As far as rites of passage go, passing your driver’s test is right up there with, uh, another important milestone that probably happened within a few years of that time, and possibly also involved a car. Everyone remembers their first time, which was hopefully your only time (reminder: I am talking about taking your driver’s test, not the other thing). Like a lot of you, I aced the test on the first try. Or tests, I should say, since there’s that written exam too, but what I’m Autopian Asking ya’ll about today is the far more intimidating road test.
I don’t recall what model car I took the road test in, but I do remember the guy scoring in the passenger’s seat (not a sex reference) had a strong aura of I don’t want to be here, which did not bode well. I was already on high alert for any potential test-ruining goofs, but I notched it up a little more as it seemed this guy would relish failing me.
He didn’t waste any time, either. Before I had even swung the door shut, he was encouraging me to “just go ahead and pull away.” Not before I check my mirrors and we both put our seatbelts on, thank you very much! The hand-signaling portion of the test went on way too long, and he chose the tightest possible situations for the parallel parking and three-point turn tests. There was no power steering to help me out, but I met the challenge. When he opened his door to check the distance to the curb after I parallel parked, I could sense his disappointment when he saw the gap was just right. Now give me my license.Â
I asked the gang if they had any road-test stories to share. Mark had some hard luck, but persevered:
Took me three tries. We had one tester in my hometown who failed EVERYONE, and I got her twice in a row, and she failed me for piddly shit like parking too far from the curb. Third time, I got the “nice” one, and aced it.
Brian got his license with nary a point to spare:
It was my 16th birthday, and my mother drove me to the testing site in Goshen, New York. I took the test in her white third-gen Honda CR-V, which I knew wasn’t a very good car even then.
The test went off without a hitch, or at least I thought so. I stopped at every light, signaled correctly, and parallel-parked flawlessly. Little did I know I’d made a wide right turn somewhere along the test route, for which I was docked five points. Thankfully, I still passed. I’m sure I’d do far worse today, for some reason.
Your turn!
How Did Your Driving Test Go?
Top graphic image: DepositPhotos.com
Took my first one in Ohio. Required to parallel-park. Passed.
Took a bus driver test in CA. Passed. Part of the test drives up Canoga Ave then you are asked to turn toward the RR tracks. If you don’t stop before the tracks, auto-fail.
Took my drivers test when I was 16. Growing up on a farm and having driven tractors when I was 9 and cars/trucks at 12, I wasn’t worried about the driving part. Only vehicle we had that would pass the rudimentary safety check was a 61 Rambler Classic with the aluminum six (50 miles to the quart of used oil). It had a very worn front trunnion joint that would “pop out” if you hit a pothole very fast. I used some number 9 wire wrapped around the trunnion joint in hopes that it wouldn’t pop out and rubbed a lot of mud around it to hide the wire. Car passed the safety test, test went well except for the three point turn which I failed because I did a heel and toe technique to keep the car from rolling in the ditch when shifting into reverse and back into first (Emergency brake would work a little but didn’t use it because the cable was mostly seized and the brakes wouldn’t release without getting under the car with a bar (carried in the trunk).). Towards the end of the drive, the deputy (county deputies performed the tests) asked me if I could shift because up til then I hadn’t taken it out of first because we were in a small town with no speed limit signs. Made me go out on the highway and go 55. Back at the station deputy told my Dad that I passed and would be ok if I drove as cautiously as I did in the test. Dad explained that I would or he would “take all my points”. About a month later, I was playing snow tag with my other friends and the town constable saw us. I got up at 5:30 to milk cows and the Rambler was up on concrete blocks and the wheels and tires were gone. I rushed to tell Dad and he explained the constable called him the evening before so the tires were locked up. Provided a list of farm tasks that when performed and 2 weeks had passed, I would “get my points back”!
I couldn’t wait to take mine as soon as I could, passed it the first time in our ’85 Caprice wagon (it was brown too). Only had 1 point docked for pulling through the parking stall into the spot in front when we were finished. I think I felt I was a bit crooked or something.
3 out of 4 kids have theirs now too. One passed first time with just 1 point off, one passed first time with like 14 points, almost all on an overly picky Y turn section. The oldest passed hers on the second try, failed the first because she kept going over the speed limit by 5-10 mph…..
