My heroic father drove all the way to D.C. for me to take over and drive up to NYC. I say heroic because you have to imagine a +60 year old gentleman driving a speced-out civic half way across the country. That adventure either put years onto his life or took some off, but by no means was Buick therapeutic.

My dad and I have taken great care of the Honda over the years with engine and suspension modifications, countless hours waxing and impeccable service records to make it an almost criminal act bringing such a well kept car to NYC.

Fugetaboutit! It wasn’t as if the Honda was going to appreciate! I’m trying to make myself feel better. After the first week and roads that make the unpaved roads in Ghana look and feel pristine, I was ready to sell the car. The advert would go, “Help, 94’ Civic Si stuck in NYC and needs good home anywhere else. Please SAVE!”

With two weeks on the odometer, I’ve pretty much mapped out the worse of the manhole holes, gritting grates, expansive expansion joints and did you know iPods can skip? I’m partially to blame here. LA’s pavement friendly roads let me put some serious suspension kit on the Honda with HR lowering springs and KBY adjustable sport shocks. Adjust all you want, a CD skips all the way through by the time I reach the end of my street.

There are still times when you just can’t avoid the impending misalignment job by the city of New York. You cringe, brace and close your eyes. In the time it takes Captain Kirk to yell, “Shields!” a moment too late before a Klingon torpedo causes the set to shake, the damage is done. The F1 inspired wishbone suspension gives up, the steering goes numb and the Edelbrock headers take another for the team. I wonder how many more plays they have in them before I have an immediate muffler downgrade?

Like a Honda Rock

In 1994, I contemplated a Ford Ranger with goofy SPLASH decals or the Honda. Going to university in Texas (but not the University of Texas…Aggie here!), the pressure to have a truck is Ford tough, like a Chevy rock and whatever Dodge was doing at the time. I’m glad the Euro bug in me kept true and I ended up with my hot hatch, as Japanese as it is.

Over 13 years, the Honda has served very well from highway burner (135mph at 5am on I-10 out of El Paso) to Fast and Furious cool in Los Angeles. I’ve carried couches out the back, moved countless dorm and apartment rooms and navigated Colorado mountain roads in winter storms. The Honda continues to serves as the ultimate city car in NYC with 160” of pure parking power. All this and 50 state legal!

On the drive up from D.C., the nostalgia of 13 years showed more proud as I cruised willingly at 90mph with the sunroof open. The Honda’s VTEC still screams beautiful, the clutch and precision shifter loves to be used and the balance of the chassis continues to set standards (at least mine) for cars much younger.

A car in NYC? CRAZY!

I didn’t need a car. There is a certain cache to living in New York City and not having a car. People from other parts of the US are stunned when I tell them I live in NYC and I don’t have a car. “How do you get around,” they would ask. Some went as far as, “How do you live without a car,” as if one isn’t living unless you have a car. I love my friends in Los Angeles.

The subway and buses serve me quite well in NYC despite strikes, long waits and at times unsavory passengers along for the ride. Mulch bags are heavy though, making Home Depot trips awkward. The full size carpet adventure on the L train was just rude. “Let’s go up-state,” meant the 1 train to Yonkers.

I wanted a car. What better vehicle than my 13 year old college car? With 160,000 miles and preserved in my dad’s garage for five years, I’ve resurrected my 1994 Honda Civic Si. Big highway miles in Texas led to canyon carving runs and Friday night import drag racing in Los Angeles. Certainly used and possibly abused in the best ways, the Honda would make the perfect choice for the beating of NYC. I truly mean beating.