I didn’t take driver’s ed as a teen because my older siblings said it was boring and stupid and my parents wanted me to pay for it. So my sister took me out on the back country roads in a full sized van. I drove about five miles around the area. The next day I went in to take my driver’s licence test. I passed the written portion and they gave me a licence. It was so uncommon for anyone in my county to get a licence without taking driver’s ed they had no contingency for it or a way for me to take a driving test.
My parents handed off the keys to their ugly old van to me immediately and let me drive where ever I needed to. They knew exactly how much experience I had.
In a driver’s ed class with one of those special cars with dual controls. I was cruising along and someone cut me off and then hit their brakes hard so in order to avoid a rear-end I quickly switched lanes. The so-called instructor hit his brakes in a panic several minutes too late and the car spun out and hit a bus loaded with commuters. That was a fun day.
Probably around age 8 sitting on dad’s lap steering around an empty parking lot. We were living in Iowa at the time so I took a written test and got my learner’s permit at 14. This allows you to drive with a parent or guardian. After lessons on local roads I would take my turn driving on the interstates on family vacations. Did driver’s ed in high school and got my full license at 16. We then moved to Missouri and I had to re-take the written and driving test.
After university I moved to Arkansas just long enough to need a new license, that one was a straight swap. Same when I moved to Nebraska. I added motorcycle to the license there. Then moved to Kansas which was another straight swap. Moved to Texas and had to do the written test. Then moved to the UK and had to take both written and driving tests.
So in total that’s 4 written tests, 4 driving tests, and 7 different licenses.
Aside from sitting on my father’s lap and steering when I was six or so, my first driving would have been tractors on the farm. Then trucks and other vehicles on the farm - which included driving on the road between sections of the farm. When I was thirteen or so, I would routinely drive to the neighboring farm (half a mile or so) to pick up or deliver stuff. Backed over their mailbox once, had to replace it.
These stories are kind of crazy! I wonder how you people ever made it to adulthood.
I have no crazy stories like this. I attempted to learn driving from my mother once. Once. I scared her somehow, she screamed and turned the keys off the car, which resulted in a huge fight. I then learned to drive from my dad, and I have a great love of driving and can still parallel park perfectly (I just did on Saturday!)
I learned the stick in India, in Delhi, which is BATSHIT CRAZY driving. There are cars, rickshaws, bike rickshaws, people, dogs, cats, goats, cows, pigs, motorcycles, and three-wheeled rickshaws all careening across the road. No one pays attention to any of the laws, and if they need to cross the double yellow line they do so without a care in the world.
I don’t know how to drive a stick anymore, it’s been a long time. But I am sure I could pick it up - it’s got to be easier to drive it here.
I too first started driving the tractor on the farm at the age of 6 ish, no story there that I can remember.
The first time that I drove the farm pickup truck in the field I was about 8-10.
My father was walking beside throwing bale of hay in the box.
The truck would not move with no gas so my father had me put a little pressure on accelerator, that was fine until we go to a small ditch and the engine stalled out.
My father got in, restarted it and told me to give it a little more gas when we got to the next ditch.
Well, I’ll just say that I gave a little too much gas going over that second ditch, I let go of the pedal and the engine stalled out again.
I lived in downtown Toronto from 16 yrs of age and never needed a car. My college boyfriend (now hubby) had a car so if we needed one, we used his. It wasn’t until I was 32 and living in outer scuburbia of Beaconsfield Quebec that I was forced to learn. I had never even sat in the driver’s seat, turned on the ignition or ever put a car in gear, let alone drive one. My first lesson with some driving school was in a blizzard in March. I was gobsmacked when he wouldn’t cancel the lesson…he figured then was a good a time as any to learn to drive in a raging blizzard:-/
Add me to the list of people that started driving on a tractor.
When I was 13 I started sneaking drives in my mom’s car whenever my parents went out to dinner. At 14 my dad let me drive occasionally if we were running an errand, after letting me know that he knew about my clandestine escapes.
I bought a car when I was 15 and drove it when no one was looking, until finally getting my license.
I should probably mention we lived in a fairly rural area without much traffic.
When my older sister was learning to drive my mother let me drive around an empty parking lot for a few minutes. I was probably 11 or 12. I did pretty well considering it was a standard transmission. The first time I drove on the road was totally illegal. I was 16 I think but didn’t have my learner’s permit yet. The same sister let me drive her car 5 or 10 miles on a fairly busy road near her place.
My cousin was about 13 or 14 when she took the family car for a joyride in the middle of the night. She made it about 15 or 20 miles, some of it on a four-lane highway, before the cops pulled her over. Her parents had no idea she was even gone until the police called them.
