Tales of the Old Tan Truck

I always name my car that is if I like them. Some get girl names, others, boy names. Don’t ask me why. It all depends on the personality of the vehicle.

We had an old tan Chevy once that became sort of a fixture at our farm for more than a few years. It had a short bed with steps, making it easy to climb in the back end or out. We bought Tan used, real used for a song. Hard to find a bargain like that anymore. Old Tan wasn’t much for looks. Was a little battle scared? But he didn’t drink much gas or burn much oil, which made up for lack of loveliness.

Son and son’s friends would pile up in the back with the hay and whatever tack and stuff happened to be there, so they could ride with the breezes as we bumped across the rocky hillside. Never minding rough terrain, the prickly pear cactus or the Wasatch bushes it would be an adventure to find the new calf or repair the fence that was down.

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