I was driving, by age 14. Dad would roll up his jacket to boost me *higher* on the seat so I could see over the dash.
Any farm kid drives much sooner.
He won the bid and put us boys to work mending fence, hauling rock and grazing cattle. Sometimes Mom would stay with us for the week. Sometimes we were on our own until the next weekend. An old hand pump supplied the water in the house. There was an outhouse up a hill outside to do our other business and a clear creek which ran through the property for skinny dipping when the day's work was done.
One evening, we decided we wanted to go into town about four miles away to get some ice cream. My brother drove the tractor. I stood on the tongue and in we went. Of course the neighbors told pa and we caught hell when he drove down the following weekend. Since we had gotten most of the assigned work done, I don't recall that our punishment was very severe. But we didn't do it again.
Imagine what would happen to parents today if they left two preteen boys on a run-down farm 100 miles away for the week.