I decided to learn to drive manual by thrusting myself through the Dallas, TX metro. The ultimate trial by fire.
I recently bought a manual 1999 Jeep TJ from a guy I met on craigslist with practically no prior manual driving experience. I was off to a good start.
It has a 2.5L I4 engine, which is known for being especially powerful; and a standard 5-speed transmission, which was a new sight to me as I’ve never owned a manual car. “2 brake pedals!?” I thought to myself, “man, this car must be really safe.”
Upon purchasing the Jeep, I had driven a manual for a grand total of 15 minutes approximately 4 years ago and I don’t remember it going particularly well. You could say I was heavily experienced.
As the new owner of a pristine 1999 Jeep TJ, I had no one around me to teach me to drive manual… so I turned to videos on the internet. While I have been lead astray by oodles of internet-goers many a time before, the people of the internet gave me some impeccable facts along my way learning to drive stick. Facts like, “don’t let off the clutch when you are in gear and at a stop.” This fact was especially helpful as I was troubleshooting why my new Jeep violently shook and died at stop lights... who knew? Or other facts like “don’t forget to take off the parking brake before you start moving.” Oops.
Instead of practicing to drive manual in an empty parking lot like a sane person, I decided that driving through east Texas and the Dallas metroplex would be the best way to solidify my newfound inability to drive a manual transmission. After purchasing the car, I dropped it off at my local repair shop to fix the A/C, as expected on any pristine 1999 Jeep TJ. Upon further inspection, my mechanic found, his words not mine, a “terrible rats nest of wires” under the dash. Hearing that phrase within hours of leaving for my long journey instilled magnitudes of confidence in me. Nonetheless, I was given the greenlight to take my car back.
I threw out any sense of reason I had left inside me and decided to make the journey anyway. Setting out to leave my apartment complex, I found myself stopping on a very slight incline waiting for the gate to open. By very slight, I mean about .5 degrees… okay, it was flat.
Crrggghuurrrr… stall.
After repeating that last occurrence a few more times, my confidence didn’t waver one bit.
Finally I got onto the roads and made my way through town on the way to the highway. I was driving well for someone who learned how to drive stick from internet videos he watched days ago – until I found myself on a hill at a stoplight. Behind me was a Nissan Sentra pulled up a little too close. By any normal means, this car was not expensive or fancy, but when you are sitting in front of it in a manual Jeep TJ with 1 hour of driving stick under your belt, it could just as well be a Ferrari 458 or a Lamborghini Veneno Roadster.
Nerves were high. This was the most stressful moment of my life.
Crrggghuurrrr… stall.
I inched closer to the front bumper of the Nissan Sentra whose owner was unaware of my shenanigans due to what I would hope was an enthralling text conversation with her husband Brad. Beads of sweat began flying off my face as I tried to instill myself with confidence.
Crrggghuurrrr… Crrggghuurrrr…
The old Jeep lurched forward and I continued onto the highway. For someone driving a manual, you likely realize that the highway is the best place to be. You don’t need to shift, you don’t need to do anything, just drive. This is all great, but I was on the highway in a 1999 Jeep Wrangler TJ.
Don’t get me wrong, this car is cooler than dry ice, but comfort was not in the vocabulary of it’s designer. It was louder than the flight deck of an aircraft carrier inside the metal box. Steering was reminiscent of sailing a boat using only a desk fan. Engine capability was similar to a snail who had just drank an off brand energy drink called “Blue Cow.” The vehicle was designed with the aerodynamics of a brick.
All of this aside, I was having the time of my life. The top speed of my Jeep is somewhere around 75. The engineers at Jeep who designed the car nearly 20 years ago naively maxed out the odometer at 100. I would imagine to reach that speed I would need help from 2 rocket boosters. Even then it would be questionable.
I continued on the highway for 100 miles without issue until I saw something that made me begin sweating profusely again. A long line of red brakelights. I had hit traffic.
Clutch – Neutral – Brakes – Stop.
Clutch – First – Gas – Eeeeek – Clutch – Brakes – Stop.
Clutch – First – Gas – Crrggghuurrrr [violent shaking]… stall – [Laughter of Drivers Behind Me]
This cycle continued for what felt like an eternity. We moved 1 mile down the highway in 25 minutes and I was finally free. I began accelerating and slowly reached 45 mph, which in a 1999 Jeep TJ is the bottom end of 5th. Driving was a breeze from then on out until I got off the highway and the trials continued.
The same patterns of movements and stalls continued but became less frequent. I was learning. Albeit in the most stressful way that a person has ever learned to drive stick, but I WAS LEARNING.
Finally I arrived at my destination feeling like I was on top of the world when in reality I just narrowly avoided a number of collisions and likely shortened the life of my transmission by many miles – but I did it. 200 miles later I know how to drive a stick and I’m pretty sure a love affair between my Jeep and I is being kindled. Don’t tell my wife.
So, if you want to learn stick as fast as possible, ditch the boring old parking lots and take a road trip into one of the busiest cities in the country. I promise at the end of it, you’ll know how to drive stick.
No promises on whether your car will still be working or not.
BONUS: Here's an adorable photo of me teaching my 1 year old daughter how to drive stick.
