I never took driver's training classes. When I was 16 we moved from Detroit where I would have taken driver's training and then we moved out to the country where we lived too far for my folks to drive me to classes everyday. However, I was allowed to drive the car to my grandmothers once in a great while. Their house was about a mile away. AND I had to follow my dad while he drove the tractor. We went at least 5 miles an hour.
The tractor didn't have any lights. In the country when it got dark - it was dark. We didn't have streetlights, either. SO, Daddy would get done working Uncle Ronnie's fields around dusk and he needed someone to provide light so he didn't drive off the side of the road. He also needed a ride home.
One night Daddy stopped at our house to let Mom know he needed her to follow him with the car. I begged mom to let me drive. I had done it before. She relented so I grabbed the keys and headed into the garage. There was something parked close to the car, so I had to manipulate the car around it so I wouldn't hit it. I guess I did a little too much manipulating and actually had the car sideways in the garage (a feat not many people could do!). Mom poked her head into the garage to see what was taking me so long. She had this horrified look on her face, said something to the affect that I was on my own and went back into the house - closing the door firmly after her.
It took a bit of skillful driving back and forth, back and forth, but I got the car out of the garage and caught up to my dad on the tractor.
To this day - 40 years later - my mother is still amazed at my ability to get the car sideways in our garage. However, she never talks about the skill that it took to get me out of the garage. Go figure.