After leaving A & H transport, I just gypsy'd around for a while, not really having any idea as to what to do next, when I found myself broke again and out of a job in Edmonton, Alberta. Not having any traveling money I headed over to Trans Canada Highway Express hoping to catch a ride back east to search for a job.

One owner/operator in particular had 5 complete outfits (tractors & trailers) but only had 4 drivers. His name was Chuck Dorland, and I was directed over to talk to him. I told him what I had in mind about job hunting back east, and looking for a ride. He gave me a set of keys to an old Hayes cab over, and told me to hook up to a particular trailer and back it into the dock, while he set up a ride for me. OK, I'll do it for you. I got the old girl going, hooked up and proceeded to back it in. The dock and yard were one weird place, there was only one open space and to jockey into it took two men, myself and another standing out in front of the truck to direct the jackknifing into the spot. The approach was less space than the length of the rig. I had to jackknife back and forth watching my guide so as not to hit the trucks beside me on my blind side. Jockeying back and forth about 10/12 times, I finally squeezed in, without scratching any paint, and a thumbs up from my guide. Even in the cool weather, I was sweating up a storm, soaked from cranking the manual standard steering. No power on anything in the 1950's.

Unbeknownst to me, Chuck was watching all this trucking from the sideline. When I asked if a ride was secured, he said definitely, keep the keys, finish loading and you are on your way. OK who is the driver I'm going with? You are. You're working for me now. There are not too many drivers around that can get the trailer in here without damage. One of us usually has to spot it for outside drivers. You have been tested, now finish loading. OK and thanks, I said.

Great, now what is the procedure here? Chuck explained that we do all our own loading. First you go into town and pick up your base load. Usually around 10,000 lbs. Then return here for the balance of the load. LTL off the dock and that is picking and choosing   the gravy rates. LTL portion is where the real money is. You will never leave without a minimum of 5 to 6, 000 dollars. (One way) NOTE ... At that time diesel fuel was about 23 cents an imperial gallon, almost 5 litres, or 5 American quarts.

I was now getting into the swing of things. Loading by hand, stacking freight so as not to damage. (You did it right or had to pay your own claims. No such things as palettes) It usually took 2 days to get the load on with all the picking and choosing. Your call to load was posted on the board. First in, first up, unless someone ahead of you booked off. If he returned before your loading, he was still ahead of you. No questions asked. You may have to sit 2 or 3 days waiting your turn. Usually you checked before noon and then spent the rest of the day drinking in the hotel lounge. (And we all know what happens there. You truck more miles in the bar than on the road.)

Christmas was only a trip away. (You average 2 rounds a month at between 5, 000 to 6,000 miles a trip.) Chuck was looking for someone to run a trip over Christmas and wasn't having much luck. All his drivers were married and said no way. I was then approached and asked. I said why? Well it is a government hot load. I had no ties with anyone, family or friends. I said that I would do it for him with one condition. What is it? He asked. I will run the load with the condition that where ever I was on New Years Eve that I would park the truck for 30 hours. Why? I give you Christmas; you give me my New Years drunken party. I want to park in the afternoon, get a room, party at night and have at least 12 hours to recoup. Chuck agreed and said OK, you have a deal.

It was Christmas Eve, about 4:30 pm when we all finished up loading. 5 of us all headed over to the hotel for some Christmas cheer. The other driver's wives had been shopping and finally met us for drinks. We all sat around toasting the season as well as anything else we could think of.

It was about 7:00 pm that we broke up and left the hotel. Wishing all the best to each other, we separated and went our own ways. The others went home or to a friends place, while I climbed into the truck and headed for Toronto.

I didn't even realize that I had not eaten since breakfast. I thought that once I got out of town and about an hour down the road, I would pull into a restaurant and have a good meal. No such luck, everything was closed and all I could do was to keep going. By now it was well after dark and the temperature was well below the -20 below F. It was an old 220 Cummins and a ten speed Roadranger. There was no winter front or automatic fan. The fan ran constant and the temperature inside wasn't much better than outside, the heater wasn't putting out much more than a lukewarm draft. I headed to Loydminster, hoping that the Husky Truck Stop was open. On the old road it was about a 4 hour run. By 10:00 pm I could not stay awake. I was really getting hungry now. I pulled over and remembered that Chuck gave us a bottle of whisky for Christmas. I dug into my bag and pulled it out. I had no mix, or anything else, so I took 3 good slugs straight, and then hit the bunk.

Even with the engine turning up 1200 RPM, there was no heat. I awoke almost freezing. I had to scrape the frost off the inside of the windshield to see out. Hungry as hell with no food, I took a couple more good slugs of whisky. (Trying to warm up) I finally got rolling again and took about an hour to make it into the Husky. I arrived to read a sign on the locked door that they were closed for Christmas. After a few minutes of swearing along with a couple more slugs of rye, I pulled out and motored on again. It was just breaking light on Christmas morning.

It was hours and hours, it seemed that there was not a living soul left on the planet. I made my way down to Saskatoon. Driving around town in a tractor trailer really is not the thing to be doing. Discouraged, there was nothing open, not even a gas station. I headed out of town after a couple wasted hours, pulled over for an hours sleep, tying to ward off the hunger pains. A couple more swigs and into the bunk. It was hard to believe, that as good a whisky man that I was, I was now getting sick of the stuff. There were only a couple ounces left, so I threw the part bottle away. I had enough. I want food.

