Twenty Years With Sammy: An Ode to Our 2006 Toyota Tundra

Four kids, a dog, a few golf clubs, and twenty years of family memories.

A few years ago, I was driving down our street toward our house when I noticed a particularly nice-looking first-generation Toyota Tundra parked across the street in our neighbor’s driveway.

I remember thinking to myself, “That’s a good-looking Gen 1 Tundra right there.”

It took me another second or two to realize it was mine.

We occasionally park vehicles in our neighbor’s driveway when they’re out of town, particularly when we’re cleaning out the garage or trying to accommodate the small used-car lot we accumulated during the teenage and college years.

Apparently, moving my truck across the street was enough to fool me.

The truck is a white 2006 Toyota Tundra SR5 Double Cab 4WD (with a front bench seat) that our family calls Sammy. We bought Sammy new in August 2006, with six miles on the odometer. Twenty years and approximately 126,000 miles later, he’s still running beautifully, still looks pretty darn good, and is still one of my favorite vehicles I’ve ever owned.

Even when I don’t recognize it.

I Knew Exactly What We Wanted

We were pretty particular about buying this truck.

In 2006, Toyota was preparing to introduce the larger second-generation Tundra, and I specifically wanted one of the last first-generation models. I remember reading descriptions of the Gen 1 Tundra as a pretty good “7/8-size pickup.” That sounded just about right to me.

I wanted the 4.7-liter V8, Toyota’s 2UZ-FE engine, with its cast-iron block and reputation for being nearly indestructible. Toyota built it to last, not to win spec-sheet contests. I’ve since read about examples of these engines reaching a million miles. Ours has barely 126,000, so I figure Sammy is just getting started.

Just as important, the Double Cab offered seating for six, thanks to a front bench seat. With Sabrina and our four kids, who were 9, 5, 3, and three months old at the time, we needed every one of those seats.

We were also looking for a cabin in Flagstaff, so I envisioned plenty of mountain weekends, camping trips, and hauling whatever a family of six might need. Four-wheel drive, a V8, a bed just over six feet long, room for everybody, and an engine I hoped would last for decades. What more could we want?

The sticker price was $33,227. I negotiated it down to $30,659, then added running boards, window tint, and a spray-in bedliner. We drove away having paid $31,697.

I still have the records. Looking back, I’d say that was money pretty well spent.

Six Seats, Four Kids, and a Lot of Miles to Flagstaff

When we brought Sammy home, our youngest was three months old. Today he’s 20.

That’s a lot of life to share with a pickup truck.

All four kids grew up riding in Sammy. We made countless trips to Flagstaff, often with the bed loaded with camping gear, supplies, or our quad. We drove to California, Las Vegas, and plenty of places in between.

For years, one of our family traditions was spending the Fourth of July in Flagstaff and heading downtown for the annual parade.

I have a picture from July 4, 2016, of all six of us piled into Sammy on our way to the festivities.

Looking at that picture now, I realize the truck was already ten years old, and our youngest was ten, too. We’d bought Sammy when he was just three months old, so he’d literally grown up riding in that truck.

I don’t remember anything particularly remarkable about that year’s parade. But I’m really glad Sabrina took that picture.

There were also countless trips to basketball games, practices, school activities, camping adventures, and all the ordinary errands that make up family life.

All four of our kids have spent time driving Sammy. Shortly after Sydney, our oldest, got her learner’s permit, I had back surgery. Christmas was just a few days away, I hadn’t finished shopping for Sabrina, and the pain medication meant I couldn’t drive. Fortunately, I had a chauffeur.

And what better vehicle for a recovering back surgery patient than a pickup truck? No bending over to get in or out, and a comfortable bench seat up front. The only catch was that my chauffeur was barely old enough to have a learner’s permit, and our destination was Target, just days before Christmas. So off we went, with Sydney navigating a nearly 20-foot-long pickup through the Christmas shopping madness.

She did great, and it’s still one of my favorite memories in that truck. At least the parts I can remember.

