The Great Honda Civic Hybrid Escapade

While the selling of our Civic Hybrid initially brought great relief in last our week in Vermont, you will eventually see how it eventually played a big role in the craziness of the move.

16 months ago, we bought a 2003 Honda Civic Hybrid for $11,000. It was a nice little tan car, getting about 45MPG, with tinted windows that we found especially helpful when driving with a young tot in the back seat. We bought it rather impulsively, when Erik’s 1993 Accord died a deserved death with 250+K miles on it. We thought “we like Hondas, we are environmentalists, we will buy a hybrid”. A quick search on Craig’s List found one for sale in Burlington, and off we went.

16 months later, we need to unload two cars as we head to Norway. Norway has incredible import taxes on cars: 105% of the value of the car. Neither one of our cars, the hybrid, nor our 1999 Subaru Forester are worth that. We’ll buy a new (ish) one in Norway. Additionally, we have a large (ish) dog: 80lbs of Weimaraner/Lab muscle who requires special space in our vehicle. The Honda won’t cut it, and the Subaru is too old.

 So, we’ll sell the Honda, and drive the Subaru to Minnesota for our month long stateside furlough, with the dog riding shotgun (the rest of the car filled with possessions that will be filling my in-laws last remaining corner in the basement).

As I said, 16 months later, in May 2010, our 2003 Hybrid is now worth $8500, or so says the Blue Book. We think we have two potential buyers—one Dartmouth med student, who backs out when she finds out on an Internet search that 2003 Honda Hybrids have transmission problems. We haven’t had any transmission problems, so we aren’t too worried.  In preparation for our second potential buyer—one of Erik’s fellow ecology grad students—we take the Honda to the dealer to run a 40-point inspection to prove it is a solid car. The report comes back with it passing 39 points, but the 40^th is that it needs the start up clutch re-burnished. Our second buyer looks through our records (something we haven’t exactly had time to do) and points out that this procedure was actually done back in August, 2009. 

A quick call to Honda tells us that if you’ve already reburnished the clutch once, that the next step is to actually . . . replace the transmission. And a new transmission will cost us  . . . . $4900. Keep in mind our car is worth only $8500.

Our second buyer backs out, not to our surprise. We are beginning to freak out—with our movers arriving in approximately a week—and consider the possibilities of parking our Lemon in our friend’s driveways, having them sell it, donating it to charity, or perhaps staging a major accident. Has anyone ever prayed that their car just get totaled?

Instead, on a Saturday morning we list it on Craig’s List for $3500—5K off our original asking price—and clearly state that the car “needs transmission work”, with every intent that we will explain the necessary work over the phone once the potential buyer has been intrigued enough to call.  Within 30 minutes of placing the online ad, Leon, a Russian from Albany NY (3 hrs away) calls me, begging me not to sell it to anyone else. His other car was totaled, he needs a car for work, he has cash, he will come that DAY and buy it. We get at least 3 other phone calls with the HOUR, and several emails, and Leon calls at least a half-dozen times to confirm that we have not sold it, and are holding it for him.  I am VERY clear with Leon that this car will eventually need $5000 worth of work done to it, but yes, the car does seem to run just fine now.

 While I was not privy to the actual interaction or transaction between Erik and Leon the Russian, a quick peak out the window as I put Greta down to bed at 7:30pm confirms most of what Erik and our friend Chad reported. Leon and his Russian-only speaking friend arrive, resplendent in very Eastern Bloc style dress, converse quickly in Russian, turn the car on, lift the hood, but do not test drive it. They give Erik $3500 in cash (Erik checks each bill for a watermark secretly in the house before handing over the title), and they sign a Bill of Sale provided by the Vermont DMV website, including a mileage statement.  A bit of foreshadowing: Leon elects not to sign the title when we give it to him, stating he might have his wife sign it instead. Doesn’t seem like a big deal to us, but whatever . . . . We wonder out loud what kind of shady deal this car is going to be a part of in the future, but for now it’s sold, and we have bigger things to worry about and at least $3500 in our pocket.