What's It Like to Be a Trucker?

#3 keeps Don company as he shines our truck rims 

One of the questions that we hear frequently from friends, family, and people that we meet is, "What's it like to be a trucker?" Some people are amazed that a normal, educated young couple like ourselves would be trucker drivers; a lot of people still stereotype truckers as old, nasty, stinky, and perverted. Other people are surprised that a woman can drive, that a couple can drive as a team, or that we would even want to drive a semi.

So what's it like to be a trucker?

It's hours and hours of sitting in a not-overly-comfortable seat behind a steering wheel, staring out a window at traffic and scenery.

It's a hundred thoughts and decisions running through your head at once, watching traffic - both nearby and farther out - trying to predict what the drivers of vehicles around you will do. It's slamming on your brakes because a car just cut you off and slowed down in front of you. It's knowing that you can't stop 80,000 pounds fast enough to prevent hitting a minivan that just changed lanes in front of you, traveling 35 mph to your 65 mph, and the lives of the kids in their backseat flash before your eyes.

Miles of desert 

It's watching the miles of roadway slip away, the trees or rocks or desert or fields all blending and blurring together outside your windows. It's watching a sunrise or sunset, admiring the way the sunlight reflects on the clouds, and wondering where your loved ones are and whether they're too busy for a phone call. It's talking on the phone with someone you care about, only to lose reception and drop the call.

It's traveling, seeing the country in snapshots from the interstates, passing by national monuments and natural wonders. It's the traffic congestion around big cities as thousands of people push their way forward in a self-centered mayhem of honking horns and angry voices. It's breathing more freely once you're out of the narrow city streets and back on the open road. It's a little kid asking you to blow your air horn, and the giant smile on their face when you do.

It's waiting for a late load, waiting for directions from someone five hundred miles away, waiting for a tire to be changed, and falling asleep waiting for the phone call assigning your next load. It's people with no concept of what your job entails trying to tell you how to do your job. For us as a team, it's living with your spouse in a space the size of a walk-in closet, working and communicating and sharing - and yes, sometimes squabbling - but always loving.

A recent load allowed us a quick visit with my parents

It's going home for a few days and realizing how much you need to get done in a short period of time. It's trying to explain to doctor's offices and realtors and family members that you're only home once a month, it's the only time you're available, it's really nothing personal. It's people that you love and miss asking when they will see you again. It's passing through the hometown of people that you care about and not telling them, because you're on a deadline with no time to stop and visit. It's missing out on birthday parties and family events and feeling like life is passing you by.

It's not forever, at least not for us. I keep telling myself it's not permanent. It has its ups and downs, its pros and cons, but it's not a bad life. I will forever be grateful for these years we spent together on the road, getting to know each other and ourselves as the miles pass. Someday we will be settled down and it will all be a memory. Someday my Pinterest boards full of chicken coop blueprints, casserole recipes, and parenting articles will come in handy. Someday the photographs of bucolic pasture scenes and mischievous children will be ours. But until then, I will be thankful for the time spent with my sweetheart, working toward our goals, seeing sights we may never see again. This is so much bigger than simply driving a big truck. This is what it means to me to be a trucker.

Time

Could I the fleeting moments grasp,
And hold them as a string of pearls -
To lay them forever in your clasp,
I would travel 'round the world.

Or could I catch each passing hour,
Golden as a grain of sand;
And were all time within my power,
I would place it in your hand.

Alas, I cannot make them stay -
But cherish each as past they fly.
Every moment of every day,
I'm glad that you are mine.

2016 Rebekah Davis, all rights reserved

Happy Birthday, My Love

It's my sweetheart's birthday today and I thought it was only fitting that I share a little bit of our story. It's amazing to look back and see how far we've come, and I can't wait to see where the future leads!

When we first started out together, we spent two months living in a tent, in the primitive area of a local campground, with no electricity or running water - and yet we had never been happier, because we had each other. We got an apartment together and furnished it mainly with things given to us and thrift store purchases. Over time, we made it our own and we enjoyed our little nest. We got married, we grew together; jobs and schedules came and went but our relationship was the anchor, the constant in an ever-changing world. Then we decided to go on the road for awhile, to pay off debts and save money for the house and lifestyle that we want in the future. And here we are, a year later, driving across the country and happy just being together.

I love you more today than yesterday. I love you with all my heart and everything in me. I love you for ever and for always, and always will. I love you.