the Rocky Mountains. That was great when you were driving on paved roads, but that sucker drank some serious petroleum. And when I say that it drank some serious petroleum I mean that you could watch the needle on the gas gauge dropping from full to empty. When I bought that vehicle brand-new, the estimated highway gas mileage was thirteen miles to the gallon. I was damn lucky if it ever made that much. Its EPA estimated city gas mileage was eleven miles to the gallon. That was closer to reality for the highway. I think whoever printed the sticker they put in the window was smoking something the day they printed the sticker. The dude was probably as high as a kite. I don’t know if I mentioned it in one of my previous posts, but I bought that red Chevy van in Denver, Colorado. Colorado is known for its weed smoking and toking. It was known for its weed smoking even way back when I bought that Chevy van, even way before weed was legal in that state. Now I’m not saying that the EPA numbers got inflated because the dude was high as a kite, but it sure as hell seemed that way. As a result, when I went to buy my new vehicle, I wanted it to have better fuel efficiency than my red Chevy van. Makes sense. Right? Of course it does. Unless of course your first name happens to be Arnie and you’re a multimillionaire ex-governor/movie star. Then maybe you don’t give a shit how much the gas costs or what kind of fuel-efficiency your vehicle has. But us rather poor folks do give a shit how much the gas costs. As a result, I did some research on various four-wheel-drive vehicles and came up with a short list of two or three to check out. I went to dealerships in Sierra Vista, but I quickly learned that I had to pay a premium price in order to purchase a vehicle in Sierra Vista because I had to pay for the privilege of being in the military living in Sierra Vista. The dealers all added a dealer markup on top of the MSRP (Manufacturer’s Suggested Retail Price). Now if I was living in a northern tier state where they put in undercoating on the vehicle to protect it from rust as a result of salting the roads during the winter, I could see paying a dealer markup. But in Arizona? The dealers didn’t do Jack. They may have hosed the dirt off the vehicle before they sold it and some dealers may have even filled the tank with gas, but that’s about it. There was no dealer preparation. Thus, there should have been no dealer markup. Especially not between three to five thousand dollars markup. That was highway robbery. I think those crooks watched too many wild West TV shows about the bad old days in Arizona. They were just trying to line their pockets with pure profit. Then, to add insult to injury, they wanted to give me low Kelley Blue Book trading value for my red Chevy van. I knew it was worth more than that. Cuz it had never been in any accidents and it was in excellent condition and it had low miles for its age. My family and I jumped in my red Chevy van and drove to Tucson. We checked out the dealers in Tucson. I narrowed down the choice to a Jeep Wrangler five-speed manual transmission. But I really had a specific color in mind. One dealer had the color I wanted and another dealer offered me a better deal, but all they had in stock were in orange and a red Wrangler. I really wanted a green Wrangler. I went to the first dealer and started haggling with him and told him that the second dealer had two jeeps in stock that were not the color I was looking for, but that he was willing to give me a better offer. I told him I really wanted that green one but he was going to have to make me a better offer in order to get a sale. I knew where he was splitting hairs with me. He didn’t want to come up too high on the Kelley Blue Book value for my red Chevy van. But after his manager looked at the van and all of the documentation that I had on the van, we made a deal. The dealer told me that the Jeep would be ready for me to pick-up the next day. I told him that I would be back with the red Chevy van and I would have all of my junk cleared out of it. The next day when I was driving back to Tucson in my red Chevy van. I was on my last trip with that red Chevy van. That van had served me and my family very well for over sixteen years. Now it was time to say goodbye. When I was only one mile away from the dealership, a big rig truck in front of me threw up a rock that hit my windshield. In all of the years that I had owned that red Chevy van, the only problem that I had ever had with it was that the wiring shorted out in the right headlight while the vehicle was still under warranty. Other than that, I had never had any problems with that van during the entire time I had owned it. I guess that van must have known that I was parting company with it because the windshield cracked when that rock hit it from the driver side all the way across to the passenger side. I panicked because I thought that my deal with the Jeep dealership would be null and void because that windshield had been cracked. Oops! But it wasn’t my fault. When I got to the dealership, I went to tell the people inside about the windshield, but they didn’t even seem to care. They took the keys from me and handed me the keys to the Jeep. I herded my family into the Jeep. And we got the hell out of Dodge before anybody there noticed that the windshield in the red Chevy van was broken. We made a clean getaway with no exercises in futility.
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