Into The Blue*

Reuniting With A Family Jewel After 40 Years. 

 

 

  Pirate Press             June 2026

More fun than Hantavirus on a Cruise Ship!

 

Just last year I had complained about how difficult it was finding Victoria a new car and then suddenly I was back in the same situation with Amanda after she was broadsided in January. 

 

It's no exaggeration to state that prices and supply are ridiculous for both new and used vehicles, and due to that we searched up to 600 miles for a suitable replacement.

 

She wanted something similar to her Hyundai Santa Fe that was good on gas, wasn't too big, and had a lot of space.  

 

Fortunately, our insurance picked up the tab for a 2024 Jeep Compass Limited 4x4 loaner so we happily piled the miles on it during our exploration. 

 

 

"Everything's Bigger in Tampa" 

 

The first vehicle we wanted to inspect was all the way in Wesley Chapel, Florida, which is an affluent suburb of Tampa. It was located at BMW of Wesley Chapel, a sprawling seven-story, 130,000-square-foot dealership. Situated on four acres of prime real estate right off I-75, the multi-level parking structure features 340 spaces for vehicle inventory as well as 208 spots for customers and employees. Obviously, it's the largest dealership I've ever seen or viewed. 

 

A BMW dealership bigger than a lot of hospitals I've visited.

We got a late start for Wesley Chapel but I reasoned that was okay because we planned to drop by the dealership after hours. This would ensure that we weren't hounded by salesmen and we could also determine if we liked the vehicle or not before committing to buying it.

 

Following a delightful dinner at Chuy's in Gainesville, we arrived in Wesley Chapel around 9:30 PM and noticed what a clean and modern-looking community it was. Last year, it was even recognized as Florida's Best Place to Live by Consumer Affairs. But with a median household income of $112,000, and with nearly 20% of households earning over $200,000, it wasn't a complete surprise. 

 

Unfortunately, after driving around the massive, monolithic structure several times, I determined that the Mazda CX-9 we came to see was located on one of the parking garage's upper floors. Furthermore, access to all of it was restricted by a rather imposing and sturdy-looking wrought-iron gate. Obviously, investigating a vehicle like this wouldn't have been an issue at any other dealership but I just happened to pick the one attached to a 100-ft. tall carport. I had briefly entertained the concern that this might happen, but I was almost certain that a pre-owned Mazda would be parked out front rather than sharing covered space with $100,000 BMWs. Regrettably for me, they had room for both! 

 

Our next— and more immediate matter— was to find accommodations for the evening lest we wanted to test the sleeping space in the back of the Jeep. Amanda nor I were fond of that idea, so we both began furiously searching on our phones for nearby lodging. Much to our chagrin, we quickly discovered that the late hour, holiday weekend and ritzy location all conspired to significantly dwindle our available options.           

There was a Residence Inn by Marriott around the corner from the dealership so I checked it's price online and was stunned that even with my member discount it was still an outrageous $350 per night! But with few other vacancies present, I was seriously beginning to consider the likelihood of staying overnight in our four-wheeled "White House" and it certainly wasn't the one at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. But after some more desperate hunting, I bit the bullet and paid $250 for a nearby Holiday Inn Express which was clearly highway robbery. 

 

Upon check-in, I groused to the heavily-pierced and tattooed female desk clerk about the extortionary amount and she replied that those prices are dictated by the corporate office and they have no control over them. Perhaps due to her loneliness (and the fact that I was essentially a captive audience) she proceeded to torment me with her various experiences there such as the animosity she received in 2023 when Taylor Swift's circus came to Tampa for three sold-out shows. Hotel rooms were commanding over $1,000 a night and even reaching nearly $2,000 in some cases with customers feeling fully justified in venting their anger to her about it. I sympathized with her and told her I could completely envision those entitled snowflakes wanting to victim-blame someone else. I then quickly slipped out the side door before she could seamlessly segue into another long-winded, depressing account of her employment there.   

 

The next morning, we made our way to Wesley Chapel BMW to view the elusive Mazda CX-9. 

 

So why a Mazda?

 

Back in 1979, my parents bought their first and last Mazda, a 1980 626. It was award-winning and would go on to become Motor Trend's Import Car of the Year. It was a beautiful Marine Blue Metallic and I even took my driving test and had my first date in that car. But despite that nostalgia, it burned a lot of oil and constantly had brake problems. The 2.0-liter carbureted four-cylinder was designed for leaded gas and only made 75hp but thin cylinder walls led to seemingly more oil than fuel consumption. Under the directive that I would never tell my Mother, my Father admitted that during a family emergency he discovered that it's top speed was only 80 mph. 

 

Before the Miata appeared in 1990, the RX-7 was Mazda's sole sports car. My cousin had one, as did my high-school girlfriend. In 1988, Coker Mazda in Mobile got in a 10th Anniversary Turbo Edition that was one of just 1,500 produced. It was a stunning Crystal White example with special badging and even a Momo steering wheel. I think the salesman just wanted an excuse to drive it because he offered to take me for a spin and it was the fastest sports car I'd ever experienced up to that point.   

 

Our 626 was eventually traded in on a new 1985 Honda Accord but those fond memories persisted. So, when Mazda popped up as one of the most reliable brands next to Honda and Toyota, I seriously began considering one for our household. (Also, I'm superstitious and didn't want our recent bad luck following us so I steered cleared of Hyundai and Kia.) 

 

Our Mazda 626 circa June 1980. Dig those groovy whitewalls! 

 

Ironically, Ford and Mazda have a storied history stretching all the way to 1974 with their first partnership. Back then, the fledgling automotive company was still known as Toyo Kogyo which doesn't roll off the tongue nearly as smoothly as Mazda, a name derived from Ahura Mazda, the Asian god of harmony, intelligence and wisdom.  

 

The reason I bring this up is because my Ford Fusion rides on a Mazda 6 platform while the CX-9 we looked at has a Ford 3.7-liter V6, nearly identical to the one in the Mustang. Unfortunately, due to packaging constraints the V6 makes roughly 30hp less in the Mazda and is burdened with an extra 1,000 lbs to accommodate the All-Wheel-Drive and 7-passenger seating. As such, fuel economy suffers with it struggling to break 20 mpg. 

 

I drove it around Wesley Chapel, but Amanda and I unanimously decided it wasn't right for us. Not only was it a little too big and ponderous, we also didn't like the poor fuel economy and it had a problem with either the battery or alternator. During the test drive, the led screens were too dim to read properly and afterwards it wouldn't crank again. In a bid to save the sale, they offered to fix it but we already had our minds up. 

 

However, the highlight of the visit was listening to a narcissistic, middle-aged woman in the showroom experiencing an absolute meltdown because they didn't have a new BMW X5 with white leather! Apparently accustomed to quite a privileged life, she didn't understand why she couldn't get exactly what she wanted immediately. A true "Enfant Terrible" I could not work a job where I was forced to coddle such vile people. I struggled to imagine what major insecurities she had that required such materialistic possessions to feel validated. Regardless, I've never been so happy to leave a dealership before.            

  

Mazda calls this CX-9 "Dolphin Gray" but it sure looks black to me. 

 

Since we agreed that the CX-9 was too large, we decided to step down to the CX-5. We found a nice one in Soul Red Metallic at a Tampa dealership that boasted about being family-owned since 1968. However, the salesman was reluctant to provide a Carfax which was a (no pun intended) red flag. But, I had the VIN so I was able to do a little research myself and I discovered that it had a rebuilt title from a previous accident. The damage was so extensive that the entire frame on the passenger side was bent in like a pretzel and it was declared a total loss. Someone after that bought it, repaired it, and registered it with a rebuilt title. Frame damage is particularly hard to fix and you never know if it was done correctly. Due to this, a lot of insurance companies won't issue policies for vehicles with salvage/rebuilt titles. However, the rebuilt title wasn't the deal-breaker in this case, it was the dealership's dishonesty in trying to pass-off it off as having a clean title!    

        

Soul-Less: All that glitters is not gold (or red in this case!) 

