In a previous article, I espoused the benefits of the two-car system. One for work, one for play.
There is, however, very little use of adhering to this philosophy if like me, your weekend set of wheels has been immobile for over a year — becoming also temporary housing for a family of rats towards the end. Which means Perodua Axia all day, every day.
Truthfully, it wasn’t as if Yuriko had broken down beyond repair. The gearbox was slipping in 4th, but the first three gears still worked. My mistake had been to leave her at my grandmother’s house and start her up once a week, always thinking I’ll get to it when I have the time.
Out of sight, out of mind, as they say. Some of the motivation to repair or restore a car comes from constantly seeing it in a forlorn state, and me laying eyes on Yuriko so sparingly wasn’t moving things along at all. Especially since she could still fire up well enough, which meant that she was technically “running”.
The aforementioned rat family was quite the wake-up call. It was at the point, catching sight of the steadily decaying body and flattening tyres while the rodents scurried away with VTEC speed, that I realised enough was enough. Before me was a crossroads, either I sell Yuriko for scrap or get around to what I should have done the moment the four-speed auto gave out.
I couldn’t let her go, not when the old girl still had so much life left in her. But she needed to be close by, and I made the decision to bring her home where hopefully, finally, I would get on with getting her back in a condition sufficient enough to at least be driven. As any sensible petrolhead will tell you, the best method of transporting a car that hasn’t moved in over a year, especially one with a dodgy gearbox, is with a flatbed.
So we did exactly the opposite. In the dark of the night, and with two white Perodua Myvi escorts, I drove Yuriko home as both a symbolic and necessary start to her restoration process. Watch the video below to see the first step of this journey.