My little red truck is back on the road … and I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I got back behind the wheel.

My little red truck is just that, a 1998 Ford Ranger. No frills. Standard transmission. Four cylinders. 175,000 miles, of which I put on about 100,000 over the past five years. Dents and dings all over the place. Mismatched tail lights. A fair amount of Swiss cheese effect on the bumper and quarter panels from years of New York winters. Even a drip on the passenger side when it gets caught in a downpour.

I bought it for two reasons. A) I wanted a truck. B) It was getting real difficult driving our Taurus after Karen died — too many memories.

It was also the first vehicle I bought entirely on my own {without any input} in about 45 years. Sure, I bought a lot of vehicles over those years, but I always at least talked to Karen about it before making the purchase. I didn’t always listen to her counsel, mind you, but I did talk to her.

This wasn’t my first truck. I had another red Ranger Karen hated and a yellow Mitsubishi she hated even more. And when I worked in Illinois, I was responsible for our modest fleet of trucks — ranging from a Scout {also known for its porous rear floorboard} to a one-seat delivery van {known as the milk truck} to pick-ups to box vans. I often brought one of them home at night.

But this truck has been different. It has become a trusted friend. It has enough vim and vigor to keep me honest {I do have to check the speedometer occasionally because it will sort of take off on you, especially if you have a heavy foot} while still getting in the mid 20s mpg. It has taken me to various destinations in New York as well as to Maine, Massachusetts, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Ohio and even Illinois without so much of a whimper. Despite being a light two-wheeler, it weathered snow, wind, rain and bitter cold. The only negative is it is not power nap friendly.

The dogs loved the truck as well — at least Tess, our Havanese did. Tag didn’t like traveling too much, but Tess was quite at home in the truck. In fact, if I left the door open for some reason, I would often find her sitting in the seat waiting for me. She especially like looking out the open back cargo window. She was my shotgun while delivering my papers.

I gave it a rest over this past winter. It needed some work to get through inspection in November and since I had the Subaru for winter driving and was running a little tight on cash, I took it off the road.

But it’s back. And it has been quite a rush driving it around with the windows open and the radio cranked up {have you noticed country sounds a lot better in a pick up truck?}.

Here’s to summer and my little red truck!

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Inflation makes you realize you never had it so good — so briefly.