Trying to drive

So, at a young age 15 my step mother decided to take me out in our third of a mile driveway and teach me how to use a clutch. Simply put, we both tasted what we had for breakfast. As the car lurched forward the whole third of a mile down the driveway we were both grinning from ear to ear because of my ignorance. 

(not actual car)

It was a black Renault Alliance with tan interior. I liked it. Really I liked being in any car. My senses and emotions extended far beyond anything I ever felt. The mere fact of extending the capabilities of my hands and feet, as well as my vision, was something I was never able to describe. 

Anyway, Donna described to me what to do. I can't remember exactly what she said, "let the clutch out as you push in the gas". Simple enough. I think we went fro zero to twenty in two seconds. The engine quit. Ok no big deal lets try again she said. 

Time went by and by and I was doing pretty well with the clutch and I go my license. My father said I could use the car but gave me a twenty five mile limit. Well, I went to pick up my friend went to Naples and came back to drop him off at home. I looked down and the odometer showed I had traveled twenty six miles and I wasn't even home yet. As I stated earlier I was pretty ignorant. Using my intelligent ignorance I decided to travel  backwards for a few miles. Going forward puts miles on the car so backing up should delete miles, right? WRONG! As I turned around at the end of the driveway ready to go forward to house with my head high thinking I was really smart I looked down at the speedometer. Oh my god! The speedometer said the same thing. I knew I was going to get it. With my tail between my legs and my head hung low I slapped the shifter into first and let the clutch out just like my stepmother told me. Ow! the sound coming from under the hood was not good. A knocking sound that wasn't any usual knocking sound. I had bent the rods in the engine. Oh f???!

My driving career ended for a little while until my Dad accepted my stupidity as young ignorance.

Whew! 

Dying to drive

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.