Driver's Test

Driver's Test

　

It was 6 years since I had arrived in Winnipeg fresh off our Saskatchewan farm. All this time I had survived without a driver's license due to the facts that Winnipeg in 1966 still had an excellent bus system that was easy and cheap to access and also because I couldn't up to now really afford afford a car.

That all changed when my brother decided to that he wanted to get his Master's degree in civil engineering at Georgia Tech. He was enrolled for the fall semester. This was just a few months away but he had decided on doing a road trip of about 6 weeks through the U.S. prior to him leaving by plane from Winnipeg to Atlanta in Georgia where the university was located. He invited me to join him in Chicago when I had finished my teaching for that school year. But he said that in order to travel with him I would have to share the driving!

"That means you need to get a license now! Before I leave! So I can see it in your hand! Understand?"

I understood. He would even lend me his car for the test. His car was a 1959 Porsche convertible. It was unique and rare for its time in Winnipeg. I had driven it before because I had got my learner's license a year previously and so I could drive the Porsche with him in the passenger seat. I loved that car! I made an appointment for a road test. The driver testing was located on Portage Avenue near Sherburn Street.

The day of the test, my brother and I drove to the test site and we parked in the huge lot behind the building. As we got out of the car which had its top down, he handed me the keys, wished me luck, and set off for home which was about a dozen blocks away.

Wow! Talk about confidence or pressure. Confidence in that he was trusting that I would pass my test and be able to drive home! Pressure in the fact that if I failed I would have to phone him and he would have to walk the dozen blocks back to get his car which I wouldn't be able to drive home.

"I guess I better pass!" was my only thought.

I entered the building, paid for my test, took a number and sat down with a dozen other hopefuls. We were an interesting lot. Our confidence levels ranged from extremely cocky to "ashen-faced-I-am-so-nervous-I-am-going-to-be-sick!"

Slowly our numbers dwindled. Then my number came up and a portly young man summoned me for my test! This was a momentous time for me. We walked down a hall and out a back door to the parking lot. He asked me where the car that I would be driving was . I led him to the Porsche. He stopped and looked at me and looked at the car and looked at me again.

"Uh oh!" I thought to myself. "This does not bode well for me." He looked at me again and my immediate thought was that coming to take a test in a Porsche was not a wise idea. He probably figured that I would be a speed demon and to give me a pass would be to invite damnation on all Winnipeg drivers! That was what I was thinking.

He looked at me and then asked me how I had I got to this parking lot! Had I driven the car there by myself and then walked into the building pretending that I had been driven there? A wrong answer here would cook my goose before I even started!

"No," I stammered. "My brother whose car this is, drove me here. And since we live not too far away, he gave me the keys and then just walked home. I guess by doing that he was trying to tell me something! That he had confidence thatI would pass! I hope it was confidence."

The examiner looked at me, smiled, and said, "Let's start!"

We got in and I asked him to belt in. He looked at me and asked if it was going to be that kind of driving-test.

I replied that it wouldn't be but that that car was very manueverable and responded very quickly to any steering changes. He smiled, belted in, and we were off with the wind rippling our hair and the shine shining down warmly upon us. The examiner had a pleased look on his face and looked like he was going to enjoy his ride in this sporty convertible.

The test went well and the car and I responded well and correctly to all his driving instructions. He looked to be really enjoying himself and I began to think that maybe  my test was running longer than usual because he was enjoying himself so much when he finally gave me the directions which brought us back to the parking lot.

After I parked, he looked down at his clipboard upon which he had been writing during my test. He looked at me and then told me that I had done well. He was very impressed with my shpoulder checking and the fact that I knew where the traffic was in close proximity to me. He said he felt safe while I was driving but that he had one bit of advice for me.

I looked questioningly at him and he smiled and said, " When you change several lanes, don't do it the way most driving instructors teach you - that is check and move over one lane and then check and move over another lane. If you see that you are clear to change lanes, do it in one clean shift. And thanks for the ride in this wonderful piece of machinery!"

Inside my mind, I was doing hand springs and cartwheels of jubilation! I had my license! U.S. vacation here I come!

We went inside and in a very short while I had my piece of paper saying I was legal to drive a standard-shift auto in Manitoba. I drove home with the cheesiest grin on my face. As I turned into the parking spot in the back of our house, my brother was standing there with 2 beers in his hands. H e put them down and clapped as I parked. When I got out, he handed me a beer and we toasted my success and the time together we would spend on our time together south of the border.