It all started way back in the early '80s. My father and stepmother and myself had moved to our land in the country. We spent the summer building our house that still exists today. In fact, my parents continue to enjoy the 100 acres.
Now in upstate New York winters can be very harsh. Especially in the higher elevation of the Finger lakes. That's when my father decided to buy a plow truck. Wow! What a truck! A burgundy 4x4 Dodge Ram Charger with a plow. I would go plowing with him and we would have a good time "plowing" through the 2' to 5' high snow drifts that developed only after a matter of a couple of hours. Then came the time when my father told me to go plow. By myself! How cool! I would be able to get behind the wheel and push snow as far as I could and feel the weight of the truck in contrast with the snow. I felt like I could throw that truck wherever I wanted using my innate ability to sense where the vehicle would go next.
Anyway, that was my first experience driving. Secondly, being 14 and living in the Southern Tier on back roads it wasn't to out of the ordinary for me to travel, stealthily, to town to grab the necessary grocery items. Me, all by myself, in a vast machine with a 318 in it cruising down Monkey Run. Pretending that nobody noticed as I walked into the town store purchased my goods and exited town in the Ram Charger. I was cool! Getting to drive the Ram Charger in to town was my first bite of driving that continues to live in my soul. Probably until the time I no longer exist.
Now in upstate New York winters can be very harsh. Especially in the higher elevation of the Finger lakes. That's when my father decided to buy a plow truck. Wow! What a truck! A burgundy 4x4 Dodge Ram Charger with a plow. I would go plowing with him and we would have a good time "plowing" through the 2' to 5' high snow drifts that developed only after a matter of a couple of hours. Then came the time when my father told me to go plow. By myself! How cool! I would be able to get behind the wheel and push snow as far as I could and feel the weight of the truck in contrast with the snow. I felt like I could throw that truck wherever I wanted using my innate ability to sense where the vehicle would go next.
Anyway, that was my first experience driving. Secondly, being 14 and living in the Southern Tier on back roads it wasn't to out of the ordinary for me to travel, stealthily, to town to grab the necessary grocery items. Me, all by myself, in a vast machine with a 318 in it cruising down Monkey Run. Pretending that nobody noticed as I walked into the town store purchased my goods and exited town in the Ram Charger. I was cool! Getting to drive the Ram Charger in to town was my first bite of driving that continues to live in my soul. Probably until the time I no longer exist.
