People have a plethora of options as to what vehicles they can buy. One type of those vehicles are trucks. However, trucks are more than just metal on wheels. They are ways of life, means of memories, and modes of lesson-teaching. There's nothing like a truck, and only truck owners can place their fingers on just what that special thing is that puts trucks above any other vehicle.
Where I come from, having a truck is part of your identity. If you don't have a truck, you aren't doing enough as a Montanan, because everyone should need a truck. We're rough and tough people who tow boats, campers, and trailers. We go out in the mountains for hunting and the sole purpose of driving our trucks through mud puddles. We divide ourselves into four kinds of people--Dodge, Ford, Chevy, and GMC lovers. Friends feud as these different truck owners and their gasoline-fueled arguments can amount to the same banter you hear from football fans. In my home state, we love our trucks, and it's pretty obvious.
I was raised on these same standards. I was raised a "Chevy girl," and I made friends based on who drove the same trucks as I did. My family owns Chevys and has had multiple trucks throughout the years--yet we haven't gotten rid of any of them. I wanted a truck as my first vehicle more than anything and learned how to change a tire on my dad's truck before I even attempted to do so on my own little car. Owning a truck becomes a state of mind. It changes the way you look at and end up doing things.
From a young age, I was taught how to drive a truck. My dad would set me on his lap and we would take the family Chevrolet out to the lake and I would steer while he manned the gas and brake pedals. There was always something special about getting to drive this giant metal beast--whether it be tearing up the dirt road, learning to tow a boat at the same time, or simply spending that quality time with my dad and even with my grandpa. I loved being in that truck. The truck that I love is the definition of a family truck. My grandpa had it and handed it over to my dad. My dad still clings to that truck for dear life, and I probably won't get that old white "horse" until I pry the keys out of his cold, dead hands. That truck has been driven by the majority of my family and has helped us make memories that I hold onto as tightly as my dad holds on to the title of that 2001 Silverado.
There's something special about a truck that their owners all silently understand, but yet somehow different at the same time. We love our trucks and our trucks love us. Even after we put them through the ringer, they will always be there to carry us down the road, wherever we want to go. We can wreck them, and damage the whole body of the truck, but the spirit of the truck will always carry on until you get the truck out of the shop. There's a little joy that you experience every time you hop into the driver's seat and start the engine.
Trucks teach you things that you would never expect to learn from a piece of metal. They teach you loyalty. Trucks will always be by your side, and be there for you when you need to take a drive up into the mountains after a rough day. Cars couldn't get you past a trail head to a hiking path--even though I've seen some Subarus power through the mountains with a deer strapped to the top of their car like they were just one of the trucks. Trucks also teach you resilience. When you've been in a wreck and the front of your truck is crushed in, along with your spirits, your truck comes back better as new and teaches you that if a hunk of metal can come back from an experience that almost killed it, so can you. Trucks also teach you to be adventurous. Trucks can go just about anywhere and won't have to stop until they reach their destination.
The fact that our family truck was my grandpa's first, and now my dad's, and hopefully one day will be my majestic steed, just makes my drives in the truck even better, and even more special. I've learned a lot from my truck, and I still have a lot to learn from it — those lessons come from driving it more and more. There's one thing that is always a constant when I drive my family's truck, though: I look at the cross sitting right over the dashboard and I know that I'm safe. That's why everyone who has a truck, loves their truck--it always makes them feel safe-- it's a safe haven that is only a few steps away from a place that may have been considered "hell" only two seconds before.
