Part of the Apprenticeship: Catbus

One of the aspects of Kale’s apprenticeship that is important but not obvious involves “Catbus” – our 1996 Mitsubishi Minicab. It’s a Japanese import, right-hand drive and has a manual four-speed transmission.

The little truck is invaluable for gathering and moving materials around the city. The back flaps of the truck all fold down, offering a low flat-bed truck. When we need to move books, T-shirts, lumber or tools, Catbus is almost always my first choice.

But I grew up with manual transmission cars and trucks. Everything on the farm had a clutch (a few things also had a “choke” to mix the air and fuel). So you had to learn to make everything go – even the stomp-dancing double-clutching needed with non-synchronous transmissions.

But that’s not the world we live in today. Hell, I leave Catbus unlocked most times. If a thief can start and drive the thing, perhaps they’re really earned it.

Not only is the steering wheel on the right side, most of the controls and text in the truck is in Japanese. The original Japanese radio is unlike anything in the U.S.

Kale seemed a little apprehensive about Catbus at first, which is totally understandable. But after a lesson from Megan¹ and a couple test drives with me in passenger seat, we let Kale run wild.

At first, Kale didn’t go above second gear for what seemed like a long time. That gets you to 25 miles per hour, which is fine for getting around Covington.

But it doesn’t get you to the home center. For that, you need fourth gear, and you need to learn to clutch up some steep hills.

Why did we insist Kale learn to drive the Minicab? Well, it wasn’t just to be able to get materials. Catbus, like all the machines and tools we use here, feels awkward and dangerous at first. Do you remember your first time on a table saw or shaper? (I can’t.)

But I remember the first time my mom taught me to drive stick. We lived on Wildcat Mountain, so I had to learn to clutch on a steep hill within 30 seconds of starting the car. It stands out as one of the more stressful moments of my teen years (almost as bad as a school dance).

Mastering stick shift is an inward and outward way of achieving freedom. Freedom from having someone drive you around. Freedom from your home. Suddenly your world is a lot bigger – and everyone around you also notices it.

Mastering the block plane (or dovetail saw or plow plane) is also a lot like that.