1998-2008 – My Honda CR-V

My first automatic car, the Honda CR-V was probably my favorite car, although I loved my next one too, which I had to part from in 2016 when I returned to Malta. It was the first time I also had to use studded tires when I eventually went to Oregon. Studded tires had to be used between November 1 and April 1, to help with driving in the snow and on packed ice. The tires had a series of tiny nails all around the rubber and it helped a lot with traction.  And believe me, I drove through a lot of snow and ice, but was always careful and cautious, especially in long distances, which were common for me. Every weekend for the first three years, I had to drive 150 miles to reach two mission churches, with only a handful of people in attendance. When I was in the Cathedral of Baker City, I had a 110-mile round-trip every weekend, and I missed only once in 8 years. It was Christmas Day, and the parishioners called me to tell me they had so much snow that they could not even get out of their homes. Of course, the Honda also made a solitary trip from New York to Oregon as I had to ship all my boxes in a container as well as the car on a trailer. It was so good to see her arrive safely, just a few days after my own arrival. But I truly enjoyed driving the Honda, with its jeep-like appearance, giving you a steady control on the road. I had only one sad event which turned out good. It was May 3, 2007. I was in Lakeview, close to the California border visiting some friends I had married a year earlier and was encouraged to drive up a mountain and come down the other side. It was a scenic drive and I had a feast with my camera as I was climbing up there. I was told there could be a little snow left at the peak. And sure enough I was stuck in the deep snow, very close to a precipice. Trying to restart my car was useless as it kept spinning and turning closer to the edge of the precipice. Digging some snow from around the wheels did not help either. My only option was to start walking down the mountain and hopefully ask for help. It was a 10-mile walk, thankfully all downhill, and the people I was staying with brought me back up to my car and pulled it out safely, no damage done. Incidentally, the place where I was stuck was between three peaks, called Razorback Ridge, Cougar Peak, and Grizzly Peak. Thank God I did not encounter any grizzly bears or cougars or even razorbacks. A young parishioner died in 2008, and she left me her car, a big jeep. So I traded my Honda and this jeep for another second-hand car, which was in mint condition. Tomorrow I’ll share my recollections of my last American car.