 

That notwithstanding, our time with the CX-5 confirmed that it was indeed what we were looking for: it didn't require costly 93 octane, was devoid of useless all-wheel-drive, made almost 200hp without the added stress of a turbocharger, and the rear cargo space was similar to what we had in the Santa Fe.

 

Our vehicular reconnaissance accomplished, we decided to spend the next day exploring the brand new Epic Universe, Universal's $7 Billion sprawling paean to the evils of capitalism. Located 15 mins from Universal's main venue, it encompasses 110-acres and is the most expensive theme park ever built. It offers four new worlds to explore: The Wizarding World of Harry Potter- Ministry of Magic, Super Nintendo World, How to Train Your Dragon: Isle of Berk and Dark Universe.

 

Abandon all ye money, ye who enter here!  

 

Personally, I didn't think I'd ever find a theme park more expensive than Disney World but Universal has certainly succeeded. Parking was $30 and it was $500 for Amanda and I just to get into the park and that didn't even include the Express passes which would have been another $500. Truthfully, I was going to purchase them but they were completely sold out. And while I was initially disappointed, I would later find out that it was a huge blessing in disguise. 

 

 A monkey with a crayon could have designed a more exciting $250 ticket.  

 

Alongside us, Winter Storm Fern had also arrived in Orlando and was bringing unprecedented cold with a record-tying low of 22 degrees in Jacksonville. Ill-prepared for this, I only had  a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt so Epic Universe felt more like the North Pole than tropical Florida. 

 

Unexpectedly, it was also the coldest weekend since Epic Universe opened in May 2025. This is significant because these $100 million rides don't function in sub-50 degree weather. Why this issue was never examined or addressed prior to the $7 billion investment is beyond me. We've been to Disney dozens of times when it was similarly cold and not once have any of their rides been shutdown due to low temperatures. As I mentioned earlier— and due to the popularity of the first holiday weekend in 2026— it was a Godsend that we didn't spend an extra $250 each for Express Passes. For a family of four (of which we saw many that day) it represented an investment of $2000 to essentially walk around the park for the day. Universal did not offer refunds, or even an apology, for the thousands of people that bought a fast ticket to nowhere.

 

A beautiful, but frigid start to our day at Epic Universe. 

  

Despite that, we arrived early enough to catch a few rides before the impending drop in mercury shut everything down.  The Harry Potter ride was technologically stunning even with a near 4-hour wait. The Augmented-Reality Mario Kart was a huge disappointment and we understandably skipped Fyre Drill, a wet, water-based ride in Isle of Berk. Paradoxically, the simplistic wooden boats in it were unaffected by the icy temps that brought down all the other million-dollar machinery. And finally, the Frankenstein-focused Monsters Unchained was my absolute favorite, even though it malfunctioned on our second time riding it. 

 

Universal spared no expense on Harry Potter and The Battle at the Ministry. 

 

And while Mythos at Universal's Islands of Adventure has consistently been ranked the best theme park restaurant in the world, it seems they have not been content to coast on their accolades. We dined at both Toadstool Cafe in Super Nintendo World and Mead Hall in Isle of Berk, and each had tremendously creative and satisfying meals. My Super Mushroom Pizza Bowl was like a giant pizza pot pie and the "? Block Tiramisu" was the most unusual interpretation of the Italian dessert I've ever eaten. 

 

 

After twelve hours at Universal, it was dark and cold, and the perfect time to visit the world's largest Ferrari dealership without fear of being harassed. But in the grand scheme of authorized purveyors, Ferrari of Central Florida in Orlando is a mere baby, having only been established since 1999. 

 

As I wistfully recall the halcyon days of the 1980s, and my first Ferrari-spotting trip to South Florida in October 1988, there were only two official dealerships in the entire state (and neither had the brand in the name as is now common). There was Shelton Sports Cars in Ft. Lauderdale and The Collection in Coral Gables. Back then, individual dealers played fast and loose with the franchises and there was virtually no corporate oversight or conformity. Before it was acquired by the Shelton brothers in 1982, it was Paradise Motors owned by Robert Publicker in the late 1950s/early 1960s. Then (Robert) Cressman Motors in the 1960s and 1970s and finally Cressman-(Philip) Baumgarten in early 1980s. 

 

Witness the long-arms/short-legs "Primate Posture" required to sit in a Lamborghini Countach. The clamshell bucket seat was thinly-padded and hard while the heavy clutch was equally uncomfortable, doubling as a calf-exercise device. But owners gladly endured the misery because it was such an outrageously beautiful car.  (Pictured at Shelton Sports Cars)

           

In a bizarre case of life imitating Miami Vice, the owner of The Collection was indicted by a Federal Grand Jury on a massive drug charge in November 1993. The dealership was seized when prosecutors invoked forfeiture laws and in 1994 it was bought by Italian developer Ugo Colombo.

 

While total worldwide sales in 1988 struggled to break 4,000 units, Ferrari sold 13,640 vehicles in 2025 with net revenues of $8 million. Interestingly, earnings were up 7% over 2024 despite moving more cars (13,752) that year. Ferrari pointed to strong sales of the 12Cilindri, its new V12 grand tourer, as well as the XX Stradale, a track-ready version of the SF90. Ferrari cynically appeals to their ego-driven customer base with high-dollar, limited-edition models that allow them to sell fewer cars but make more money on each one sold. The XX Stradale is the perfect example— it has a stripped-down interior and just 30 more horsepower yet commands a $300,000 premium, a 50% hike over the retail price of the standard SF90. The mordacious money-makers in Maranello know that the typical Ferrari owner's self-worth is directly tied to their need for the best driveway jewelry and that they'll pay handsomely for that honor. Hence, limited-edition models as well as convertibles usually strike the intended demographic with the accuracy of a U.S. Tomahawk missile hitting an Iranian tanker.     

 

But big interest follows big money, so Florida now boasts five additional authorized Ferrari centers. Since my last visit in 1993, each has been strategically stationed in wealthy zip codes like Boca Raton, Naples, Orlando, Palm Beach and Tampa Bay. Ferrari's typical market for a new dealership is a high density of individuals with investable assets exceeding $30 Million so it's safe to say that there won't be a Ferrari of Pensacola anytime soon.     

 

And while not as sizable as BMW of Wesley Chapel that we had visited the day before, Ferrari of Central Florida is still the largest authorized Ferrari/Maserati dealership in the world with a 62,000 square-foot area and 23 climate-controlled service bays. It also boasts the most comprehensive collection of special models that I've ever seen assembled under one roof including the legendary quintet of a 1985 288 GTO, 1987 F40, 1995 F50, 2003 Enzo and a 2015 LaFerrari. This conglomeration alone constitutes an investment of over $25 Million, not including the ultra-rare 333 SP and the Formula One race car. 

 

Amazingly, my late-night skulking in the bushes did not trigger any attack dogs or laser-controlled turrets, but the dealership is (understandably) reputed to have a state-of-the-art surveillance system with over 200 infra-red cameras to protect its considerable assets.   

 

For our last meal in Orlando, we dined appropriately at an Italian eatery that I've been wanting to try for nearly a decade: Buca di Beppo. Given our theme park itinerary, we arrived late and I explained to the hostess how long I had wanted to visit the chain as well as the fact that we'd endured an 8 hour drive to do so. I figured at the very least, my out-of-state area code for the waiting list would corroborate my story and engender a small amount of sympathy. However, my pleas fell on deaf ears as we still had to survive a mind-numbing one-hour wait before being seated. 

 

Since 2020, 36 Buca di Beppo locations have been shuttered, cutting the total number of restaurants by nearly half to to just 40. A Chapter 11 bankruptcy in 2024, declining sales, and negative reviews have all been to blame for the rapid reduction in patrons. I figured if we didn't try it now, there might not be a second chance as our nearest locations in Atlanta and Houston have already closed.

