Pro-Trucker Driver's Choice Nov-December 2022 ( Trucking Jobs in Canada)

FROM THE EDITOR’S DESK

BY JOHN WHITE

After thirty-four years, the traffic and the hustle and bustle of the Lower Mainland finally got to me, so two years ago, I decided it was time to retire. The opportunity to merge with Driver’s Choice magazine was a perfect solution as it meant that, after 22 years of publishing, Pro-Trucker would continue as an entity. It also meant that I would be free to “get out of Dodge” and move to the interior. Lillooet, BC, was the natural choice as we lived here for one year back in 1977, and I often returned for fishing and hunting in the alpine on horseback. My mother was still here, as were my two sisters and their husbands. Unfortunately, my mother passed at 98 years of age, but I am thankful I was able to be as close to her as long as I did.

Early one morning, just after moving in, well, early for a semi-retired editor trying to decide between his wife’s honey-do list and going fly-fishing, there was a knock on the door. With coffee in hand, I wandered over to see who was interrupting this very important train of thought.

I opened the door to see an oddly familiar, long, lanky drink of water with a big grin on his face. Before I could say anything, he said in a somewhat recognizable loud, boisterous voice, “Welcome to Lillooet. I am your local Sanitation Engineer. I want to let you know that your garbage pickup is Tuesday mornings around 9 am.” Just as he finished this introduction, Donna walked up behind me. She told me later that, overhearing the conversation, she thought that while she knew this was a friendly town, this introduction was still a bit over the top. He looked over my shoulder and said, “Hi, Donna.” Donna just stood there with the same puzzled look on her face as I had.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” he asked, and, like everyone who is given this challenge, her hesitant response was, “You look familiar.” He said, “I’m Ken Wiebe, your Oct 2001 Rig of the Month.”

Well, that started a long, enjoyable “how have you been doing conversation” on both our parts. I said that I had heard he quit driving, and he replied no, he just quit the highway. I asked about his wife, Barb, who once owned Rapid Rad in Calgary and used to advertise in Pro-Trucker. “She is serving her second term on the Lillooet town Council,” he replied. (She was just elected to her third term this past week.)

We have profiled over 200 Rig of the Month drivers over the years. Many have become friends, and I have had the opportunity to see them at the truck shows. Others I have kept in contact with for their work on social media, often promoting and influencing the industry’s direction. Some are still on the road, while others have retired or just quit driving, and sadly, some have passed away.

I often get calls or emails asking where some drivers may be, and I do my best to contact that person and let them know who is looking for them. (Ex-wives, husbands, girlfriends, boyfriends excluded.) As I mentioned, this has got me thinking about something that several readers suggested, a “Where Are They Now” column. I have also been looking at profiling the sons and daughters of drivers who have followed in their parent’s footsteps and become drivers themselves.

This came to mind after talking to Mike (Motor) Rosenau, who told me that Chicky Drouillard’s daughter Ashley, was now driving. I told him the story about, back in 2003, getting a mug from Chicky at Big Rig Weekend that read Chicky Drouillard and Daughter. I asked Ashley if one day I would be able to get a mug that said, “Ashley Drouillard and Father?” I still remember her eyes lighting up and, with a big grin, her saying, “Yup!” I’m not sure if this is in the works, but I would definitely like to add that one to my collection.

I hope everyone will, on the 11th hour of the 11th month, reflect on the ultimate sacrifice that many men and women made for their country during too many wars.

John White

john@ptmag.ca

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

John White: john@ptmag.ca

PUBLISHER

Coast2Coast Business Pages Ltd. ADVERTISING/MARKETING

Tony Arora: tony@coast2coastpages.com John White: john@ptmag.ca

PHOTOGRAPHY

This is also our last issue of 2022, and we here at ProTrucker Driver’s Choice wish everyone a very Merry Christmas, and may your New Year be safe and prosperous,

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RIG OF THE MONTH by John White

Our Rig of the Month for this issue is Ron Basi, a wellknown and well-respected 2nd generation truck driver and company owner from Vancouver Island.

I am the oldest of four siblings born and raised in Victoria, BC. I have wanted to be a truck driver for as long as I can remember. My dad, Gurdial, and his two brothers, Kirp and Jerry, were also truck drivers. Our home was near the BC Forest Products sawmill, and my elementary school was on top of a hill where all the trucks leaving the mill had to drive by. This allowed me to listen to the trucks coming up the hill loaded with lumber, plywood, or chips. I knew the sound of my dad’s 1968 W923 that he drove for Ideal Fuel a mile away. That 250 Cummins with the 13-speed

whine would always make me turn my head toward my classroom window to confirm it was him. Ideal Fuel used to name all their trucks along with a unit number. Dad’s was “E My Only Baby” unit 115. This was shortened to “Only Baby.” Uncle Kirp drove a truck and pup with a 250 and a 5 and 4 called “Silver Baby,” and Uncle Jerry drove a K100 with a sleeper, 250 Cummins and 5 and 4 called “Million Dollar Baby.”

