For 20 years I drove tractor trailers throughout eastern Ontario and western Quebec, into lovely towns with lovely names like Cobden and Papineauville and Kazabazua. Later it became big chunks of Alberta where I would roll through Red Deer or down into Pincher Creek and Crowsnest Pass, or over to Banff and beyond.
It was delivering groceries to big and small stores and hotels from Ottawa and Calgary bases, often using rollers and more often simply hand bombing, and it was a very physical and demanding job, not to mention driving in snowstorms and other downright rotten weather that took a big toll on my mind, my knees, and my first marriage.
I don’t know how many times I’ve lost track of where I was on the highway because of blinding snow, or had to stop and wait out a white-out. A co-worker of mine even had his whole rig blown over by one of the extraordinary wind storms they get down by the Alberta-Montana border.
It was all very tiring and often way too stressful, and I decided I didn’t want to drive semi’s anymore.
But if I had to, if I was forced to, I’d want to deliver beer for Molsons with a big CH on the side of the trailer. If I’m going to be a truck driver, this is how I want it. It might even make me feel like I was part of the team.