 

However, none of the company's immense fiscal problems were visible at the location we visited in Celebration, a suburb roughly 30 miles south of Orlando: it was completely mobbed with birthday parties, couples and families. I also quickly discovered that Buca di Beppo is not the place for anyone on Zepbound (Motto: Only Poor People Need Willpower!) or similar vanity appetite suppressants because all the meals are served "Family Style" which in Italian apparently translates to "Keep Eating, Fatass!" That's right, the smallest serving Amanda and I could get consisted of 5 large chicken parmigiana patties, several pounds of pasta and twelve slices of garlic bread. Suffice it to say, it was the first time I've ever left a restaurant and not had room for Tiramisu. Fate permitting, I'd love for us to try it again, possibly the next time with my daughter and her boyfriend as I think that would be just right for the massive portions.  

 

       A convoy of Corvettes (and a lone Ferrari 488) passed us outside Plant City.

 

The next day, we returned home to Mississippi empty handed but I wasn't upset. After the test drives, we'd confirmed what we wanted and didn't want, and it was a good excuse for a fun weekend in Florida. However, the scarcity and outrageous prices for another vehicle is what made the task so daunting.

 

But, fate can be a funny thing as our future CX-5 was right under our nose the whole time, essentially negating the time and expense of our Orlando expedition. That's right, I stumbled upon it when browsing potential matches in Mobile and quickly made an appointment to check it out. 

 

After all our recent misfortune, I certainly wasn't optimistic so I suspect that's why it was the right one finally. But while I knew the CX-5 was a reasonably safe bet, I wasn't prepared to go all-in on a brand new one. With a MSRP of $40,485 for a 2026 model, 20% depreciation right off the showroom floor, and Amanda still being unemployed, we settled on an attractive 2016 model for half the price.     

  

For starters, the Deep Crystal Blue Mica paint is quite unusual and exquisite. It's an intense, deep blue that reveals purple hues in direct sunlight yet appears solid black after dark. It is highly reminiscent of the Ferrari paint color, Blu Pozzi, albeit much less expensive. Needless to say, I've never owned a blue vehicle before and the inclusion of the ivory leather interior, referred to as "Parchment", is a beautiful contrast.   

 

 

And despite it's humble origins, our CX-5 also sports a lot of other automotive firsts for our household. I never imagined that the first vehicle I'd purchase with 19-inch wheels would be a SUV but here it is. Thanks to the "Grand Touring" top-level trim, 225/55R19 tires are fitted which seems excessive to me. Additionally, there's the curious choice of brand-new Bridgestone Weatherpeaks for the tires. As a vehicle that spent it's entire life in South Florida, the decision to outfit it with rubber designed for "Severe Snow Service" is honestly quite mystifying. Despite that, they boast a class-leading 5 year/70,000-mile treadwear warranty so I plan on keeping them for a while.

 

When I started looking at the CX-5, I knew right away not to consider anything less than the "Grand Touring" model as Amanda had made it abundantly clear that she likes her creature comforts. So, in addition to the oversized wheels, there's also a better engine, heated leather seats, a 9-speaker Bose audio system and a moonroof. However, the most surprising exclusion was a power liftgate as we had become accustomed to the convenience of one on our Santa Fe. But, it turns out that this was deliberate as a power liftgate was not available on the CX-5 at any price. Some owners praised this as simply one less part to break, while others criticized the lack of it. I just chalked it to Setsuyaku, Japan's philosophy of frugality that embraces productivity and minimalism— it might not be luxurious but it sure gets the job done.

 

And in terms of Asian efficiency, the CX-5's engine is a sterling example of that. At 2.5 liters, it's easily the largest four-cylinder I've ever owned and the most powerful naturally-aspirated one. With 185hp, it eclipses the 3.0-liter V6 in our old Saturn L300 and makes within 20 hp of what my Redline's supercharged four-cylinder came with from the factory. Funny enough, it even edges out of the RX-7 Turbo that seemed so fast back in 1988.

 

  

Mazda's buzzword for this proprietary engine technology is Skyactiv, not to be confused with Skyrizi, a prescription medication used to treat moderate-to-severe plaque psoriasis. Utilizing a "Super Secret Sake" recipe, the mechanical ninjas in Hiroshima devised a way to make a 13.0:1 compression ratio engine operate optimally on just 87 octane. And it's actually detuned for the U.S. market— Mazda admitted that our CX-5's make roughly 10hp less than Japanese versions which run on 91 octane.   

 

The CX-5 also includes the wildest factory header I've ever seen— a serpentine 4-2-1 exhaust pipe with an integrated catalytic converter to minimize premature ignition from the sky-high compression ratio

 

 

Twisted Metal: Mazda's 2.5L exhaust header could pass for Modern Art. 

 

Assisting this ultra-efficiency is yet another first for me, a requirement stipulating super-lightweight 0W-20 synthetic oil that looks and flows like Lipton iced tea. It's definitely a far-cry from the syrupy 10W-30 dino juice I used in my Fiero. Attention was also paid to strengthening and cooling with a forged steel crankshaft (in lieu of cast-iron) and unique pistons with a special center cut-out to keep the spark plug from getting too hot. Also, overall engine mass was trimmed by 15 lbs., with ten of it being excised from non-critical areas. 

 

 

Even though it was quite a task to locate the flagship model without it, I purposely opted for the front-wheel-drive version which shaved a significant 225 lbs. off the scale. Despite the increasing popularity, I refuse to invest in an All-Wheel-Drive setup until I live in a state that gets more than a sprinkling of snow every decade. Basic physics dictate that a vehicle with a tenth-ton less mass will accelerate, stop, and handle infinitely better. And the deletion of the extra drivetrain complexity boosts fuel economy while reducing repair costs. 

 

With an EPA Highway Rating of 33 MPG, it's also the most frugal SUV we've ever owned, an unfortunate necessity when gas prices are over $4 gallon thanks to our warmonger President.  

 

Although it had an outstanding CarFax (and the brake pads, rotors and alternator had all been recently replaced) I took it to a local shop I've previously used for a professional inspection. Mercifully, it was all good news with just the usual cursory reminders of fluid changes when the odometer rolls over 100k miles. Otherwise, the cabin air filter looked new and I changed the engine air filter myself. The mechanic even introduced himself, congratulated me on the purchase, and then volunteered that he had formerly been a Mazda mechanic for ten years. I had clearly done my due diligence when researching the CX-5 but it was certainly nice to hear his expert opinion affirming my decision.

 

  

Obviously, I'm proud of our CX-5 and it seems like a real blue-chip investment. Mazda is a conservative company and because of that, the new 2026 CX-5 doesn't look radically different from our 2016, an aspect I'm clearly fond of. 

 

But it's more than skin-deep because despite similar proportions, the '26 CX-5 is heavier, slower and gets worse fuel economy. The "Grand Touring" moniker is gone, replaced with a "Premium Plus" trim that's essentially the same package, right down to the identical 225/55R19 tires and the familiar 2.5-liter engine. However, the four-cylinder has been modified to run on 93 octane with very mild gains of 3 hp and 1 lb-ft. of torque. Furthermore, those tiny improvements have been pushed higher up the rev-band, arguably making it less responsive— horsepower now peaks at 6000rpm instead of 5700rpm and torque crests at 4000rpm versus 3250 rpm. Combined with a curb weight that's 525 lbs. heavier (thanks to mandatory All-Wheel-Drive) it's a formula not nearly as athletic as our 2016 model. Likewise, not only is the premium fuel considerably more expensive (Up to $1 per gallon in my area) but overall mileage drops sharply from 26 City/33 Highway to 24/30.    

 

For the 2026 model, Car and Driver estimated an 8.2-second dash to 60 mph with a 16.5 second quarter-mile and a 116 mph top speed. Sadly, a version of our CX-5 without the AWD wasn't tested, but even with the extra 250 lbs. it managed much better times of 7.6, 15.8 and 123 respectively, which is plenty fast for my wife. 

