Back in the Old Days

Filed Under (Trucking - Driver Shortage)

I really miss the old days of trucking. The two lane deserted scenic highways, before the congestion of interstates. I would wind through the endless small towns and incredible scenery, stop at a small truck stop, long before the days of franchises that made every truck stop look and the food taste exactly the same. I miss the local flavor of food and people. The truck stops where I knew everyone including the owner and everyone knew me.

Back then I would stop to help someone along the road, because I was as dependable as the cell phones and satellites they now have. If it was another truck I probably knew him. We would work on a problem together to get him going again. I wouldn’t have to worry about being left stranded myself because I knew he would help me without asking.

Back when the CB was one of our most modern tools and it was used as such. Everyone was professional, helped each other and respected each other on the radio as they did in person.

My first impression of truckers was when I was a kid and we were on the family vacation. I don’t even remember where we were going or coming from. I do remember being in a major traffic jam and the trucker next to us tossing lollipops from his truck to us kids in the back seat. We missed some, we caught some. I think it helped everyone pass the time. Back when we didn’t have to worry about candy being laced with anything but too much sugar.

Back then I had the reputation of a professional. People wrote songs about me, made movies about me and they were in awe when I told someone proudly I was a trucker. There were the outlaws among us that got all the press, just like the outlaws of the old west. But mostly we were respected. We knew every little crook and cranny of this country like the wrinkles on our wind beaten and calloused hands. We were depended upon not only to help a lost tourist but to lend someone a hand with only a thank you as a reward.

Too bad I’ve only been driving for 5 years. Because that’s the trucking I signed up for. Not today’s traffic and abuse. Truck stops today are like McDonald’s, they all look the same, inside and out with no individual character. I’ve seen all 48 and most of Canada more than a few times. That sounds impressive, but from the interstate you don’t see much. I can’t even listen to the CB while I drive because of the abusive, vulgar, trash talking. Some drivers can’t even be bothered to wave, thanks to a cell phone in one hand and trying to steer, shift and drink coffee with the other. And thanks to my coworkers fine example, I can’t even pull into a mall parking lot without being harassed by some junior security nazi.

I’m sure my fantasy of how it used to be and how it really was is probably two completely different realities. So be it. This is still the trucking I signed up for. I’m proud of what I do. I tell everyone that the worst day trucking is better than the best day I ever had in any office.

Originally posted 2008-05-28 20:35:27.

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Comments

Slipse #

Hear hear!!! I’m glad to find the blog of a fellow trucker, and though we’ve have got a large pond between our countries, some of our thaughts and troubles look alike!

"Elegant" John #

I miss the “good ol days” too. But I’ve been doing it for over thirty years so I really mean the “GOOD OL DAYS!”

I was thinking about this very subject last night coming into Laredo.

When I started, CB’s were new. The company I was with furnished them. A white Motorola 23 channel. The also furnished the bird dogs. They were new too. Don’t even remeber the name of the thing. Came before Whistlers. Big ass light on the front and a volume control.

We had cabovers then. Just about everyone did except a few owner operators. Condos and walkin handn’t happened then. Nationwide weight limit was 73,280. Interstate 40 was still a dream across much of the western states as was I-10.

Banning was a pain in the ass then as it is now. However, New Mexico, before they became certified LE officers could be crossed by dropping a box of produce off going east or a box of chickens or a bottle of booze at the POW going west. Good times then. Crossing Missisippi scale was an adventure or should I say running them was more of one. Redneck peckerwoods would come out and shoot at you if you ran their scales and we ran them often.

Women were abundant back then and safe. Hitch hikers, party girls, hookers. All good looking, honest, avaialble and willing. For an hour, a night, a week or until whenever you tired of them or they found a bigger, flashier, or faster truck to ride.

The Ontario 500 race track was still there across the freeway from Ontario 76 truckstop and man, the parties we had there on the back row. Bob tail races, wet T-shirt and strip shows on the back of empty flatbeds, unlimited beer, booze and barbque, and camraderie! If we had a problem, we fought it out with our fists and went and had a beer afterwards. No hard feelings. How times change!

Now it’s a chore that I hate to face every week!

Keith Povall #

Hello from England. As someone who used to write for a UK truck magazine, it was a pleasure to stumble across your journal.

ALl best wishes Keith Povall

H singh #

omg i would like to hear your stories i was lookin for a person like you who i can talk to my dad was a trucker he had a 1980 freightliner cabover 350 cummins 9spd he told me his experience he said with that 350 cummins when we saw a hill/upgrade we would put on our hazrds so people can cross him he use to loose the signal on the cb his truck wasnt the best i was very little i didnt know anything some things i can remember plz email me and ur name everything i love ur stories Thank you