The Greenie's Dilemma: Game Over

It has been right at one year since I bought my truck; my big, beautiful, carbon-spewing tank of a truck.

She was good to me. I'll not soon forget her.

Today the greenie in me won the war. It's finally over.

For years I fantasized about having a Jeep Wrangler. For years I fantasized about a Ford Super Duty. These fantasies go way back to a time long before I could afford either - to a time long before I cared about gas mileage or had the slightest inkling that cars might be bad for the environment. As I greened over the years, my one big sticking point was the automobile. Americans love their cars, and I grew up in a family where your vehicle was most definitely a status symbol as well as a tool for getting things done. I grew up in a state where it was an unwritten - if not unspoken - law that men drive trucks, and the bigger the better. When I reached a point in my life that it was feasible, I bought a Wrangler. I loved it. But after two years the honeymoon was over and I started salivating for the big one, the ultimate prize: The Ford Super Duty. And so it came to be.

But neither the Jeep nor the Super Duty (most especially the Super Duty) came without a high mental price. I agonized over the Jeep purchase a little, but I really agonized over the Super Duty. See, there are two people in my head: a Texan who loves cowboy hats, big ass trucks and country music, and a super green tree-hugging liberal willing to go to pretty extreme lengths to reduce his negative impact on the world. They don't always see eye to eye, and that's when I'm in agony as those two jerks tear me apart.

I had to taste what it felt like to have a Super Duty, the ultimate automotive wet dream for any cowboy, redneck or proud Texas dude. That guy in my head loved seeing his Super Duty in the distance, parked in the dirt, as he rode horses or bucked hay. He loved the roar of the engine. He loved the respect he got on the road. He loved that fleeting feeling, that silly fantasy of what it might feel like to be a "real" modern day cowboy, whatever that is. And all the while, the tree-hugger's irate rantings and irrefutable logic were pounding in my head.

But then I spent a day shoeing horses, something that both the cowboy and the tree-hugger could agree on, and everything changed. Somehow I saw my life in a new light. I still don't know what happened but there was a major shift of perspective and change in priorities. Maybe I got kicked in the head and can't remember. Maybe the cowboy and the tree-hugger got in bed together. Whatever it was I'm glad it happened. I feel a huge sense of relief and fulfillment and peace with things that, for a long time, felt as if they were tearing me apart. It's a good thing to get out into the world and chase your dreams, however big or small or selfish. Sometimes you catch them and sometimes you don't, but it's really all about the chase anyway. The journey can be transformative.

After a lot of thoughtful consideration, I decided to trade the Super Duty. Her last service under my watch was to deliver a Christmas tree across town. I hear that now she's on her way to a man in Texas who, I can only hope, is some cowboy who'll user her to haul an eight horse trailer and pull heavy farm equipment like she was meant to do. Her talents were wasted in Boulder. She's going home.

So what did I get? The cowboy has his say, and now it's the tree hugger's turn. I bought nothing less than one of the greenest cars in America: the Toyota Yaris sedan. On most lists it ranks in the top five, right up there with the Prius and a few other hybrids. It's the first and only car I've owned since I was 16 years old. It's also the first foreign car, the first compact car, and the first "green" vehicle I've ever owned. I call it the Bouldermobile because it's cute, compact, zippy, fashionable and very green. I doubt even a Boulder cyclist could flip me off for driving it. It gets over 40 mpg and the vehicle cost only 1/3 of what my Super Duty cost. It could probably fit in the bed of the Super Duty. And incidentally, the Super Duty ranks not on the "greenest" list, but on the "meanest" list. Yes, there is a "meanest" list. The Super Duty ranks among the Hummer and the Lamborghini as the least green commuter vehicles on the planet.

I promised myself that if I ever get my ranch and some horses, then I'll buy myself another Super Duty. But as long as I'm making a nice living in such a green and pleasant little city as Boulder, there's no need to spend the money and the carbon. That truck stuck out like a sore thumb in Boulder, but now I'm one of the cool kids again. And parking is a hell of a lot easier.

Who knows, I may even give up the Yaris in favor of my bike at some point in the future. I already bike, bus or walk around town more often than I drive. Gerard has been without a car for two years now (he refused to drive my truck) and feels no desire for one anymore. Indeed it's easy in Boulder. But I will say that Gerard loves this car. "It's so sexy!" he says with a smile. It really is fun to drive, and despite it's compact size it's really quite spacious inside. It's also 5 star crash rated, and has been given high marks by companies that do such things in the categories of safety, reliability, fuel efficiency, customer satisfaction and the like. It's also got some cool features like built in hands-free calling and traction control which I've already been impressed by in the snow. I have no plans to unload this one for a long, long time. It's the perfect Bouldermobile, second only to the bicycle.

But other than being a cornucopia of environmental Karma points, this car also cut my monthly payment by more than half, reduced the loan term by years, dropped my total debt by tens (yes tens) of thousands of dollars, cut my insurance rate in half, gave me back $1,000 in taxes which I'd paid on the Super Duty, and will probably average twenty bucks a month, tops, in gas. Oh, and I also got it financed at 0% interest AND got five years of maintenance and a 7 year bumper to bumper warranty thrown in for almost nothing (yes, I had to spend half a day haggling at the Toyota dealership, but I got it!)

Do I miss my truck? Of course, but not as much as I thought I would. And I'll also say this: I have ZERO buyer's remorse about this purchase. But trucks are not out of my life forever. I've always wanted an old pre-1980 pickup. I've always wanted to buy a junker and fix it up. It would basically be a toy, a pleasure vehicle. But I can't do this until I have a sizable garage workshop so it isn't on my immediate wishlist. My single minded goal from this point forward is to buy a home in Boulder, and considering recent events I couldn't be in a better position to do so. Unless I won the lottery, but I won't go there.

I feel like I've come home to Boulder for the second time.