I used to ride along with my dad and uncles whenever I could. It was usually on a Saturday when they

were hauling between Cowichan Bay (Cow Bay) and Honeymoon Bay or Nanaimo. I loved the smell of diesel, exhaust, and lumber of all types. I knew then that I was hooked! There was a slight problem though - my dad did NOT want me to be a truck driver. Like all parents at that time, they wanted their kids to go to university. So I said that I would, but could I drive trucks while I was going to school? No harm in that, eh?

After graduating from Victoria High School in 1977, I enrolled at the local college to become a shop

Ron Basi

teacher and worked at Ideal Fuel in the summers. I started off driving a 3-ton late 50’s Ford with a dumping wood box. I would load up firewood which were planer ends from sawmills, and deliver it to homes in Victoria. This is where I learned about two-speed rear ends and to always clear the sawdust off between the back of the cab and the dump box. Boy, did that gas engine get hot! I then asked if I could drive the tandem Dodge with the flip-out front fenders. This one had a big V8 gasser and a 5 and 4. This is where I cut my teeth, learning to shift a two-stick. I figured it out by watching other drivers and asking lots of questions. Like, “How come the A box keeps getting stuck?” I was told it was because I was “round housing” the shift from 2 to 3. The mechanic, Wilf Tucker, told me it was also because it was worn out. He taught me how to free it up with a bar I could poke through the non-existent shifter boot from inside the cab.

Next came the opportunity to drive a real truck. A mid 70’s W900A hog truck (that’s what we called trucks that hauled bark) that had a 335 with a 5 and 4, wagon wheels and a 7-unit pusher box. The bug deflector on the hood had the name “Gunslinger.” It even had a Jake! Now I was styling! This working thing was getting better all the time. The only thing I was missing was a proper class license.

I was stopped at a roadside inspection while driving Gunslinger and was told I only had a class 5 with air. I was about to say something when the officer asked if I had just got my license recently, to which I nodded my head. “It must be held up in the system somewhere,” was all I heard through my heartbeat throbbing in my chest. After that I told my boss Mohan that I should get my class 1 license so I could work legally for him, and asked if it would be alright if I rode along with the other drivers.

I had been working at Ideal Fuel for two summers while going to college when I broke the news to my parents. “I don’t want to continue with school. I want to be a truck driver”. You’d think I had just told my parents that I wanted to join the Nazi party and would only eat raw meat from now on. To say they were upset was an understatement. I was the oldest son and chose not to get a higher education. What would their friends think? What kind of example is this for my younger siblings? (One sister is a social worker, the other a police officer, and my brother is a high school teacher).

I rode with my dad for the next year and drove every chance I had. I loaded lumber and learned how to throw chains over two by three random rough hemlock using metal corners and a snap binder with a pipe for leverage. Belts had not been invented yet. I went to mills and deliveries all over Vancouver Island. It was great working with my dad, exploring all these cool places and getting paid for it!

The class 1 learner’s license was only good for six months back then. So, I asked my dad if I could take my road test since my learner’s license was about to expire. He said, “No.”

So, I renewed my learners, drove with him for another six months, and asked again, ”Can I get my license now??”

This time he said, “okay.” The road test was a piece of cake. I had driven Kenworth conventionals, cab overs, Internationals, Hayes and Dodges. Thirteen speeds, 15 direct and overs, two sticks, 5-speed and 12-speed Mack transmissions. Cummins 250, 335, 250, 318’s, 350 Jimmys and 237 Macks. I drove in all seasons, had breakdowns, flat tires, cracked wheels, sketch loads, and learned to tarp, plus the advantage of riding along with other drivers. What a learning experience!

Some of my memorable jobs was

driving for Hersey Transport out of Duncan. They had just got these International chip trucks with twin steer and a four-axle trailer. They had 525HP Detroits, with 15 speeds. I was working the night shift hauling wood chips between Youbou and Crofton. I pulled under the bunkers, opened the doors, and loaded the trailers nice and full. Heading down the Cowichan highway was a smooth ride. At Crofton, you scale the truck and the trailer, then dump. Everything went without a hitch. The next day I was called to dispatch before I went out. My weigh slips from the previous night showed 75,000 lbs for the truck and 85,000 lbs on the trailer. The dispatcher said, “kid, don’t put so much on; you’re a little heavy.”

After working locally for a couple of years in town, I went to Shadow Lines in 1981, driving a 1976 GMC Astro with a 318 for a guy in Victoria. I was pulling a 42’ flat deck on one trip and was reloading in Clackamas, Oregon. As the forklift operator started loaded, he said, “How wide is this trailer?” I told him it was 8’6”, and he said I was only allowed 8’ wide down here. Luckily it was a tarped load, so I asked him to keep the load to the outside edge so the gap wouldn’t be so obvious when it was tarped. I puckered up pretty good going through every scale back to BC, but I made it without anyone noticing.

