Nikolai Serdyukov — blogger
- Telegram
This piece explores the very first car moment in Nikolai’s life through a personal recollection shared in conversation. The story centers on a young driver in a bustling family, the family’s old but stubborn vehicle, and the stubborn, stubborn lessons that come with learning to drive in a way that sticks for a lifetime. It’s a memory that hovers between humor and seriousness, a reminder that a driver’s education often begins with a mix of chaos, patience, and a stubborn push to keep going.
The first car for Nikolai was a VAZ-2107, commonly known as a classic in many yards. It was not just a vehicle but a training ground where family life and responsibility intersected. He learned to steer, accelerate, and manage a car that had seen better days, and the experience was shared with a large family—four children in the back and a parent guiding from the front. The moments in the fields of Stavropol, under the watchful eye of a father who believed in practical teaching, became the backdrop for a rite of passage. The initial attempts were far from smooth, and the learning process felt almost like a playful challenge, with siblings crowding into the back seat and turning each session into a test of nerve and endurance.
At sixteen, the learner found the situation bewildering. Three pedals, a brake and a clutch, a gear lever that sometimes refused to engage because it had seen better days, and an engine that whispered rather than roared. The father would urge, “Listen to the engine!” but the young driver could only hear a jumble of sounds and a chorus of questions. The memory of those early drives is framed by a mix of frustration and laughter—an attempt to find a rhythm that would eventually make sense out of the chaos. The scene often included the back seat erupting in giggles, as the learner struggled to interpret what the engine was saying and how to match it to the right gear. It was a period of trial, error, and a few tears, where mistakes were abundant and patience was scarce yet somehow persistent.
As the lessons continued, the family’s learning dynamics shifted. The car’s small cabin became a stage for a family education in road responsibility. The driver slowly learned that turning signals are not a mere formality but a lifeline for everyone on the road, and that safe driving goes beyond handling the vehicle. The father’s method, perhaps rough around the edges, helped instill a deeper understanding: this is not a toy, and the consequences of carelessness extend beyond personal comfort to the safety of others. Those early drives, though painful at times, laid down foundational habits that stayed with Nikolai well into adulthood. The siblings watched, imitating and learning, and the repeated attempts eventually produced a sense of mastery—gradually, the car began to feel less like a rickety machine and more like a trusted ally on the road.
There were days when exhaustion overwhelmed the learner and the field offered a quiet, solitary walk home. The experience was not about relentless praise; it was about real-world lessons learned through stress and persistence. The father’s firm but earnest guidance created a clear understanding: driving is a serious responsibility, not a casual pastime. The result was a transformed perspective on life behind the wheel. It showed that learning to drive is as much about discipline and caution as it is about mastering pedals and gears. This memory stands as a testament to the idea that the road demands attention, respect, and a willingness to grow.
Looking back, the narrator recognizes why those lessons mattered. They fostered gratitude for the patience that helped him see through the frustration, and they illuminate a broader truth about road safety. The learning process highlighted the importance of staying focused, signaling intent, and recognizing how each action affects the safety of every traveler. The story ends with a reflection on modern drivers who may rush through life without appreciating the responsibility that comes with controlling a vehicle. The memory is a reminder that early training—even when tough and emotionally charged—can yield lifelong awareness and respect for the road.
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Many readers may find echoes of their own beginnings in this tale. The central question remains: could a novice, under calm and patient guidance, learn to explain their own driving to someone else and progress toward success without breaking into tears or frustration? The answer lies in thoughtful instruction, steady practice, and a readiness to grow together with the learner. It is a reminder that teaching driving is as much about empathy as it is about technique and that true progress comes from steady, compassionate guidance.
* “Driving” reminds readers that children should not operate a car unsupervised.