Oct 11, 2025

COLUMN: The Old Pickup

Posted Oct 11, 2025 3:00 PM

By John Weare, Keep Alliance Beautiful

Keep Alliance Beautiful recently retired its 2001 F250, seen through the cage on the back of the organization's 2011 pickup.
Keep Alliance Beautiful recently retired its 2001 F250, seen through the cage on the back of the organization's 2011 pickup.

ALLIANCE, Neb. - Parked between plastic bladders pulled from IBC totes and curbside bags waiting to be sorted I put “the old pickup” out to pasture. No longer fit to drive, the F250 diesel had served Keep Alliance Beautiful well for years. Perhaps someone needs a project or, at the least, spare parts to reuse a conveyance that carried many tons of recyclables during its life.

As a not-for-profit organization we squeeze every last mile out of our vehicles. Grants pay for the best we can find for the funding available though there is no way you’ll be seeing a brand new $55K 2026 pickup with the KAB logo driving through your neighborhood. What fits the bill is a workhorse. That means a 4x4, three-quarter ton pickup with a long box (eight-foot long bed) and crew cab (preferred) then, ideally, a lift gate and cage to corral cardboard.

When I started at KAB neither pickup fit the entire wishlist though both were stout Ford 250’s. The “old pickup” was a 2001 model I had seen many times before in its former stint as a mover of pop machines, etcetera, for Pepsi Cola. It was the primary cardboard collector with a cage to keep loose cargo in place as well as a lift gate to assist in changing out heavy totes behind businesses.

There was a ball on the bumper for trailers and despite upwards of 200,000 on the odometer nothing wrong with the radio. However the absence of four wheel drive made for interesting trips in the mud and snow. The “new” 2011 pickup was also an F250 though it drank gasoline. This Ford did not have a lift or cage yet did have four wheel drive. Both were crew cabs – a great feature to bring bags and contain recyclables more likely to fly out the back.

The newer pickup, as time went on, almost exclusively had the assignment of moving trailers. Initially, I avoided the invitation to drive. The newbie always rides shotgun, that’s how it works. Cole navigated the west end or the east end, as our then-boss G.O. would say. We packed the old truck and drove windows down, radio tuned to KCOW. It became my favorite. Months went by, routes memorized. Now my turn came to drive – a challenge having rarely been behind the wheel of something that size. A pint-size Toyota Tacoma was the one and only pickup in my history. It became obvious that the turning radius of these F250s would take some getting used to.

A few of the dents on both the white KAB pickups are mine. It pays to take your time, double-check blind spots and ask for assistance from the copilot. Beyond simply steering while applying the gas and brake there is cargo consideration. The old pickup inherently held more though that meant more to snatch from the streets and highways when not securing the load properly. A tarp and pallets came in handy when visiting Pat’s Creative and Hemingford while not overfilling the cage was the biggest factor around town.

My Achilles heel when leaving town would be to pack the cage to the gills and underestimate the power of the wind to pluck out a bag or box. Lonnie and I saw how this worked on one occasion north of Berea. Fortunately a Good Samaritan stopped to help pick up paper and plastic. Earlier this year the old pickup began to leak from its coolant reservoir, a symptom of a major problem. To fix the issue would have far exceeded the repair budget for a nearly 25-year-old vehicle. So, since it still ran, we continued to drive the pickup for the next few months. Then, with about 350,000 miles, this Ford seemed ready to check out. I reached to adjust the rearview one morning and the mirror came off in my hand. Little things like that. Last month, in anticipation, we had RPR move the liftgate and cage to the other pickup. Then, on October 3, a leaf spring broke and blew the back driver’s side tire. I called my dad to help.

He made it possible to put on the spare and limp back to the recycling center with a blown tire in the bed and cardboard held in with a temporary plywood tailgate. Whatever we find as a replacement will do the same job and may even have a hint of “new car scent”. Still, I will miss that turn of the century diesel.