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Learning to Drive a Stick Shift – in a Corvette
When my husband suggested about 40 years ago that I learn to drive a stick shift in his car, I figured, no big deal. He made driving a stick shift look so easy. The fact that it was a ’64 Corvette, with an 11” racing clutch, 12” Indie tires on the rear with “radiused” wheel wells, 327 cubic inch, and 365 horse power didn’t faze me. (Of course, I had no idea what all that meant and I still don’t understand some of it to this day.) The fact that it sounded like a beast when it was running made me a little queasy, but what the heck: Jerry was very patient and it would be a new adventure.
Right.
First, you have to picture me in the driver’s seat. If you were behind the car, it looked like no one was driving. (Don’t even go there.) In order to reach the pedals, we moved the seat forward as far as it would go and I still needed a pillow behind me. Some of you folks are out there saying, wow, a Corvette, cool. No. It wasn’t. But I was still ready to learn.
So the next step was learning how to use the clutch and stick shift together. Okay. Actually, after stalling the car many, many times, I kind of got the hang of it. At least I didn’t grind the gears.
So I started to enjoy driving the beast. As long as I didn’t have to shift too often. Stop signs in quiet neighborhoods were no big deal. But traffic lights in busy intersections with impatient drivers — not so great. But I stuttered through with minimal horn honking behind me.
But then there were two major roadblocks to my newfound expertise: steep driveways and speed bumps. The driveway was at one of our favorite restaurants and was easy to enter, because I just let the car drift down. But feathering the clutch and slowly increasing the gas became my downfall when I tried to get up the driveway. I swear it was at a 90-degree angle! After stalling the car several times, and cars piling up behind me, we made a radical decision. I put the car in neutral, pulled on the emergency brake, and we both jumped out of the car and switched seats. Jerry rescued me from that cursed driveway. I’m not sure who was happier: me or the cars behind me. Jerry, bless his heart, did his best to try not to laugh.
The only other major difficulty was managing speed bumps. I had no idea how hard speed bumps would be! There was a quiet street with intermittent speed bumps in what used to be El Toro, CA (now Lake Forest). I don’t know how we ended up there; I suspect Jerry was suddenly overcome with evil intent and led me there. Naturally I couldn’t just power over the speed bumps or I would have destroyed the car. So I once again had to feather the blasted clutch, while slowly increasing the gas to move over them. By gosh, I was going to figure this one out! I can’t remember if I started to crack up with laughter or if I raged in frustration. But I finally figured out how to do it. Victory!
After that time I left almost all the ‘vette driving to Jerry. I’m just not a sports car person. I can say I’m very glad he taught me. When we eventually sold the Corvette and bought our first brand-new car, we bought a Toyota Corolla stick shift for me. I could have shifted that car with my baby finger after the 11” racing clutch. Nowadays Jerry has a 370 Z. It’s his baby, not mine.
Published in Group Writing
Another wonderful story from those fellas. Yeah, there’s a point, quickly reached with this, where the instruction is a distraction from getting a feel for the car.
A patient instructor, with a sense of humor, goes a long way, too!
I cried when I got rid of my 1981 ‘Vette. I had quit the Navy to go back to grad school, and while I could have afforded the monthly car payments, I would not had much money left over for gas.
Tell me, is his forehead flat like mine, from beating it against the wall for selling it?
He doesn’t say. But one of the reasons he did sell it was because he was juggling full-time school, full-time work and the darn thing needed some tinkering every time he turned around. I think he enjoys the Z but it’s not the same, Stad.
When my oldest and later my youngest bought their first (and so far only) stick shift cars, I had to go with them to the dealer and drive them home. Needless to say, they both learned to drive very quickly and enjoyed the experience.
Most Opel owners had one car that ran about 33% of the time. Your friend fixed it by having 3 Opels. That’s genius.
I learned a clutch in 1977. It was a ’68 F100, three on the column. We had an emergency, my brother was stranded due to an early snowfall. We borrowed the truck because it had snow tires and I had to drive because my dad had recently lost his license after being diagnosed with degrading vision (20/2000).
I was 16, he talked me through the shifting. I was stalling, slipping and sliding everywhere until we got to my brother. He took over and I rode home in a mild shock.
1st time driving a truck.
1st time driving in snow.
1st time driving a clutch.
Guided by a blind man.
Perfect storm.
