Let's Try Another One...Writing Prompt #391

 I was looking through the book of writing prompts, not really feeling the vibe if you get me, when I came across one that is a memoir (I'm kind of into those right now...feeling nostalgic I guess). I'm supposed to write a memory of a car...one from my childhood, my fantasy car, my first car (another time maybe), one I learned to drive in, and that one brought up a memory that I'll share.

I learned to drive gradually, on dirt roads, in my grandfather's baby blue Comet. He let me start by sitting in his lap, oh I don't know, probably somewhere around 6 or 7, just steering. By the time I was 12, and could actually reach the pedals, he would let me drive between his house and my other grandparents about 10 miles away, on quiet sandy dirt roads. I can still remember his admonishment to "stay in the ruts!" Because if you drifted too much to the side, you could get stuck in the sand and be there until some kind soul came along and pulled you out...no cell phones back in the 60's. My dad would let me drive once in a while too, so I got pretty good at driving on back roads, even paved ones, by the time I was 14, although my practice was mostly in the summer when I was visiting Arkansas, because after the age of 10, I was living with my Mother in Texas.

But this memory is not of the Comet, but my oldest sister's little orange Vega. She was married and living with her husband in the Philippines (who was in the Air Force and stationed there), so her Vega was parked at my grandmother's house while she was out of the country. They made sure to drive it occasionally to keep it running, but it didn't get used much. The summer I turned 14, 1973, my middle sister and I were both at the farm while she was preparing to get married and move to California. I remember her sewing her wedding dress and my bridesmaid dress. I don't remember why, but she got it in her head that I needed to learn to drive a stick-shift, and what do you know? The orange Vega just happened to be a 3-speed standard transmission. I do remember making it clear that I had no interest in learning to use a clutch...hey, I was only 14 and hadn't even had drivers training yet. No permit, no nothing. But she was determined to teach me (it proved providential later), maybe she just needed a project, something to pass the time out in the country with nothing much better to do. And at that time in my life, I practically idolized her and she could talk me into almost anything...just look at the short haircut she talked me into (I got so much teasing about that haircut at school...another story).

We started by me just learning to go forward and let the clutch out, giving it gas, until I could do first gear with out stalling the engine, then remembering to push in the clutch as I braked. It was very jerky at first of course, but my sister was pretty patient with me and made me do it over and over until I could go. Then we would back up, drive down the lane, turn onto the dirt road and go a few miles, getting fast enough that I could shift into second gear, then turn around and go back. When I was confident enough, we drove to the paved road where I could get it up to third gear. I wasn't confident (or very competent), but I could do it fairly smoothly. Actually, I was just glad when the lessons were over, but I did feel a sense of accomplishment, learning to do something most kids my age didn't know how to do. Thanks, sis.

This skill proved to be important to me the next summer, but we'll get to that story another time.