Recently I was gifted a new car (1997 Nissan Pathfinder) by my step-mom’s family to replace my ever-faithful 1996 Jeep Cherokee Sport. The Jeep was my first car and a perfect first car at that; it was nice enough to stay running (most of the time) and shitty enough not to have to constantly worry about every little bump and scrape (and quicksand trap…).

It also had 4-wheel-drive (courtesy of the rock-solid NP231 transfer case) and a beefy straight-6 motor… which lent itself not only to really bad gas mileage and frequent fill-ups, but also to a respectable amount of torque and offroading abilities. I also could burn anybody off the starting line… until about the 35-40 MPH mark. And when shifting into the all-balls, crawl-licious 2.72:1 low range, the entire Jeep would lurch from the drive shafts slamming into gear and rob the planet of just a little bit of angular momentum… reminding me of what a powerful force I wielded. And who could forget nerdgasmic addition of a manual shifting circuit I built by hacking the shift-control computer.

Needless to say… I had a badass time with that piece. From offroading in remote forests in Rockwall and Rowlett, to throwing mud around and doing pointless donuts in random fields… to just driving all over the damn place in it… I loved it.

Unfortunately, I think the end of it’s glory days is in site. There’s really no reason to have two cars in college, especially when the Pathfinder is in MUCH better condition than the Jeep: The Jeep’s brakes are all but dead, there’s a loud leak from a crack in the exhaust manifold, the rear differential leaks sometimes, the AC compressor seizes when the car isn’t moving, the tint is molting off the windows, and there are tons of bumps, scratches, and broken shit on both the inside and out. There’s even a gaping wound with wires and connectors grotesquely visible where a stereo ought to be.

I never realized what a piece of junk it was until I drove it for the first time in about a month the other day. The first thing I noticed was that it felt so much more powerful than the Pathfinder… a small price to pay for better gas mileage I suppose. It also felt like it was about to fall apart… it was so loud, creaking, rattling, and old feeling. I loved it though… and felt a sense of betrayal when I reached for the shifter and missed… having become accustomed to where everything was in the Pathfinder.

It felt like the last time I would ever drive it…

I took the long route around town to where I was going, and peeled out whenever I had a chance. Using the manual shifter, I would floor it at green lights and let the familiar sensation of acceleration and a couple hundred horses wash over me. Do I really have to sell it?

I’ve always had a strong attachment to this jeep… maybe just because it was my first car and all. There’s just a lot of good memories with that beast, and it will hard to let go. Of course, the cool $K-spot or so will be nice though.

I feel like I’ll act like the concerned dog breeder selling puppies: ensuring that the new owner will love and cherish it just as I did. I don’t want this to be some old granny’s shuttle to happy-hour bingo and senior-citizen movie nights; I want it to go to somebody that will let the true spirit of the Jeep out where it belongs… in the dirt, in the mud… and in the wild.

So I guess this is goodbye for you and me, Jeep… we had a good run together. I hope that where you’re going, you can spend your last years doing what you love to do best; I only hope your new owner can give you things you could only dream of when you were with me. Maybe that lift kit we would always talk about… the after-market exhaust… a new windshield even?

Don’t think the Pathfinder is replacing you– no car could do that… especially a Nissan. There will always be a bright-blue Cherokee-sized hole in my heart that no other vehicle could fill. It’s been great.

So drive on Jeep… and don’t look back.