Manual Tran....

Surely a thoroughly lost art amongst my peers in an age of automatic cars. I have fallen somewhere in the middle of all this. When I was nine years old my mom taught me how to shift gears in a car. She made me watch her hands and listen to the sound of the engine as she shifted gears. Excitedly I listen to the whirring purr...memorizing each nuance. Did I hear it? Oh yes. Okay now, put your hand on the stick. I placed it there feeling a flurry of butterflies join me in my stomach. It vibrated and purred with the engine and I white knuckled it for dear life. My mom placed her hand over mine and pushed it in sync with the the engine. Do you feel it? Yeah...! The moment of truth...she let go. Third Carlie...now! I did it.

From then on I've always known the sound of a car...automatic or manual...shifting gears. Over the years, I've run the stick from the passenger seat. Today I learned that while this was helpful...it was not at all the same. Today I took it from the driver's seat. For two hours the clutch was not my friend and hills were my worst enemy, but in the end triumph was mine. I now know a particular oneness between man and vehicle. I'm exhausted but I have traversed temecula traffic and the road was mine!