PAPAW’S RIDE

BY WALLACE CALEB BATES

I grew up riding in the passenger seat of my grandpa’s Trailblazer, watching him navigate every curve of Eastern Kentucky like he had helped pave the road himself. That old Chevy felt like a chariot. It was rugged, reliable, and always pointed somewhere important, even if the only stop was the IGA.

Now I drive a GMC Acadia, and it feels like a full-circle moment. This vehicle is big. It has room for everything and everyone, but it still fits in a grocery store parking lot without a three-point turn.

I have always wanted a GM SUV, not just for its nameplate but also for the memories it carries. Every time I climb in, I feel like I am following in his tire tracks. The only difference is I have better air conditioning.

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