I was driving before I turned sixteen. Growing up on a turf farm, my sisters as I had plenty of opportunities to drive before being legal to on public roads. We all learned to drive tractors, forklifts and ATV’s around the age of 8. I was endlessly fascinated with tractors, trucks and farm equipment. When I was fourteen, we had a 1991 Nissan pickup that we used for the farm. It was two wheel drive, five speed, and powered by a small 4 cylinder engine. The truck had no power steering, the vents were missing from the dashboard, the plexiglass was missing from the instrument cluster and the needle was missing from the speedometer. I Loved it. After a trip to Mcdonalds one day, one of my friends pushed an overcooked fry onto the speedometer rod that would have held the needle. It dried out and held in place with reasonable accuracy. I didn’t have a license, so we didn’t go too far. The truck mostly conveyed me between town and the few fields we grew sod on, almost exclusively on the backroads. Everytime I passed a cop along the route my heart froze and I sat up straight and tried to look as old my baby face would allow. I never did get caught, although there were times where I was sure we were about to get busted, and one late night where I made a last second turn into a dairy farm and evactuated the truck before we got lit up.
During those years we always had pickup trucks that were extensively used on the farm. We used them to pull equipment, carry parts and pallets, or deliver small orders to customers. They were practical vehicles for what we used them, but I was not immune to feeling like king of the road, sitting high in the truck, and feeling the torque of the engine pulling me down the road. The sound of the diesel was intoxicating. The deep throaty roar and the whistle of the air being pulled through the turbo made my heart race. The feeling of a heavy load behind a truck, the engine grunting and pulling, was more exciting than a race. The torque would flex the trucks body fighting against the resistance of the weight. Towing a load gave me a sense of fulfillment, of work, even if all I did was drive the truck.
I had a few cars, a ‘92 Nissan maxima. A good car, practical, reliable, and had those old seat belts on the track that automatically strapped you into the seat when you closed the doors. On a trip to the farm in Idaho, a friend and I got it up to 135 mph. It took some work. I kept my foot to the floor for miles, finally we hit a slightly downhill stretch where the car crept up past 120, and touched 135 for a split second before the freeway leveled out. Ya, it was irresponsible, I was aware of it at the time, but it didn’t stop me. I remember gripping the steering wheel in a white-knuckled hold afraid that it would escape me and send me careening to my death. The car just didn’t feel right at those speeds.
For a short time I had an ‘89 Toyota 4runner. You know, the old square bodies with the top that would come off. Arguably the best 4runner ever built, if we ignore the underpowered engine. The 22re was a great running engine, but trying to pull 31” tires in 5th gear, or climbing Sardine pass faster than 30 mph was just out of the question. In town or off-road it was awesome. I loved the sound of the little 4 cylinder engine, and the feel of the five speed shifter sliding smoothly in and out of gear.
Besides those I have been through a collection of F-series trucks, gas guzzlers, diesel pushers, a couple CUMMINS! diesels, which yes, they are iconic, and have a distinctive sound. I’ve had a few other compact cars for commuters, a Jeep, a Bronco and a few other Nissan Pickups, probably the best vehicles I’ve ever owned.
Noise
I don’t know if I’ve just gotten old, or I’ve been in noisy environments too long, but I no longer like the noise of an engine. During my short career as an over the road truck driver I spent a few months in a Kenworth semi that had been straight-piped. No muffler. It wasn’t the loudest truck out there, for which I am thankful. At first it was fun to listen to, climbing the hills listening to the siren song of a 15 litre cummins, then descending down the other side as the Jake brake growled out of the stacks. It only took a few weeks before the sound had lost its thrill. It became a 14 hour nuisance. The engine became the background soundtrack to every book on tape, and song I listened to.
Locked in
We built our house a few years ago close the main intersection in town. For the most part I like the location. My neighbors are great, I’m a few blocks from the grocery store, and I can go out for a walk or bike ride with my daughter on the grid of city streets around the house. While this has been a welcome change to highways or single roads I have always lived on, it has also highlighted the main problem that I always had with living along a highway; We are all slaves to our cars. When living along a highway, it wasn’t very safe to ride my bike along the highway, and I would never dare take my daughter along the highway shoulder on her bike. So we were mostly stuck on our driveway, or had to drive somewhere else. The city streets, while better, still have plenty of danger. Drivers are constantly speeding. It is a daily occurence to have somebody fly past our house doing 40-50 miles per hour, on a 25 mph street. Plenty of people slow down and move over for pedestrians or cyclists, but I’ve been buzzed by plenty of them, and all it takes is one to end my life, or my life as I enjoy it. In my part of town we also have no sidewalks. Not that a sidewalk would improve much, they are merely 3 feet wide, and constantly blocked.
