Car hunt takes patience, keen eye

"Roll-up windows? You've got to be kidding."

Margaret Toljagic, my immodest better half, had just finished walking around the 2000 Honda Accord I had brought home during a test drive. She wrinkled her nose like I'd just parked a 1,400 kg wedge of pungent cheese in the sun.

"No, take it back. I'm not going to ride around in something a high-school kid would drive," Her Highness pronounced as she retreated into the house.

It had all started when I decided to explore Toronto's reputed dark and seedy underbelly – by going used-car shopping.

My three kids had quickly outgrown our 1995 Dodge Stealth coupe, signalling it was time to get a roomy four-door sedan, a conveyance befitting a dad's school-shuttle duties.

The Stealth had proven difficult to sell privately. I had only two parties show up at my driveway, and the best offer was a measly $3,500 as is.

Sadly, this car never found a sizable following in Canada, so I was relegated to trading it in at a used-car lot. That meant I would have to bypass the private sales and play hardball with the dealers.

This wasn't going to be fun, I muttered into my morning bran flakes.

It helped that I knew what I wanted: a four-cylinder, four-door sedan with a manual transmission. Gas wasn't getting any cheaper, and our aging Mercury Villager minivan was capable of sucking the Sarnia refineries dry if given all of our family's driving assignments.

I started by looking online at various models. The Accord rose quickly to the top of my list. It possesses that Honda lightness of being that makes even a trip to the milk store a delight.

I had a budget of about $10,000, including my trade, which put me on target for a 2000 model. So when I spotted a gold Accord on a neighbourhood lot displaying $6,995 on the windshield, I was all ears.

It was a base DX model with 160,000 km on the clock. The car was in decent shape and drove well, absorbing potholes with little drama. The motor sounded healthy; the DX used the non-VTEC engine (Honda's variable-valve timing), but it felt reasonably alert with the stick shift.

I probably would have bought it on the spot if it was up to me, but Margaret put the kibosh on that. The car had only the bare essentials (radio and air conditioning), while my spouse harboured illusions of grandeur.

"I think we're at a point in our lives where we can afford something better," she said. So back it went, and I was left sifting through our budget for more cash.

While there's no shortage of used vehicles in Toronto, manual-transmission cars are getting harder to find. I started searching farther afield.

I went to Mississauga to look at a 2003 Toyota Camry SE. For $12,998 it had a frugal four-cylinder engine, requisite five-speed stick, alloy wheels and leather interior with heated front seats.

It seemed too good to be true – and it was.

Lifting the hood, I spotted a brand-new radiator and headlights. Even though the engine had been shampooed, it wasn't hard to discern that the front end had been rebuilt after a collision.

"Uh, yes, the car has been repaired," replied the salesman, "but it was a small accident, less than $5,000 damage. I don't think we have to report minor accidents."

The car drove well enough, but it was a Camry. What was missing was the Accord's joie de vivre. Then there was the issue of my trade-in.

"Dodge Stealth? I don't even know what that is," the salesman responded, reaching for his cellphone. He called his auto appraiser, who would educate him rapidly.

"I can offer you $3,000," he told me a few minutes later. "How much did you expect to get for it?"

"I was hoping for at least $5,000," I responded cheerlessly.

"If it was a turbo model, maybe," he replied, suddenly displaying intimate knowledge of all things Stealth. "But these are hard to sell. Nobody knows these cars and insurance is expensive, especially for young people."

"I'll give you $3,500 for it, but you're better off selling it yourself."

The low trade-in value was a given. A 1995 model is too old to qualify for bank financing, so the dealer could only sell it for cash. I left, realizing the Stealth was a millstone around my neck.

I visited some of Toronto's used-car "superstores," essentially big industrial units crammed with cars parked bumper to bumper inside. While it makes for comfortable shopping in winter, it's not easy negotiating a test drive.

"Before I pull it out for you, let's see if you can afford it," a saleswoman said to me after I inquired about a 2003 Honda Accord EX-L sandwiched between a Mercedes and a Nissan Pathfinder.

I told her I would be paying cash and trading in a Stealth.

"A what?" she responded, reaching for her phone.

This time it was a call to the corner office. The sales manager peppered her with questions about my car. Exasperated, I asked her to have him go outside to see for himself. He reluctantly obliged.

"That's only the second time in my life I've seen him come out of his office to look at a car," she told me under her breath. The verdict was in: $3,500 trade-in allowance.

The rep granted me a test drive. It took 10 minutes to move the cars around and free the Accord. It was a crimson beauty with tan-coloured leather and heated seats. And it had only 64,000 km on it.

My spidey sense started tingling. In the sunshine I could see that the rear bumper had been repaired – there was evidence of overspray – but she readily dismissed it. "Minor stuff. It's hardly worth reporting."

I took it out on the highway. The car was quick and smooth, although as soon as the 2.4-litre engine got up to operating temperature, the Check Engine light came on. I made a beeline back to the lot.

The sales rep seemed surprised and assured me her technicians would pore over the car and make it right. She tried to lead me back to her cubicle to finish the deal.

I was suspicious, fearing the problem might be a bad catalytic converter or another expensive fix. I hastily excused myself, although I did leave her my number to let me know the diagnosis. I made a note that they would blame a loose gas cap. Later that day, the rep called: "The Accord is fixed now. It was just a loose gas cap."

And so it went.

I kept finding cars that looked good at first, but I'd always learn something unsettling.

There was a black Accord that had come from Quebec, where accident disclosure laws are different. And another one for which the sales agent had trouble printing off the accident report. He mumbled something about some "minor damage." We left.

Finally, I found another 2003 Accord EX-L in the appealing red/tan combo. And it was well priced at $14,999 — with 117,000 km on it.

It was evident the previous owner had maintained it. It wore premium Michelins and the front brake rotors had been replaced with expensive drilled and slotted discs.

Through the dirt, however, I could see some paint was not quite as shiny as the rest of the car. Sure enough, the rear-quarter panel around the fuel door had been repaired. My heart sank.

"Oh, that's a small repair," the salesman responded predictably. He showed us the CarFax report. It was spotless; there was no record of any accidents.

"The owner probably had it fixed privately and didn't involve his insurance," explained the sales rep. "That stuff doesn't get picked up in the report."

Rather than walk out, however, I wanted to learn more about the car.

I wrote down the VIN and bought the Used Vehicle Information Package from a ServiceOntario kiosk for $20. The government report acknowledged it was a one-owner car, leased from Honda Canada Finance for four years.

A call to the original Honda dealer confirmed the car had been fastidiously maintained and there were no outstanding recalls. The mileage lined up with the dealer's records.

I was still anxious about the body repair, so I phoned the former owner (he was on Canada411.com, a Yellow Pages site with more than 12 million listings) and left a message.

He called the next morning.

He assured me it had been a minor fender bender that cost "in the hundreds, not thousands," to fix, and also volunteered that the car had been very reliable.

With that, I returned to close the deal. Yes, the car had taken its lumps over the years, but I felt confident it had been well looked after and the "creased fender" incident had not compromised its structural integrity.

I ended up paying $13,500, after the sales rep generously allowed me $3,746 for my Stealth.

I had spent considerably more than I originally intended, but at least Her Highness didn't have to roll up her window by hand.