Ridgeline Nation

I'm not sure why, but I love going to the scrapyard.  My introduction to it goes back about 25 years when the shop I was a mechanic at was moving.  My boss had piles of classic car treasures - meaning troves of useless used parts from defunct scrapped cars containing enough valuable gems that everything was worth saving ... until the time came to move.  He couldn't bear to part with them, so a few of us did near-daily runs to the scrap yard for a bit of extra cash.  It was always fun to see what else was in the pile of metal at the scrapyard - everything from shards of tire shredding junk to nearly pristine automobile engines from an R&D facility a few miles away.
Ever since then, I've always tried to save metal for recycling, if for no other reason than an excuse to visit the metal scrapyard.

At times this leaves me feeling like a meth-head.  I had a moderate amount of aluminum I was selling when the fuel pump on my F-150 went belly up.  Standing in line with the people selling stolen water pipes and small bits of wire was an experience.  It was not fun, after getting my cash, waiting for the tow truck to show up as it got darker and darker.  They typically don't put scrap yards in the best neighborhoods.

When moving to my current house, I had piles of metal to be recycled, including the body of an MGB I had to cut up with a tiger saw.  This was no meth-head operation, but quite the undertaking fitting all that steel in the bed of my Toyota Tacoma.

So when I heard about the book Junkard Planet by Adam Minter, I knew I had to read it.  It is a fascinating look at the scrap and recycling industry, primarily the money and trade between the US and Western Europe to and from Asia.  This is a must-read for anybody who has ever marveled at the piles of metal at the scrap yard, or the idealistic neighborhood recycler.

My 2017 Honda Ridgeline was made in Lincoln, Alabama.  I have now had this truck for a year and about 13,000 miles.  I bought it new, but at the risk of anthropomorphizing something inanimate, Junkyard Planet made me think about its former life.  Exactly where did the metal, plastic, fabric, etc. of my Honda start out?  How much of the materials that make up the Ridgeline are reclaimed vs. made out of new material extracted from the ground?
My original plan was to write either a 10,000 mile review of the Ridgeline, or a 1-year review.  But 10,000 passed a while ago while driving through South Dakota.  And yes, I do use the awful "Eco" button when on the interstate for long trips.  It is OK on the interstate, but it makes the vehicle nearly intolerable to drive any other time.

When I reread my previous Original and Six-Month reviews, they still cover my experience with the Ridgeline extremely well.  In the year and 13,000 miles that I've had the vehicle, I have really gotten to like this vehicle.  There are a few quirks, but I've yet to see any vehicle that doesn't have them.  Vehicle design must be an exercise in trade-offs.  While initially I was somewhat neutral on the appearance of the truck, even that has grown on me.

There are, predictably, a lot of piddly complaints which can be read on sites like the Ridgeline Owners Club.  Like most of the message boards I read, I'm a chronic lurker there.  People love to complain online.  But with few exceptions - it is just noise and this happens with just about every vehicle made ... ever.  The two biggest complaints I've seen are a lack of radio knobs - but my trim level has radio knobs thank-you-very-much.  However I rarely use them since controlling it from the steering wheel is easier.  Having my dogs on the radio wallpaper is a great feature to have.

The other complaint is how far the back doors open.  To be fair, I don't think any person has ever sat in the back seat in my truck.  But the doors open wide enough to easily get a double rifle case in front of OR UNDER the back seat.  That last option is great as it frees up so much more storage space for other things when I go on road trips.
And my Ridgeline has been on a few road trips.  About 30% of the miles on my Ridgeline have been hunting road trips.  The amount of stuff I can fit in it is vastly superior to my former Tacoma.  In addition to interior room, the Ridgeline has a voluminous "trunk" under the bed that easily holds all the stuff I used to cram in the Tacoma's meager underseat storage (or in a cardboard box on the back seat in my former F-150).

The all wheel drive system on the truck has proven extremely effective - even while going through some nasty stuff while hunting.

Fuel economy has been adequate so far.  It is about the same as my 4-cylinder Tacoma, but the V6 in the Ridgeline is a rocket compared to the grossly underpowered Taco.  I still wish there was a smaller more fuel efficient truck available in the United States.  I also mourn the slow death of the manual transmission.  I have only a minuscule amount of hope that the someday Ford Ranger will fill that void.
The drop in fuel economy at the end of the graph below shows the very real dip that driving at a fairly high rate of speed en route to Wyoming will do - and both directions of the trip were fighting a significant headwind in cold temperatures.  It is surprising how much of an impact that makes, even with a vehicle that is fairly aerodynamic (for a truck).  The graph also shows actual calculated mileage; indicated is typically around 1MPG more optimistic.

The only maintenance the truck has needed so far has been a simple oil change.  I suspect I'll be due for rear differential fluid and maybe even transmission fluid early in 2018 - but I'll let the Maintenance Minder advise what is needed.  Thankfully, most of the routine maintenance looks brainlessly simple.

My RTS trim level is no longer offered by Honda which is sad as I really saw it as the sweet spot for what I wanted.  I'm not terribly interested in a lot of extra doodads and much prefer cloth interior over leather.  I do wonder how the seats will hold up over time as they seem to take stains a little more than I would have hoped.

In short, the Honda Ridgeline is a great vehicle for what it is and doesn't pretend to be anything it is not.

The other thing Junkyard Planet made me wonder was what has happened to all my previous vehicles.  Likely my Tacoma is still trucking around.  Given the troubles I had with 2003 F-150, I'm less sure about that one.  Thinking back, I'm sure many of the vehicles I used to own have been reclaimed and turned into new things - maybe even my current Ridgeline!  (highly unlikely)
If I have any criticism of Junkyard Planet, it was that it felt a little dated.  It came out in 2013, which was just after the global economic meltdown was getting into full recovery.  Additionally, China seems to be changing weekly.  I couldn't help but think that things had changed since it was originally written.
I also wish there was more information on Africa.  Adam Minter is a journalist based in Asia, so the focus makes sense.  But I suspect some of the environmental issues he writes about are much worse in Africa.  Although, as he points out, versus what alternative?
The sections on plastic recycling and electronic waste I found depressing.  I've experienced this before.  There are, frankly, no good solutions for many of us in the developed world.  Recycling may be messy in the developing world, but it also looks more complete.
Finishing the book, I couldn't help but wonder how long until we start mining landfills for the metals and plastics as raw materials for the next generation of "stuff" to saturate our lives.  More stuff doesn't improve life, it just clutters it.

While I don't know what my Honda Ridgeline was in a past life, I hope and expect its next life won't come for many years and many miles.