Daddy’s Pickup Truck
You know, they say, “You can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl.” That is never so true. I think I’ll always be a “pickup gal”. I drive a 2015 GMC Duramax and just love my truck and grew up driving Pickups. Now growing up on a farm in South Dakota, a pickup was a must on the farm. Running to town to get feed, bringing seed corn to the field during planting, pulling trailers, all kinds of work. Growing up on a Dairy Farm/future salvage yard, Dad always had vehicles around. He would rebuild a pickup every year and then sell it for some extra cash this started Nordstrom’s Auto Recyclers in Garretson, SD. There was always something to drive. The first time that I went to Garretson, I drove a 1979 Ford Pickup. I was so proud, being careful, and then a huge noise, and it just died, not even a mile North of the farm. I walked back, and the guys brought the truck, put out flares, and made a big deal out of it. That truck got parts out for another. Then Dad thought I needed to be safer and put me in a 1979 Ford F250 Supercab Longbox- that’s a tank. Now that wasn’t the best choice for a wild 5.4” gal. I was going through Split Rock Park, around what was known as the “HorseShoe” and well side swiped a tree. I came home and parked it along the grain bin, thinking Dad wouldn’t notice that little mark. But then I head, “Yvette!” That fear fell on you and came out to face the music. I had to Show Dad the tree in the park. He didn’t get too mad and said he had hit the one earlier on the curve when he was in high school. But then, we went to trade it off and he gathered all the salesman at every dealership we went to and I had to tell the whole tale about no headlights, hiding from the cop, and hitting the tree. Oh yeah, did I leave that part of the story out for you. Well, let’s just say, that tree still doesn’t have bark on it in the park today.
But there was nothing better for a Tomboy, getting all cleaned up, and heading to town in Dad’s Pickup Truck. There was something about the window down and flying down that gravel road on a hot summer night. Smelling Alfalfa cut down, listening to frogs and crickets, and just feeling like you owned the world, driving Dad’s Pickup truck. In High School Dad Had this 1980’s Ford 4×4 Pickup outfitted with all the options-roll bar on, grill guard, and it had a 460 V8! That thing went like crazy. And never fail, some ole’ boy would edge me on, and well we just had to show them boys how to drive. If only that pickup could have talked. There always seemed to be the chance to pull someone out of a ditch, too. That pickup made ya fell like there wasn’t noth’in you couldn’t do. There were more advantages to a pickup, too. The box made a great bleacher section for watching a ball game, hauling friends, and well watching the stars after a wild night. Then you’d head back home and wait for the next weekend.
I own cars, old cars, but deep down I’m a Pickup gal. When the kids were little, I swore I wouldn’t own a Minivan-that’s not me. I had a Yukon or Tahoe, but not a minivan. That, to me, was a sign of pure domestication for a “Pickup Gal”. Now that the kids are grown, I love my truck. Pulling my trailer, hauling stuff, pulling things, and feeling like you can go anywhere, anytime. I”ve even told my family, if I die, don’t let them put me in one of those mini-van hearses, throw me in the back of my pickup truck. That truck, has all the creature comforts, and deep down, it still reminds me of when I was younger and flying down those gravel road of South Dakota in Daddy’s Pickup Truck.
The Lil Nordstrom’s Gal