Every child dreams of having their own vehicle someday. Some hope to have a fast car, while others want a big, jacked up pickup truck. I dreamed of having a truck, one that I could call my own. At the age of only seven, I began to drive my brother’s old stick-shift S10. It was the first vehicle I ever drove and because of it I decided that my first car had to be a truck.

The first time I drove was after my brother had left home for the navy. Though he took many of his belongings with him, the old, rusty truck did not make the trip. I remember the day vividly. It was cloudy and crisp, comfortable sweatshirt weather. My dad and I walked over to an old corn crib where the fine, black piece of machinery sat. He asked if I wanted to try driving it and of course my response was yes. As we hopped in I took in the scent of black ice pouring from the air freshener, hanging from the rearview mirror. Next thing I knew the truck was in reverse and we were rolling. My dad handled the shifting and I controlled the clutch and gas. This was my first of many experiences driving an S10.

Years later when I was fourteen, I found myself wanting to drive more and more. I had my learner’s permit, but my parents shut down the idea of getting my school permit. I knew if I could acquire my school permit my parents would most likely buy me a vehicle and I would have access to the open roads. I convinced my parents it was a good idea, completed the necessary paper work, and before I knew it I had my school permit.

I loved car shopping with my dad. I envisioned myself behind the wheel of every car we saw from the shiny and fast Camaros to the old, rusty Volkswagons. I was so anxious to get my first car I was almost to the point where I did not care what I drove as long as it would get me from place to place. Ugly trucks and cars began to become more and more appealing. A few days later on a cool cloudy day I arrived home after school to the news that my dad had spotted a tan, four door S10 in a car lot in Webster City. I became very interested with the sighting and had to know more about the truck. I pestered my father until he told me we could go test drive the truck after school the next day.

I easily gazed across the whole lot from a window in the establishment, inside were worn seats and tables. It had clearly been in business for quite some time. Outside the building however, the vehicles were mostly new and nice, but I was so focused on finding this truck and convincing my dad it was perfect that I did not even bother to look at any of the other trucks or cars in the lot. Once I located the S10, I insisted on taking it for a test drive. She handled like a dream and before the sun went down that day I made sure the truck was mine. Once I got it home I could only admire its beauty from a visual standpoint because it was a Friday and I was only able to drive to school events. Little did I know that I would drive many more miles and make even more memories inside its spacious cab.


Over time the old S10 became less and less new to me. Perhaps it is because after a few years of driving it, I rear ended another car on two occasions and hit a deer, destroying the hood and grill of the truck. As I put more miles on the S10 I became bored with it and no longer looked at it as a cool vehicle to be driving. I grew about a foot but the S10 did not. Fitting inside its cab became a hassle, it was just no longer comfortable for me to drive. Like a snail outgrows its shell, I outgrew my first truck. I informed my parents that it was time for an upgrade, but when they did not take the bait I knew I had screwed up. I was stuck driving the old S10.

A kids first car is always going to be special to them. Though some of them want expensive lifted trucks or fast sports cars, it really does not take a special first vehicle to be a memorable one. No matter what kind of first car a teenager gets, cool or not, they will remember it fondly. Mine just happened to be an ugly, tan, four door S10.