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How It All Started

In 1982, my first ride reflected a shameless need for transportation. It was a cranky 30-year old truck whose value had shrunk to a level my minimum wage could bear.

She languished in the Tennessee woods until I recognized potential beneath the rust. Dad supervised the rescue. We removed a squirrel's nest from the headliner, pumped up the tires, poured gas in the carburetor, and cranked her up.

On the road, she rattled, leaked, and groaned. Dry-rotted recapped tires threw chunks of rubber. She loped along like a drunken dinosaur.

Despite the inconveniences, I learned to love "Shelley." I even boasted of driving her to Alaska that summer. Dad wrenched her into a dependable driver and he wrenched me into a clumsy mechanic. With a $12 tool set and a wellspring of confidence, I set out--not for Alaska--but for college instead. There she served dependably and earned my respect for her bare bones simplicity.

I grew older, yet was unable to shake the idea of a 40-mph drive up the Alaska Highway. The thought of a bone-jarring odyssey in the musty truck tantalized me.

What finally convinced me was Dad's cancer diagnosis. At 64 he had rarely complained of any ailments, save an occasional cold. Once a pillar of physical strength, Dad faced an 18-month struggle. He died in 1998.

Dad had given so much of his time and his love to make Shelley a dependable driver at a time when I couldn't afford a better machine. His memory deserved the honor of my taking the truck on the adventure. Thus, "10,000 Miles for a Cancer Cure" was born.

The journey began June 11, 2000. Read more in Terry Kohl's article "A Dream and an Old Truck."  Or, check excerpts from the book Travels with Shelley: An Old Truck Journey to Arctic Alaska.

--Scott Sensing