Teardown Begins

On Friday night we performed the ancient ritual known as “inspecting the racecar,” which is basically just walking around it slowly while making noises that mean everything and nothing at the same time.

Step one: assess overall condition. The Accord started instantly, which was suspicious. The check engine light was on, of course—our onboard motivational speaker. The tires were round-ish. The brakes existed in a philosophical sense. We nodded gravely, like surgeons reviewing an X-ray of a patient who absolutely refuses to stop eating curbs.

Then we moved into Phase Two: interior removal, also known as “free weight reduction and emotional liberation.” We pulled the seats like we were rescuing artifacts from a collapsing temple. Under the driver’s seat we found change, a fossilized french fries, old candy, and what I’m pretty sure was a 2009 regret. The carpet came out in pieces, but the sound deadening came out easily which is either a miracle or a warning.

We’ve decided to keep the french fries and candy to use as penalties for driver mistakes on the race circuit this season…

By the end of the day, the Accord looks less like a commuter car and more like a very determined shopping cart. Perfect.

Next up: hubs, brakes, safety gear, cage work, and convincing this humble sedan it was born for glory. March is coming, Lemons awaits, and our Accord is about to learn the true meaning of endurance: ours.