I worked there for six months before realizing I wasn’t making as much as doing local hourly work, so I returned to Victoria. Hauling lumber slowed in the winter, and dry freight picked up, so I went to Capitol Freightways. They called my dispatcher Mooney and asked if any drivers wanted to haul dry freight and do some warehouse work. So Jim Baker and I went (probably because we were two of the youngest guys). The trucks were all Internationals with Detroits and one Formula Cummins. After coming from decks, this van work

was easy. All we had to do was close the doors and go. Or so I thought. I had never used a load lock before or stepped any freight down while doing LTL in the city. But I learned quickly because I didn’t want to clean up the mess more than once!

It was in 1983 that I moved to Prince George to work for Inter City Express (who later changed its name to International Chemical Express). The Blaney family had the largest private fleet of stainless steel tankers after Trimac at the time. I drove a slim line cab over International with another 8V92 and pulled a nonbaffled 3,500-gallon trailer with a lift axle in the middle. Talk about another learning curve pulling tankers that were not always completely filled. I hauled chemicals to the pulp mills in PG, Quesnel and Kitimat. I also went to mines in Endako, Mcleese Lake, Houston, and different water treatment plants around BC. Prince George was the friendliest town I’d been to at that time. I’d never been invited to dinner, or to an air show in Vanderhoof, or to try wild game

before. (bear is a little too fatty, but moose meat is good).

This was also when I met the girl

I would meet again a year later in Victoria that I married. I met Gwen at the Y in PG in an aerobics class (you gotta love Welcome Wagon). We got married in 1988 in Victoria and have two wonderful kids. Jenna and Cameron are now 33 and 31.

I started a tractor service in 1993 and called it JenCam Transport. I’ll give you three guesses on how I picked the name. My first couple of trucks were a 1976 International 4300 with a 318 and a 1973 Freightliner cab over with a small cam 350. I grew bit by bit, hauling groceries and general freight on the island and eventually had seven trucks with ten drivers. Have you ever asked yourself, “How did they get their license??” With ten drivers, I was asking that question a lot. I realized most people didn’t get their licenses the way I did. There was only one driving school in Victoria at the time, so I thought we needed one that would teach them how to work

and drive. This was when I started my own driving school. I went to Valley Driving School and learned how to become a driving instructor and to the Canadian Association of Fleet Supervisors to learn how to teach air brakes. Javid Begg and Ed Nelson at Valley were awesome instructors and trainers to who I’m eternally grateful for their patience and knowledge. Allan Wright was the best authority on the air brake system in North America at the time. I called my school, Complete School of Truck Transportation. I realized much later that it was a dumb name because it was too long. I’ve shortened it to CSTT Driver Training which is much easier to get onto business cards, shirts, hats etc. The driving school opened in 1999 and has been a major player in training truck drivers in Victoria. I was the only driving instructor for the first five years in my 1996 Ford L9000 day cab with a 3406C and 13 speed. Just like drivers, good instructors are hard to find. Not all can or want to teach what they are good at. My dad was a prime example of how not to teach today. You can’t

swear, threaten, or beat (just kidding) students.

JenCam is still a going concern and fits nicely with the school. Where else can new drivers get to go to a mill, dock, mine, or industrial site while they are learning? I can’t hire everyone I teach, but I can direct them to a driving job that fits them. Employers trust my judgement when I say I’ve got someone who fits their operation.

Place Truck and Trailer picture here

I come to work every day wearing my safety boots and a hi vis vest. This just isn’t a fashion statement as some would think, but I’m always ready to jump into a truck. This picture

is of my delivering to a yard in Cloverdale. I called ahead and asked for directions, and then asked if the yard was paved and clean. There was dead silence on the other end until I started laughing and said, “It’s okay, I have my California duster with me”. When I showed up, it’s like they were waiting to see what kind of truck and person would show up. When I move trailers on weekends and someone asks if I’m working, my answer is always “Not today, I’m just driving around”

Those that know me (or know of me) know that I like trucks. A lot. Maybe too much. Yes, I have an addiction. Like all addicts, I associate with other addicts like Dean Griffiths, Rollie Lancaster, Justin Morgan,

Ross Stevens, Gord Cooper, Stephen Large, Rich Rankin, Brian Teers, Don Affleck and soooo many others. I always say, “I could be doing drugs or alcohol.” I belong to a few truck clubs like the ATHS and try to go to as many truck shows as possible. Most folks know me for my turquoise W9000 that I got from Brian Hyrcan in Delta. I also have his 82 W900A aerodyne that was featured in the 1999 Pro-Trucker Rig of the Month. I even have the magazine.

I’ve been very fortunate to have never worked a day in my life. I love what I do. As for disappointing my parents for not becoming something more than a ‘truck driver,’ I think they are over that now.

Letters to the Editor

John

Per my earlier email, the Government of Canada has approved AM / FM Citizens Band radio. What this means to the trucking industry is that there is now a far less expensive radio option than the LAD VHF ($700 plus), but it still has a similar range. It is essentially a plug-and-play replacement to the old AM CB radios. Only now can you switch between the Am and FM bands. In addition to the longer range, the FM band isn’t subject to the same skip interference as the AM band.