Passed the first time (1989, north Jersey, mix of dedicated course & local roads), no problems. BUT almost the first thing I had to do was turn out of the course onto the road, and I rolled the stop sign. Not egregiously, but the tester calmly said “come to a full and complete stop at stop signs”, and I almost shit myself.
Took my driving test in a small town in rural Virginia. Literally all I had to do was drive around the 25mph residential block, took about 5 minutes and I passed. No parallel parking, nothing tricky. Of course I had taken the behind-the-wheel course in high school, so plenty of driving hours there.
On the written test I only missed one question, it was whether you had to stop if a school bus was letting students off on the other side of a 4-lane divided highway. I answered that you did have to stop, which was incorrect because the median meant you didn’t need to stop.
An absolute doddle. Almost 40 years ago now in Portland, ME. I was late to getting it, 17 and my senior year – most of my friends were ahead of my by at least a year, some two (I was the youngest kid in my class by quite a bit). I actually had my permit for almost two years before I got around to taking the test, and I drove absolutely everywhere anytime we went somewhere from the day I passed my permit test. I took it in the Old Man’s diesel Suburban, the super friendly examiner nattered on about baseball the whole time (something which I then or now know absolutely not a thing about) and it was over in 20 minutes. I got out of doing a “real” parallel park because there were no spaces on the test route big enough for the Blunderbus, so he just had me fake it in the BMV parking lot. Passed on the first try.
For my permit I took a private class though Ace Driving School in Portland. Could have taken it through the school for free, but that took all semester vs. three weeks to do it privately. The first car I ever drove legally on a public road was a brand-new just released Chrysler minivan. That was, however, by no means the first car I ever drove, my uncle having taught me when I was 12 or so on his Series Land Rover, and I’d been driving around the forests of Maine with him in them every summer since.
I had one friend who took five tries, including failing once because a blinker went out literally on the way to take the test on his Mom’s Volvo (they would do a mini-inspection of the car), and again because he actually hit another car on the test.
I took driver’s ed in HS so I could get my license early, at the time in MA it was 16 1/2 with driver’s ed, 18 without it.
I got my permit on my 16th b-day, and I drove home from the registry with my dad riding shotgun. After that, I drove EVERYWHERE. Any possible excuse to go out, I would drive. Sometimes we’d even just go drive, with no particular reason to be out other than driving.
I had been waiting my whole life to get behind the wheel; I took every opportunity to practice and was so excited to take my road test. I had nailed the permit test, then at the road test I nailed the written exam. Once I passed that it was road test time! I had done well in my driving school car; I was confident reversing and even parallel parking. I took the test in the driving school’s car, a ’95 or so Corolla. It was pretty new at the time, it had replaced the boxy, older Corollas we had first started driving on.
I had a Massachusetts state trooper administering the road test, and I had to reverse, 3-point turn, parallel park. Nailed them all. I was feeling very good about all this, thinking “NAILED IT” in my brain. We get back to the DMV and we park, with me feeling very satisfied with myself. That’s when she dropped the hammer. She was failing me, not because I technically did anything wrong, but because I was too confident. She told me I was a competent driver; however, I drove as if I’d been doing it 20 years. I was shattered. The two other students who went up with me failed as well.
I ended up retaking it a month later, got a very friendly statie who passed me no problem.
My mom was convinced I failed the first time because the morning I took the test, there was a major car accident with fatalities close by in what was likely in her patrol area. I don’t know if that’s the case, but if so I guess I get it, though I was so upset at the time.
I was recently telling this story to my GF, and it occurred to me this is likely one of the last time’s I ever felt truly confident about my ability to do something.
My experience just dealt with the very upset and angry DMV employee administering the test. This was back in 04. In PA you had to have your permit for 6 months with so many hours driving. Well, all of that hit right on Good Friday. I had off school and absolutely was not going to miss my shot with a license and freedom for a long weekend.
I decided to take the test in my dad’s (formerly Grandfather’s) 1998 Accord instead of my 96 S-10 Blazer. Ya know, the ones before they got huge. I figured it was great for parallel parking and was just a nice little car. I’m also tall. Like 6’6 tall, so I looked a little cramped in it and when the DMV employee came out, he was also on the taller side. Now we have two tall guys in a tiny car.
