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Anybody else have a field car when growing up?
I grew up out in the sticks, more or less. We had a grass airstrip and when I was 9, my dad gave me his 61 beetle and cut a mile of trails out of the brush down the sides and at the end. That's how I learned to drive.
I cried like a baby the first time I caught air and nosed in some sand at the bottom of a dropoff. Not because I was hurt, I felt horrible for hurting the car.
My dad laughed his big laugh, hugged me, and said "come on, let's fix it."
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