 

With those boxes checked, our final concern was interior space. This was underscored by our Jeep rental which we spent nearly one month in. Although it appeared to be similar in size to our dearly departed Hyundai, it was not nearly as spacious on the inside. In fact, the two front seats were so close together that our arms frequently bumped into each other. Also, when loading the luggage for our trip to Orlando it became immediately evident that we were dealing with considerably less cargo space than what we were accustomed to. Sure enough, the Jeep only possessed 27 cubic feet of storage, a whopping 30% shy of our Santa Fe. These things might not sound like a lot on paper, but every inch counts when you're trying to stack suitcases like a game of Tetris and driving 8 hours each way.  

 

  

Likewise, I never checked beforehand but I was delighted to discover that our CX-5's trunk space was within 1-foot of the Hyundai (34 vs. 35) and possessed exactly the same wheelbase (106.3 inches). Coincidentally, our Mazda is a half-inch lower and 6 inches shorter which also helps it fit better in our garage without impacting interior comfort.  

 

I recently took it on a solo drive to Mobile and was able to glean a lot more from it when not burdened with a nervous spouse and several hundred pounds of luggage. The CX-5 has long been praised as the best-handling crossover in its segment and once I hit some rural roads I could see why. Mazda engineers were inspired by the Miata, and tuned the CX-5 to behave more like a sports car than an SUV. Putting it through it's paces, I was rewarded with excellent chassis communication, firm steering, and precise handling. Despite being handicapped by the Winter-Rated rubber, the 19-inch tires still felt stable and planted. Body roll was minimal and the six-speed automatic transmission (No fragile CVT here!) is programmed to hold gears longer during fast cornering (trailing throttle), same as you would if putting down laps on a race course. It actually encourages hot-blooded drivers like me to maintain the momentum through the curves.        

 

 

The seating position is lower, which I like, so it feels more like a car than an SUV. In Car and Driver testing, the CX-5 out-braked and out-handled my Fusion Sport which shouldn't be possible. Mazda credits this outcome as Jinba Ittai which translates to "Unity of horse and rider." It's definitely the most sports car-like SUV I've ever driven. 

 

Needless to say, losing three vehicles to catastrophic wrecks in 14 months has been a physically, financially and emotionally jarring experience so I'm hoping we can keep our CX-5 for a while.  I feel this is the best way to figuratively dip our toes into the Mazda pool without too much risk. If it works out and Amanda likes it, I certainly wouldn't be opposed to buying a new one. 

 

 

*Kudos if you immediately thought of the 2005 movie starring a bikini-clad Jessica Alba. Of course, Blue Crush would have worked, also. 😎    

 

DEATH WISH

  

Pirate Press             May 2026

Pascagoula, named for an indigenous Native America tribe, is a sleepy town of 20,000 on the Mississippi coast. It's most famous (or infamous, depending on your perspective) for the 1973 alleged alien abduction of two fisherman. Proving that the local denizens have a sense of humor about the incident, it's celebrated every October with an event known as "Goula-Palooza" where participants wear their best tinfoil hats and extraterrestrial attire. 

A mural commemorating the abduction. (Note: the haircuts and clothing are not historically accurate.)

 

Otherwise, Pascagoula is a pretty staid and boring place to live or work, with the majority of crimes consisting of low-level offenses like frauds and scams, domestic violence and malicious mischief.

April 16th 2026 began as routinely as any of the other 2,456 days that I had worked for the Board of Supervisors. As a Computer Technician, I'm one of the few employees who actually visits every department in the county. My service zone extends from the Ocean Springs Harbor to the Trent Lott International Airport in Helena and as far north as Vancleave and Whispering Pines Golf Course. With such a wide and diverse area, it's not a stretch to claim that I never have the same day twice.

For the past few years (weather permitting), I've taken to walking on my lunch break. I've found the sunshine and fresh air to be relaxing and it gives me a healthy break from staring at a computer screen for 8 hours a day.

This day was no different, though I noticed about halfway through my typical 3-mile walk that the approaching summer calefaction would soon make it unbearable. However, strong gusts of wind coming off the Gulf managed to temporarily cool the ambient air and make my sunny stroll quiet tolerable. As I explained to my coworkers, I can physically withstand the 100-degree temps but rather returning to my office drenched in sweat is what I take exception to. 

At approximately 12:10, I was walking the last quarter-mile when I heard a series of five or six sharp, rapid-fire cracks that immediately shattered the silence of the otherwise calm day. It was such an aberrant and unexpected noise that it immediately stopped me in my tracks.

Ingalls Shipbuilding is the largest employer in the state and is literally a stone's throw across the Pascagoula river from my walking loop. Two years ago, they were awarded a $9.6 Billion contract to build four amphibious warships for the Navy (3 Flight II San Antonio-class LPDs and 1 LHA) so I'm accustomed to hearing various machinery and construction clamor related to that. In fact, it's so common and ordinary that I've largely tuned it out on my hikes.

But these new sounds were unusual and different; I briefly entertained the idea that they were indeed gunshots but such a conclusion seemed ridiculous given that it was in the most heavily populated part of Pascagoula. After all, Resurrection Catholic School was just a block away from me, as well as various other shops and eateries. Nothing bad ever happens there, I reassured myself. 

Trying feebly to process and rationalize what I'd heard, I frantically looked around to see if I could spot someone—anyone— with a nail gun or something similar I thought could replicate that disturbing resonance. I imagined a roofer on top of the school replacing the shingles but couldn't see any indication of such activity. 

And before I could speculate any further, the deafening silence was interrupted by multiple firecracker-like pops that I knew emanated from a handgun.  

The realization hit me like a bucket of ice-water and I grasped that something very bad was unfolding. Even worse, I immediately felt an ominous sensation in the pit of my stomach warning me to stay away from the area where the gunfire was originating. Meanwhile, multiple sirens in the distance were drawing closer and I saw a Pascagoula Police car speeding down the next street over. 

I quickly pulled out my phone and switched it to video to try to capture some of the gunfire exchange I was hearing. But after a minute of recording, I realized that in my nervousness I'd neglected to actually start the recording. Regrettably, I'm sure the same thing would have happened if I'd been abducted by aliens and not been able to document any of it! 

Next, I hastily composed a quick text to Amanda to apprise her of the situation and let her know I was unhurt. Before the advent of cellphones and the internet, I could have possibly gone the whole day without alarming her. But with everything unfolding in real time now, and it being in the direct proximity of my workplace, I knew she would panic if she didn't hear from me immediately.

Previously, I worked at a bank for 15 years where there was always the distant threat of a robbery. Although I knew a lot of other employees who had altercations with armed individuals, I always counted myself fortunate that I was never involved with one. So when I started my current job here in 2019, it's literally the last thing I ever thought I'd have to worry about.

Regrettably, our campus has the highest concentration of public servants and elected officials in the county, so if a private citizen feels they were given a raw deal in any civil or criminal matter, it's likely the responsible party works here. 

And unfortunately, in today's unhinged society people are much more inclined and willing to attempt to "settle the score" than to simply accept it and move forward. During my tenure here, there have been several incidents where individuals have become quite hostile over items such as unpaid taxes and car tags. Due to feeling disenfranchised, they are already predisposed to bad behavior. But when it also involves taking their money, it becomes as combustible as pouring gasoline on a fire. 

As I approached the property where the Service Complex sits, I could see Police officers stationed at every corner. A woman on a motorcycle had just been forced to turn around and she was heading towards me. She stopped an uttered a phrase to me I never imagined I'd hear in my community: She bluntly stated that I couldn't go that way because it was blocked by an "Active Shooter." I felt like Rory McIlroy had suddenly tee'd a 400-yard drive off my head as I tried to process the gravity of her words.  

Sadly, as a society we've become desensitized to such a frightening expression because it's so overused in articles and news reports. I've even been guilty of marginalizing it myself because I truthfully never thought it would happen to me. I used to ridicule Amanda's best friend who worked at an elementary school because she constantly preached the necessity of being prepared for just such a situation.       

Suddenly, my phone rang and it was Chris, a co-worker in my office who had heard the news on a police scanner. He was calling to see where I was and to make sure I was safe. I informed him of my location and told him I was presently unhurt, but I didn't know how things would develop. He said he was at home on his lunch break and was going to remote into our camera system to see if he could glean any knowledge of what was happening. 

