Slowing Down:  Everything I Need to Know I Learned From A Truck - Part I

Walter is old enough to be my father.  62. Born in 1946.  To my knowledge he’s spent his whole life in California, originally working mine inspections up in the Sierras and more recently working for a contractor who does restorations on old Craftsman homes down in Santa Barbara.  Next he’s going to help me with my Bay Area remodel, making dump runs and carrying building materials and tools.

Walter is a truck.  A 3/4-ton Chevy long-bed pickup.  Original straight-six 216 engine.  Four on the floor with a granny gear.  Crash-box transmission from the days before syncromesh.

Top speed 50mph.

Interesting things happen when your truck is over 60 years old and your top speed is 50mph. When you have to think about every shift.  When you feel and hear the engine and the road.  You see more.  You hear more.  You listen to the engine and transmission to know when to shift.  You smell oil drips burning off the old block and you can gauge the truck’s temperature and its health.  You crank down the window (or even crank out the front windshield—the original air conditioning) and feel and smell the breeze. 

People smile at you and your slow old truck. 

You can feel the appreciation of the old timers as memories flood back.

You can see younger people’s eyes light up as they discover the visceral appeal of art deco curves and shiney chrome. 

All of a sudden there’s no destination—only a journey.

Posted by 'mouse on 04/12 at 12:42 PM

  1. Oh, mercy.  The more I read this, the more I smile.

    Will I be lucky enough to see this thing of beauty for myself when I’m in your neighborhood?  :)

    Posted by Bakerina  on  04/13  at  10:37 AM

  2. You are actually using this grand, old geezer for dump runs? Ahhhh. He is a wonder.

    Posted by molly  on  04/13  at  03:20 PM

  3. How long has Walter been with you?

    My grandfather—a serious car man—had Alzheimer’s, sadly.  His lust for cars hung on in his brain long after almost everything else had gotten lost or erased.  He kept trying to marry women in his nursing home because he had this fixed delusion that if he got married my dad would buy him a new car.  Even though he was a Cadillac and an Oldsmobile man, this sweet green truck just reminds me of him.

    Posted by Beth  on  04/19  at  03:05 AM

  4. What a moving story, Beth.

    I came to leave admiring comments for ‘mouse and his gorgeously character-rich truck.  However, I’m left even more moved than I expected. 

    I’m so glad Walter is kept useful.  It’s the way it should be.

    Posted by boot  on  04/19  at  04:43 AM

  5. Oh my, Walter is gorgeous! And does this mean that you are actually ready to start work on your remodel? Plans, man, I wanna see plans!

    Posted by Kimberly  on  04/20  at  12:26 PM

  6. what a gorgeous gas guzzler he is!  and your unrepetent old’schoolery, well, you know what that does to me:)

    Posted by goliard  on  05/15  at  11:46 AM

  7. Walter represents my youth…which is sadly slipping further away…

    25 today.

    My “vehicle..” is 12 today..(I guess! My car will always share the same date as I.)

    Beautiful truck. 

    Paco, Tom-ass…Had a truck very similar to this truck…

    Sun, school, freedom, unemployment…....Damnit

    Posted by JadedBeauty  on  05/16  at  02:37 AM

  8. Why, ‘mouse, he’s perfectly charming!

    Posted by Joan of Argghh!  on  05/28  at  06:16 PM

  9. I would gladly climb into Walter’s bed, and believe me, I just don’t go around saying that sort of thing about men.

    Life is a journey, there’s no doubt about it.  Old trucks like this are nice reminders.

    Posted by Keith  on  07/24  at  04:15 PM
    10. Page 1 of 1 pages

Due to excess spam, you must be logged in to comment.

Next entry: WTF?

Previous entry: Advice to my 13yo Daughter

<< Back to main