I’ve gotten to the point that I enjoy self-powered transportation. It is therapeutic, recreational, and freeing to not be slave to a 3 ton rolling chunk of ego-expressing metal. But where I live, cycling is not easily done as an alternative. When I worked a job in Logan, 6-10 miles away, I would try to ride my bike as often as possible in fair weather. My route changed frequently depending on my time allowance and energy levels, but it was never the most direct route, down the highway. Sure, the highway has a large shoulder, but it’s littered with gravel and litter most of the year. Even if I wanted to deal with the gravel, any therapeutic benefit from the exercise was more than offset by the anxiety of constantly hearing the rush of vehicles gaining from behind and then blowing past me, an issue that is not completely resolved on the backroads.
Car Size
Lately along with the contention about fossil fuels and the disagreement about their negative effect, I have seen more coverage about the particularly American trend of building cars bigger, and more dangerous. Trucks are once again getting taller, with bigger, blockier grills. A new Chevy Truck sits roughly five feet tall at the front of the hood. A child anywhere near the front, or rear of that truck would go completely unnoticed to the driver. The trucks also weigh right around 7,000 Lbs. A compact car being hit or even hitting that truck is going underneath it. These trucks are becoming the new American-family-car. They are built purely for ego, luxury leather interiors, huge touch screen infotainment centers, and all the comforts they could build in. They are marketed towards the consumers idea of individualism. We all know the gravely voice of every truck commercial, a Sam Elliot voice reciting something about how “tough” the truck is. The trucks are shown off-roading, a trait that is barely part of their repertoire with their huge size, unequal weight distribution, and payload tailored suspension. The intimidating styling, size, and reputation have only helped sales. In a world where more vehicles on the road are big and dangerous, you want to be driving a more worthy adversary to tip the scales in your favor.
I can’t blame people for wanting trucks. I generally prefer to own a truck, particularly if I can only have one vehicle. They can do it all, if needed, even if using one for personal conveyance is hugely wasteful in one. But this trend is doing us no favors. As vehicles get bigger, wrecks will get more dangerous, highways more crowded, and we will collectively use more energy to move them all, whether that is gasoline, hydrogen, or electric.
The arguments against trucks have made their impact on me, but also given rise to an internal strife. I like traveling, not in an instragram influencer curated tourism photos way, but in a -getting out of town and visiting places outside of my normal everyday- way. This is not easily done with anything but a modern horse-less carraige. Sure I could take several days and ride my bike a few hundred miles in any direction, something I would love to do. But I couldn’t talk my wife into going, and I would not want to risk taking my daughters with my on that adventure. It also restricts my range to how much time I have and how much energy. My job as well, requires a vehicle, currently my “Built Ford Tough” F-150. I have a compact car too, a VW Jetta. After a day driving my truck around, it is a relief to get into my little car. The smooth ride, small size, and easy movements are unappreciated until put into immediate contrast to that of my tool and material laden truck. However that car has limitations. I’ve taken it down some dirt roads, but it’s limited clearance had me cringing when I felt a rock protroding from the road contact something under the car. It must not have been too bad, because it’s still moving, but a good hit in the wrong place could cause heavy damage. I’ve been considering something like the Subaru Outback. I’ve been called a Lesbian several times merely at the mention. But it is very practical for what I would use it for. There is a good reason for it’s popularity among the outdoors crowds of Salt Lake City and Denver. It’s a capable car, with enough clearance for most roads, without being a gas guzzling brick like a Jeep Wrangler. Sure the Jeep is capable for heavy off-roading, particularly when modified heavily, but that kind of use is enjoyed by far less than 1% of existing Jeeps. Most are only ego representing minivan replacements.
Cars have made our mobility easier, but also messier. We continue to accumulate waste in the form of tires, plastic waste, electronic waste and lead acid battery waste from the millions of cars on the road that have now become a necessity born out of the last hundred years of reliance on them. While other countries have invested in rail lines that can move people efficiently, we sit in traffic jams, expand highways just in time to fill them to the brink again and tolerate the tens of thousands of traffic deaths per year.
The personal car makes sense in our culture obsessed with the delusion of American Individualism. We, as a culture, are obsessed with image, convenience, and the idea that we are each self sufficient. The funny thing is that our actions are anything but aligned with those ideals. We flock to chain restaurants because they are popular somewhere else. We flock to places that become popular on social media. We stampede into dealerships and take out loans we can barely afford to get the hot new car like everyone else. In the end we are only homogenizing our culture. One place is hardly discernable from another. Every town is made up of the same chain restuarants, franchises, Wal-Marts, Targets, and Costco’s. Every street has street lights, traffic, and thousands of people trying to make a statement about their individualism with the car they drive. We think the car makes life better, but it increasingly entraps us in cities where escape is impossible without a car, and even then, we are trapped in traffic.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts on the subject of cars. I, too, have myself liking quieter cars with age. My Lexus LS 430 has become my favorite car. It's so quite that I can hear my watch at 60 mph! I do love my 911, but it's not the best for stop-and-go traffic due to the heavy clutch and temperamental cooling system.
Last year I started walking to my office. My commute is 10 miles away so I would leaven my house at 5 a.m. to arrive around 8. I find that the experience recharges my soul. Moving through the world on your own two feet slows everything down. I started to notice things that I hadn't seen after driving the same route 100 times.
I will always prefer self propulsion if the option is available.