Predictably, it was complete chaos with all kinds of misinformation floating around. Attempting to stem a rising panic, authorities were telling news outlets that there was not an active shooter but for everyone in the area to remain indoors. Amanda texted me saying she heard the shooter was on the roof of one of the county buildings, and a deputy sheriff told me they were looking for multiple suspects. 

Even with my County badge I was not allowed to enter the building. Furthermore, I had only taken my cell phone with me— my wallet, keys and other personal belongings were all on the second floor, literally leaving me stranded. Worse yet, I wasn't permitted to stay in the parking lot and was forced to completely evacuate the area. At this point, I couldn't even call 911 for help!   

I felt like a sitting duck because there was so much uncertainty and nowhere to seek shelter. With the amount of gunfire being exchanged, I knew there was a good probability that I could be hit by a stray bullet. Meanwhile, another coworker, Richard, called and said he was locked in a Coldwell Banker office down the street. He had been running errands on his lunch break and was now trapped there indefinitely. 

Mercifully, the relentless shooting stopped and an eerie calm descended over the area. A thousand thoughts swirled in my head and I was trying to determine if the silence meant the shooter was dead or that he had escaped?

Chris was keeping in close contact with me, but unfortunately the shootout occurred in a part of the complex where we didn't have good camera coverage so it was difficult to tell what was happening.

But, slowly the details began to reveal themselves.

The lone suspect was identified as 59-year-old David Ray Wyrick of Eden, North Carolina. A lifelong felon, he racked up 9 criminal charges between 1983-2000. In 2003, he shot and killed a man claiming self-defense and was convicted of involuntary manslaughter. However, he was released just 3 months later in February 2004. Between 2007-2024, he accumulated five more criminal charges although no details are available. 

His behavior became increasingly erratic in 2025 after he reportedly began "putting boulders in the roadway and tampering with fire hydrants" in Key Largo, Florida. When confronted by authorities, he attempted to stab one with a pocket knife and then hit another in the face with a homemade metal pipe affixed with a rusty nail in it. Despite being charged with a litany of offenses such as attempted manslaughter, aggravated assault with a deadly weapon, aggravated battery on a law enforcement officer, possession of a firearm by a convicted felon and resisting arrest with violence, he was somehow back home in Swansboro, North Carolina by October 2025.  

In November, a warrant was issued for his arrest for a probation violation stemming from the Key West incident. Among his identifying characteristics were a cross tattoo on his chest, a sun with a cross on his right arm, and “One Judge” on his back. He was apprehended in Canada on January 21, 2026 although it's not clear how or why he was able to make his way to Pascagoula on April 16th.  

He quickly stole a white Chevrolet Silverado from a construction site just two blocks over from the County Complex. With two propane tanks in the truck bed, he crashed the vehicle into a fence surrounding the dispatch communications tower and a  big yellow diesel tank. He then proceeded to set the propane tanks on fire in hopes of creating a catastrophic explosion that would engulf downtown, killing hundreds of people and causing millions in damage. 

Wyrick's Formula for Maximum Carnage: Propane + Truck (Gasoline) x Diesel = BIG BOOM!  

Luckily, an inmate was outside the Sheriff's office washing the vehicles when he saw Wyrick ram the fence. Ironically, I had just walked in that building an hour earlier to help Carolyn Lewis, one of the assistant district attorneys, with a printer problem. 

We have a camera positioned at the entrance of the Sheriff's office, so afterwards I was able to watch the inmate excitedly rush in and summon help. Initially, I don't believe they realized it was a terrorist act and instead thought the crash was accidental. You can see the skepticism in the two deputies body language as they reluctantly walk outside to see what the inmate is wildly gesticulating about. One is even casually drinking a can of Coca-Cola. A few seconds later, a female deputy sprints out the front door and within the next minute she is joined by several more officers. After that, all hell breaks loose.

It was inspiring, yet also frightening, to see detectives I've worked closely with charge unselfishly into that danger zone. Jerry is an investigator who works on the second floor and has a beautiful wife. He didn't have to get involved, but he was one of the first to rush outside with his pistol in his hand. Same with Hema, a female deputy who typically conducts Taser training. She has a husband and two sons, yet she also risked her life to protect everyone else. It's terrifying to think they could have lost their lives to something as senseless as this. To me, that is the definition of a true hero.    

A couple times, Sheriff John Ledbetter is seen, but there's no way to tell how embroiled he was in the conflict. However, former Sheriff Mike Byrd (who served from 2000-2013) was quite enthusiastic in prosecuting lawbreakers in Jackson County. He's most renowned for a 2012 highway chase in which he apprehended the fleeing suspect by shooting out his rear tire at 85 mph. Regrettably, his legacy was tarnished by what many what consider to be typical Southern corruption— he was indicted on a total of 29 felony and 2 misdemeanor charges for such things as using his office to retaliate against perceived enemies, ordering deputies and office staff to raise money for private causes, concealing a shooting at a county narcotics task force office, pressuring witnesses to falsely testify before a grand jury, punishing a female deputy who rebuffed his sexual advances, and perhaps most humorously, demanding free lawn mower repair. Despite that, he was quite beloved in the community and had a reputation for always trying to help people. In fact, he was instrumental in getting my Mother her Concealed Carry permit. After a brief sentence consisting of six months of home confinement and six months of probation, he passed away to Covid in 2020. 

Although details (and camera footage) are sketchy, Wyrick apparently exchanged fire with authorities before getting pinned down behind a brick building on our property. I don't know how many shots he fired, but thankfully none of our personnel were harmed. However, the same cannot be said for him as it was reported that between 50-150 shots were fired by officers consisting of the Sheriff's Department, Pascagoula Police Department and the Narcotics Task Force, whose office is directly across the street. One individual I spoke with who viewed the bodycam footage stated that Wyrick would not surrender and even after sustaining several non-lethal injuries, simply refused to stay down, compelling law-enforcement to fill him with more lead than a fleet of Teslas.

Wyrick earned a First-Class Ticket to Hell when he tried to blow-up Pascagoula. 

As such, it appears that Wyrick chose death by Firing Squad, a method that is indeed a legal form of execution in Mississippi, although it hasn't been used since the early 1900s.  Interestingly, only four other states (South Carolina, Idaho, Oklahoma and Utah) employ it for Capital Punishment. By his actions, Wyrick inadvertently joined Brad Sigmon from South Carolina who was also killed by Firing Squad on March 7th. It's the the first use of that technique in the U.S. since 2010 and was specifically chosen because Sigmon deemed it preferable to the electric chair and lethal injection. 

In regards to whether or not a Firing Squad is more humane, it is considered the quickest and least complicated form of execution. For instance, the sole research on this subject (conducted in Utah in 1938) determined that death occurred in under a minute while lethal injection takes a minimum of seven minutes and electrocution can last between two to fifteen minutes. Although it's not known the type of bullets used on Wyrick, Sigmon was shot with .308 Winchester Tap Urban bullets. Known colloquially as "Hollow Points" these rounds are specifically designed for rapid fragmentation, which creates a large, entrance wound for maximum damage while reducing the risk of collateral injury after exiting the body. In considering their application for Firing Squad use, one left-wing writer opined that "Medical experts have debated the amount of pain they may cause." For Sigmon, I believe the suffering would be very brief and less excruciating than the gruesome way he bludgeoned an elderly husband and wife to death with a baseball bat.                      

A view of the crime scene with the large diesel tank Wyrick unsuccessfully attempted to ignite. 

 

I asked Carole Anne, the Coroner's Assistant, about the amount of times Wyrick was allegedly hit and if it was close to the 9 times announced online (chin, both arms, both legs and hips). She admitted that they hadn't done the full autopsy yet, but did confirm that it was at least 5 or 6 times with some wounds potentially overlapping.  

