By Scott Morris
A few years ago, friends from the bicycle club listened over lunch as I told them about my new $500 truck.
Like me, they knew that driving to the starting spot for a group ride is a hassle. You have to mount the hitch rack on the SUV, struggle to lift the bike overhead on the roof rack or remove the wheels and stuff the bicycle inside a hatchback. Sometimes, it seems like more trouble than it’s worth.
So I bought an old pickup.
This made it possible to put the bike in the back of the truck and drive to the starting point.
Every Southern man needs an old beat-up truck to haul his toys and carry junk to the landfill. If it blows up, he can sell it for scrap metal and he’s out less than the cost of one monthly payment on a new truck. New dents and scratches add character rather than leaving him with a sick feeling.
I have owned several old trucks through the years. Most of them drew looks and laughs when I fired them up and rattled off down the road.
Our children have had different opinions of my ancient pickup trucks.
The girls were ashamed to ride to school in them and complained they didn’t have a CD player or air conditioning. The boys drove off with them and didn’t bring them back. So, now I need another one, or at least would like to have one.
Nothing fancy. Something simple like my old $500 S-10 Chevy. My friends in the bike club liked it. They said my priorities were in the right place because my bicycle cost more than my truck.