Once upon a time there was a maroon truck. Wait, forget it, that opening has been used before.  However, speaking about used, this story is about a used maroon truck. That’s it.  There are no deep philosophical messages hidden within the words of the story.  Nothing to contemplate, analyze or ponder at length.  I might also add that is is based on a true story.

I first noticed the maroon truck some years ago.  A brief explanation is in order here before we go on.  In this community, the maroon truck town, it is called a pickup (short for pickup truck).  Here, trucks are bigger vehicles, generally used for hauling grain at harvest time, and delivering the grain to elevators.  Alright then, this story takes place in a small, rural farming and ranching community in northeastern Montana.  Now, however, my wife, Theresa and I have “semi-retired” to Bozeman, a larger, more urban town, with traffic lights and all, so it is probably prudent to refer to it as a truck.  In the new town, pickups are trucks.  Good, that issue has been resolved.

Anyway, the maroon truck is late 60s, early 70’s vintage, generally run down in appearance, but still running and doing its job.  Rust spots are seen here and there, the taillight and rear bumper are missing and a faded black stripe runs along the apparently oft-replaced door on the shotgun side (In Bozeman, this would be called the passenger side door).  I’ll tell you, next to driving these rigs, there is nothing more fun than “ride’n shotgun.”  Besides, when you had to ride “the hump,” you were always in the way of the stick shift. Bummer.

I drive a silver vehicle.  No stripes, neat and tidy.  Not noticed in a crowd.  How did we get on my vehicle since this is about the maroon truck?  Get back on track mister.

My thoughts roam.  Think of people.  We are often “categorized” as having a certain personality or, one might say, character.  On vehicles, it’s  the basic color.  The offset, let’s say in my case, the maroon truck here, is our “side,” or “other” personality.  Sometimes it is noticed more than we prefer.  It’s like…Oh, I didn’t know that about you, or “wow, okay, maybe I shouldn’t have…” etc…you get the picture.  Offset, opposing, fun, scary, naughty, and real.  I digress, this story is about the maroon truck.

The strangest thing about the maroon truck was its constant presence.  Let me backup (not the truck, the story).  Each day I would drive from our house to my office, which was about a mile down the hill.  My schedule included numerous trips up and down the hill each day.  Lunch break, exercise break, “crisis at home” break.  I went to and from the office a lot. To school when the kids were growing up, to the grocery story, the ER for the bike wreck scrapes, etc.  You are starting to see where this is going now, so stay awake.

The thing is, on a lot of my trips around town, the maroon truck was also out and about.  At 6 am, heading to the office (that is part of my main color—early morning is the most productive, most clear headed part of the day—give me the early a.m., a cup of good coffee, and hey I’m okay with the world.  Not necessarily happy, but okay.  Get some office work out, do some original thought work…). 

Now, for an example of one of my offset color items, well I…wait, this story is about the maroon truck, not my faults.  You see, the maroon truck was out and about whenever I was out.  On my way down the hill, the maroon truck was heading up.  On my way across town, the maroon truck was heading the other direction.   Note well this next sentence and I will let you go for awhile.  The maroon truck was out with the silver vehicle and heading the other way.

Maybe my vehicle color is like my “character.”  It’s with us, always there.  It’s who we are, the essence of our being.  Then there is the maroon truck, an offset, sometimes bent, rusted and flawed.  Heading the other way, but around.  Oh, it’s there alright; sometimes we don’t want to see it, and sometimes it’s just plain fun, a little off if you will.

Now, to be fair here, how about the guy in the maroon truck?  To him (guys drive trucks in the old town, gals drive cars, SUVs and the like), his personality is the maroon truck.  My silver vehicle is the offset, heading the other way.  He can think of my “character” as being a bit stuffy, kind of boring, and you, reader are starting to yawn.  He is probably grateful that he has a cool main color.

What do I love about Bozeman? Well, for instance, the people and vehicles you observe while waiting in traffic on Kagy near the college are interesting. Just the other day, in the midst of the Bozeman-sized rush hour at 5 pm, there was of all things, an older maroon truck attempting to make a left turn near campus. Cars were backed up for a mile behind it. Brave? Foolish? Oh the myriad of facial expressions for the activity of that maroon truck!

The maroon truck is forever with me, part of my life.  I see it still, since we have memories to enjoy roses in January.  

Oh maroon truck
Covered with muck
During my lifetime
With you I’m stuck


Jerry Schuster is an attorney, recently “semi-retiring” and moving from northeastern Montana to Bozeman.  My wife Theresa and I enjoy the beauty, educational and recreational opportunities of the area.