As far as I've heard, there was no suicide note or motive other than one isolated account where it was claimed he was yelling the name, "Pete Pope" who was the Jackson County Sheriff from 1988 until 2000. This discovery potentially creates more questions than answers but is seemingly all we're left with as this chapter is irrevocably closed. To name-drop such an obscure reference would seemingly indicate that Wyrick had some previous contact with the former Sheriff and it likely did not end well. However, online records indicate that as far back as 1986 he was a resident of North Carolina so if there was an altercation, it seems likely he was just visiting.  

Otherwise, the complete randomness of him showing up in Pascagoula and attempting to blow up the County Complex at noon on a Thursday is mind-boggling. Surely, no criminal expert would accuse him of any extensive premeditation. Instead, it seems more like an impulsive crime of opportunity, perhaps motivated by mental illness.       

An examination of the few, available facts point solely to one conclusion and it's that David Ray Wyrick was a very unstable individual, quite possibly from birth. A documented history of violence as early as his teenage years was the precursor to four-decades of lawlessness that culminated with his death. The judicial system failed him and us in that he never received appropriate treatment and was simply allowed to avoid any lengthy incarceration.             

In the immediate aftermath, employees were sequestered for safety until every office in every building was searched and confirmed to be secure. Some were reportedly traumatized by having to walk past the body as they were escorted to their cars. For reasons unclear, Wyrick's corpse remained in the parking lot until nearly 8 PM.

I was eventually picked up on the side of the road by two girls from the Tax Collector office who had heard it was finally safe to return. Suddenly, we were no longer acquaintances who barely spoke when passing in the halls, but now family due to the horrible ordeal we had survived together. It's sad to say, but chaos really does unite people. Then they told me about one woman who was so desperate to get her car tag that she refused to leave when they were ordered to evacuate. Apparently, the possibility of getting shot was more desirable than having to wait in that line again! 

Honestly, I didn't expect to be affected by the whole ordeal as deeply as I was, and I even had trouble falling asleep that night. When I finally did, it was restless and uneasy. The next morning as I awoke, I had one singular thought:

I was just grateful to be alive.

2015 Hyundai Santa Fe Sport Turbo 200,000 Mile Review

 

Bicentennial Blowout🎂

2015 Hyundai Santa Fe Sport Turbo 200,000 Mile Review

 

Pirate Press               February 2026

More Popular than the Epstein Files.

 

Admittedly, I've had a lot of special cars over the years, but our Hyundai marks the first one that we've actually managed to pile all the miles on ourselves. Both my 1985 Honda Accord and 1992 Saturn SL1 each had over 200,000 respectively but they were family hand-me-downs whereby my parents accumulated roughly half the mileage themselves. But with our Hyundai, Amanda has logged 90% herself with Victoria and I rounding out the rest. Funny enough, the Santa Fe was actually the vehicle Victoria learned to drive on since she couldn't handle the manual five-speed in the Red Line and the Corvette was way too powerful for her. The running joke is that a manual transmission is now seen as a "Gen-Z Anti-Theft Device" but Victoria actually did one better than that during her first test drive of a standard car: Accustomed solely to the push-button start in the Hyundai, she didn't even know what to do when handed the the ignition key. 

Of course, she hated driving the Santa Fe as it was too big, heavy and cumbersome for her. Likewise, she treated her twelve months in it like she was serving a prison sentence. However, even after ten years and 200,000 miles the Hyundai is still remarkably trouble free; the turbocharged 2.0-liter continues to pull with authority, the fuel economy routinely hits 30 mpg and it's completely free of any worrisome creaks or groans. 

 

  

However, I've always been amused by the global incongruity of our Santa Fe— a vehicle sold by a Korean automaker, designed in Europe, built in Alabama and named after the capital of New Mexico. It's a mind-boggling genealogy to be sure but I suppose not so unusual in our interconnected world where everything is now sourced abroad, like blueberries from Chile and crab meat from Vietnam. Logistically, it would seem cheaper (and easier) to procure the blueberries from Georgia and crab from the Gulf but what do I know about economics? I spent my junior college days in Econ II cheating off a girl named Kathy so I'm clearly not qualified to tell multi-billion dollar companies how to acquire and distribute their products for maximum profitability. Furthermore, I certainly didn't think that almost 40 years later I would be pondering Economies of Scale or else I'd payed more attention. 

 

Despite that, our Santa Fe has been a solid investment even though there have been some bumps along the 200,000-mile highway.

 

We purchased it brand new in February 2015 ostensibly because it offered the best domestic warranty in the industry: 5 years/60,000 miles bumper-to-bumper and 10 years/10,000 miles powertrain. After our Ford fiasco, I wasn't making the same mistake twice. But a decade ago, there was still some automotive prejudice present and genuine disbelief that I bought a brand-new Hyundai. I'm proud to say that's no longer the case as Hyundai, the automotive company, has proven itself time and time again over the past ten years. Despite a collapsing world economy, they continue to grow and expand, most recently reporting four years of consecutive record-breaking revenue and bringing total sales up 10% when most other automaker's sales have declined. 

 

Of course, it would be unfair to pigeon-hole Hyundai merely as a staid, boring family-car business since their N-Line division has some serious performance cred. In fact, their Ioniq 5 is so good that Motor Trend recently had a comparison between it and a 2025 Corvette before crowning Hyundai the winner! That's right, the Ioniq SUV beat the Corvette in every performance metric including horsepower, 0-60, Quarter-Mile, Braking Distance, Lateral Acceleration and was even $10,000 cheaper despite weighing some 1,300 lbs. more.     

 

Although it's primarily Amanda's car and I don't drive it often, I do have a couple instances where I embarrassed supposedly better, faster cars in much the same way the Ioniq surprised the Corvette. 

 

Two months after we purchased our Santa Fe, the first oil change was called for at 3,000 miles. This was my initial disappointment with our Santa Fe as I discovered that our turbocharged engine required an oil and filter change every 5,000 miles while the naturally-aspirated version managed to go an extra 2,500 miles before requiring the same procedure. Over 200,000 miles that meant we had an extra 14 oil changes which added around $1500 to the total depreciation.  

 

Just after cracking 10,000 miles in September 2015, I noticed Amanda had picked up a nail in her right front tire so that malady was repaired and we went on our merry way. 

 

Our new-car, honeymoon period ended nearly a year later in August 2016 when the left rear ABS wheel speed sensor died at just 28,000 miles. It was a premature failure for sure and was replaced under warranty. Since it was so close to the 30,000-mile annual service, we opted to pay to replace the engine air filter and cabin air filter in addition to the routine synthetic oil change. 

 

In January 2017, we received our first recall which was for a Turbo Oil Supply Pipe Leak, also something that didn't affect regular Santa Fe models. Essentially, a manufacturing defect in the oil feed pipe joint made it susceptible to cracking which could lead to oil leaks and a potential fire hazard in the engine bay. I've seen several million-dollar Ferrari F40s burn to the ground due to similar problems so I'm glad this was caught and remedied early. While in the service bay, an observant technician noticed the battery's voltage was below normal and replaced it under warranty also. Even though we hadn't noticed any sluggish cranking or other symptoms, I was nonetheless thrilled to get a brand-new OEM battery at 35,000 miles. 

 

A couple months later at 40,000 miles, Amanda picked up a foreign object in a different tire, thus necessitating another sealant plug. 

 

In June 2017, the right rear ABS wheel sensor failed less than a year after the left one. It was similarly replaced under warranty but it left me wondering if at some point the other two would also malfunction? 

 

2017 was certainly shaping up to be a busy year for warranty repairs as that Summer we were again summoned to the dealership for a faulty secondary hood latch cable that could corrode and fail to remain closed. Without remediation, this could cause the hood to fly open unexpectedly while driving which I found wildly hilarious. However, Amanda did not share my same sense of humor so it was promptly fixed. 

 

At 45,000 miles, I was again reminded why I hate our Turbo model because it was already time to replace the spark plugs, something not required on the base model until 90,000. It seemed extremely premature but to keep the factory warranty intact I acquiesced and paid the money, a whopping $47.40 for four Autolite Iridium plugs and $95 in labor.

