Arts and Grass
My first "driving experience" was in something like this - Though it consisted of me shifting and saying vroom, vroom.
Growing up in outport Newfoundland in the 70's, garbage disposal wasn't a thing, let alone car disposal. There, and elsewhere, many people just abandoned old cars and trucks in a field, or behind their house.
Near where I lived, there was a defunct brickyard, and not only was it fun to explore it, but many people had left their old relics there. These became a great place to play as a kid, if they weren't filled with hornet's nests.
Sitting on the old leather seats, the glass tinted green with age, playing with the what seemed immensely long shifter. All part of growing up.