Being a junior dairyman, Sam Dorah had been driving for years, and now he had a driver’s license. All he needed was a set of wheels, and he and Armen had their ticket to their trailhead of choice. There were wheels to be had at the dairy, so Sam put in a request one morning at the breakfast table.
“Mom, Dad.”
“Yeap,” Mr. Dorah casually acknowledged.
“Armen invited me on a backpacking trip.”
“Oh that sounds like a good idea,” Mrs. Dorah approved.
“Yes,” Mr. Dorah agreed. “Plan on hiking into any forest fires?”
“No … No!” Sam decided to sound more certain. He continued. “I … I was wondering if we could take the old Ford up.”
“Hmmm …” Mr. Dorah considered, twirling a toothpick between his lips.
“She might not like the thin air.”
“Oh” Sam acknowledged and nodded.
“I’ll give the carb and valves a look-over.”
“Oh! Thanks, Dad.”
“Well, we’ll see.”
Sam got his answer in a couple days. The pickup was his for the trip. He suddenly felt a rush of manhood. He’d driven around the county before for the dairy, but he’d never got to drive out of the Sink, or even gone on so much as a joy ride. He was on his own to go where he chose, if only for this one time.