2003 Honda CR-V: Desperate Car Shopping in 2025 – A Hopeless Hooptie Adventure

I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time detailing my friends’ cars and sometimes fixing / breaking them. They’re largely hand-me-down desperation-mobiles, but that makes their stories even more CC-worthy. You see, budget car shoppers are much more likely today to end up with, say, a 2000s Lexus than my own thrifty choice of an 80s diesel Mercedes. These cars may not be pretty, but if you dig deeper, they can offer the same sort of social commentary as those of true classics still doing daily driver duty that appear frequently in these digital pages.

I am by far and away the biggest car enthusiast in my group of friends. So I wasn’t exactly surprised to get a text from my least car obsessed friend (who hadn’t driven since getting a driver’s license last year), telling me he was doing used car shopping– basically my Bat Signal. Except this time, there was a twist. He had a miniscule budget and needed this car to (A) sit in a storage unit for three months, (B) fit all of his worldly possessions inside during this prolonged storage, and (C) immediately fire right up and move him 400 miles the day he gets back from a prolonged trip. And he had barely over a week to buy this car before the big day. Oh dear.

Fortunately, he already had a family friend connection willing to sell him a car and just wanted me to drive check it out with him. This ought to be interesting.

One thing to know about me before we begin is that I love hopeless automobiles. The more unloved and doomed they are, the more I want them to keep driving despite their circumstances. Earlier this year, I picked up a staggeringly unreliable Nissan 300ZX that has really tested this love of down on their luck cars. But it’s given me plenty of practice in ignoring all but the most serious problems and prioritizing fixes.

I am definitely biased in favor of challengingly decrepit cars, but what I was about to see was shocking, even to me.

A front wheel drive base model 2003 Honda CR-V with just a shade over 200,000 miles would ordinarily be a fantastic choice for my friend’s requirements. This particular one had tons of recent mechanical work addressing common age related failures such as gaskets, seals, and belts. However, it had some of the worst amateur bodywork I’ve ever seen performed on it. It’s difficult to imagine a more aesthetically ruined vehicle than this deeply sad automobile.

The story was that it was traded to an indie mechanic who was to work on it as partial payment towards a recently mechanically refreshed vehicle. Since then, the mechanic had most of the CR-V’s mechanical neglect reversed as a side project.

Importantly, the seller offered the insight that the staggeringly ugly body damage was there when the car was just two years old. I figured that if the Honda has held up long enough to age out of car childhood and even teen years, it’s got at least another year in it.

However, there were a few caveats besides its atrocious bodywork. The tailgate had the only working lock cylinder, and the windshield wipers flopped loosely about the windshield in a comically ineffective manner. Additionally, the interior was coated in dog hair and slobber, and the exterior looked like it hadn’t been washed in years. These problems didn’t trouble me much, though.

Still, I told my friend to buy it since very few other cars this cheap would come with so much as a fresh oil change, let alone a significant mechanical overhaul.

First up, give it a good clean. Starting, obviously, with the roof, as I wanted to see the dents clearer. I hadn’t made up my mind yet as to whether the car had been rolled or had merely scraped against the bottom of something low hanging.

As the coats of built up pine sap got washed off, I began to notice something odd. Literally every single surface of the sides of the car and roof was covered in skid marks and scrapes, but nothing was that badly crushed in. It must have fallen over into a particularly soft thicket of bushes at some point, leaving it disfigured but unexpectedly solid.

The goal was to thoroughly go through everything that isn’t ordinarily cleaned and wipe away decades of being the unloved third car used for dog transport duty. We even took the spare tire off to deep clean behind it.

It cleaned up well, but there’s no polishing a shine into gray primer over bondo. With a little work with the clay bar and the polisher, the few bits of un-ruined paint remaining did take a shine. I doubt that many vastly more deserving cars, also languishing at the rock bottom of their depreciation curves, will ever get a clean as thorough as this damaged CR-V got.

There was a moment after we finally finished deep cleaning the surprisingly intact interior when we sat back and realized we had made a massive oversight… It was late at night and pouring down with rain; yet, we had just spent 6 hours cleaning the car and had made no attempt to fix the windshield wipers. So the moment came when I had to send the “new” driver into the slowly lessening rain with ineffective wipers, but it was unavoidable.

The spit shine was far from the end of the help I had promised my friend on this car. After all, the car’s newly acquired cleanliness was mainly for motivation to fix its other problems. I still had four evenings of help to give to prepare for his move.

First up, the tragically floppy wipers. The linkage’s bushings had suffered from a small case of nonexistence, so we replaced them. The mechanism felt nice and tight afterwards, but we quickly realized the splines on the arms had been eroded down to nothing. Reducing the play in the system from about 2′ to a mere 8″ was still a win. The bodge repair would do for now.

Next up, safety. A full brake job including soft hoses on top of rotors and pads offers a lot of peace of mind. That takes a lot of time when you have to do it right as the light is failing, with a trunk full of basic hand tools and the world’s worst floor jack, but we eventually got it done.

The least straightforward part of the mechanical improvements was the locks. Replacing the passenger side took a long time due to a fiddly and unforgiving door handle design, but we eventually got it done. The driver’s side was even worse due to the bashed in door reducing the inside space to nearly nothing, and getting a hand in there was a true challenge, but eventually all the locks functioned.

And that was that. In the span of barely over a week, the car got purchased, cleaned, and the most glaring problems addressed, all ready to fulfill a duty no unproven bargain basement car should be called upon to perform. It might be ugly, but this CR-V is living up to its design intent as the all-purpose box on wheels.

I’m sure we’re all aware of how the price floor for a decent used car has risen in recent years. This ruined CR-V is what a truly cheap car looks like in today’s world. Gone are the slant 6 Plymouth Valiants with the bumpers rusting off and even the immortal diesel W123 Mercedes are retiring to garages (except for mine). Give it enough time and even this decrepit CR-V might stick it out long enough to become a curbside classic. For now, it’s merely a curbside hooptie.