Diary of a Truck Driver

I can’t wait to retire, well actually I can as I’ll possibly be old then and not just middle aged. The opportunity to cruise the highways and byways of this great land, at my leisure towing an eight foot wide box with little or no rearward visibility and even less formal training or testing is a pursuits that excites me. “Come along! Hop up here! We’ll go for a jolly ride! The open road! The dusty highway! Come! I’ll show you the world! Travel! Scene! Excitement! Ha ha ha!” ~The adventures of Ichabod and Mr Toad, 1949.

Of course I’m dabbling in the age old art of sarcasm, I can think of little that I would care to do less but I’m reminded of my disdain for the worst representatives of the grey nomadic clan by an event that occurred earlier today…

Returning home toward Tamworth myself and another heavy vehicle in front of me were stranded behind the stereotypical caravan, going slow enough to be annoying but fast enough not to be overtaken; think how annoying it is when someone enters your workplace and delays you progress. Abruptly the caravan performs a rapid deceleration and a left hand turn up a country lane. He (or she) was oblivious to the eighty tonne mass of metal following along behind them.

No incident ensued but there had been no indicators either, had this resulted in an accident the caravan driver would have sworn blind that they had indicated and at least one person, trying to earn a living in a tough industry, would have been charged with negligent driving and their income earning potential put on hold if not shattered.

Remember, mirrors aren’t just for shaving!

Listen to this blog here

It has been a while since I posted… writers block I guess although a week off thanks to torn ligaments in my lower back certainly hasn’t helped my authoring  juices to flow. But I’m back, no pun intended.

So now I’m back on the road (really need to give up on the puns) and things haven’t really changed much. The ‘P’ platers still drive like lunatics, the caravans still travel slow and the weekend is always too far away.

I’m at Moree tonight and I love the Newell Highway, it’s fairly straight , flat and not many towns. On the New England and the Pacific Highways, you are constantly shifting through the box to comply with the urban speed limits, climb hills and move around the local traffic. Out here on the Newell, it’s plain sailing most of the time. The authorities recently reduced the speed limit along the Newell, down from 110kph to 100kph. It doesn’t really change things for me much as the truck is limited to 100 anyway.

People often ask me how I deal with the boredom of driving all day… it’s not boring. I know most of the roads I traverse so well that it’s not as taxing to drive as it would be for the average punter out on a pleasure trip. But there is plenty to do sitting up here, planning the next leg of my trip, where best to stop for fuel, a break or shower etc. Where is the next overtaking opportunity, what do I know about the site of the next drop or pickup. Waiting for another excuse to phone Donna, just to hear her voice.

Then there is the entertainment; chasing radio stations (which I hate) or choosing a podcast to listen to and yes, I’m a podcast junkie, from ABC interviews to Hamish and Andy, I can’t get enough and then there’s the music. I have over a 1000 songs on call which played non stop would go for over 3 days so I set itunes to shuffle and away we go. Then there are the CB and the scanner which both provide constant amusement once you get clear of the cities where the idiots make it way too hard to listen to (and the Police broadcasts are scrambled). Lastly there’s always the phone and thanks to a good phone plan I don’t hold back on calling people up for nothing in particular.

There’s always loads to see on the road. Guessing what the road kill was before it became road kill. People on the road side, the man with the limp… how did he get it; where’s the well dressed lady going in such a hurry; everyone has a story and guessing what it is can be very entertaining to say the least. This doesn’t take into account the things you see people doing in the “privacy” of their own car, sitting up here certainly gives you a birds eye view.

Sometimes I turn it all of and listen to the whistle of the turbo and the whine of the tires, think about all the problems in the world, then solving them and listening to the sounds of silence.