Truck musing

I have a four-year-old Nissan Frontier Crew Cab. Not fancy. V6, manual transmission, power options, and a tow hitch. No premium sound. No leather. No sunroof. There's a hint of rust starting on the door sill. The tires will need replacing this year. The brakes need some attention.

The bed has accumulated the detritus that seems to be the hallmark of trucks: a broken bungee cord, a double-handful of wet and moldy hay and leaves, a hank of faded nylon rope, an empty soda bottle or two.

There's a ding in the hood from a rock falling off a semi.

A scratch on the bumper from a loose cart.

A scuff in the fender from a close encounter with the garage.

A crease in the quarter panel from another cart. (By the by, please, put your damn carts in the corral.)

A stain on the back seat from a spilled Coke.

There's a bit of a bloodstain on the center console from a bloody sleeve after dressing out a deer.

For all that, though, it's still my truck. Maybe even because of all that.

It doesn't clean up quite like it did when it was new - I washed it weekly and waxed it monthly for a year or so. Now it gets washed a couple times a year, and I pay the car wash another $5 for the wax option.


(Two days after I got it.)

I haven't done much to customize it - I added a toolbox and a few decals. No lift. No new rims. No fancy lights.



It is, unapologetically, a work truck. Sometimes I'd like a bigger truck. A bit more towing capacity, or a little more cab space, or a longer bed.

I looked at the numbers for an F-150 the other day.

I can't park one in my garage.

Guess I'm sticking with a midsize. :-)