Cruising

[Mike P]

This has absolutely nothing to do with crossbows. It has everything to do with life. It has everything to do with a soon to be forgotten slice of that life. It is about the end of an era.

I was at the gas station last night putting fuel in my Tundra. For me, every visit to the gas station is a play in progress. The actors are from all walks of life. And the vehicles they are all feeding are somewhat indicators of what their walk in life is about. From the high end Mercedes pumping premium to the beat up compact fifteen year old sedan only receiving five gallons as the price to fill it is not within the owners present financial budget, all walks of life are present.

But last night a particular group of actors caught my eye. I saw an older Dodge Durango at the pump opposite the side of the fuel island from my truck. There were four young boys in the Durango. They looked like good kids, dressed in jeans and tee shirts depicting everything from heavy metal bands to John Deere tractors. But they were all pretty clean cut and there was not a tattoo to be seen. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against tattoos. I am just making an observation about the possible background of these four young men. I would guess the age of all four to be in the seventeen to eighteen year range. They were obviously just getting ready to set off on their evening’s adventure, no doubt one that involved the pursuit of four young ladies. I smiled at one of the boys standing next to the boy pumping the fuel and asked “Where you guys off to for fun tonight?” The boy smiled back at me and told me they were going to a German food festival taking place at a community some twenty miles from the location of the gas station. I told them to have fun and be safe and watched the four do the math and all throw money into the hand of the driver and he took his “gas money” in to pay for his purchase. He came back from paying for the gas and the four were on their way to a wonderful carefree night, a night similar to ones enjoyed by youths for generations before them. I finished up the tundra and peeked around the island to see how much fuel they had purchased. The pump read $86.00.

When I was driving home I started to think about my evenings so long ago. The evenings where my buddy’s and I would do the same thing these lads had just done. The first stop of our evening was at the gas station. We needed fuel for the evening’s fun. And like the young men, we would pony up the cash and split the gas bill amongst us. But for us, that meant throwing a buck or two in the kitty. Gas was less then fifty cents a gallon.

Eighty-six dollars I thought. Eighty-six dollars! Each of those kids had thrown over twenty bucks into that kitty. That old Durango was getting twelve miles per gallon if it was lucky. The price of pursuing young ladies has been adversely affected by the price of a barrel of oil.

I don’t know about you, but when I was young and of similar age we went cruising. For us, that meant covering a lot of ground. We would hit the dairy queen in Brady first. All the kids from around Brady always met there first. That’s where plans were formed. Strategies were drawn out. Meeting places and times were determined. And then we were all off.

Some would make the hour long drive to the big city, San Angelo. Others would take the forty-five minute drive north to Brownwood. Some would head south to Llano, a mere thirty-five minute drive. Many had been known to make all three cities within one evening. Did I mention there were no speed limits? Yep, that’s right. A safe and reasonable speed was all that was required in rural Texas on those yardstick straight stretches of blacktop connecting small towns. And safe and reasonable was up to the interpretation of the driver. It was glorious!

When you reached the other cities, and I use that term city loosely, you still cruised. You cruised the A&W Root Beer stands, the Dairy Queens, and most of all, the Big Boy over in San Angelo. You watched the hopped up Chevy’s and Dodges and argued amongst yourselves as to which was the fastest. And of course you never lost sight of the girls. After all, most of us driving the family F-150 just looked at the cars with envy. We had no chance of ever owning anything remotely close to those cars. We knew why we were there. No, we never lost sight of the girls.

Eighty-Six Dollars! Now I know these four boys would not be eating up that entire amount of fuel running around greater Cincinnati tonight. But they would use a substantial portion. And then I thought of the kids growing up where I grew up. And I thought of the kids all over in rural America. And it dawned on me. Cruising must have died. How did I miss its passing?

I was ashamed of myself. I somehow didn’t notice the death of a great American tradition. I knew it had carried on until just recently. I always chuckled at the kids with the Honda Civics with the tailpipes as big around as a small garbage can. And it was not lost on me the speeds these kids were getting out of their “rice rockets.” But I know that the kids around Brady, Texas don’t have money falling out of their pockets. And I know rural kids all over must not be able to afford to fuel the family sedan or van and travel to the larger towns or cities sixty or more miles away from their home, farm or ranch. I just didn’t realize what had happened until I saw the boys fill up that Durango. Cruising had died!

When I got home from filling the Tundra I looked at my wife and said “Did you know that cruising had died?” She looked at me, thought for a moment and said “Your right, we haven’t been out in your old Porsche since last summer.”

She is a city girl. I knew she wouldn’t understand so I just let the subject drop.

[flbuckmaster]

I think cruising died about 2-3 years ago when gas hit $2.50 a gallon. I remember how mad I was driving my converted shuttle bus/camper 200 miles to a hunting area. The poor mans rv gets about 10 miles/gallon pulling my trailor with my kawasaki mule aboard. I calculated the trip would cost me over $100 in fuel. I thought "This hunting was getting expensive"! Now the same trip would cost me over $175. Sadly....I dont make that trip anymore. I wont be making alot of hunting trips that I used to make each year without hesitation. This situation hits me hard in the gut as I dont have any control over it. I didnt do anything wrong, but gas prices are taking away the very reason I exist, to go hunting in the fall and winter. And it doesnt look like it going to get any better....

jay

[Bow Life]

I totally understand these boys position. Im in the very same.

When i first started driving at 16 gas was 70 - 80 cents a litre. That wasnt bad, we'd fill up my Mazda Pickup or my friends Pontiac Montana and go out for the night. Between 3 or 4 guys about 15 bucks was the cost for the nights transportation. To us that was cheap, and what a sight it was to see 4 highschool football players pile out of that beat up Mazda pickup.

The trouble we got ourselves into was never too deep, but we always had a great time.

Merely 2 years later its a Dodge 1500, an old Jeep and a Chev 1500 Diesel and gas is $1.40 a litre. Its atleast 20 bucks a person to fill any which one and we now look for cheaper entertainment. The local bar now charges 8 bucks an hour to play pool (used to be free) and even the food prices around here are going up. We no longer go cruising along the river, or 4x4ing or even to the places that are farther away that we always used to go as much as we always did. We stick close to home.

This hasnt cut back on our fun, we still enjoy ourselves, but it means we have to work harder to stay closer to home. We put in more hours to go out and spend more. The price of everything is rising and its a shame. We still rip down the dirt trails in the jeep, but alot less often. We still go out to the river, but the crowd there is getting smaller.

Makes me wonder how bad it is going to be for future generations that dont live so close to town...

[Wayne B]

When I was growing up. I came from a family of 4 boys. Three of us had our drivers licence at the same time. My mom would keep tabs on whose turn it was to take the car by writing it down on the calendar. ( Saved a lot of arguments ) She also kept tract whose turn it was to do the dishes on the calendar. Hmm.. common theme here. Anyway, my dad had one rule and that was to leave as much gas in it at the end of the evening as it had at the start. For a night of cruising it cost $2.00