I learned to drive stick in my Dad's 1983 Jeep Laredo CJ7. Dad taught me in two phases. Phase one came when our big black lab, Murphy, was in need of a run. We'd grab the dog, jump in the jeep, Dad driving, and head toward some new subdivision developments a couple of miles away that were only developed as far as the streets.

On the way, I'd have a lesson at every stop and start. How to depress the clutch and release it in the proper gear slowly, but not too slow. Even a glimpse of the advanced downshift maneuver. Something reserved for a relative expert.

We'd get to the subdivision, Dad and the dog would hop out. We'd have the doors off the Jeep so I could better hear his feedback. He'd then send me toward a cul-de-sac in order to work through the first three gears at least. I'd drive back and then, after listening to my shift points, would provide me with feedback about watching the tachometer and that I should ease off the gas a bit more here or there. It was great.

On top of that, it turned out I was safer driving a manual transmission. For the first year or more of driving, I found that while driving Mom's Pontiac with an automatic transmission, I would daydream a bit and lose track of my immediate surroundings. With the manual transmission of the Jeep, I was required to be cognizant of my transmission, and that I was more mindful of my surroundings. A bonus, was that the Jeep was a much cooler set of wheels to drive.