Big wheels got me dreamin'

I never thought I’d say this; I’m a closet truck guy. My wife got a new one recently and I’m having a ball driving it. Who’d have thunk it, huh?

I mean, let’s consider what we’re talking about here. Before I met my wife, I hadn’t really driven a truck of any kind. The odd cube van whenever I moved from one place to another, and that only in the past couple of moves due to sheer accumulation of stuff.

Maybe a pick-up truck once or twice because someone asked me to move a vehicle so another could exit a party.

The fact is trucks just weren’t on my radar. For what would I need a truck?

A little voice in the back of my mind insisted that trucks were harder on gas, not as good in the snow as a car and required so much more parking area that they were simply impractical for anyone who didn’t need one.

And my wife’s old truck confirmed all of those suspicions even though it was as hardy a vehicle as any out there and it more than filled the bill when it came to her work.

She’s a landscaper and has to have a tough unit that can handle brush, bark mulch, rocks, stones, sticks, soil, tools and devices.

Her 10-year-old Ranger XL did all of that and more, even though it was smaller than her current vehicle. It was rugged in a way that impressed me, but I was never sold on its efficacy.

Little did I know how easy a mark I’d be. You see, mechanical things wear out eventually and such was the case with her tiny workhorse. It wound up needing one thing or another and we had a decision to make: new or used.

It’s a huge debate and each road has its pros and cons. With pre-owned, you don’t get dinged with the depreciation that occurs the minute you drive a new vehicle off the lot, but used cars are simply that; they’ve been around the block and sometimes in ways that have really stressed the car.

In the end, we opted for a lease arrangement. She has a new truck, the warranty that goes with it and the pleasure of driving something that rivals old faithful in size and power, though not in payload.

Seems the sport model we selected doesn’t have a seven-foot box, which is what the old model had. People say size doesn’t matter and good things come in small packages, but if you’re hauling stuff, size is a key player.

For her, it’s a small quibble. Me? I could care less. Since I don’t have to worry about what I’m hauling and why, the joy of riding high and feeling the thrust of a three-liter V-6 engine is what it’s all about.

I’m up there, man, king of the castle in that bad boy. None of this low-rider stuff for me anymore. I want the nosebleed section that allows me a bird’s-eye view of all that lay before me.

Face it; there’s something cool about the way a truck rumbles through traffic. It gives a certain degree of confidence that no matter the conditions, you can handle it.

Yes, I like our family car and the fact the kids fit in perfectly. But the truck is a new way to get from point A to point B and the technology trucks have now make them feel so much like a car in terms of ride that it’s tough to say which vehicle rivals the other when it comes to driving pleasure.

Yeah, I’m hooked. I don’t know what’s next f and where this fascination will take me, but I think as I drive along Commercial Street, if a pick-up truck’s this fun, what would an 18-wheeler be like?

That’s right. An 18-wheeler. Skyscraper high and gears as hot as molten steel. Maybe that’ll be my next trick; a ride around town in one of those babies just to get the feel. My guess is I’ll like it and then we’ll really be up the creek.

Our driveway’s far too narrow for a truck that size.