TRUCKERS PAGE
WELCOME TRUCKERS
Every year there are more and more women joining the ranks of truckers, hauling goods across the UK and Europe.
Surprisingly, this is one job in which there is little or no discrimination, as the high standard of skill required to drive these large vehicles is the same for either men or women so every trucker respects another for their driving skills.
Although the job is often long hours and entails hard work, those of us who do drive trucks for a living would never change our lives, and would certainly not swap a life on the road for one cooped up in an office or a factory.
We also keep our femininity and pride ourselves in keeping up appearances despite being behind the wheel of an artic in pouring rain or scraping snow and ice from the windshield!
We would love to hear your stories of life on the open road so feel free to send us some of your experiences so that we can include them in our ‘Life on the Road’ page.
'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 defence, 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, phoneys, 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 tyres sing, and 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
