So, it has been on my list of side quests (I know, I know..) for years to learn how to drive a manual transmission car. Unlike many other side quests, this one was a relatively low barrier to entry. I found a driving school near my home and finally pulled the trigger. I booked the appointment and didn’t look back.
On the day of the lesson, I arrived to the driving school. The driving instructor showed up a little before the scheduled lesson time. He drove us to the site of the lesson, asking my motivations for wanting to learn how to drive manuals. I offered a brief explanation of how I made it this far without learning the platform, and then mentioned that it was always on the To Do list. Wait for the 12th of Never? No, I’m done with that, and the instructor seemed to appreciate me ripping the band-aid off. No time like the present, even if you have no pressing need to learn something.
I asked him about my pet hypothesis; was it better to buy a $1500 shitbox as a get good car, or best to go for what I truly wanted directly? He opted for the latter, his reasoning that the manual transmission car of your dreams is the car you’ll be less likely to develop bad habits with. He was quite proud of the fact that he coaches bad habits out of people, openly bragging that his driving school has never had to replace a clutch before.
He pulled us into a local mall. The fact that it was two hours prior to opening, and that we’re in the World of Bezos now ensured that the lot was empty. He then briefly explained how a manual transmission works. After that, he quipped that each manual driving lesson came with a free Buddhist meditation session, as calmness was key. I accepted his yuppie-ness quirk at face value as he had me get into the driver’s seat. It was time to put into practice what he just went over. Within the course of the next thirty minutes, I stalled the car twice. Thank Buddha that we were in an empty lot!
The instructor had me stop the car. He then walked me through the Buddhist art of deep breaths before having me repeat the exercise he originally gave me. This time, I was not to let the clutch out so goddamn quickly (my term, not his; such fowl language is unbecoming of a respectable yuppie-Buddhist).
After I had managed to drive in ovals through the vacant parking lot a few circuits (without stalling this time), he had me drive to a section of the parking lot that was on an incline. From there, he had me practice hill starts. Upon receiving his explanation, I sprang into action. As a result, the car started rolling backwards. Turns out, the clutch has to be pressed all the way to the floor…
Fortunately, I quickly got the hang of starting from a hill, and he had me complete some uphill-downhill oval circuits. During the downhill sections he filled me in on the concept of engine braking; this was the rare concept that I had managed to get right on the first attempt. After that, he had me bring the car to a complete stop. He taught me some intentionally bad habits, such as letting the clutch out too fast and taking off from a dead stop in second gear.
“That’s the thing about standards; you get instant feedback” he quipped as I felt the uncomfortable rumbling beneath my seat.
Soon after that, He had me drive to another remote section of the parking lot. The instructor stated that he’d shut up and let me drive and shift as I felt the car needed. He had me pull all the way into a spot. We went over how to reverse, which admittedly was not that hard. I felt that I was starting to get the hang of this whole manual thing.
The instructor assumed control of his car once more, as he drove us to another abandoned parking lot. This time, instead of a shopping mall that hadn’t opened yet, it was a department store that had long passed it’s 1990’s heyday. This part of the lesson, he assured, would be more kinetic and less verbal. The expectation was kind but clear; I was to make several laps around the boarded-up Christmas Tree Shop without stalling, shifting into the wrong gear, or forgetting that the clutch needs to go all the way to the fucking floor. I want to be able to say that I executed all three of those flawlessly, but I’d be lying.
At this point, I had started to think that the typical Buddhist monk would be jealous of this guy’s patience. Rather than angrily preaching me on the errors of my ways, he would simply ask what went wrong on that? every time I shifted into third instead of first, or didn’t press the clutch all the way to the goddamn floor. He wound up making me say out loud clutch to the floor every time I shifted for the rest of the lesson.
Eventually, I got the hang of it, even shifting up to third gear (correctly!) during a few of these laps as I encircled the long-foreclosed department store. Better yet, I had even gotten the hang of downshifting too. I had milked nearly everything I could out of this session. Admittedly, I was starting to feel good about myself.
The instructor took over as he drove us back to his storefront. He gave me a debrief as he prepared his system for my payment. He even offered a free 20-minute follow-up lesson or to ride-along with me for a test drive if I opted to buy a manual car within a 20-mile radius of his homebase. I paid a multi-hundred-dollar amount for the lesson. While I’m going to be lambasted in the comments for the price tag, the only thing I regretted was not doing this sooner.
However, unlike my recent First Aid lesson, this lesson didn’t come with any nerve-racking tremors upon sitting in my driver’s seat. I drove myself home in my automatic, thinking about how cool it would be to have my very own standard. I got home and then started casually surfing the internet for manual cars from my preferred manufacturer. While I’m not in the market to buy a new car, I feel that I can definitely get into the driver’s seat of a manual now.
My mind was locked in a metaphorical Dragon Ball Z style beam struggle as I perused online ads for manual cars. It was save every last dollar, combine it with a trade in and my upcoming bonus to get the car I really want locked in a Kamehameha against Dude, just get a $1500 shitbox manual as your “get good” car. Unlike the Cell Games, I’m not sure which side is winning this struggle.
Have I mentioned that your brain is plastic and you can learn anything you want?
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