Why do most motorists hate
truck drivers? Is it because their big
rigs are so intimidating? Or do we think
they’re all red-neck cowboys, living the life on the range and we’re secretly
jealous?
I respect truckers and
think, for the most part, they are much better drivers than the rest of
us. They have stiffer licensing
requirements, better safety monitoring and much more experience behind the
wheel. And unlike most of us driving
solo in our cars, they are driving truly “high occupancy (cargo) vehicles”… 22
tons when fully loaded.
For an inside look at the
unglamorous life of a trucker, I can highly recommend the new book “Long
Haul” by Greenwich native Finn
Murphy who’s been driving since he was 18 for the Joyce Moving Company.
Murphy is what truckers call
a “bedbugger” because he specializes in high-end corporate relocations. He’s at the top of the trucker food chain,
both in income and prestige, far ahead of car haulers (parking lot attendants),
animal haulers (chicken chokers) and even hazmat haulers (suicide jockeys).
While Murphy says a lot of
long haul truckers do the job because they can’t find any other work, his
career choice was an educated decision as his left Colby College before
graduation, realizing he could easily make $100,000 packing, moving and
unpacking executives’ possessions without a BA.
Forty million Americans move
each year and from this author’s perspective they all have too much stuff. They covet their capitalist consumption of
furniture and junk (what movers call chowder).
And it ain’t cheap to move it, averaging about $20,000 for a long
distance relocation. But as he sees it,
he’s more in the “lifestyle transition” business than simply hauling and is
sensitive to clients’ emotional state.
Murphy’s African American boss
nicknamed him “The Great White Mover” as, at age 59, he’s one of the last few
white drivers. Most of the industry is
now handled by people of color, especially the local crews that do the packing
and unpacking. When self-driving trucks
hit the road, thousands of minority drivers are going to be out of luck. Robots already do most of the loading and
unloading of trucked merchandise bound for big-box stores.
As an independent operator,
Murphy incurs all of the expenses. His
tractor (the detachable engine part of the truck) costs $125,000. That’s not counting the $3500 he pays to
register it or $10,000 to insure it. A
new tire (his rig has 18) costs $400 at a truck stop and maybe double that if
he’s stranded on some interstate.
The average rig isn’t just a
tractor hauling an empty trailer. Even
before loading, that trailer has hundreds of pads (each of which must be neatly
folded), plywood planks, dollies, tools, ramps and hundreds of rubber straps
for tying things down. Loading his truck
is like solving a giant Tretris 3D puzzle.
Murphy’s driving hours are
regulated and carefully logged, then checked at every inspection station. But he thinks nothing of driving 700 miles
per day, usually parking at a truck stop and sleeping in his on-board bunk equipped
with a high-end stereo and 600 count Egyptian cotton sheets.
On the road he listens to
audio books and NPR, which is probably how he learned to write so well (the
book is not ghost written). Finn Murphy
isn’t the brawniest of movers, but he’s easily among the smartest and most
articulate. Even if you have no
aspirations of life on the open road, you’ll enjoy this articulate author’s
prose.
Reposted with permission of Hearst CT Media
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