Detour: A View From the Cab: Part 2

It boggles my mind when I consider that most people would be prepared to come to blows over an issue of having their pet subjected to extreme heat or cold, but many trucking companies and lawmakers seem to pay no heed to a moral thermometer in regard to subjecting truck drivers to sub-standard conditions. This seems to lend support to my assertion that a trucking company appears only to care about the amount of revenue generated—not the welfare of the driver. Despite their sophist rhetoric to the contrary, the reality lies in their actions.


On this occasion, it was necessary to threaten to quit in order to afford myself a basic necessity. However, playing the “I’ll quit” card isn’t always the smart option. If a driver quits when he is a long way from home, and then expects the company to provide him with transportation, he is in for another wakeup call. As another driver points out on a popular trucker’s forum in regard to this:

“They will bend you over and give it to you with no Vaseline every time… guaranteed!”

The smart option is to suck it up and wait until you are routed home and all of your belongings are removed from the truck. A trucking company will not pay to have your belongings shipped either. At the very least, the truck should be turned in at a company terminal and the driver should have the financial forethought to provide his own transportation for himself and his belongings. Believe me, if you get mad and quit when you’re in Moose Turd, Ontario, you’d better have a heavy parka and a good pair of snowshoes!

When it comes to large trucking companies, there seems to be no way to get past the impersonal nature of it. One of the reasons is that dispatchers are assigned to zones. As a result, the drivers and the dispatchers never get to know one another on a personal level. To me, the dispatcher in whatever zone I happen to be in is a faceless “John”, and to him, I am merely a truck number. I have encountered a few exceptions to this rule, and I tip my hat to the precious handful that has attempted to insert their own personal touch. But in the end, the grinding cogs of the huge corporate machine tend to drown out their tiny voices, and the machine spews out a number.

I have often gotten the distinct impression that many managers and dispatchers actually think that they know what road life is like. Having resided on both sides of the fence, I’ll say that they can understand the trucking life by sitting behind a desk about the same way that I can understand what it’s like to be a cowboy by watching a rodeo. I may get a narrow snapshot of what it’s like to be a cowboy, but I still have no inkling of the cowboy life.

While sitting in an air-conditioned office, it is impossible to understand what it’s like to have the need to make nightly applications of Emu oil on your feet to keep your heels from cracking; or the necessity to urinate in a milk jug; or being forced to drive 600 miles with a toothache; or the need to spray Lotrimin in your crotch to prevent jock itch. Neither, can they understand the necessity to spend an entire day of precious home time making preparations to go on the road again.

I’ll be the first to admit that my “view from the cab” does not provide me with an insight to the inner workings of a trucking company or the stresses, responsibilities, and headaches contained therein. I also concede that successful management does not always coincide with the desires of employees. Despite my railing, I have a high degree of respect for strong, competent, and ethical business leaders. Like truckers, they do not live in a world where “just anyone” can thrive. My contempt is only for the business leaders who are greedy and unethical, and whose primary goal is to line their own pockets like a squirrel stuffing acorns into it’s cheeks, with no regard to the hardworking people who make their standard of living possible.