My first car was a ’70 VW Beetle. It was like shifting a marshmallow. You knew you were there but it was not a positive feel. The next car was Triumph TR-4A. That has the sweetest shift I have ever felt. The shift column was about 6 inches long as compared top the VW 24 inches. The trans just snapped from one gear to the next. A very positive feel.
I bought it from a private owner who had it in his garage. I went to test drive it and he was away but his wife was there. She gave me the keys and opened the door. I put the car into reverse and started to let out the clutch…and eased forward! OK. So reverse isn’t in the same place as the VW. Try another location. Eased forward. Nope! Try another. Nope. The wife asks me if I know how to drive a stick. I’m getting embarrassed. I asked her to show me where reverse was. She couldn’t tell me but had to get in and use muscle memory. It was all the way to the right, lift straight up and push forward! You were not going into reverse by accident on that tranny. I loved that car.
You poor kid!! Obviously you were a natural! Thanks for the story.
That reminds me of some dummies in my battalion when I was in Iraq. It was night and the driver’s night vision goggles didn’t work. They decided to go anyway, with the guy riding shotgun (the A-driver) giving him steering commands. So, there they were in a very noisy HMMWV at night. The seats in the truck are so far apart that it’s a bit of a reach for the A-driver to grab the wheel.
Needless to say, they ended up in a ditch. In a war zone. At night. It’s a good thing they always travel with no less than four vehicles.
I learned to drive a stick in ’69 with a cast on my left leg (to the knee), added to the challenge! Fast forward 25 years, my daughter came home in tears for a couple days while trying to learn, “I’ll never learn how to do this!!” Soon she was judging her boyfriends by whether or not they could drive a stick. Amazing how many young men were found wanting. This extended to her skills with things like hammers and drills, given to her by her dad and her participation in technical theater. She finally found a good match. We tease him by telling him she just wanted him for his nail gun! But he can drive a stick shift!
This requires some explanation. Even grunts aren’t as dumb as the guys in this story seem to be. Why didn’t either, a) the A-driver drive, or b) the driver wear the A-driver’s NOGs.?
That’s the million dollar question. The driver was an idiot, and had you met him you would agree. I daresay his officers and NCO’s didn’t think he was that much of an idiot, and his peers were carrying his share of the mental load. It’s strange to think there were others who were carrying him so much that they let him drive that way. But it’s a true story.
My daughter asked my mother if she learned to drive on a automatic or stick shift. My mom got a little smirk on her face and answered ” Reins”.
I’ll assume you’re correct, Skyler. Don’t want to think of this story as our military at work!
I saw on Lucianne.com an article by Titus titled Debasing 9/ 11 it was written for Amgreatness.com. Very interesting.
I thought there was going to be an operational reason that I wasn’t familiar with. I’m impressed. Anybody who has served can share a few “dumb GI” stories, but yours may take the cake. It’s not the funniest, but it may well be the dumbest.
Still don’t know how to drive stick. I mean, I do in theory, and have for a while. But it’s not quite the same as the real deal, as I’ve come to learn.
One time I had to house sit for my grandmother and aunt, and my aunt picked me up in her old VW bug (older than me, old enough to not have seatbelts in the back). She had me drive for a bit, since I would have to move it in and out of the garage for some reason, as well as using it to get anywhere if I so desired. Being an old beast, it had some quirks, to say the least, on top of being manual, and I was supposed to get the feel for these things. We didn’t get very far. And when it came time for me to start it up at the appointed time…it took a while.
I do want to learn, because it seems more fun, enough of the time (I would manually shift on those pseudo-manuals, like the Chevy Malibu, just for a pseudo-feel), but I never have the need. Most people drive automatic if I need to borrow a car.
Ah, but the triumph of conquering the vehicle and making it respond to your every shift–it’s really exhilarating. At least it was when I was 24.
It’s true, you do (at least in your imagination) feel more in control. I always thought downshifting saved the brakes, too. That’s a good, practical thing.
That’s only because I lack the humor gene and can’t do it justice.
My wife and I recently went to the Mercedes dealership. No, we didn’t buy and honestly didn’t plan to, but I asked our salesman, Jurgen (a 60-something from a town near the Schwarzwald), about a manual transmission. He said he knew of only one Mercedes ordered with a manual transmission, paused, and added it was for a woman. I’m not sure if he was poking fun, but I just gave him a big smile. If we ever do spend the money to order from the factory, I’m going to want what I want. (Take THAT, Jurgen.) But, honestly, my 120k-mile Honda shows no signs of slowing down.
