RTEnthusiast
03-16-2011, 09:30 PM
A friend basically wrote a testimonial to the Mustang he just traded in, and it made me so emotional I had to express how I truly feel about my Intrepid in words:
In January of 2010, my Intrepid R/T became no longer mine.
I know it ought not to be such a terribly big deal. I owned the car for five years, which is a good run, and it’s not like I didn’t know that our time together would end at some point. And after all, it is just a car. A bunch of metal and plastic and glass and leatherette that all come together into shape. It’s just a machine, or a hunk of metal.
Or is it?
This car has been with me through so many special moments. It was there when I first discovered the joy of horsepower. It was the car that took me to high school. It moved me into the transition to university. It was there when I got my first speeding ticket. It took me on my first date. It was there when I met the girl who changed my life forever. We had wins together. We had losses. We even had arguments (but not many).
Sitting here, as my car sits miles away in the parking lot of a sleazy car dealership, I have a feeling that I’ll never drive it again. I went through all my lasts with it. The last time I’ll get into the car. The last time I’ll get out. The last time I’ll skip MP3 tracks. The last time it will ever bring me home safely.
We tore through back roads, we clipped straight apexes, we even flew a few times. We crossed streams. When the Erindale River flooded, we drove up and down the banks, letting the front tires struggle for grip, spitting mud and clay all over the place, and loving every minute of it.
This car was there for me when I was angry, sad, or when I needed comfort. All it ever asked of me was a little bit of gas and a wash every once in a while. It was more than any car could be; it was my family.
I understand that an Intrepid R/T is not a car that kids doodle in their notebooks. I know it will never really be an object of lust. No one daydreams about a garage full of Intrepid R/Ts. But this sport sedan with its big V6, four-speed automatic, and front wheel drive, was a blast every time I pushed it. It always worked as hard as I wanted it to. It was a sports car when I pushed. It was a sedate cruiser when I didn’t.
Thinking about the fact that it’s gone now, I feel a deep sense of loss. This car wasn’t my first. But it was the first car I truly loved. I’ll never be as attached to any other car, or perhaps, any other material object, as I am to this one.
This car may not be anything to anyone, but it really is everything to me.
Intrepid, The Beast, Sarkarmobile, Pimpmobile, you will be truly and sorely missed. I hope our paths cross again.
http://img527.imageshack.us/img527/7231/dsc03337cav0.jpg
http://img355.imageshack.us/img355/299/dsc00032pm3.jpg
http://img514.imageshack.us/img514/1117/dsc04061uz9.jpg
http://img410.imageshack.us/img410/8029/dsc03340zk9.jpg
http://img529.imageshack.us/img529/9530/dsc03294eg9.jpg
http://img12.imageshack.us/img12/8615/dsc04761d.jpg
http://img822.imageshack.us/img822/6873/dsc07227small.jpg
http://img818.imageshack.us/img818/5138/img0129j.jpg
In January of 2010, my Intrepid R/T became no longer mine.
I know it ought not to be such a terribly big deal. I owned the car for five years, which is a good run, and it’s not like I didn’t know that our time together would end at some point. And after all, it is just a car. A bunch of metal and plastic and glass and leatherette that all come together into shape. It’s just a machine, or a hunk of metal.
Or is it?
This car has been with me through so many special moments. It was there when I first discovered the joy of horsepower. It was the car that took me to high school. It moved me into the transition to university. It was there when I got my first speeding ticket. It took me on my first date. It was there when I met the girl who changed my life forever. We had wins together. We had losses. We even had arguments (but not many).
Sitting here, as my car sits miles away in the parking lot of a sleazy car dealership, I have a feeling that I’ll never drive it again. I went through all my lasts with it. The last time I’ll get into the car. The last time I’ll get out. The last time I’ll skip MP3 tracks. The last time it will ever bring me home safely.
We tore through back roads, we clipped straight apexes, we even flew a few times. We crossed streams. When the Erindale River flooded, we drove up and down the banks, letting the front tires struggle for grip, spitting mud and clay all over the place, and loving every minute of it.
This car was there for me when I was angry, sad, or when I needed comfort. All it ever asked of me was a little bit of gas and a wash every once in a while. It was more than any car could be; it was my family.
I understand that an Intrepid R/T is not a car that kids doodle in their notebooks. I know it will never really be an object of lust. No one daydreams about a garage full of Intrepid R/Ts. But this sport sedan with its big V6, four-speed automatic, and front wheel drive, was a blast every time I pushed it. It always worked as hard as I wanted it to. It was a sports car when I pushed. It was a sedate cruiser when I didn’t.
Thinking about the fact that it’s gone now, I feel a deep sense of loss. This car wasn’t my first. But it was the first car I truly loved. I’ll never be as attached to any other car, or perhaps, any other material object, as I am to this one.
This car may not be anything to anyone, but it really is everything to me.
Intrepid, The Beast, Sarkarmobile, Pimpmobile, you will be truly and sorely missed. I hope our paths cross again.
http://img527.imageshack.us/img527/7231/dsc03337cav0.jpg
http://img355.imageshack.us/img355/299/dsc00032pm3.jpg
http://img514.imageshack.us/img514/1117/dsc04061uz9.jpg
http://img410.imageshack.us/img410/8029/dsc03340zk9.jpg
http://img529.imageshack.us/img529/9530/dsc03294eg9.jpg
http://img12.imageshack.us/img12/8615/dsc04761d.jpg
http://img822.imageshack.us/img822/6873/dsc07227small.jpg
http://img818.imageshack.us/img818/5138/img0129j.jpg