How to Buy a Car: Part 3 - Test Drives

Never, under any circumstances, buy a car you haven't driven!  You need butt time in the seat to determine if you like the way the car drives and if it's comfortable.   

Let me give you an example why the test drive is so important:

Recently I was looking at four cars to replace my Nissan Pathfinder--the Nissan Altima, Chevy Malibu, Nissan Maxima, and Ford Fusion.  I had already done my research and those four cars were in my price range, offered the features I wanted, and had received good reviews from a number of automotive publications. 

The Altima was my top choice, until I drove it.  The steering was vague, and while I didn't mind the CVT transmission, it would drone under full throttle and didn't snap off crisp gear changes, even in the manual shift mode.  It also felt cheap inside, with cheap plastics, and I didn't like the orange font on the stereo or gauge cluster.  But what really bothered me was the noise level and ride quality.  It rode like a ten year old Honda Civic, which is okay… for a ten year old Honda Civic. 

I also drove the Maxima, which despite being built on the same platform as the Altima, was a revelation.  Many automotive journalists have bashed the Maxima for costing as much as an Infiniti without being as good to drive.  They argue that the Altima is a better car for a third the price.  But as a used vehicle, the Maxima is a screaming deal.  It has Nissan's 3.5 liter V6, which is one of the best engines of all time.  It's got immediate power and will go from 50-90 miles an hour faster than you can say, "Scotty, I need warp speed now!" 

But the Maxima also suffers from the same Jack o' Lantern display as the Altima.  And even though the ride was sublime until you gave it the beans, it just didn't feel quite right to me.  I can't explain it, but I just didn't love the car like I wanted to. 

I think part of the reason was because I drove the Chevy Malibu and Ford Fusion.  I know it sounds like I'm comparing cream to creme brulee', but hear me out--both the Malibu and Fusion nail the right balance of ride and handling for the midsize car segment.  They also offer more features and nicer interiors than the Maxima.  Neither car will show its taillights to a BMW 3 Series, but they aren't supposed to.  You won't take a Malibu or Fusion to Laguna Seca.  You also wouldn't take a Maxima to Laguna Seca, although Nissan's marking to position it as the "four door sports car" make you think you should want to. 

The last car I drove was the Ford Fusion with a V6.  It was almost as fun to drive as the Maxima, but it had a nicer interior and more features.  In my everyday slog to work, those things are more important.  A quiet ride, heated seats, Bluetooth connectivity to my phone, are more enjoyable than a snarling exhaust note, track tuned suspension, and whippet handling, when I'm commuting in stop and go traffic. 

If I hadn't driven those four cars, I'd have picked the Altima and never looked back.  Instead, I ended up picking the Fusion.  I liked the looks, and the interior.  It felt like a quality car and checked all my boxes.  I started looking for a used one with leather and a V6.  I found several on the internet within 30 miles of my house, including one in one of my top colors.  And on a cold, damp November Saturday, I headed for a Ford dealer in Raytown to see a man about a Fusion. 

But things didn't go exactly as planned...  

In Praise of the Beater

Henry David Thoreau wrote about the futility of acquiring material wealth. If he were alive today, his argument would apply to cars as well. Thoreau would be appalled with our car culture, shunning it for public transportation. But if he had to drive, I’m sure he would own a beater.

A beater is the car equivalent of a horse at a glue factory. Its value fluctuates depending on how much gas is in the tank. Usually people who drive beaters are a flat tire away from permanent bus ridership. But not always. Sometimes a person drives a beater because they like the car too much to part with it. Or a person may view car payments with the same disdain Thoreau had for paying taxes. Aspiring race car drivers or people restoring a car drive beaters so they can spend money on their other car. Celebrities sometimes drive beaters to blend in anonymously. Sometimes the person driving the car in front of you, with a bumper sticker that says “My other car is a Porsche,” really does own a Porsche.

Most of the cars I owned were beaters. My hand-me-down Olds Cutlass and the VW Thing qualify. I also had a Buick Century which was an especially good beater; one I took for granted until I sold it. The Buick was roomy, comfortable, the air conditioning worked and it got great gas mileage. It wore peeling paint, a GM factory option at the time, and no hubcaps. When I drove it, traffic parted for me like I was Moses at the Red Sea.

A few years ago, the Buick began ringing up large repair bills. I decided I’d had enough and bought a brand new Hyundai Sonata. The Sonata was a great car. I liked the styling, which was criticized for looking like a funky Korean Jaguar, and liked rowing the Porsche licensed Tiptronic gearbox. Compared to the Buick, the Sonata was a joy to drive and in two years of ownership, nothing ever went wrong.

After a while, driving a new car began to wear on me. At work, I parked on the street downtown and mysterious scuffs would appear. My kids spilled milk and Teddy Grahams in the backseat. I realized I was leading a life of quiet desperation and car payments, so I put the Sonata up for sale and began looking for another beater.

I looked at Hondas and Toyotas, but the ones in my price range were shot to hell or looked like rejects from “The Fast and the Furious”. I looked at GM cars, but couldn’t bring myself to own another wobbly land yacht. One day I stumbled across a ten year-old Infiniti I30 with less than a hundred thousand miles on it. I remembered it was the same basic car as the Nissan Maxima but better looking. Curious to why it was in my price range, I called the owner who informed me it had slight hail damage. Two hours later, I brought it home.

The Infiniti is too nice to be described as a beater. Everything works and I wouldn’t hesitate to drive it on a two thousand mile road trip. It’s more rewarding to drive than the Sonata and has leather seats and a sunroof. I don’t mind parking on the streets or in the sun. I don’t cringe anymore when I hear, “Uh oh, Daddy! I spilled!”. And even though it’s black, I don’t feel the insatiable need to keep it washed. But it does clean up well and I’m not ashamed to take my wife out in public in it.

For me the Infiniti is the best of both worlds. Thoreau would not approve. But he might appreciate it, if he knew it saved me from the quiet desperation of car payments.