 

In January 2018 and just shy of 60,000 miles, I opted to go ahead and replace both air filters while it was in for the oil change. Changing the cabin filter is a little more involved and was $16 in labor versus $15 for the engine one. That notwithstanding, the Santa Fe possesses the easiest engine air filter of any vehicle I've ever owned and literally takes 30 seconds to pop the latches and drop a new one in so the labor charge is pure profit. Strangely, the smaller cabin filter was $26.11 while the larger engine filter was only $20.98. It was also the first time we had to buy new wiper blades ($57.99 for parts & labor) as the factory ones had held up remarkably well. I've long maintained that those are made from better materials and are far superior to the ones you can even buy at the dealership. This experience simply reinforced that belief even more. 

 

A month later, I discovered a worrisome engine stumble while idling in a parking lot. It was diagnosed as a damaged ignition coil and replaced under the 100K powertrain warranty. And as has become customary,  the avaricious service advisors always seem to unearth something not covered by the warranty that needs fixing. In this case, it was new brake pads and rotors although I did succeed in negotiating to have the rotors resurfaced rather than buying new ones which saved me a few dollars. Even so, it was still a $427.28 hit with it being divided up to $280 labor and $109.98 in parts.

 

Unfortunately, the erratic idle returned and I was back 1,500 miles later. This time the culprit was identified as an errant spark plug and it was also replaced under warranty.

 

Everything was lollipops and rainbows for approximately six months until we undertook a trip to Atlanta for Halloween 2018. It was dark and the weather was terrible as we attempted to navigate the vehicular congestion on I-85. I was concentrating on the torrential rain and traffic when Amanda asked if the noise she heard was coming from our vehicle. I assured her that it wasn't and that it had to be coming from one of the cars around us. Yet, despite being in childcare and listening to screaming kids for twenty years, she inexplicably still has better hearing then me. Eventually, the knocking became so pronounced that even I heard it and it was soon joined by a barrage of frightening orange and red dashboard lights that are never a good sign.  

 

I coaxed the Santa Fe to our hotel as the mechanical surging and bucking intensified while the forward momentum drastically declined. Being metro Atlanta, there was luckily a Hyundai dealership a few blocks from our hotel and I was able to limp it there before it literally died in the service department aisle.  

                  

The diagnosis was swift and fatal: Like a "Window Maker" heart attack, oil starvation in the engine passages caused it to completely seize up. That ominous knocking that Amanda had first heard was the moribund "Death Rattle" of the engine in it's final throes.

 

The official explanation blamed the malady on metal debris from the crankshaft deburring process which clogged the oil passages and accelerated the bearing wear to the ultimate point of total failure. Much to Hyundai's chagrin, it affected over one million models built between 2011 to 2014. Even worse, I brought this up to my local Hyundai dealership's attention early on in our ownership because I was concerned about the unusual oil consumption and excessive carbon soot on the exhaust pipes. However, my fears were quickly dismissed by an irresponsible mechanic who claimed it was "normal" for a new, direct-injection engine. But without access to any elemental spectroscopy to identify abnormal metal wear in the oil, I blindly trusted his (supposedly) professional assessment.  

 

Despite that, the warranty I had so carefully protected with each and every overpriced service visit finally paid off when Hyundai put us in a long-term Santa Fe loaner and replaced the engine and turbocharger. By various invoices I saw, I later calculated that it would have cost me roughly $3,000 for the rental car use and $10,000 for the new engine and turbo during the 14 weeks our Santa Fe was out of commission.

 

But those 3.5 months with a Santa Fe rental were some of the most liberating of my life as I was only responsible for putting fuel in it. As such, we deliberately drove it as much as possible including a whole loop of Texas and a trip to Disney World. Thankfully, it was unlimited mileage and we racked up over 7,000 miles with it— essentially enough distance to circumnavigate the entire United States.    

 

Two months and 2,000 miles later in our renewed Santa Fe, our local dealer performed an ECU update and fuel pipe inspection under warranty. The new engine was humming along beautifully and the only thing I had to do was add a few ounces of antifreeze.

 

The next 18 months were thankfully uneventful, with only the rotors requiring resurfacing and an errant rock necessitating a new windshield. These items clearly fall under the heading of routine maintenance and plain ole bad luck so it was nothing we could fault the Hyundai for. Safelite dutifully came to Amanda's job and replaced the windshield there. It cost $401.22 to install it and $65 for the service call but fortunately we've never needed a new one since then.   

 

At 90,000 in January 2020 our second battery failed so it was technically the first one we had to buy for the Santa Fe. Even so, it seems the longevity of automotive batteries is getting shorter and shorter while prices continue to expand. A new Interstate unit cost $103 and the dealership charged $25 for labor.

 

A visit to the abandoned Ferrari dealership in 2020.

  

In the Summer of 2020, just shy of 95,000 miles, we experienced our first unusual item breakage. The plastic piece that surrounds the driver seat suddenly broke in the middle. Of course, the part itself and the labor to replace it was outrageous so I simply wrapped enough electrical tape around it to hold it in place. It was admittedly not the most elegant solution but it worked well and cost nothing except a little time and ingenuity. Regardless, it was the first (of many) bizarre foibles that the Hyundai would develop over the next five years.  

       

For Valentine's 2021, Cupid wasn't kind to us and were forced to resurface the rotors (again) as well as replace the brake pads at 110,000 miles for $297.46. 

 

Unbelievably, just 3,000 miles later the Santa Fe was back in the shop for more brake pads and new calipers. The hillbilly tire shop around the corner from our house didn't fix the problem so we had to take it to another place to get it done correctly. We made the mistake of choosing a tire shop for convenience when we should have based it on competence. Due to the uneven wear, we also replaced all four tires which escalated the repair costs tremendously to $828.91.

 

The unprofessional appearance should have been our first clue to avoid this place!

 

Mercifully, we had almost a full year of trouble-free operation before new rotors were required at 128,000. 

 

In the fall of 2022, the Santa Fe was nearly 100,000 miles OVER the recommended spark plug change. Remember, Hyundai has an usually stringent maintenance interval which dictates replacing them every 45,000 miles. But despite having 94,000 miles on them, the plugs looked remarkably fresh with a clean, even burn and a gap still well within factory tolerances. As such, it seems Hyundai's service cycle is extremely conservative, leaning more toward dealership revenue than actual mechanical necessity. I replaced them myself and saved roughly $250 over what the dealership quoted me, despite a dishonest service advisor who claimed the cost was due to the Santa Fe having six spark plugs! He checked the vehicle in and knew it was a turbocharged four-cylinder but hoped the blatant lie would facilitate his knavery. Following that exchange we never visited that dealership again.     

 

For Spring 2023, I was greeted with the first burned-out headlight bulb. Of course, this was due to the always-on DRLs which I detest. I think headlights during the day are stupid unless you're in a funeral procession or inclement weather but Amanda is a creature of convenience and thus prefers leaving the headlights on "Auto" instead of "DRL OFF." So, the embrace of indolence directly translates to premature failure as the bulb's life cycle is drastically shortened by the constant use. And as the old aphorism states, "They Don't Make Them Like They Used To" so changing out the bulb is immensely involved since there's virtually no room to access it without removing the entire front bumper. Predictably, my pleas to leave the DRLs disabled fell on deaf ears as the next time i drove it I had to turn them off again! 

 

In September 2023, we were again required to replace the battery with the previous one lasting us almost 4 years and 70,000 miles. However, inflation meant that our Walmart EverStart budget battery with free installation now ended up costing us $153.82, a considerable price hike over the much better Interstate battery we purchased from the dealership.     

 

The following month, we had one of the strangest automotive ailments to date, whereby the rear brake lights stayed on and refused to go off. It was traced to a faulty brake light switch. At the same time, the third wheel speed sensor was replaced and the air-conditioning was refilled with R-134a refrigerant. Since it was no longer under warranty, we actually had to pay for this speed sensor and it was $82.99 for the part and $55.70 for the labor. I recently discovered a high-school classmate that has his own automotive business so this was performed there. He also charged me a flat $60 to remove and replace the brake light switch and $40 for the A/C.  

