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You Get What you Pay For by Anna Pinkerton (originally shared March 2020)

 We first met Ronda online, but regardless, something about her just seemed right.
 One weekend several Januaries ago, we drove up to Denver and located Ronda’s address (with some trepidation, as one always does when Craigslist dealing). But the neighborhood seemed decent as did the perspective seller. We looked her over carefully hoping that the good price didn’t hide a lemon. But with some hurried consultation, we decided that she was the one for us.  
After handing over 2,400 in cash, which we had procured in increments of 200 (because that’s all the ATM would deliver), we became the proud owners of a 2002 Honda Civic with Manual Transmission. I do not know if she had a previous name, but soon after she came to us, we christened her Ronda the Honda or just Ronda for short. She was named in part for Ronda Rousey (the professional wrestler) and in part because the name just stuck. Either way she has certainly lived up to it.
Because Ronda lived in Colorado, I imagine her life before us was interesting enough. But with us, it has been far from dull. She has toured far and wide and driven courageously through the heavy traffic of Denver, Atlanta, Austin and Dallas. She has traveled to Santa Fe and Virginia, Boone and San Antonio and many places between. Her most daring feats were navigating the icy roads of Key Stone, CO and making it alive over Loveland Pass in winter. Because she is Ronda, she has always dared to tread rough roads where many others would falter.
Not only is Ronda well-traveled and adventurous, but she is tough—as her many scraps and scrapes bear witness. She has lurched into an icy guardrail (leaving a permanent scar) and spun her tires on her far share of snowy roads. You can’t faze her no matter how hard or fast you hit a deep pot hole or stall out at awkward times. She’s had her gas stolen by siphon, suffered a break-in (another scar), crashed off of a towing trailer, driven over a concrete parking block (causing extensive scraping to her undercarriage), had her windshield wiper destroyed by flying road debris, lost her bumper (successfully reattached by zip-ties) and two hub caps (never re-attached).
Because Ronda is a Colorado girl, she prefers cooler weather. Born and bred in Denver, she intensely dislikes when the outside temperature reaches above 90 and is quick to express her discomfort by shutting off the AC and refusing to close the driver’s side window when opened. This habit was not a problem until we were stuck multiple times together in Atlanta traffic in high summer while pregnant (me, not her). Sadly, Texas summers agree with her no better than did Georgia’s. But for now, she must reside in warmer climates. As a sojourner she has been forced to wear Texas plates, but at heart she will live and die a Coloradan dreaming of cool mountain air.
Ronda turned 18 this year and judging by her appearance (hygiene/beauty products can only do so much), one would think she might not have long to live. But she is gutsy and her engine has many miles left to go. After a brief set-back and some internal work, she runs like a dream again. She may look like an old lady car, but in her heart she is a BMW M5 and likes to be put through her paces. In Ronda I’m not scary driving 90, although the policeman that ticketed me did not agree.
We have shared many adventures together and I hope many more. Ronda is now loved by another generation and gets to be “driven” enthusiastically by a three year old. She has become more than a car—a faithful companion. Or in Mary’s words, “Ronda is a good friend.” When her time comes, she will be sorely missed. The saying that “you get what you pay for” generally holds true, but in Ronda’s case, I would say that we got a whole lot more. 



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