Even better, AM / FM CB does not require a license, while the VHF LAD radios require restricted licenses in Canada and are prohibited in the United States. This is because they interfere with US Police and Federal government radio systems in the States. In addition, there could be jail time if caught using a VHF LAD radio in the States because their restriction falls under Home Security. Industry Canada and FCC are working on approving qualified radios. As of Monday, 2022/10/17, the only radio approved in Canada, and the US is the “President Bill II FCC full AM/ FM CB” This little CB is less than 4x4x1 inch in size and costs approximately $200 on Amazon.ca. This is an excellent option for small fleets.

The United States approved AM / FM CB two years ago, and there are two US models from President and Cobra already in use, but these units are not approved in Canada.

J.Cooper Independent transportation and Communications advisor

John,

I have been reading for years about poor licensing for class 1 drivers and now people are talking about a trade certification but how would this work for farmers? I have been operating the family farm for 35 years. I have had my class 1 for approximately 45 years and only use it during harvest and all of that driving is short runs on reasonably flat ground. Why should my grandkids have to go through a full apprenticeship to run the farm as I and my son have? It seems like a total waste of time and unnecessary expense on our part. TM.

Editor’s note: No one size fits all exist in this or any occupation. A Doctor takes basic medicine and then specializes. The same could work for Truck Driving, where the basics of driving with an emphasis on safety are taught, and then endorsements for specialty driving like Mountain driving, winter driving and a multitude of truck trailer combinations. In the instance

Pro-Trucker Driver’sChoiceMagazine

of your grandkids, they may only need an endorsement for hauling a particular trailer or cattle. Mountain driving and many combinations would be of no use to them. Your situation is unique as someone raised on a farm has usually been around machinery all his life. Most farm kids have been behind the wheel of some machine by the time they are 12 years old. This is why for the most part, farm kids have always been regarded as good drivers who are easy on equipment. But today, a kid raised in the city and who learned to drive in a Honda can go out and get his license with little expense and even less experience. Unfortunately, as it stands, your grandkids will have to share the road with this type of new driver. This is not to say that you can’t take a city kid and teach him to be a good driver because many out there are. It is just that the learning curve is much longer when machinery is relatively new to you.

Love and Trucking

Irecently moved to Alberta to be with an incredible woman who has captivated and captured my soul with her charm and intelligence. This will be the third union in my 87-year lifespan and the most significant in terms of sharing a life together. Maturity plays a huge role in romance.

My first wife, although her father was a long-haul owner-operator, never quite grasped the concept of my being away from home for more than a day or two. Sometimes it was a couple of weeks before I came home. I was a good father taking our three progeny, two boys and a girl, with me on many occasions right across the continent and into the Excited States, adding to their geographical knowledge and expanding their social acuity and awareness of how the world works in the western hemisphere. This relationship ended after 32 years due to addiction. Thankfully this has since been corrected for the sake of two grandchildren - a great blessing.

The second union was a wonderful love-filled romantic whirlwind that also lasted for 32 years but ended with two terrible diseases which took the life of my cherished spouse. She understood the trucking life, having been a hostess in a large truck stop in eastern Ontario and having acquired a license to drive a semi, which was a big help on the road. We learned and shared a great deal of life’s philosophy and nature while together, both on and off the road. In fact, in order to be more effective as a team, we both took a life skills program in different venues because it was so intense, and later, as a safety supervisor, I applied the tenets to my role as a mentor.

While on the road, likely because of my age and experience, I became a bit of a sounding board for other drivers having issues at home. Sometimes the imagination runs rampant, and drivers

have too much time to think negatively about their love life. One common assumption is that while he is away, the wife sits around all day watching TV or drinking coffee, or perhaps wine with other wives, and does little else while her hubby is out there in all kinds of weather, traffic, facing customs and other challenges a driver endures on a daily basis. If children are involved, the wife certainly is a busy girl with all the parenting and household duties left for her to accomplish without the help of her partner. Daily phone calls home with the right attitude do help. I would challenge the driver to go home, take the children off his wife’s hands for the duration he’s home and assume as many of the household duties as possible and see for himself how the love of his life “sits around doing nothing” while he’s out busting his butt.

One such situation with a driver from Manitoba changed dramatically. After our CB chat, I met him several trips later, and he was profuse with his gratitude for our two-way talk. Another driver, a bull hauler, noted for his tendency to get riled up over an imagined offence, took my advice to think only positively about the activity at his home base and to also take charge and give his love some free time. He was surprised and delighted at the changes that occurred from his genuine attention. There were many other successes and only a very limited failure rate by drivers who refused to change but continued with the masculine fallacy of supremacy in the family unit. These certainly would result in a sad arrangement and might even leave a damaging psyche in the case of the offspring.

I would encourage the married reader and those with girlfriends or fiancés to think about equality in terms of their

By Ed Murdoch

Ed has held a commercial drivers license for 65 years and has spent the better part of 50 years on the road. You can get Ed’s new book at www.drivingthroughmymemories.ca

relationships. As drivers, you do work hard, I know, having experienced over 50 years of travelling the length and breadth of North America and hauling most commodities on flat decks, A, B & C trains, reefers and dry vans, but never livestock or logs. It was a very rewarding life, but I am aware that times have changed dramatically in the twenty or so years since I hung up my chain-drive wallet.