The three younger kids all drove Sammy to high school. And what better vehicle for your teenagers than a big, solid, four-wheel-drive Toyota pickup? He became their transportation to practices, games, dates, and weekend adventures with friends.

I’m sure there are stories from some of those outings that I still haven’t heard. I’m OK not knowing all of those stories.

Sammy also became a working truck. We’ve hauled lumber, furniture, camping equipment, tools, and all kinds of materials for projects around the house and at the cabin. The kids drove him to service projects and for cleaning parks.

One of our favorite features is the rear window. Unlike most pickups, the entire back window rolls all the way down. As usual, Toyota got that absolutely right.

Our dog Annie certainly appreciated it. There were trips to Dairy Queen for pup cups, with her head sticking out the back window enjoying the ride.

That window has also come in handy for sliding various building materials into the cab when they wouldn’t fit entirely in the bed. And, on occasion, it provided a convenient passage between the cab and the bed.

The Night We Got Egged

One of Sammy’s more memorable adventures happened when our son Ben was learning to drive.

He was behind the wheel one night with his learner’s permit when we drove beneath an overpass and suddenly heard something hit the truck. We had absolutely no idea what it was.

When you’re teaching a teenager to drive, unexpected noises are not ideal. A windshield suddenly covered in an unknown non-see-through liquid is even less ideal. I tried to keep things calm, and we made it home without incident.

The next morning, we discovered what had happened. Some ne’er-do-well rascals had apparently decided it would be entertaining to throw eggs at passing vehicles from the overpass. Sammy had been one of their targets.

We found the evidence, including eggshells, and eventually realized the eggs had actually damaged the paint on the hood. To this day, you can still see the outlines of some of those impacts.

We probably could have had the hood repainted years ago instead of using the touch-up paint, but somehow those marks have become part of the truck’s history. Every once in a while, I notice them and remember that night with Ben behind the wheel.

A Truck You Can Actually Work On

One of the things I’ve always appreciated about Sammy is that it’s relatively straightforward to maintain.

Over the years, the kids and I have changed the oil, replaced spark plugs, installed a backup camera, and worked on various little projects together. Sydney, our oldest, can join the millions of kids who learned early in life not to take things too personally because they held the light for their dad. She was actually very good at it. 

I have pictures of Ben learning to change a tire, Zach helping me change the oil, and Megan using a drill and headlight restoration kit to bring Sammy’s aging headlights back to life.

We also worked together replacing window trim and running wiring for the backup camera. Those times working on that truck are some of my favorite memories. There’s something satisfying about teaching your kids how to maintain a vehicle, showing them how things work, and letting them get their hands dirty.

Sometimes the projects went smoothly. Sometimes they took longer than expected. I think the kids may have learned some colorful vocabulary along the way that wasn’t necessarily included in the original lesson plan. Colorful but not too foul.

But we got things done.

As for major mechanical problems, there really haven’t been any.

In June 2023, at about 108,000 miles, I had the timing belt, water pump, radiator, and alternator replaced. The radiator had developed a leak after someone drove into the front of Sammy while Ben was driving. No injuries, of course. Sammy takes care of the family. But the radiator leak was not caught by the body shop that tidied up the rest of the front end. It made sense to address the other items at the same time.

Other than ordinary maintenance and wear items, Sammy has required remarkably little attention.

The original engine and transmission have never given us any trouble.

That’s nearly twenty years of driving, family vacations, mountain trips, hauling equipment, and teenage drivers. Sammy has given us twenty years of almost no drama. That’s my kind of vehicle.

Additionally, who doesn’t love the sound of a V8 firing up and droning on beneath you as you go down the road? With plenty of power for whatever we have needed, and just enough pickup to justify the name, it’s actually both fun and boring to drive, both in the best ways possible.  I also like sitting up high, having a real truck bed, and knowing I can throw something in the back without worrying too much about it.

Sammy isn’t especially fancy, but boy is he reliable. 

A Little Notebook in the Glovebox

My dad always kept a little notebook in the glovebox of his cars. Every time he filled up, changed the oil, or had something repaired, he’d write it down.

