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She Is A Truck Driver

I have a CDL. I went through truck diving school to drive an 18-wheeler. I spent very little time on the road, however, unlike some women who do this for a living.

Driving is hard enough on men, so can sometime prove even more difficult for women who are often smaller in frame and height. Too often we forget that women do this for a living. Yes, they choose it, and are quite often wonderful at it.

Truck driving gives one a sense of freedom to some extent. Just drive the truck, get where you’re going, and no one heckles you (or so you hope!). You don’t have to stay in the same area as your boss either which is great. But, there are downsides too. Bad weather, for one. It’s not safe often for ladies to be on the road alone. Traffic…because car driver DO NOT know how to drive around trucks. And I mean, none of you. You think trucks are like cars, SUVs or pickup trucks, but that’s absolutely not true. I once wrote a MySpace blog about how to…or not to…drive around trucks. I think I shall write a WordPress blog about that too so I can education my wonderful readers on driving around trucks. I’m sure you’ll go…”I had no idea”…at least once.

But in the meantime, I’d like to leave you with this. And I hope you’ll think about it a bit. Maybe, it might even encourage some of the ladies to look at driving a rig as a career. The author of this is unknown so far.

SHE IS A TRUCK DRIVER

She’s a big girl, she’s a small girl.
She comes in all sizes and shapes: short, tall, skinny and fat.
Laughing and serious, happy and sad.
She’s transportation with a grin on her face; distribution with a cocked left eyebrow.
She’s progress with diesel fumes in her hair. She makes her living holding 10 tons of steel in her hands. She has highways in her eyes. She’s a truck driver.

She hauls milk for the nation’s babies, dresses for the nation’s ladies.
Steel for our country’s defense, and bread for the nation’s breakfast tables.
She likes straight highways, slot machines that payoff, friendly cops and bonus checks.
The road’s her home. She drives today so the world can live tomorrow.
Laughing, she’s tough enough to hold her cargo against a hurricane, and gentle enough to stop 10 tons of wheeled steel to let a 12 ounce kitten cross the road.

She can tell you where to get the best piece of apple pie on the highway, and where the radar traps are, and which road to take to make the fastest time.
She hates, in the order named, phonies, road-hogs, tough traffic cops, highway weigh stations, small town justices of the peace, steep hills, cackling cargo, and a weak coffee.
She’s America on wheels. She’s big business with a road map in her pocket. She’s a truck driver.

Without her, there would be no gasoline to run the nation’s automobiles, no steel to make the machines, no concrete to build the highways, no merchandise to spin the wheels of trade.
She has eyes that look over mountains; she likes to see the other side of hills.
She eats better than bankers, dresses like a Texas rancher, is more independent than a newly elected senator. She’s an authority on politics, highway construction, baseball, and the best way to run a trucking company.

She likes the feel of the night wind on her face and the sound of a purring motor.
She lives by the code of the road and passes no man by who needs a helping hand.
She’s got problems and is not bashful in airing complaints about the state of the world at large.

Every trip she threatens to get off the road and live like other women, but she never does. The highway is a flirting Lorelei who hums a haunting tune for the women who chase the horizon on spinning wheels. And when the tires sing, the road is straight, and the moon is bright on a ribbon of cross country highway, she’s the happiest, most useful woman in America. She’s a truck driver.

-Author unknown

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