This is an article that was produced for Labor Day by a Missouri reporter. The reporter's intent was to showcase one of the most difficult jobs in our national economy. It is a long read, but extremely telling. Enjoy:
4:36 a.m. — I arrived at the St. Anne offices of Hoekstra Transportation. My driving partner for the day, Steve Collins, was already there. His truck was in the shop being prepped for the day. A 43-year veteran behind the wheel, he wasn't flustered by the idea of a ride-along reporter.
5:00 — Steve backed his truck under a loaded trailer in the yard. He showed me the procedure for safely hooking up. We were hauling a truckload of snacks that came in from Wisconsin overnight. We were going to drop this trailer at a distribution center near Indianapolis and pick up an empty trailer there.
5:45 — The cruise control was set at 64 mph, and Steve was explaining the challenge of navigating a rig, 13 feet, 6 inches tall, 75 feet long and 8 feet, 6 inches wide. This 2015 Peterbilt sleeper-style tractor became his business office, bedroom and living room in May. So far, he's put 33,000 miles on the odometer.
"That's not much, really," he said. "I've had some time off with knee surgery. I won't get to 100,000 miles this year, but I used to get there."
Meanwhile, he worked effortlessly with the 10-speed transmission. This truck can haul up to 80,000 pounds, but our load of pretzels and chips weren't taxing this truck's powerful diesel engine.
6:30 — We stopped at a truck stop for coffee. Steve denied that all truckers know the best places to eat. In fact, he noted his wife, Charlene, packs a lot of his meals. "It's cheaper and healthier," he said. "And next week we're going on Weight Watchers together."
He sleeps more nights in the back of his cab than in his bed at home, but he noted he feels very close to his wife. "I think because he's away so much, when he is home, we do a lot together," she said in a cellphone interview from the truck.
"It takes a special passion to be a truck driver, and I think maybe I was made to be a trucker's wife," she said. She seemed to choke on the words a little as she talked of all the birthday parties and other events that he's missed through the years.
"You learn to roll with it," she said. "I know he loves his work. He still whistles on his way out to the truck. So we learned how to make it work."
7:00 — Steve offered some insights on driving. He dislikes dark-tinted windows on cars. He likes to keep track of other drivers by assessing their body language, he said. He recalled some of his bad days. The story of a dog that ran out in front of his truck seemed to include more detail than an accident that left him in the hospital.
Note: The radio isn't on. I haven't heard "Eastbound and Down" from "Smokey and the Bandit" movies or "Six Days on the Road, and I'm Gonna Make it Home Tonight." I'm disappointed. Steve also noted that CBs aren't as popular these days. But he has a handle. It's "Gearjam."
7: 40 — We covered the topic of truckers' regulations. He showed me the computer log system. It seems like the effort to get overly tired drivers off the road has led to overcrowded truck stop lots. That's why you see big rigs parked on the ramps to rest areas. There just weren't enough places to park all the trucks that have to get off the road.
8:15 — We arrive at the new terminal, and Steve talks to another trucker on the lot. It was Steve's first visit to this location, and he doesn't know where to go inside to find out where this load should be parked. A harried worker on a forklift eventually gives him a dock number. He does a flawless job of backing the trailer into the designated spot, and we pick up the empty trailer.
Before we left that location, I took the broom to sweep out the trailer. This business demands more cleanliness than I expected.
9:20 — Steve points out how much technology has improved trucks. "You don't see that haze over the interstates," he said. "They tell us the pollution control systems are so good on these trucks that the air that comes out of the exhaust is cleaner than the air that went into the engine.
"And it used to be good to get 200,000 or 300,000 miles out of an engine," he added. "This truck ... they expect it to go a million and a half or 2 million miles. Isn't that something?"
Note: The new, cleaner exhaust systems don't require the big chrome stacks that used to pour out that black smoke. But these trucks still have the air horns. "They're not that loud anymore and kids don't do that thing to get drivers to blow the horn. Some still do. I always blow it for them."
9:45 — We left the second warehouse, this one in Crawfordsville. We're hauling more groceries now and headed back toward Indy. "The Hoekstras have a nice niche, hauling a lot of groceries and some appliances," Steve said. "They have a good reputation, too. Good equipment. On-time deliveries."
10:30 — Steve explained how he got into the business. After a year and 10 days in Vietnam, he came home and enrolled in a truck driving school. He graduated and applied for a job hauling grain. He knew he found his personal niche.
11:40 — I think we went to Lebanon next, but I was starting to lose track. I just remember that a bridge failure on Interstate 65 has really disrupted traffic in this area. Road construction issues don't seem to bother Steve. He reserves his frustration for fog, snow and flat tires. He has some Zen-like qualities for enduring traffic jams.
We also took a minute to grab a bite as we left one of the terminals. Steve bought my slice of pizza, and we headed back to the truck. I think he builds up points at these truck stops, and you can trade the points for showers.
12:30 p.m. — We were headed for another ConAgra warehouse. And I was thinking it takes a lot of coordinated effort to get the food from manufacturers to these distribution centers and into grocery stores. Steve noted his schedule for the next day would take him to a Kellogg's factory in Michigan and back to a distribution center in Minooka. Apparently, the breakfast we're going to eat in a couple of weeks is already in a trailer today.
2:10 — We were on our way to another terminal, near Frankfort, Ind., when Steve got to the tough answers. ... "Yes, there are still some prostitutes who work the rest stops," he said. "They call them 'lot lizards.' I've had them knock on my window. I don't bother talking. I just open the curtain to see who it is and then shut the curtain."
"Yes, they still sell that five-hour energy and some kind of pills, but all I need is coffee," he said.
2:45 — Our load isn't ready for pick up. Instead of waiting another two hours, Steve gets the word from St. Anne to just pick up another empty trailer and head back.
4:00 — The I-65 detours sent us down a dozen little roads in rural Indiana. That offered Steve more time to extol the virtues of his truck. "There are six different computers that control this engine," he said. "They got this down so good, you don't change the oil but every 35,000 miles. And then you don't just recycle it, you send it in to a lab and they can tell more about what's going on inside the engine."
6:02 — We rolled into the lot. Steve had a trailer to clean out. Maybe he was going to refill the truck's 200-gallon fuel tank and make plans for the next day. Maybe he was going to check out what Charlene sent for dinner.
We traveled less than 500 miles, but I was beat. I asked to be dropped off at my puny little pickup.
And I drove home feeling a little wimpy.