The whole experience starts off well, but the guy from the DMV is in a FOUL mood. As soon as he got in the car, he started with “Must be nice to have a holiday off when I’m working. You kids should be in school.” Ok, weird flex, but I’d take the day off of school for this anyway. As we go through the course, I start smelling the overpowering aroma of cigarettes wafting from the passenger seat. The smell was super strong. The guy then grumbles about how stuffy the car is, so I reach over and turn up the airflow; “Keep your hands on the wheel!” Mistake 1.
At this point I’m getting more nervous. I’m doing the neighborhood driving section when he tries to lower the window. Unbeknownst to me, the window lock was on. He got very flustered and starts going off about wanting to roll the window down and being upset that it won’t lower. I got to the stop sign, and fumble around to unlock the window and I got a fun “Do you even know this car?” and “Why are you stopped?” Then gets his wish and rolls his window down.
At this point, I just wanted to get back to the DMV. We get back and the guy is grumbling the whole way back. I was oddly fully expecting to fail, but the dude handed me my note saying I passed.
I booked it to get my license and GTFO. When I left, he was giving the person after me the same “why am I working when you kids are off” stuff.
Passed my written permit test on the first try. My parents signed me up for a driver’s ed course as it lowered their insurance premiums for me. It was like a month of driver’s ed before my 16th birthday, then I passed the driver’s test on my first try a couple days after my birthday.
Pretty boring story. Wasn’t in my first accident until I bought my first car at 21 and got T-boned (wasn’t at fault).
Registering to vote? That must be it. Yes, it was an important rite of passage!
Late December 1972, Northern New Jersey. Very cold day and I was driving my ratty $250 (cheap even then) MGA. No windows/side curtains. Examiner wanted out of the car so much I did not have to do any of the parking tests. It took under 5 minutes and I received the highest score possible. I don’t think he wanted to fail me as he might draw the short straw in case I had to return for a retest.
I didn’t take a driving test, at least not at the DMV. In Florida in the ’80s if your high school offered Driver’s Ed that could substitute for the driving exam, both written and practical. All that was needed was a B average or better and you would be given a certificate to present at the DMV once you reached 16.
Not sure if that was a factor in my totaling my first car 12 weeks after getting my license.
My driving instructor ended up being friends with the guy doing the test, and the guy doing the test was turned around talking to my driving instructor the whole time. He’d just occasionally turn forward to tell me to take a turn, and then not even watch what I was doing. I passed.
wow, this post blew up! I doubt that many will scroll through all the responses to read this far, but here goes. I think that I posted something similar about the PA test back in the 80’s previously, if so I apologize in advance. What we had to do was go to a state police barracks (mine was off Airport road in Bethlehem) and do the “written” exam – which was really just 20 or so questions posted in a strange analog machine with some sort of video capacity (it may have just been slides on a personal viewer with response buttons – it’s been a while). After passing that, you put your name in for the driving portion. We didn’t have an on-road test, there was a course set up in the back of the barracks. This course had a couple stop signs, turns, and a place for parallel parking. It also had a stop sign in the middle of a gentle slope, designed to test whether those driving a manual would drift backward too far before taking off. The course wasn’t that indimidating, but the guy in the car was. He wasn’t a driving test guy, he was a full-on PA state trooper – and he was never happy to have the duty. I didn’t think the test was hard – passed on the first try – however we also weren’t exposed to actual road traffic either.
PA doesn’t do it like this anymore, tests are done at DOT driver’s centers without the involvement of the state police. I’m kinda glad I did it old school – if you could make it through with a trooper in the front seat, you probably had enough skill to make it on the road.
Oh yeah, if you want to see the course I tested on, it’s still there but barely visible on google maps. Look for LVI airport, the barracks are at the lower right. The parking lot in the back is where the test happened. There’s an inexplicable “road” that goes behind the lot – that’s where the stop sign incline was.
I had my driving test around 6 months after my 16th birthday. Passed on the first try and only got dinged for something really minor.
And my test was done in my brother’s 1987 Toyota Tercel coupe.
I don’t remember the first test, but I know I took the class at the high school over the summer when I was 15. I turned 16 at the start of my sophomore year, so I was the guy driving all of his friends around for a while there before everyone else caught up in age. I do have two memorable driving learning/testing stories though.
