There is a sound. You know it even if you are not a trucker. I don't know the words to exactly describe this sound, so let me use your memory to bring it into your ears. Imagine for a moment…
My wife and co-driver Diane and I haul expedited freight for a living. We were on a run from California to Texas, but this time there is a lot of extra time built in. Because of the pick up and delivery times, we had several more hours to complete the run than are needed. With no security protocols attached to the freight, we were free to leave the truck, sleep, or pass the spare time in other ways.
Diane’s driving shift ended about 1:00 a.m. local time in Arizona. I had been asleep in bed for several hours. When she stopped at a rest area we did not switch drivers as we usually do. Since we had lots of spare time, I stayed in bed.
Diane went through the routine to “secure for sleeping” as we call it…
She made sure the doors were locked, activated the truck security system, took visible valuable items off the dash (GPS, iPod, camera), updated her log book, used the Qualcomm unit to send dispatch a status update, physically shut the Qualcomm unit off, took the key out of the ignition switch, checked to make sure the parking and marker lights were on to make the truck more visible at night, and entered the sleeper.
She then set the generator to auto-on, zipped up the curtain that separates the cab from the sleeper, set her cell phone alarm clock, gave me my cell phone to set an alarm for the same time (backup in case one of us makes a mistake or one phone fails), cleaned up and joined me in bed.
Diane said her drive had been good. There was about a 3/4 moon out, the sky was clear, the winds were calm and traffic was light. She was asleep a few minutes later and I laid there awake.
I thought about my friend the moon. I thought about the desert. I thought about the open road. I thought about how I love driving in such conditions. And I thought about the rare chance I had to stay in bed instead of getting up to drive.
There is a sound. You know it even if you are not a trucker. I don’t know the words to exactly describe this sound, so let me use your memory to bring it into your ears. Imagine for a moment that you are in a building or vehicle late at night, and everything is quiet except for the sound of a big truck driving by at highway speeds.
The road is about 100 yards away. The sound begins quietly in the distance and grows louder as the truck approaches. Then comes the instant when the sound is loudest and the truck passes. The pitch changes and the volume fades to nothing as the truck drives on and silence again fills your ears.
With the light traffic Diane described, I’d heard the sound and then breathed deep to get back to sleep. A few minutes later, I’d heard the sound again, and again fixed my mind on sleep. Again the sound came and again I tried to sleep. After a few more times, I realized it was not the sound that was keeping me awake but the desire to drive. With each passing truck, I became more alert and my desire to get behind the wheel grew.
I finally gave up, got up, undid everything Diane did before, and rolled onto the freeway for a glorious evening of desert driving; just me, Little Putt Putt (our name for the truck), Mr. Moon and a ribbon of asphalt.
I drove across the desert, through Phoenix, across more desert and into Tucson. When I cleared the I-10/I-19 interchange, our GPS unit said in a female voice, “Drive 478 miles on I-10 East.”
While Tucson slept, a happy man drove through. I thought, how can you not love this job? There is nothing better than driving like this and I get to do it for hours and hours and hours many days and nights each week.
Next time you hear that sound, listen deeper for the life story that the sound carries too. If the story warms your heart, there is a good chance it is me or a like-minded driver of kindred spirit behind the wheel.
