The Long Road That I've Travelled

The end of July 2005, I headed off to begin truck driving school in Iowa. Leaving my nursing career behind, I trekked the road toward a Commercial Driver's License (CDL), and became a team driver/owner-operator of a semi truck with a man named Rob, who had started driving for the same company on the day I had started my driving class.

He had been sent to Oklahoma City to pick up a 2002 International with a Super-10 shift, that we would lease together and drive while I was in training. With the Lease/Purchase in both of our names, I felt a proud sense of accomplishment to say that I was an owner of a semi truck.

I had to push out an accelerated driving program of four weeks schooling/training, condensed into ten days, before I could drive. It was intense. I dreaded the remote possibility of failing. I wanted to achieve my license, and be able to drive. By the second day of school, we set out to drive on the road. No driving in circles in the school's parking lot for us. Our small class of seven students created a nicer atmosphere, and more of an individualized training experience. There were only a handful of instructors to teach us.

Everyone in my class endured the obstacles of driving school and passing the road tests. We eventually set out in different directions in separate trucks for 28 days with our own trainers.

I had to wait for Rob to come back through the terminal in Iowa to pick me and my belongings up, to begin a different life; that of a long-haul truck driver.

Driving with Rob only lasted about two weeks. I woke in the middle of the night, after we returned to the terminal in Iowa, to find him clearing his belongings out of our truck. He had no intention of telling the company or me about his plan to leave. I was left standing there at the terminal, as he drove away in his packed car.

To add insult to being alone and an emotional wreck, my cell phone was running out of minutes for talk time. I called Joe, my best friend, back home in Wisconsin. He has driven semi truck about 15 years. He tried to help me achieve a CDL through a former trucking company he was employed by, about a year and a half ago. It had fallen through. He had driven me back to the terminal to meet up with Rob at the end of our home time. Prior to his departure for home, only 12 hours before Rob had made the decision to ditch me, Joe mentioned briefly to me about submitting his driving application to the company I worked for.

I managed to pull myself together, with Joe's help, and notified the after hours dispatcher of my dilemma, and Joe's application. My only option was to wait until the dayshift personnel came in, to help rectify my situation. The hours in between weren't easy for me. My emotions running over, questions without answers pounding my head, and feeling totally alone, I tried hard to wait patiently.

That morning seemed to bring some solace to my chaos, as well as relief to my frayed emotions. Joe had returned to Iowa in a flash.

Joe and I spent the next few days together while he went through the company's orientation and Department of Transportation (DOT) physical. We had both been burning the candle at both ends, hadn't eaten very well, and were revved up on Mountain Dew and coffee with sugar. These factors combined had almost hindered passing his physical. It elevated his blood sugar level too high. Stress was compounding the situation. I pulled from my nursing knowledge to try and help flush his system with water and lower his sugar with a couple sandwiches. The outcome positive, we were both able to breathe a little sigh of relief. We were going to be able to team together.

We had to go with separate trainers before this could actually happen. Joe teamed up with a driver named Juan, and I was placed with a driver named Candie.

I wondered what it would be like for two ladies to be teamed in a truck, but I never thought I'd find out first-hand. Feeling a bit uneasy about someone else that I didn't know, I knew that I had to do this to make it to my goal of being teamed together with Joe. I also needed to gain some driving miles and experience, not to mention a paycheck.

I relaxed quite quickly after heading out on the road with Candie. She and I got along quite well, and she made me feel quite at home in her truck (that was her home). Candie shared as much of the knowledge she carries from her four year driving career with me. Though our personal lifestyles are different, we hold a high respect and regard for each other to this day and forever more. I promised never to lose touch with her. She's my "Flashy-Trashy, Never Home" friend. She showed me, in a subtle, respectful way, her lifestyle in a semi truck and on the CB radio, and always looked out for me, as I for her (like a big sister/little sister relationship).