The first secret to a successful relationship is communication between partners and meaningful interaction without negativity, rancour or intense emotion. Most battles may be avoided with honest, from the head and not the heart, direct communication. Secondly, be happy and content within yourself. Others, especially your loved ones, will be attracted to you. Any necessary changes begin with you. Each of us, and only us, are responsible for our own behaviours. No one else can “make” you happy, angry or sad. Only you have that power. Thirdly, instead of focusing on complaints and people bashing, which only tends to exacerbate the problem, focus on the good things about your relationships, especially those of your partner, and those strengths will increase exponentially. That’s called behaviour modification.

Do not assume those who interfere with your progress on the job got up that morning, intending to ruin your day. Think only positive thoughts. Negativity has absolutely no reward; positivity is its own reward. Be well and be safe and motor with care and love in your heart … 10-4!

Ocean Trailer is proud to be Utility Trailers only authorized dealer in Western Canada

Books and Covers

There is an old saying, “You should never judge a book by its cover.”

If you have read my articles, you will know me as a truck driver. What you may not know is that I was in the General Insurance business for over 12 years. I insured cars, houses, construction companies and also trucking companies. And therein lies this article.

When I was in the Yukon, I had insured a trucking company. A lot of insurance companies wouldn’t insure anything in the “Frozen North,” so they were very picky about who they insured, and as an agent, we were limited. The insurance company I had

insuring this trucking company asked me to obtain a driver’s licence abstract for every driver, interview them, and send them the results.

With the company owner’s permission, I had every driver into my office for an interview. I had the good drivers come in first and saved the worst for last.

The last driver had an abstract that was nearly a novel – he had seven infractions in 3 years. I pointed out to him that when I send the insurance company my report and his abstract, they would not be impressed, and the way it looked, they may not insure him. He immediately said, “all you pencil-pushing a%#@&*&s are the same; you don’t know the back from the front of a truck, and you can just sit there and cost a man his job.” I said, “slow down, I can help you here if you will just listen for a minute.” Then he goes into another tirade about “pencil pushers,” and they don’t know up from down about driving a truck. So once again, I said slow down and keep your trap shut and listen – I can help you.

This speeding in a playground zone – I can tell them it was 4:00 am in the morning and

By Frank Milne Retired Driver, Lease operator and company owner

you were going 30 mph – the posted speed limit when the playground is not in effect. Playground speed is from 1 hour before sunup and 1 hour after sundown. In the Yukon, in the summer, when you got your ticket, the sun is up at 4:00 am or before – that’s why it’s called the land of the midnight sun. There are no kids playing in the playground at 4:00 am. Now, doesn’t that make it appear a lot better?

Then there is driving an unlicensed motor vehicle on a public road. It looks bad when you see it on your abstract, but if I explain that it was a snowmobile and you were on a back road with no traffic present, and you were only on the back road for less than ¼ of a mile, to get to your pickup to load it. That makes it look a lot better.

He was still talking and not listening, so I suggested that he go home and think about it and that I wanted to see him in my office next week.

After he left, I phoned the company’s owner and arranged to see him at his home that evening. When I got there, I explained the interview with the driver and his attitude toward “pencil pushers.” Then I showed him my Class 1 driver’s licence, told him I had driven a truck before, and told him of 2 companies I had driven for. Then I asked him if he would allow me to drive one of his trucks. (They

were all semi-trailer tankers hauling fuel). He said okay. I said I wanted to be dispatched on Sunday morning in one of the trucks and that the “problem driver” would be driving, and at the same time. He agreed and said I trust you, and if you bend it, at least you are the insurance guy.

So early Sunday morning, I got there an hour before dispatch time, and I was ready to go when the driver came. I was parked so he could not see me, and when he pulled out, I was right behind him and followed him to the first coffee stop. I parked beside him, got out, and met him in front of the trucks. He said, “what are you doing here?” I replied that I thought I’d come on a trip to experience what truck driving was all about. He then asked me who was driving the truck. That’s when I said, “you are looking at him.” He was taken aback, and that’s when I told him that sometimes those

We went and had our coffee and chatted. I could see that he was seeing me in a different light. I said I had hauled tankers before, but I didn’t know the procedure at this bulk plant and that I would appreciate it if he would guide me. That way, he was in control again, which was good. We picked up our loads and returned to the yard, and he said I’ll see you in your office on Tuesday.

When he came into the office on

Tuesday, he was a changed man –most notably his attitude about “pencil pushers.”

P.S. He kept his job (with the help of my “elaborate” explanations)

P.P.S. To err is human – to forgive is divine.

“pencil pushers” may know your job just as well or even better than you!

Dad meets a “Bear.”

Now, Dad was quite a man, and being an ex-serviceman who had gone ashore on D-Day, he wasn’t scared of much, but I remember one time his face turned white with fear. We had been contacted by a company that wanted to send two big tracked backhoes away up north in Manitoba to Leaf Rapids. So dad looked at the maps and figured out a price, and away we went. The Backhoes were used but still fairly new, and we had no problems loading them at the auction site just outside Toronto and tied them down extra well.

