|An old 'beater' of a car in a nice tan color, the seats as big and comfortable as couches.|
My father had bought it for me when I got my license and even though it was horrible on gas, I could fit all my friends inside it and never had to worry about someone opening a door into the side.
I lived on a gravel road for the first 3 years of my driving career and could navigate them at amazing speeds, avoiding wildlife, large pot holes and other vehicles that crossed my path.
The car was indestructible. I ditched it one winter, had to climb out the window to get out, and shelled out the *cough* seventy five dollars *cough* to have it dragged out by the tow truck, no damage done at all.
The best time of year to drive through the countryside was summer.
After class we'd pile into my 'Big Bruised Banana Boat' and flip a coin, heading in the direction it corresponded to.
After a day of adventure through forest, restaurants and music we'd head home.
How we ever found our way back after so many twists and turns and so much pot is still beyond me.
Every time I left a boyfriend, went to a party, left for school, did anything, I traveled down that dirt road.
I got so used to hearing the 'ping' of the rocks off the bottom of my car that when I moved into town, onto pavement, driving was horribly quiet.
I used to enjoy driving.
Maybe because it was always an adventure, maybe it was that I never knew where I'd end up and now it's work -> home -> odd trip to store -> work -> home..
I miss the old girl, and although my new car has more lights and buttons and bells and whistles, the laughs we had as we sped across the countryside were a far better feature than any dealership can offer.