My next stop would be Regina, Saskatchewan. The Husky there never closes. I will be able to fuel & eat. It was about 6:00 pm Christmas night that I pulled in to the Husky Truck Stop. I went directly to the pumps and fuelled up, and dumped some methyl hydrate in with the fuel. It was expected to be way below zero this night, and on the prairies there is no wind block. I parked, went inside, paid my bill, and then headed into the restaurant. The door was locked and lights out. What the hell is going on here? The fuel attendant said they were closed because they could not get anyone to work. It was the first time since opening that the restaurant was closed. He said that the cook did up a big hock of ham and some fresh loaves of bread for any driver looking for a meal. I went to the table and saw the biggest bare ham bone I had ever seen, along with a small piece of crust from the bread, and it was dried out. I could have cried. It is now 35 hours since eating breakfast the day before.

What now? I suddenly remembered that a driver that I used to run with had a son that I new fairly well. He was supposed to have moved to Regina about a year ago to get away from his family & relatives. I took to the city phone book on a slim chance of finding him. I hit the jackpot, and called Dave D. He was home and had his friends in for Christmas dinner. I apologized for the interruption, but was wondering if I could grab a taxi and pick up a sandwich or something, and that I was passing through and no food was available anywhere. I was told to stay put and wait. In 15 minutes Dave pulled up and told me to get in the car. He then whisked me to his house and brought me in. I really felt out of place, being filthy dirty and in work cloths, while everyone was dressed semi formal. Nothing would have it, but I was dragged to the table (it did not take that much to drag me) and was waited on hand and foot by all the ladies, while the men brought me drinks. (Milk, coffee and water) I turned down the whisky, as I'd had enough of that stuff for quite a while.

The feast went on for about an hour, and I had to get going. Dave and his wife tried to get me to stay over but that was impossible with this load. Dave drove me back to the truck, wished me luck and I was on my way. I ate so much that I thought that I would explode. I went from one extreme to another, from starvation to bloatation.

It was about a 3 - 4 hour run to Moosomin, Saskatchewan, where my next usual rest stop was, a restaurant that 2 ladies owned and were open 24 hours.  The traffic was totally dead and I was alone on the road. I pulled onto the property and like everywhere else, was closed. I was still full from the feast, but was looking forward to a coffee. The temperature was way below zero and the inside of the cab didn't feel much warmer. I got out and walked around the truck kicking the tires. The front door opened and the old girls called me inside. The only lights were the massive Christmas tree that almost flooded the place. They set down a coffee and said that they were just open to any trucker passing through, knowing that Regina's restaurant was closed. They immediately started bringing out a full coarse turkey diner, free. I was already still full, but after the way they offered to stay for any truckers, I ate for the second time in 4 hours. And I mean ate, having a real hard time getting it down, finally passing on the Christmas pudding. Man talk about being full. I just did not have the heart to turn it down after all the trouble they went through to look after the drivers. Apparently I was the first one, in the past 6 hours.

After practically crawling out on my hands and knees, we wished each other season's greetings, and I drove away thinking that there really is a Santa Claus. Just before the edge of town was the scale shack (closed) I just couldn't cut it anymore. I pulled in and slept like a log.

A few hours went by and I carried on down the road. By daylight (Boxing Day) all the usual stops were open again, and I was getting back into the swing of things. From there all the way to Toronto it was one continuous blizzard.

I made Toronto on time, unloaded and went straight to the hotel to get a room and a shower, along with some well deserved sleep time. In the meantime Chuck Dorland had called Toronto and had set up a return load. I was back at it the next morning. They had brought my base load into the warehouse. I loaded it on and topped off with LTL, all in the same day. I was on my way by noon. It was a real treat.

I headed out of town about 60 miles and slept until after dark. I got up and ran all night to Cochran, Ontario, fuelled up ate and took off again. I ran steady for the next 9 hours arriving at Beardmore, Ontario around 6:00 pm. on New Years Eve.

NOTE; There were no log books in Canada at that time. You ran till you could not go another mile, flake out for a few hours then at it again.

You could pass through town from one end to the other in about 4 minutes, but they did have a hotel, and served beer. This is where I took my end of the bargain, and parked the truck for the next 24 to 30 hours.

After cleaning up, I went downstairs, ate and then headed into the bar. It was about 8:00 pm and the place was jumping already. A whole herd of lumber jacks came in from the bush camps with their girlfriends, or someone else's. It did not seem to matter. The party was a roaring success. The doors were closed officially at 11:00 pm but they hung in there till after midnight and the New Year. Finally getting thrown out, the crowd broke up and headed to various houses to carry on with the party. I ended up with a group that was only a couple doors away from the hotel. I ate, drank and partied till dawn. I crawled back to my hotel room where I lay till after supper, before being able to move under my own power again. The party stop was a complete success, except for the 2 day migraine that I just could not shake off.

I made it back to Edmonton in one piece, and everything was fine except for one idiot in management who told me that I could have been here a day earlier, and wanted to know why. I promptly gave him the bullshit sign and walked away, saying Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you to fella .

 -------------------- William (Diesel Gypsy) Weatherstone              RETURN TO STORY MENU