Toronto to Winnipeg was no problem, and as this was in September. The leaves were all turning, traffic was light, and it was a great drive with both trucks running well and only one flat on an outside dual to slow things down. We ended up spending the night in Winnipeg and headed north the following day. It was a beautiful Autumn morning with lots of sunshine and fairly warm temperatures. We were not travelling too fast and ended up spending the next night in Thompson. The next morning, after a good breakfast and a thorough inspection of the trucks and

loads, we headed out a little late, but we didn’t have far to go so we were not too worried.

I was following Dad, and just as we came to Tumbelling Lake, Dad spotted a little pullout and pulled off to the side. I pulled right in behind him. He hopped out of the truck, waved at me with a roll of toilet paper in his hand and said, “I’m just going to step into the tree line and do a job, be right back.” I hollered at him to take the shotgun in case of bears, but he was halfway to the trees and yelled back, “I’ll be OK. You can come running with the rifle if you hear me yell.”

I got out, watered a tire, and was standing beside the truck when I heard the un-godliest roar I had ever heard. I turned and saw Dad, pants still halfway down, come out of the bush and head for the truck on the dead run. He yelled at me to get the rifle, and I jumped in my truck, grabbed the 3030 and hopped back out. I could not see anything, but there was a big old pine tree just about where Dad had been, so I fired a shot into the tree just in case a bear was behind him to scare it off. Dad managed to get his pants

up, hopped up into his truck, came back out with my pump shotgun, and stood by the truck. His face was as white as snow. I ran up to him and asked him what had happened. He told me that he was just wiping his butt when he turned, and about ten feet away, he saw the largest brown bear he had ever seen. He said that when it stood up from a crouch (his words), the darn thing was about 10 feet tall, making the roar I had heard. We stood there for a couple of minutes, then hopped in our trucks, and took off.

Later as we unloaded, Dad told some of the locals at Leaf Rapids what had happened. They told him that it was not a bear. It was a Bigfoot. I casually mentioned that they might want to watch their outhouses as Dad had left ¾’s of a roll of toilet paper behind, and Bigfoot might just get used to the softness.

How It’s Done In Texas

A cowboy rode into town and stopped at a saloon for a drink. Unfortunately, the locals always had a habit of picking on strangers like him. When he finished his drink, he found his horse had been stolen. He went back into the bar, handily flipped his gun into the air, caught it above his head without even looking and fired a shot into the ceiling.

“Which one of you sidewinders stole my horse?!?!?” he yelled with surprising forcefulness. No one answered. “Alright, I’m gonna have another beer, and if my horse ain’t back outside by the time I finish, I’m gonna do what I dun in Texas! And believe me, I don’t want to have to do what I dun in Texas!”

Some of the locals shifted restlessly. The man, true to his word, had another beer, walked outside, and his horse has been returned to the post. He saddled up and started to ride out of town. The bartender wandered out of the bar and asked, “Say partner, before you go... what happened in Texas?” The cowboy turned back and said, “I had to walk home.”

Dave Madill

Common Sense

You can ask as many drivers as you want about driving a truck, and you will get as many opinions as there are drivers. For me, truck driving is not so much a job as it is a way of life.

We all know that not everyone in a truck is qualified to be in the profession. I don’t claim or want people to think that I have the answer to the problem. But I don’t believe any changes made in the last couple of years – since Humboldt – have made any difference. We are no closer to lessening or eliminating catastrophic truck accidents. The proof that nothing has changed can be seen in the recent accident at Cereal and Chinook, Alberta.

It is only common sense that you cannot start school in kindergarten and, within a month, try to write your grade 12 exams. In car racing, you don’t climb into a 3000-horsepowered car and compete without seat time learning the craft. In trucking, a person can apply to get their Class 1 license, and within three weeks, they can legally get into a truck and pull a 53-foot tridem, a B-train or what have you. All they need is someone desperate for drivers or have enough money to buy their own equipment.

Each province has its own requirement for qualifying to get a Class 1 licence, which in my humble opinion, is the main problem. The

Wrong Club

only way I see driver problems (qualification, experience and common sense) getting better is to have graduated licenses, incentives for companies to properly train and make the Class 1 license a Canada-wide training and testing program. Not a province-byprovince ruling.

As things are now, there are too many incidents that trucks are involved in that do not even get reported or make the front page news. The following are just two such fender benders.

The first happened to my wife on the way to work. There was a loaded B-train travelling in the slow lane. The car ahead of my wife was beside the trailer when a tire blew out on the trailer. There was noise, dirt, dust and spare parts flying. The car ahead put the brakes on, pulled over, and stopped on the shoulder. My wife pulled over onto the shoulder and half onto the grass. Then a second B-train swerved right to miss the debris, and as he swung back left, his back trailer side-swiped the car on the shoulder. Neither of these trucks stopped, and no one involved got license numbers.

