Car Insurance

ON A QUIET afternoon last year towards the end of a press trip driving out of Botswana into still poorer Zambia in a new Jeep Cherokee, I found myself scanning the side of the road for a candidate to inherit my walking boots. It didn’t take too long to spot a young lad, in rags, limping along with a tyre over his shoulder and looking understandably bewildered when I brought the Jeep to an abrupt halt alongside him, bunged him a pair of socks, my weary but still thoroughly usable boots and a quick lesson in how best to securely tie the long, heavy-duty laces.

The boy excitedly told me he’d never owned a pair of shoes in his life and his family would be ecstatic that he’d acquired some sturdy footwear from a visitor to the area. He didn’t ask for or expect anything from anyone. And neither did any of the other people I met there.

What’s all this got to do with motoring? Plenty. If I’m willing and able to do a tiny bit of good by donating an ageing but still decent pair of boots to a hugely grateful African, who will exploit them for years to come, why can’t Africa receive some of the cars we inexplicably send to the scrap yard when they’ve still got years of life left in them?

I’m not suggesting that every shattered, rusting, F-reg bucket- of-bolts abandoned at the roadside in Britain should be scooped up and dumped in Africa, but I am advocating that some perfectly safe, high-quality cars going to unnecessarily early graves here be given a new lease of life in another, less privileged part of the world.

The Society of Motor Manufacturers and Traders says it’s near impossible to accurately estimate the age at which the typical motor on British roads is handed a death sentence. The organisation believes that the ‘average’ age of a car here is 6.8 years and that the vast majority of cars are taken off our roads when they’re little more than a decade old, if not sooner. At this point, they become ” for a variety of complicated political, environmental, economic and image reasons ” just about useless and worthless to us. There is no market for them. But to desperately poor African nations, they could become valuable, desirable assets. These days, engines are often only nicely run-in when they reach 100,000 miles. Go to Cuba and you’ll see cars slowly but productively going about their business on a daily basis, despite the fact they are half a century old with millions of miles on the clock.

Why on earth wouldn’t poor African towns and villages be extremely grateful to be sent our discarded but far from deceased quality, pre-owned cars? They could be used by health workers, teachers, emergency services and others in jobs designed to help the needy. The vehicles could be looked after by skill-seeking Africans keen to learn the art of car maintenance, repair and safety. And before you pour cold water on my idea by reminding me that much of the region’s harsh terrain is difficult, if not impossible, to drive across, surprisingly large sectors of Africa have fine, paved, straight roads or dry, flat, dirt tracks, which even the simplest two- wheel-drive cars (the simpler, the better) could safely and efficiently negotiate. The recent shenanigans at Volkswagen, Mitsubishi, Goodyear and Michelin, for example, have left these companies red-faced and in much need of some positive PR. This they can achieve by donating spares, tyres and equipment, as well as giving lessons on tyre safety, longevity and repairs.

A new tax law giving less favorable deductions to good Samaritans who donate cars and trucks to charities has caused a significant drop in donations in 2005.

Salvation Army Auto Sales at Weber and Cimarron streets received 40 percent fewer vehicles last year than in 2004, said Dennis Broom, administrative assistant and vehicle representative.

“It is due to the tax-law change, and while it’s not a big blow, it’s disappointing,” he said.

Brisk sales at a new Salvation Army thrift shop at Platte Avenue and Circle Drive have helped offset some of the loss of revenue, Broom said.

Under tighter Internal Revenue Service rules, taxpayers are allowed to claim as a donation the amount the donated vehicle sells for. If it’s less than $500, the taxpayer may claim up to $500. Before 2005, donors could claim whatever amount they thought reflected the fairmarket value of the car, up to $5,000.

“In some cases, the new restrictions made it a better deal to trade in a car rather than donate it,” said Sandra Miniutti, spokeswoman for Charity Navigator, a national nonprofit evaluator based in New Jersey.

Cars Helping Charities, a Morrison-based company that sells cars donated from around the state to benefit more than 500 nonprofits, will close because of the drop in donations.

“I went from 2,400 cars a year to 1,500 cars a year,” said Steve Morrow, who founded the company in 2002.

Goodwill Industries of Colorado Springs accepted 930 donated vehicles last year, 45 percent fewer than 2004’s donations of 1,711 vehicles, said spokeswoman Laura Marth. That led to a $100,000 decrease in program revenue, a 30 percent decline from 2004.

Last year’s loss is less than it could have been, though, because in December 2004 the organization received 464 vehicle donations from people getting in under the IRS deadline. That was the highest number of donated cars since the program started in 1998, Marth said.

The rush to make vehicle donations in the last month of 2004 before the new tax law went into effect is, in part, what led to the market downturn, Miniutti said.

“Apparently, donors who were aware of the changes coming decided to quickly make those gifts before the new rules took effect,” she said.

Although the number of vehicles donated to nonprofits has taken a nose dive, other aspects of automotive-donation programs have not.

The average sales price per car remained the same at the Salvation Army and Goodwill Industries, for example. The Salvation Army, licensed as a used-car dealer, averages a sales price of $950 to $970 per vehicle, Broom said. That’s higher than what other nonprofits report because the Salvation Army sells cars directly off its used-car lot and does not send donated vehicles to auction — the route many charities take to sell the vehicles.

Goodwill Industries’ average sales price was $478 last year, Marth said, which has remained consistent for several years. Goodwill sells the vehicles through a local auctioneer.

Despite the seeming setback, nonprofits say donating unwanted cars, trucks, vans and RVs remains a worthy avenue for supporting local charities and provides hassle-free disposal.

“It’s a real convenience — people just drop off their keys and title with us, and we take care of the rest,” Marth said. “And revenue generated is put back into our programs and services that help people in our community.”