The Cost of Driving a Clunker in a Car-Dependent City

A classic tale of throwing good money after bad.

The last ten years of my life bear the typical markings of early adulthood: a series of cross-state moves, some unremarkable jobs, romantic relationships that waxed and waned. My Chevy Cavalier has been a reliable companion throughout that time — a two-ton hunk of metal that I’ve come to equate with independence. This automotive relic is now approaching 16 years on the road and has about 162,500 miles under its belt. As a result of a dogged refusal to pay for cosmetic repairs, my car has collected a few scratches and dents over the years. She’s no great beauty, but I own her outright. Kelley Blue Book’s online value estimator tells me I can expect to get a whopping $177 for a trade-in.

This past July, I spent considerably more than that on repairs — a consequence of my deep lack of knowledge about cars and unshakable terror at the prospect of being stranded on the highway. I’m a total dunce when it comes to mechanical things, which fuels a kind of automotive hypochondria. I feel compelled to take my car to the shop whenever something seems a little off because I can’t bear the idea of having it sputter and die on the road. But apart from awakening powerful fears of highway abandonment, these little malfunctions — some imagined, others very real — remind me that someday, my car simply will not work anymore. I don’t have a ton of money saved up right now and will not be able to afford a regular car payment for some time. Having a personal vehicle is essential for my job, so I’m strongly motivated to keep my car in good working order. I spend 25–35 percent of my workweek out of the office, and often have to jump from one meeting or event to the next very quickly — a need that isn’t supported by the public transportation system in my city.

What follows is a list of car-related expenses that accumulated over a three-week period this past summer.

Week 1, Part 1: Whoops

Incurred Costs: $293.48 for a new wheel bearing

I had been putting off repairs for some time when things started to go sour with my car; I knew that work needed to be done, but was waiting on a windfall of cash from a job I’d finished before taking it in to get fixed. After forgetting to turn my headlights off in an absentminded rush to get to get to an appointment on time, my battery died. Fortunately, some friendly strangers saw me in distress and helped me jump my vehicle. Their efforts brought my battery back to life, but not my instrument cluster. Dashboard tools I’d come to take for granted — the speedometer, the gas gauge — were rendered useless. Although I could still travel from A to B, I didn’t know how fast I was going or if I had enough fuel to get to my destination.

This had happened before, and my handyman father had been able to fix the problem through some arcane process. I assumed that the gentlemen at National Franchise Repair Shop USA could do the same for me, and was disappointed when they insisted I needed a new instrument cluster. I thanked them for their assessment but declined the work, embarking on a long spell of driving with a set of broken gauges.

After this encounter, I started to notice a helicopter-like whirring that sped up and slowed down in tandem with my speed. Unwilling to return to National Franchise Repair Shop USA with my tail between my legs, I took my car to a mom-and-pop place with good Yelp reviews. The mechanic at Mom-and-Pop Shop diagnosed a loose wheel bearing on my front driver side tire and I forked over the cash to fix it. He stayed mum on the broken gauges, and I didn’t bring them up.

Week 1, Part 2: Take All My Money, I Guess

Incurred Costs: $952.40 to replace a stripped drain plug, fan, and A/C compressor

Averted Costs: $4 for bus fare to and from work courtesy of a free daily pass; $400 for a new oil pan

I was due for an oil change, but had forgotten to ask Mom-and-Pop Shop to take care of this while they were addressing my wheel bearing issue. Since they had already done me a solid (and were apparently willing to be complicit in ignoring my instrument cluster), I stopped by a few days later thinking I could check this bit of maintenance off my to-do list. After taking a look under the hood, Mom-and-Pop Shop told me that whoever had previously changed my oil (that’d be the good folks at National Franchise Repair Shop USA) had cross-threaded the drain plug, a small but costly misstep. I was told that attempting to change my oil might result in the need for a new oil pan, which would be a significant expense. There was a small chance they could use a slightly larger drain plug to replace the one that had been destroyed, but this couldn’t be guaranteed. The upshot was that I might have to pay $40 for an oil change, and I might have to pay ten times that. I told the mechanics to do what they needed to do, and I got lucky.

When I went to Mom-and-Pop Shop to pick up my car, I received some distressing news that undercut this earlier victory. Going seven months without an oil change (I know, I know) had put undue stress on my engine. This — in conjunction with a wonky A/C compressor — was causing my car to overheat (something I was blissfully unaware of due to my broken instrument cluster). The mechanic recommended replacing a number of expensive items, all of which I assumed were necessary to keep my car safe and street legal. The income I had been waiting on for a few months had finally made its way into my bank account, so I was feeling flush with money. Mom-and-Pop Shop gave me an estimate for the repairs, and I green-lit everything before walking home.

Had I taken the time to do a little preliminary Googling before committing to these purchases, I might have saved $400 by asking the mechanics to install a fan belt that could bypass my A/C compressor. This would have left me without air conditioning for the summer, but I’d have gladly driven around in a mobile sauna if it meant I could keep that money.

Week 2: The Freebie

Incurred Costs: $0, courtesy of Dad Kindness

Averted Costs: $300.00 for an unnecessary instrument cluster

I waited until I had time in my schedule to make a weekend trip to my parents’ house so that my dad could fix my instrument cluster. He did so in matter of minutes through some kind of technical wizardry, completely gratis.

I left for home feeling positively giddy about saving a few hundred dollars. This elation lasted until the last 5 minutes of my drive back, when my car started to decelerate unexpectedly and refused to respond to any pressure applied to the gas pedal. I pulled off to the side of the road and attempted to restart the car. Everything worked fine (Hallelujah!), but I had a sinking feeling that this incident was symptomatic of a larger underlying issue.

Week 3: Enough Already

Incurred Costs: $236.50

By now, I was a regular at Mom-and-Pop Shop. I told a mechanic what had happened with the gas pedal, and he mused on what might have caused the problem. I left my vehicle in his care and began walking home, convinced that the cost of fixing it would far exceed what little money I had left in my coffers. When I spoke to the mechanic on the phone, he explained that the issue was a fairly simple fix. Mom-and-Pop Shop would ensure my car’s computer system and mechanical system could talk to one another — thereby preventing me from being marooned on the highway — for approximately $230! This seemed like a blessing at the time, and I gladly dipped into my savings to cover this expense (something I am usually loath to do).

TOTAL INCURRED COSTS: $1,482.38

TOTAL AVERTED COSTS: $704.00

My story is a classic tale of good money following bad: I spent a king’s ransom on some needed repairs, only to find that more work was required. Feeling helpless and scared, I dutifully shelled out the money requested — primarily to justify the disgusting amount I’d already spent. I might have made some different decisions if it hadn’t been for the serendipitous timing of a hefty paycheck, which I’d earmarked for unspecified car maintenance long before I received it. Dropping a grand here and there on car repairs seems stupid in hindsight; it’s the equivalent of making several months of car payments over the course of a few weeks. Now that I’m on the other side of episode, I cringe thinking about how willing I was part with my money. As a consequence, I’m trying to educate myself about proper car care so that I can prevent this from happening in the future. I’ll probably never be the kind of person who can change her own oil, but I’ll hopefully be a more thoughtful consumer.

Meghan O’Brien lives in Ohio and works in local government. She is really nervous about that weird sound her car is making. Do you know a good mechanic?

This story is part of The Billfold’s Change Series.

Support The Billfold

The Billfold continues to exist thanks to support from our readers. Help us continue to do our work by making a monthly pledge on Patreon or a one-time-only contribution through PayPal.