The second one was told to me by a lady who parked beside me at a grocery parking lot. Her car had a horizontal indentation just above the

By Glen Millard

Glen “The Duck” was born in Saskatchewan. He has driven trucks for 50 years, mostly long hauling. He’s now retired, that is until another adventure comes along.

grille across from one headlight, the hood to the other fender. I am fairly timid, so I asked her what caused this. She was travelling on Highway #1 at Chilliwack, following a transport truck at a safe distance as they passed Prest Road exit when suddenly, with no warning, the truck slammed on the brakes and came to a complete stop in the slow lane. He then proceeded to back up. She and the other cars behind her blew their horns, but he didn’t stop until he backed into her car. There were four witnesses, and she got the truck and trailer license and the truck driver’s license number. His only explanation was that he had missed his exit. She reported this to the RCMP and the insurance company. The next day the insurance company phoned and told her that the truck driver’s license did not exist in their files.

I have seen more than a few of the same actions by Class 1 drivers myself. I’m sure there are other drivers out there that can relate the same things. However, until this is addressed across Canada, not province by province, there will always be the next BIG ONE.

Dennis and Jake were out golfing when Dennis sliced his ball into a wooded ravine. He grabbed his 8-iron and proceeded down the embankment.Dennis searched through the underbrush and suddenly he spotted something shiny. As he got closer, he realized that the shiny object was in fact an 8-iron in the hands of a skeleton lying near an old golf ball. Dennis excitedly called out to Jake: “Hey Jake, come here, I’ve got big trouble. ”Jake ran over to the edge of the ravine and called out, “What’s the matter Dennis?”Dennis shouted back in a nervous voice: “Throw me my 7-iron! Looks like you can’t get out of here with an 8-iron.”

The Terrorist

Hidden among society like a cancer of the soul,

A terrorist plots his deadly deeds, his eyes upon his goal.

Freedom is not in his game, he lives for hate and fear,

Destruction is his way of life and death always hovers near.

Yet he is a coward who does not wish to fight,

Like a rat he cowers in the cover of the night.

Explosives ate his tool of choice and the innocent his prey.

His dreams are dreams of power where the innocent must pay.

If we win we live in freedom, if he wins we live as slaves.

If we win the stars are our home, if he wins, we live in caves.

Now is the time to make a choice, which one will it be?

Me – I made my choice, if I die I’ll at least die free.

Dave Madill

Like a Boss

Retirement is a wonderful thing. When my good lady, Isabel, goes out, I can sit in peace and quiet and let my mind drift off into the past. The other day I started to think of all the bosses I have worked under.

One company I worked for, Irish Express, was based in the Republic of Ireland just outside Dublin. In the UK, it was called Express Cargo Forwarding. I worked dayshift for them with occasional nightshift holiday cover. One day a couple of guys drove into the yard and introduced themselves as the new UK managing director and his assistant.

We were all called into the office to be shown a slide show telling us how well the company was doing. As the dayshift drivers sat there, instead of being out on the road, I thought, what a waste of time and money. A company magazine could’ve done the same job . For me, first impressions weren’t great, but it was about to worsen.

This new managing director had a great idea to change the name of the UK side of the business to be the same as the Irish side, Irish Express. He ordered a load of stationary with the new name and even had a couple of the trucks from English depots repainted. When the guy who owned a company in the UK called Irish Express saw those trucks, the poop hit the fan, as the saying goes. We later found out our new managing director had no experience in trucking and knew nothing about transport in general. In fact, his last job had been in a cell phone company. But surely a little research would’ve told him the Republic of Ireland is not part of the UK. I can only imagine he must’ve been one heck of a cell phone salesman if he had talked his way into a job as

managing director of a transport company. Before Express Cargo Forwarding, I worked for Lep Transport for about seventeen years, where I met my buddy, Les. They ran their own trucks and employed their own mechanics for many years. So, it was a bit of a shock when they told us we were being made redundant. That news was swiftly followed by telling us we would now work for Southern Transport, who had won the contract to supply and maintain the trucks at Glasgow and Prestwick Airports.

The boss of Southern Transport, John Paterson, was another son following in his father’s footsteps. But John’s idea of how to run the company was slightly different from his father’s. The contract to supply three trucks to Glasgow and one truck to Prestwick changed from the general haulage the company was used to.

Lep had some big contracts with IBM, Polaroid and Wang computers and started giving loads to Southern Transport’s trucks.

At first, it was full loads down to Heathrow Airport in London. As time passed, Southern Transport was getting most of its work from Lep. A few drivers who had worked for his father were angry with John Paterson for putting all his eggs in one basket and abandoning their other contracts.

It all came to a head one day in the office when an argument with a driver called Albert ended up in a fight. Albert was sacked, of course. Another driver was sacked for a misdemeanour, and then trucks started to break down at the

By Colin Black

Colin Black lives in Bellshill, Lanarkshire, Scotland and has been driving truck for over 40 years. His story shows us once again that the problems drivers face are universal.

side of the road. Sabotage or vandalism was blamed when they discovered sugar in the fuel tanks.

But one of the broken-down trucks had a tragic end. The garage manager borrowed one of the company’s small box vans every year to take the local scout troop to their summer camp. When he came across one of the company’s trucks at the side of the road, he stopped to see if he could help. As usual, not all the traffic coming up on the breakdown was as alert as it should’ve been. A truck had to brake hard, bounced off the central barrier and crushed the garage manager from the waist down. He passed away in the hospital later that day.

