Mine was pretty awesome, and likely cemented my gearheadedness for the future. When I was a kid my dad decided to fully restore a rustbucket ‘57 MGA. I had little to no interest in the restoration process, but once he finished it he would drive it to the big national MGA show every year and bring myself or my brother with him. When I was 14 the show was in Chattanooga, Tennessee and it was my turn to go. We left our house in Plano, Texas around 5am and drove for a few hours in the dark, eventually meeting up with a few other crazy people who thought driving a tiny 50 year old British roadster cross-country with no support vehicles was a good idea.

Of course once we got close to Tennessee we got off the highway and switched to backroads in order to take the Blue Ridge Parkway. It was on the Parkway that my dad pulled into a turnoff and asked if I wanted to drive. My first driving experience was in a baby blue ‘57 MGA 1500 4-speed on the Blue Ridge Parkway. From that day there was no turning back.

My brother’s first driving experience was in an Olds Delta ‘88. He has zero interest in cars.