 

At Christmas 2023, Santa didn't bring me a new passenger side low-beam bulb but I still had to change it out, meaning both had to be replaced within 9 months.   

 

In February 2024 at 171,000 miles, we were caught outside New Orleans in one of the single worst storms I've ever driven in. Ironically, we wouldn't have even been over there had we not met Tyler Florence and participated in an episode of The Great Food Truck Race. The hail was so bad that it literally ripped the paint off the hood but thankfully it didn't crack the windshield.

 

The icy projectiles stripped the paint down to the bare metal. 

  

It was also around this time that the brake pedal began sticking and wouldn't release. This normally wouldn't be an issue except that Hyundai has the Santa Fe programmed to not crank unless the brake pedal is fully depressed. At one point, it got so bad that Amanda was stalled at work for thirty minutes before she got it started. This went on for a couple weeks while none of the recommendations on the internet worked. Finally, in a fit of pure frustration and rage one day after a particularly stressful day at work, Amanda stomped the brake pedal as hard as she possible could and it actually fixed it! Unbelievably, that unorthodox method did the trick and the issue hasn't returned.  

 

Just 30 days later, Amanda put the "Break" in "Spring Break" by running over a huge bolt that punctured the sidewall of the rear tire. She pulled over and called me, explaining that the tire was losing pressure so fast she couldn't keep driving on it. I met her in the parking lot of a Dollar General and aired it back up to 30 PSI, the most it would hold as it was badly hemorrhaging air. She then drove as fast as possible towards the closest tire shop, strategically stopping several times for me to temporarily reinflate the tire. Thankfully, she didn't get stopped by a State Trooper for her highly illegal speeds, but if she had, she thankfully possessed the visual evidence to back up her wild scenario of trying to outrun the tire's rapid deflation. A new economy tire at Wal-Mart cost $95 but with installation, taxes and various disposal fees it ballooned to $135.03 before Amanda was able to drive off. 

 

Our factory spare tire was used until a new replacement was ready.  

 

Since Summer was right around the corner and the Santa Fe's air-conditioning was feeling tepid, we spent $50 on another refrigerant recharge at my buddy's shop. Amazingly, it kept it cool throughout both brutally hot summers of 2024 and 2025.

 

In the fall of 2024 and with 180,000 on the odometer, the Hyundai developed two outlandish new complications I've never witnessed before: When attempting to slightly recline the driver's seat, Amanda accidentally pressed the wrong button and the seat became stuck in a bolt upright position. No matter how hard I pushed against it, the seat refused to budge and it left me wistfully yearning for the simplicity of a manual seatback. Secondly, the fuel-filler door release, bizarrely located in the inside driver door handle, began to stick and eventually quit working altogether, forcing Amanda to desperately pry it open with the ignition key at a gas station. I did some research and discovered that there was a manual release in the trunk for just such an occasion, so for the past year we've had to access it through the rear hatch every time we fill it up.              

 

But the idiotic obstacles didn't stop there. At 182,000 I was forced to replace the hood struts as the pressurized gas had all leaked out and the hood wouldn't stay open. Hyundai famously wanted $296 dollars for both OEM supports but I found an aftermarket version on RockAuto for just $8 apiece. I installed them myself in under 10 minutes and saved another $100 in dealership labor costs. I understand the luxury factor and appeal of automatic hood struts, but while the Fusion's manual prop rod is not nearly as sophisticated or pretty, it's certainly more practical and I never have to worry about it not working.  

 

1000 miles later, the Santa Fe developed an infuriatingly tiny pinhole leak in one of the radiator hoses which was too small to see but large enough to require almost daily doses of pricey Peak antifreeze. Additionally, the amount ingested would vary wildly from one day to the next with there being no rhyme or reason for the sporadic consumption. Hence, a ten-mile drive might see the level drop dangerously low while it remained unaffected by a 500-mile drive to Disney.

 

On December 1st 2024, I replaced the engine air filter just in time to race a BMW a few weeks later on Christmas eve. We were driving on I-10 when I noticed a white BMW rapidly approaching from behind. I was already doing 80+ in the left lane and there were several cars in front of me so I couldn't speed up anymore. However, here was some entitled young punk who thought he owned the road because he was driving a BMW, never mind that it was a lowly 228i with less power than our Hyundai. Despite that, he tried to pass me in the right lane so I quickly sped up to close the gap, a common cock-block maneuver that helps passholes like him cool their heels and reflect on the futility of their actions. Angered by this, he furiously swung right in behind me and began tailgating. I patiently waited for the vehicles in front of me to move over, and when the lane in front of me was clear, I dropped the hammer on him. By the time he realized what had happened, I had a full two-second head start and our  TD04HL4S turbocharger was shotgunning 15 PSI down the greedy gullet of the intake manifold. The BMW frantically tried to keep up, but with 240hp to our 264hp he simply couldn't catch us. Wary of cops and quickly approaching the Santa Fe's ridiculously-low 125-mph governor, I moved over into the right lane and gently tapped the brakes to let him know I was voluntarily ending the race. Hell hath no fury like the damaged ego of a bitter BMW fanboy who just got his ass handed to him by a 10 year-old, 200,000-mile Hyundai SUV!            

 

Our Santa Fe sauntered on through 2025 with just the usual minor maintenance items (tire rotation, two oil changes, etc.) until December when I could no longer ignore the tires which were getting dangerously bald. Originally rated for 60K miles, they now had 100K on them and I was worried about Amanda hydroplaning in the rain. To that effect, I decided on a huge 200K Tune-Up that would cost over $1000 but would include four brand new Goodyear tires, plus a new engine air-filter, Michelin wiper blades, a bottle of fuel-system cleaner and a fresh oil change.    

 

Alongside "The World's Largest Rocking Chair" in August 2025. 

  

With all of that completed by Christmas, I was feeling great about the prospect of keeping the Santa Fe possibly to 300,000. But fate had other ideas, as just two weeks later a guy ran through an intersection and plowed directly into us, spinning us around until a light pole acted as an ersatz arrestor. Had the metal stanchion not been there, we would have struck a car in the other lane. Thankfully, we weren't hurt but this was the third automobile that's been totaled in our household in just 13 months. It was also quite an undignified end to such a wonderful and reliable vehicle. 

 

R.I.P. January 3rd 2026.
        

Despite that, I'm trying to frame it as a blessing in disguise because there's no denying that with 215,352 miles on the odometer it was literally a ticking time bomb. The rebuilt engine had 145,000 on it and none of the other components (transmission, fuel pump, water pump, alternator, etc.) had ever been replaced. Furthermore, we had a huge laundry list of daily issues like an ABS wheel-speed sensor, oxygen sensor, coolant leak, oil-burning problem and it needed new brake pads and rotors. So, while I did have to eat the cost of the brand new tires, I managed to save a small fortune by not fixing the other items.

 

For now, we have to give the keys back to Enterprise as the standard rate is an outrageous $80 per day and for $2400/month I could lease something really exciting like a Ferrari. 

 

So, what did we learn from ten years and 215,532 miles in our Santa Fe? 

 

First and foremost, the gamble on a brand-new Hyundai (and it's standard 100,000-mile warranty) paid off in spades with the free replacement of an OEM battery, ignition coil, spark plug, two wheel speed sensors, a turbocharger and an entirely new engine. 

 

Secondly, it's not advisable to pay for any work at the dealership unless you're absolutely certain you need it to keep the factory warranty.

 

And finally, while the prices I quoted for services rendered at the dealership seem excessive, rest assured they're even more expensive now as prices have skyrocketed since Covid in 2020. Whenever possible, try to find an independent mechanic you trust and build a relationship with them. In the long run, such a connection can save you thousands over the lifespan of a vehicle.

 

As for us, we're now on the hunt for another vehicle. 

 

Wish us luck (we're sure gonna need it)!