We can all vividly remember the day we got our fist cars, or at least I know I do.
It was a worm weekend morning when I got a text from my dad saying come outside. I was laying in bed feeling lazier then ever so I texted him back asking “for what?” He replied with a simple “just do it.”
I slowly walked down the stairs, I put on some shoes and went out side. To my surprise there was an unfamiliar car parked right in front of my house, but I ignored it and kept on walking over to my dad. I approached him I asked him what he wanted. He just smiled and looked directly at the unfamiliar car, but I still wasn’t putting the pieces together.
We hadn’t been talking about getting me a car and I had my sisters little crappy red Toyota, so I had no idea what my dad was trying to tell me.
He reached into his pocket and took out some keys. At this moment I remembered I had a quick thought asking my self “could that be for me?” but I knew the odds of that happening were slim to none so I tried not to make assumptions. My dad pointed at the car unlocked it and looked at me. He said “Diego... its yours” I rapidly raced over to what I though was the coolest car in the world, and got in the drivers seat.
I was filled with nothing but excitement and joy. I remember I whipped out my phone and quickly updated my Facebook status saying “ I GOT A CAR!”
I could not stop smiling as a looked around in my knew car, but then I realized there was something missing...
I popped my head out of the sunroof and asked my day “where are the letters?” “what letters?” he replied. “the ones that tell me if I'm on drive or reverse and whatnot” I replied. He just started laughing and said “right I for got to tell you, its a stick”
I had no no knowledge of driving a stick and to be honest I didn’t even know what was so different about it.
My dad spend that whole afternoon telling me about manual transmissions and how they were different from automatics. Also he talked about what each pedal was for, and he tried to explain to me about the different gears. With out much progress I went to bed early that night.
The next morning I sat outside on the grass just staring at my new car, just thinking about how I didn’t even know how to start it.
I waited for my dad to come back from fishing so he could teach me how to drive my car.
It was around noon when my dad finally got back home. We started with my driving lessons right way. I quickly learned how to start my car and actually move it. I drove down the block fairly smoothly, but there was a stop sign coming up. I didn’t know what to do. I glared over at my dad and he said “press the clutch, shift to neutral, and press the break”. This was too much for me to proses so I just hit the break and stalled the car. This seemed to be a common trend so we stayed on smaller roads and empty parking lots for a while.
I had been driving almost everyday with my dad for two weeks and I felt pretty good about it. I still hadn’t been on the main roads or hilly places, although I was happy with my progress.
For some people it takes longer to learn and feel confident while driving a manual. “ It didn’t take me too long, maybe two or three weeks driving around town. It all came pretty naturally, and I picked up fairly quickly.” said my friend Jordan Wipf.
I was in that two to three week area, so life was good.
That Tuesday I got a call from Arby's asking where I was. I had completely forgotten I was suppose to cover for someone and I was already 20 min late. I told them I was on my way. I called my parents for a ride but they were with my grandma so they wouldn't answer. I called my uncle but he was in Duluth for some reason. I started to text people but no one seemed to be able to give me a ride to work. Time was passing and I was already extremely late. I left my parents a note on the door telling them I was going to work, and with out putting much thought into it I got in my car.
There I was driving down my street by my self. Everything was great until I got on galaxy ave. I shifted to fourth gear which I had never done before. My heart started raising, just as my speedometer went up and up. All I could think was “God please don't let me kill anyone.” I finally reached my first stoplight, and as expected I stalled. The people behind me were not considerate what so ever, they just kept on honking and giving me that “I'm saying really mean things about you in my head” look.
After failing twice I finally got the car moving, but at this point the little confidence I had had gone out the window. I kept on driving just wishing for all the stop lights to be green. As I looked at my rear view mirror I saw even more trouble. There was a cop right behind me.
The police did just what officer Baird said he would do “ follow the stalling car for a bit and once they have it under control just drive in some other direction.”
I was extremely relived to realize I was only a few seconds away from Arby's. All I had left was a quick turn into the parking lot. I only knew how to stop, not how to slow down while still driving so I took the risk and took a quick turn while driving kinda fast. My tires made an awful noise and everyone turned around to look at me, but I didn't care because my trip was finally over.
The drive back was a success, and so was basically every other drive after that.
Now that its almost been two years since that day, I can look back and laugh at it.
My first car a stick shift, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
I think I almost feel a little cocky knowing I can truly drive any car now. Its nice to know that most people cant drive my car.
In a way people who drive manual cars are like a family. We all share something special which we will never have taken a way.
This fall when I go to Germany it will be hard not having "lil silver” to drive around, but when I sell it I know who ever buys it will have that amazing feeling of independence I had. I only hope they can bond with their car the same way I did.
Its hard letting go, but if we stay with what we are comfortable with, then we will never discover or limits.