I went to the Porsche dealership a few months ago and the only car with a stick was a 1965 356 coupe. Even Porsche has given up on manual transmissions.
My husband taught me to drive manual transmission when we sold my car (1984 Ford Escort) because we were moving across the country to start a new job. We decided that his 81 Honda Accord was a better car. He’s an amazingly patient teacher. I remember one time driving to work, he was next to me, and the traffic was making me nervous, and I was trying to turn right and I swear I stalled the car 21 times. Despite that horrible beginning I love driving manual. We still have that Accord – over 220,000 miles – and it is still on the original clutch. We bought another Honda in 2000 also a manual. Manual transmission, front-wheel drive is the best thing where we live. I don’t know what we are going to do if one of these Hondas truly dies. By the way, if I can learn to drive manual, anyone can learn to drive manual.
Oh, they haven’t given up, they’ve just decided they can milk more money for them by making them available only on special editions like the 911R.
The 911R – a stripped down sports car that costs more than the heavily laden base model.
I probably went 20 years without driving a car with a manual transmission. They hold no romance for me, and modern automatics even out perform their manual counterparts. That said, I recently did some repairs on my niece’s ’93 Jeep Wrangler, and I have to admit that the test drives were fun. It’s not a nice vehicle by any stretch of the imagination, but it was a blast and the manual transmission was part of the experience. Of course I can’t imagine how gutless that 2.5L (now with 105 psi cylinder compression) would be with an automatic. Even with the manual, the 0-60 time was so long that I needed to stop for a restroom break.
I taught all my kids, except the curmudgeon who preferred a motorbike, to drive a shift.
Getting them comfortable with the concept started when they were little. If they were in the front seat they got to be the gear changer for me .
It was a really bad day when one of them tried to help my husband. He has a somewhat more nervous disposition than me…..
My worst moment in a stick was when the youngest managed to get out of his baby seat and open a door while I was negotiating a roundabout in England. I was holding his foot firmly in one hand while alternately steering and changing gears with the other hand, and feathering the clutch with one foot while controlling the gas/brake with the other foot.
Like playing an organ I suspect.
That’s why freeway on-ramps should be curved!
Sounds like he should find the local car club that runs autocross competitions, or better yet, high performance driving on a road race course. Sports Car Club of America, Porsche Club of America, BMW Car Club of America, etc. (most of the ones focused on a car brand have no problems letting other car brands participate).
I’m only telling this because my parents passed some years ago and I’m pretty sure my grandchildren will never read it.
I learned to drive stick in 1963, age 16, on an XKE. Red. Convertible. One of my dad’s Lieutenants left it in his care while on cruise, knowing no doubt that dad would never push its limits at all.
I persuaded him to show me on it how to do a stick shift. I won’t critique his approach to the lesson, but just suffice it to say it didn’t work out at all. Dad was extremely patient, though.
But late, late – long after lights were out – a friend of mine came over and helped me quietly (quietly!) push it out of the driveway and half a block down the street. Then I learned about manual transmissions. It was much easier to learn without dad’s help.
Once I learned, I took as my responsibility to make sure it gathered no carbon deposits but I had to have it back in time to cool down before dad got up. So we’d periodically do the sneak it out at night thing, disengage the odometer cable, and go for a fast drive. We lived on base (Marine Corps) and I was always nervous going through base security but they never stopped us.
I’m pretty sure dad never knew. Pretty sure.
I can’t even remember learning to drive a stick as it’s been so long ago. Over the years I always bought (new) manuals as there is no funner way to drive. Until several year ago when I was talked out of it – the car salesman said it was a matter of resale value. I succumbed and haven’t had on since. I miss them.
One year I bought a TR7 (the Wedge in BRG, of course) Loved driving it. Well, several months later was on a business trip in Brussels. A few of us went to a great bar in the Grand Place. The drinks were Slav Tea, a drink that in no time will sneak up behind you, grab you around the knees, and flatten you. Well, my ride back to the hotel was a Brit from our offices in Brussels who had brought his TR7 with him from England. Learning that I too had one, he insisted I drive. Rain, slippery cobblestone streets, and me attempting to drive a right-hand drive stick. Trying hard to focus on the mechanics of shifting with my left hand and a right foot that seemed disconnected from my brain… The only thing I really remember is that we did make it back to the hotel.
BTW, that car (mine) was actually a piece of crap. Never thought the Brits had quite grasped the concept of QA/QC. Traded it for an Audi (yes, a stick) less than a year later.