idaho 1:2
Hold the clutch in, I was yelling at Jill, as the car lunged and scraped, Hold the clutch in until you're really going. I had my doubts about teaching her to drive, but I'd weighed the advantages and disadvantages. On the negative side, knowing how to drive, she could steal the car and take off without us, which struck me as a valid possibility. Also negative, she was underage even for a learner's permit, but she was plenty tall enough, and I figured, whatever state we were in, I could say we were from some other state where the ages of majority were more flexible. She's been driving a tractor since she was a pup, sure a help around the farm, a girl 'at can drive. Our license plates changed every time our old beat-up car died and had to be replaced with a new beat-up car. We'd be hard to trace on a trip such as this. I didn't even know just where we'd been, let alone where we were going. Plenty of gas, I yelled, which she interpreted to mean all the gas - she floored it in first gear and the tires span; she jammed it into second without clutching, her foot forgotten on the gas pedal as she struggled to steer through the narrow streets of the campground.
move on...