I guess I inherited that habit from him, although I’ve updated the technology a bit. I’ve kept a spreadsheet on Sammy since the day we drove him home. It lives on my phone now, and I’ve recorded everything from gas mileage and oil changes to tires, repairs, and the occasional note about where we were going or what was happening that day.

Looking back through it recently, I realized it’s become something of a family journal. There are entries about trips to Flagstaff, hauling furniture to the cabin in freezing weather, camping trips, and afternoons changing the oil with the kids.

There’s an entry from June 2014 about replacing two blown tires after returning from a Scout campout at the cabin.

I don’t remember every detail of that adventure, but I’m fairly certain it was more exciting than I would have preferred.

There’s another entry from July 2019, when we dropped Ben off at the airport to begin two years of service, which he started by learning Spanish in Mexico City. 

I wrote about how hard it was to see him leave and how proud I was of him. Then I noted that Zach and I played golf, ate In-N-Out, and that he spilled his chocolate shake. I forgot about that.

Five years later, there’s another entry about dropping Zach at the airport for his own two-year service. I doubt I gave much thought to those notes when I typed them. I was just keeping track of things, the way my dad always did.

But twenty years later, I’m pretty glad I made those notes.

We still have the truck, and I have a record of some of the life that happened along the way.

I suspect Dad would approve of the recordkeeping, although he might wonder why I need a phone to accomplish something he managed perfectly well with a pencil and a little notebook.

He wouldn’t be wrong.

A Few Thousand Miles for a Few Rounds of Golf

Sammy has also played a role in my quest to play golf in all 50 states.

In August 2019, shortly after Ben left for two years, I took Sammy on a little golf “walkabout” road trip through Wyoming, South Dakota, and Nebraska, covering approximately 2,819 miles.

That trip included rounds at Three Crowns in Casper, Wyoming, The Golf Club at Red Rock in Rapid City, South Dakota, and Wild Horse in Nebraska.

And because I apparently couldn’t help myself, I recorded the scores in my truck’s maintenance spreadsheet.

An 83 at Three Crowns, an 85 at Red Rock, and an 82 at Wild Horse, where I managed three birdies on the front nine.

Apparently, I considered that information just as important as how many gallons of gas I’d purchased in Bridgeport, Nebraska.

Are there more luxurious or economical vehicles for a long road trip? Probably yes, and definitely yes, but I never gave it much thought. Sammy was comfortable, dependable, and had plenty of room for my clubs and everything else I needed.

And there’s something about driving across the wide-open spaces of the American West in a pickup truck that just feels right. Those rounds were part of a much larger golf adventure that I’ve been writing about here at The Long Game. But when I think back on that particular trip, the truck is part of the memory, too.

Apparently, Other People Like a Gen 1 Tundra Too

Every so often, someone will stop us and ask whether we’d consider selling Sammy. On more than one occasion, we’ve found notes left on the truck from people interested in buying it.

I understand the attraction. First-generation Tundras have developed a pretty loyal following, and finding a clean, original example is getting harder. But I’ve never seriously considered selling it.

We have a newer Tundra, and it’s a great truck in its own right. But there’s something about the size, simplicity, appearance, and feel of the original that I still prefer in many ways. Maybe that’s nostalgia talking. Or maybe Toyota really did get an awful lot right with that first generation.

Probably both.

I know they say everything is for sale for the right price. That price is very high for Sammy, because I can’t put a price on all the awesome memories we created thanks to Sammy. Also, I can think of at least 4 people who would not appreciate me selling off a member of the family at any price.

Still Going Strong

Twenty years later, Sammy still starts right up, drives beautifully, and sounds just like a good V8 ought to sound. The back window still rolls all the way down, and I still enjoy driving him as much as I did when we brought him home in 2006.

I don’t know how many more years we’ll have Sammy, but with only 126,000 miles on that 4.7-liter V8, I’m hoping there are quite a few left. At this rate, I’ll probably wear out before he does.

And apparently, I still think he’s a pretty good-looking truck.

Even when he’s parked across the street and I don’t realize he’s mine.