First, my grandma was watching my brother and I while my parents were out of the country for a couple of weeks, and she took me to the fairgrounds to practice (it had a large empty gravel lot where I wasn’t going to run into anything). I was learning on a manual (an 86 Plymouth Voyager), and she expressed two things to me that I don’t think I heard anywhere else. One was that you have to be able to back up with your side mirror (the Voyager only had a driver’s side mirror from the factory) since you may have a full load blocking your rear-view mirror* or be pulling a trailer. Safe? Maybe not, but a fair point and I like to think I’m better at using my mirrors for having had the lessons.
The other lesson she taught me was that you need to hit both the clutch and brakes during an emergency stop. This wasn’t the only place I’d heard this of course, but her methods for practicing were… interesting. We’d be driving in the parking lot, and she would suddenly scream ‘oh my god there’s a kid in the road’ and I’d have to practice emergency stops to avoid a phantom child. No ABS of course. That was an anxiety-inducing experience!
The second story is about the last time I had to renew my license in Kansas before I moved out of the state for work. All I had to do was take a 20-question multiple choice test. Open book. They provided the book. The book literally had no content in it other than the answers to the questions, and someone had written the answers in pencil on the back of the book. Unsurprisingly, I got all of them correct! The woman at the desk was impressed and when I incredulously asked her if people fail the test she said, “All the time!” As we were wrapping things up, I watched an elderly man in the next lane fail the vision test. He then got in a giant 70s land yacht and drove away, presumably to his optometrist. The worst part is that I think people drove better in Kansas than they do here in Tennessee 😀
*or if you have a 1980s American car, your rear-view mirror has fallen off the windshield.
Buckle up, I have quite the tale.
It was 1998. I took my test in my uncle’s fairly new 1996 Jeep Grand Cherokee Laredo. All the cars I had access to in my immediate family were column shift cars (mom’s 1986 Olds 98, dad’s 1992 F150, and my 1964 Buick Skylark) and the Mass RMV required a car with a handbrake and floor shifter for the test. My uncle’s newly acquired Grand Cherokee was the only one we knew of even in the extended family that had a handbrake and floor shifter.
I had zero seat time in the GC, but plenty of time behind the wheel of the three cars in my house, so I was confident things would be fine. My dad and I got into the car with a hulking 6’6″ off-duty State Trooper sitting in the passenger seat, who was administering the test. I was nervous as hell.
I start the car, and the floor shifter would not shift. Again, this was the first car I had driven with a floor shifter. The trooper looks at me and says, “have you ever driven before?” and I responded by explaining that I had only driven cars with column shifts, and mostly my 1964 Buick. He then says “What do you do when you stop?”
“Hit the brake”, I responded.
He gestured with an open hand, suggesting without words that I should probably depress the brake pedal. After what seemed to be an eternity, my brain put this together and I did that, feeling something click in the shifter. I could move the shifter now!
So, we exited the space, exited the lot, went up the street, did a 3-point turn on a side street (I hit a tree branch with the back window during that turn) and backtracked to the RMV. I parked, and asked where to go to reschedule the test, thinking that the shifter fiasco and hitting a tree branch blew any chance to pass. He said, “What do you mean? You were nervous, it’s all good, you passed! I’ve seen much worse than that!” He probably didn’t want to see me again and took pity on me. BUT I PASSED!!!
On the way home, my dad drove, as I was still a nervous wreck. We stopped at an auto parts store off the highway to get a few things for my Buick to christen it (cup holder, air fresheners, and the requisite fuzzy dice). On the way back onto the highway, a drunk driver in a GMT400 4×4 with a bed full of recently-full empties tried passing the person behind us in the breakdown lane illegally and went right through the driver’s side rear corner of my uncle’s Jeep. We went up on two wheels and somehow my dad corrected and pulled over. Guy was going so fast that he drove right through us, past us, and then perpendicular to us, exiting the road at about 80mph into a tree. If I was driving, I probably wouldn’t be here typing this years later. Thanks, dad.
State troopers came, witnesses stopped to attest at the drunk driver’s erratic behavior, and we did a roadside interview with a trooper. While that was going on, a 14 passenger van full of special needs kids stopped dead as the driver was gawking the accident scene. And into that van went a family in a conversion fan, hitting so hard that the three of us had to duck the glass from the big van as it shattered and flung our way!
