Owner Driver - - News -

Well, I’ve made a big de­ci­sion. Thirty-three years I’ve been in­volved in trans­port and I’ve de­cided to walk away from it. Twenty five years as a driver – lo­cal/coun­try / in­ter­state fin­ished.

Some may ask why. Some may not give a shit.

On Jan­uary 16 last year, I lost my licence for six months due to de­mer­its. In that time I’ve sat back and had time to think about things.

I en­joy my time with my fam­ily and have time to talk to my two daugh­ters. Try­ing to make up for the things I’ve missed out on when they were kids grow­ing up and I was away in the driver’s seat.

Times when I was away for days run­ning back­wards and for­wards try­ing to earn a dol­lar to sup­port my fam­ily that I barely saw.

When I went to work, my kids were in bed asleep. When I got home, they were in bed asleep. I’ve missed a lot of stuff.

And I’m sick of be­ing treated au­to­mat­i­cally like a crim­i­nal when I’m pulled over or in, just be­cause I drive a truck.

I’m sick of all the bull­shit reg­u­la­tions writ­ten by brain-dead pen­cil necks who’ve never had any­thing to do with the in­dus­try.

I’m sick of a book telling me when I’m tired and when I’m awake.

I’m sick of be­ing fined a week’s wages for a tiny er­ror in my work diary. I’m sick of be­ing treated like a sec­ond-class cit­i­zen by peo­ple be­cause I chose to do the job I love.

I’m sick of see­ing the broth­er­hood and the un­writ­ten rules of the road dis­ap­pear­ing be­fore my eyes.

I’m sick of try­ing to teach new guys, and get­ting the ‘yeah, yeah, yeah ... I know’ at­ti­tude.

I learned the job the old-school way, in a yard load­ing pans and flat tops. Gates, hang­ing cur­tains, dou­ble tarp­ing with a cap tarp.

Some of the guys these days would have trou­ble ty­ing their shoe laces, let alone a hitch knot.

When I was a kid many years ago, the big­gest rush I got was when a driver blew his horn to me do­ing the arm pump.

Then I be­came a truckie and thought that there was no bet­ter job in the world.

But the pol­ish has faded, the fun has gone out of it. Time for a change.

This job runs through my veins, and it’s not an easy de­ci­sion to make.

But if I don’t take the op­por­tu­nity to get out now, I never will.

I’m not really fussed if no­body reads this. Just see­ing it writ­ten down makes my de­ci­sion more of a re­al­ity. Name with­held by re­quest

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