On a stop in York, Nebraska, I got the sincere pleasure of meeting one of Candie's "trucker" friends, named Brian. He drove a beautiful Kenworth and hauled furniture. We ate breakfast with him, and had a wonderful conversation that lasted longer than Candie had initially set aside time for. I enjoyed his company and the laughs we all shared. He seemed genuinely interested in helping to guide me, answer questions, and share experiences he's encountered in the truck driving world. His handle is "Slow Poke". He was so easy to talk with, and very interesting to listen to. I tried to soak up anything and everything he and Candie taught me. He let me lead the way out of the truck stop, as it was my time to drive and Candie to get a break. He complimented me, over the CB, on the way I handled Candie's truck. It was a bit sad leaving, as I didn't know if I'd ever have a chance to meet up with him out on the road again.

Our road travels were interrupted for driving together, a few short days after departing from Iowa. As I was starting a steep drive up Donner Pass in California, in the early morning hours toward our drop, her truck broke down with engine problems. We ended up being towed 90 miles to Sacramento, California, unable to complete our run. We spent our two weeks teamed together in a motel.

Candie had met up with a flatbed owner, named David, on the CB. He had kept her company for miles before our breakdown. Candie was very ill with a bronchial-type of cough, and her heavy smoking, didn't help. David stopped through on a couple of runs in our area, to check on our welfare and Candie's health. He graciously gave us a ride in his truck for supplies for our motel stay, took us out to eat, and walked to stores with us to window shop. He had also taken us with him to help tarp/strap his flatbed load, to prevent us from going stir crazy.

I had the option to get on another truck to drive and make a paycheck, but I had no intention of leaving Candie and her truck. It's not what being teamed together is supposed to be about. She'd have understood if I'd have made that decision, but I hadn't even considered the option.

An unexpected surprise for Candie and I, was that her friend, Brian, got the chance to pass through Sacremento on a load he was hauling. It was wonderful to see him. He was exhausted from his push for time. He offered his gracious generosity of a ride in his Kenworth to a wonderful Italian restaurant to have supper with us before he had to depart. It was great to see him again. He checked in with Candie from time to time after he left, on her cell phone, making sure we were still doing ok while her truck was broken down.

Her truck repaired, we headed back to Iowa, to meet up with Joe. Our time of being teamed together was coming to a close. Joe and I had supper with Candie and bid our farewells. As quietly as she appeared, to pick me up for the first time, she drove away, continuing on with her load to deliver and then spend some home time with her children and grandchildren in Virginia.

Joe and I waited for our truck to be set up at the terminal in Iowa. This turned into a five day motel stay, across the street, before we were able to set out on our first load to run as a team. Things were becoming increasingly frustrating, with the added wait, at this point.

Since that time, we've had three semi tractors break down within two months (two within a week of each other). One break down, in Cheyenne, Wyoming, caused us a layover for a day for repair, resulting in our picking up a different tractor to use. That tractor ended up breaking down in Asheville, North Carolina, where we were laid over for four days.

You'll find me as NightWhisper, out on the radio, which I came up with from working night shift as an RN. You try to pass through in the halls like a whisper, in hopes not to wake sleeping patients. It also applies to how it seems when you drive at night. I was christened Short Stack, while out on the road with Candie. It came to me while looking at a breakfast menu. Kind of fits the description of myself, a petite 4'10" stature driving a semi truck. Candie, Brian, and David still greet me as such when I talk to them on the phone.

This is a compilation of my first three and a half months of work, struggling to be a truck driver. I seem to have sat out of a truck, more than in, and sometimes get very disheartened as to whether or not I may ever get the chance for more consistent driving experience. This may not be a normal for most people. This is just my personal experience. Something inside of me doesn't allow quitting or giving up. I just keep pushing on to the next driving adventure that awaits me.

(Sometimes, its the setbacks that force us to reach deeper than we'd ever thought possible, to overcome and become stronger within ourselves, for ourselves).