The trooper told us that if the Jeep could drive, now would be a good time to leave, as the highway now needed to be shut down to handle all the casualties. Luckily, the Jeep could still drive OK despite missing much of the hatch and rear driver’s quarter, so off we went.
My mom, to her credit, saw how traumatized I was at the rollercoaster of recent events, told me right then and there to get in my Buick and drive somewhere. She knew that if I didn’t nip it in the bud right then, I’d be afraid to get behind the wheel. And she was right. Getting into my car, I felt like I earned that license through a true trial by fire. Freedom finally, but at what cost! And I made sure not to back into things during 3-point turns ever again.
I turned 16 in 1971 and immediately scheduled my test. I passed first time muscling our 1968 Rebel with power nothing through the course. I took 3 point turn literally and managed to pull it off. I also got contact lenses that day. Terrific day!
Ugh. My first attempt was pure BS. I was doing fine, until the instructor told me to parallel park behind a car where the person was actively getting out of their car, and a third of my car would have ended up in a crosswalk. I thought it was a trick of some sort and said, “I can’t park here”. We continued the test and I assumed that I would get a shot to do a real parallel park in a spot that was both legal, and where I wouldn’t have to murder someone to do it.
Well I was wrong, the test ended, I thought I had passed, but instead I received a slip that claimed I “refused to do the parallel park” and failed. Douchebag left immediately for the next appointment before I could even defend myself. I will hate him forever. Mostly because two weeks later would be prom, and failing the test meant I had to go into desperation mode to find another method to get to and from prom without having to resort to the ultimate indignity: parent.
I will add, this test was done in a 2001 Hyundai Elantra GT. If you remember Rocko’s Modern Life, I got “the fat guy” who unfortunately was touching me the entire test just by you know, being in the seat next to me. It was a seriously uncomfortable situation, and I thought 17 year old me did a pretty great job handling it. Guy failing me after being partially on top of me the entire test just amplified the injustice.
Second attempt as soon as I could get another appointment, aced it. That instructor was completely reasonable human being who had me parallel park in a totally normal fucking spot.
First try and first ace of the proctor’s day – all done in an extended full-size van. I would fully support a “super-license” for advanced drivers.
Took the test in August, after I turned 16 in June. Because the county fair was that week, got to go to the outskirts of town to a trailer park instead of the fairgrounds for most of the driving. My only trip up was the parallel parking, which i failed completely. I blame the manual steering in the Nova.
Oh, and between my birthday and driver’s test, i drove said Nova (and my aunt and uncle’s cars) for the majority of a two week family trip from MN to FL. Probably did 3,000+ miles in total.
Thankfully, where I grew up we had Drivers Ed which allowed you to present a card showing completion and avoid the driving test at the DMV. Same with motorcycles licenses and the Riders Safety Course. Both were more important than a seatbelt or helmet with regard to life safety and made it much simpler to schedule your time to obtain your license.
I took the New York State driver’s test in Dad’s Dodge Mirada, the last gasp of the personal luxury
coupebarge. Seventeen and a half feet long with no idea where any of the corners were.It went off without a hitch, though, because I’d been driving and parking cars in Dad’s repo lot for three years. I parallel parked that whale a little faster than the instructor would have liked, though—I caught him reaching out for the dashboard instinctively as I cut the wheel back to the left, expecting I’d clip the car in front of us. He took a point or two off for my enthusiasm and mumbled something about taking my time.
I would have suggested Curb Feelers for those. My pops had a 77 Monte Carlo with those massive personal luxury front and rear fender overhangs.
Took my test in 1986 in a Datsun pickup with manual transmission and steering. Parallel parking was fun. I passed on the first try though.
My son did his last week. They are doing some renovations so the course is a bit wonky. He entered the course the wrong way. Instant failure. He passed the next day though.
It went fine, mostly.
I checked the mirrors, did the parallel parking, turn signals, all that stuff. No problem.
The main issue was that I was testing in a 1971 Opel GT. I was a wiry athlete at 145 pounds soaking wet and getting in and out of the car was nothing to me. I could leap into and out of it at a dead run, never mind that the car was exactly 48″ tall at the roof.
But the tester was 6’5″ and weighed somewhere around 350-400 pounds. He was VERY uncomfortable and I had to look away while he wrestled himself back out of the car. He literally put his hands on the ground and pulled.