Saturday, April 12, 2008
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.