Then came the day the cops and the ministry of transport came into the yard and said there had been an “anonymous” phone call. The cops blocked the entrance to the yard while the ministry went through all the driver’s hours and wages files. Most of the drivers still working there were fined for exceeding driving and working hours, and the company lost its operator’s licence and closed.

Who sugared the tanks or made the anonymous phone call was never proven, but it makes you wonder if it was some of those ex-drivers how they could be so bitter as to do that to people they had worked with for years is beyond belief. Just because they disagreed with the way the boss’s son ran the company.

It’s a Wonderful World

Idon’t even know where to start on how thankful I am. So many good things happen all year round, but September and October seemed especially full!!

I’m so thankful that good health allows me to do the job I love. I’m thankful for the amazing family and friends who support and encourage me every step of the way. I’m thankful to be presented with new and exciting opportunities at every turn.

I was recently interviewed for an article published in a US magazine. One of the questions was along the lines of, “What goals do you think you still have to achieve in your career?” I almost didn’t know what to say. Shocking, I know!! When I thought about it, the best answer I could think of was, “Maybe I’ve peaked!” I don’t know where else my career could really take me, but I’m always open to more opportunities. I never dreamed that I would be living my best life when I signed up to be a truck driver.

I was only able to take in one truck show this year, but I managed to make it to the Big Iron Classic in Kasson, MN. It was great meeting up with old friends and making new ones. It’s always so nice to be able to put a face to a truck that you’ve seen so many times in passing yet never get a chance to stop and talk. I don’t ever spend much time in one place enough to relax and really enjoy the conversation. I always feel like I’m so rushed and trying to pack so much into short periods of time. I met a driver, Nick, from Jade Transport, who I had spoken to on CB multiple times but never actually spoke face to face. He was parked a couple of trucks down from me, so I went to introduce myself. I ended up introducing him to the wonderful people I’ve met over the years attending this show. This is what I find great about trucking. It’s the camaraderie we find amongst other truck drivers. This was Nick’s first truck show, and I think he quite enjoyed

himself and looks forward to many more in the upcoming truck show season. I remember going to my first truck show, wondering if I would make any friends. I wasn’t sure if people were “cliquey” and stayed in their own groups or if they welcomed newcomers. My good friend Bear introduced me to so many people who are now my long-time friends, so if I can return that favour and introduce new people into the group, I definitely will!

I was really trying to plan my month of September strategically because I knew I had a big vacation coming up. As I get older, I think about where my life is headed and what I hope to achieve and accomplish. I’ve always wanted to travel more but what often ends up happening is I don’t save up for it, or I don’t actually go through the steps of trying to organize or plan it.

With covid, travel was basically nonexistent, but some really good friends of mine had a trip in the works to South Africa for when restrictions were going to get lifted. My friend Corey, who had actually trained me to drive a big truck many years ago, was the one who told me about this trip. He had been once already, and it sounded just amazing! When he told me about this next trip, I was one of those annoying types who just invite themselves. But, to my luck, he didn’t mind letting me tag along. I was beyond thrilled to get this chance. Corey and Kathy were fantastic enough to do all the planning; I just needed to show up. Some people often wonder if their travel companions will get along or if there will be issues, but considering I basically lived in a big truck with Corey for a month or two while he trained me, I figured we would be just fine.

One leg of the flight was a 15-hour one from Atlanta to Johannesburg. Seeing as I sit for upwards of 11 hours a day in the truck, I thought this shouldn’t be too tough. Although in the

By Myrna Chartrand

truck, I can pull over and go for a walk whenever I want. Honestly, though, I did much better on the flight than I thought I would.

Once arriving in Johannesburg, I was hit with that feeling of, “Oh my goodness! I’m really here!” Right from start to finish, the vacation was absolutely amazing! We stayed at Dinkwe Lodge and Safaris. The accommodations were beyond anywhere I’ve ever stayed. Absolutely stunning! The people that owned the lodge were fantastic!! They made sure our stay was an enjoyable one. The food was amazing! We even got to try some wild game, sable and eland. Both were so tasty!! I’ve never seen sunsets like I got to see there. It was just so wild to be driving along the bushes and see a couple of giraffes standing there looking back at us. I got to tag along on a South African hunt, got to try my hand at fly fishing and took in some whiskey and local gin tastings. I learned so much about life and culture in South Africa. Some aspects really make you appreciate what you have at home that you may take for granted.

When asked if I would go back, the answer was, “In a heartbeat!” I got the travel bug now and can’t cure it. Like John Denver sang, “All my bags are packed, I’m ready to go….I’m leaving on a jet plane.”

In addition to planning the next trip to South Africa, I was invited to join a group tour to Italy and Greece in July. Although I don’t have the money saved up for it yet, I have that fear of missing out, so guess who will be trying to pack on the miles over the next eight months to try to finance the trip??

Myrna was born and raised in Oak Point, Manitoba and was our April 2019 Rig of the Month driver.