Sunday, April 5, 2009
The Good Truck
Man, I miss driving my truck. I bought it in 1992 brand new from my friend, Doug, who was general manager for a Chevy dealer, and got me a great price. I put the canopy and the Yakima on it in 97, and it has been G's and my main road tripping vehicle since we've known each other. It has a raised dog bed in the back that Ed loves (The Healer rides under the back seat. She seems to have issues). It helped us move to Idaho from Georgia; we spent a week camping in the rain in it on the Oregon coast, it has been to Moab a couple of times, and we drove it on a mountain biking, spiritual healing trip to the north rim of the Grand Canyon shortly after my mom passed. It has been part of my life for longer than I have been married (I'm kinda hoping that G doesn't read this). I know that it is an inanimate object, but if a vehicle can have soul, then this truck definitely does
The only problem is that it has a clutch, and with my knee in the shape it is in right now, I can't drive a clutch. So I am driving G's Subaru, and she is stuck driving my truck. I say stuck, because, for as much as I love driving my truck, G hates it. According to her, it is too long, has too many blind spots, and it is just too damn big. Her biggest issue, though, is trying to park it. I will admit that it does have a fairly sizable turning radius, and can be a challenge in a small area. Evidently, it took her several attempts to get it into a parking spot at church last week, and by the time she did, she had a few people watching, and evidently enjoying the entertainment.
I am a bit concerned that it may be several months before I can drive my truck. In the mean time, I am afraid that G is going to start pushing me to sell it (she has already dropped a few subtle hints, like "why don't you sell that f***ing thing"). Of course, with 265,000 miles on it, who the hell would buy it?