I THOUGHT I WANTED TO become a truck driver.

I was wrong.

After working 27 years for one employer in the financial services industry, I was burned out and ready for a change. Less than one month after turning 50, I gave my notice and started planning a new career as a professional over the road (OTR) semi-truck driver.

Mind you, I have zero experience driving a big rig. My only remotely related experience to date (and this is quite a stretch) was spending a couple days operating a large tractor on my uncle’s farm as a teenager, spreading liquid hog manure on a hayfield. Nonetheless, I was sure this is what I wanted to do.

Why Trucking?

I’ve always been fascinated with transportation and logistics—especially the “big toys” of semi-trucks, trains, and planes. I think this stems from living my earliest years on a farm in the Midwest.

Trucking also runs in the family. I have an uncle and two cousins involved in long haul OTR trucking. (They can tell some entertaining, if not downright frightening, stories!) One of my cousins owns and manages his own trucking company with a fleet of a dozen trucks. And, though my father did not drive trucks professionally, he often drove trucks in the late ’60s and early ’70s while serving in the Air Force.

Another motivating force was an “empty nest” for my wife and me, as the youngest of our three children started college in August. Life was starting to feel rather dull (midlife crisis, anyone?), and I wanted a new adventure.

The open road and its allure of freedom were calling my name.

Besides, I told myself, I had very little risk in giving this a try. My previous company provided generous retirement plan contributions throughout my career. After 27 years, these contributions had grown substantially, and we could always tap into these assets if necessary. I had nothing to lose.

The Plan: TMC Transportation

As I researched how to get started in the trucking industry and potential companies to work for, one company kept rising to the top of my short list: TMC Transportation.

To get into trucking, I had two requirements:

1. Drive for someone else. I have no desire to own my own equipment or incur the expenses that come with owning a truck.
2. Get training sponsored by someone else. I didn’t want to attend a truck driving school on my dime. I wanted to first connect with a company and get trained directly by them, or at the very least have them pay for my training.

TMC met both criteria. They offer an intense, 19-day training program that will train someone—with zero experience—how to be a truck driver. (They even cover lodging and two meals a day throughout training.) After this three-week training program, the new trainee is paired with an experienced driver for four weeks to receive one-on-one training on the road. All TMC asks in return is to commit to working for them for at least one year.

My research also confirmed TMC is a well-known, reputable, and highly regarded carrier in the industry. According to its website, TMC Transportation is the largest privately-held flatbed carrier in the nation. In addition to being the biggest, TMC also considers itself to be the best:

As the industry’s premier flatbed carrier, TMC is known for its integrity, innovation, highly-trained drivers, impeccably maintained late-model equipment, superior safety and claim-free delivery record and unwavering dedication to quality and customer service.

I completely agree. I have only respect and admiration for this company, its success, and its longevity. All of my interactions were positive and professional.

My three-week training program would begin Mon., Sept. 18. I was nervous, but also excited to learn a new skill and see what adventures lie ahead.

The Moment of Truth

The first day was long—roughly 12 hours—and challenging at times. All trainees had to go through an agility test, which included lifting a 100-lb. lumber tarp five feet (from the ground onto a flatbed trailer deck). A few of the trainees made this look effortless. I struggled with it, but I did it without any help and passed the test on my only try.

My proudest moment was passing the basic math test with 100% accuracy. I was finally in my element!

Late in the afternoon, however, reality set in.

I realized I would never be happy spending so much time away from home by myself. It’s just not who I am. This moment of truth hit me like a ton of bricks. I really thought I had talked myself into this, but apparently I never closed the deal.

Upon finishing the first day of training, I rode the shuttle back to the hotel and agonized over my impending decision. Should I stick it out and continue with the program, or simply cut bait and return home?

My wife told me to give it a couple more days. I told myself to give it a couple more days. I was almost ready to do this, but I knew deep down I would still come to the same conclusion: I would never be happy on the road, week after week, by myself. Knowing this, I didn’t want to waste the company’s time and resources by continuing in training, only to back out after a week. Better to leave now so the trainers could focus their time and energy on the remaining students.

Tuesday morning I sent an apologetic email note to the training director and my recruiter, explaining why I wouldn’t be continuing in the program or pursuing employment. Once the shuttle left the hotel with the other students, I packed up, checked out, and started for home. I never did set foot in a truck.

To be clear, this decision was solely mine. TMC did not fail me or mislead me in any way; on the contrary, I failed TMC.

What did I learn?

1) I really like the idea of being a truck driver. Even as I write this, part of me regrets not sticking with it. Actually being a truck driver is much more than an idea, however. Being a truck driver takes hard work and sacrifice. I wasn’t able to get beyond the idea and imagination phase.

2) No, really—trucking is hard work. I knew this conceptually, but researching the industry really opened my eyes to the challenges drivers face. Working conditions can be downright dreadful and depressing. Many drivers can recount situations when they arrived at a shipper or destination at or before their scheduled time—only to wait several hours before getting loaded or unloaded.

In my estimation, driving a rig down the highway is probably one of the easier parts of the job. It’s the other baggage—navigating tight loading docks, fighting for limited overnight parking spots, and being away from family for a week (or more)—that makes this career so difficult.

We take for granted the goods we want to buy will magically appear on store shelves when we want them—either physically (at your local Walmart or grocery store) or virtually (amazon.com). Few of us have any idea of the efforts and sacrifices of others necessary to keep the shelves stocked.

3) Trucking is highly regulated by the federal and state governments. I won’t dive into the policy decisions behind the numerous regulations. Regardless, all government regulations come with unintended consequences and inflate operating costs; trucking is not immune to these realities.

For example, generally speaking, a driver is allowed only 11 hours of driving time before being required to rest at least 10 hours off duty. Also, these 11 hours must take place within 14 consecutive hours of on duty (working) time (again, before 10 hours of rest is necessary to reset the driver’s 11-hour and 14-hour clocks). Sounds reasonable, right?

Here’s the catch—waiting to get loaded at the consignor (the party shipping the goods) or consignee (the party receiving the goods) is on duty time, which is completely out of the driver’s control.

Suppose a driver, with a loaded trailer, drives five hours to a delivery, waits two hours to be unloaded (while sitting and resting in the truck), drives one hour to the next pickup location, waits three hours to get loaded (again sitting and resting in the truck), then has another five-hour drive to the next delivery destination—which happens to be only a few miles from home.

The 11-hour clock is fine (5 + 1 + 5 = 11), but the 14-hour clock will expire after driving only three hours toward home (5 + 2 + 1 + 3 + 3 = 14). This effectively strands the driver two hours from home and forces the driver to rest 10 hours before any additional driving can be done.

Driver fatigue can lead to accidents. The desire to prevent these accidents is understandable and commendable, but these forced preventive measures are not free. These costs fall disproportionately on drivers, who are forced to make tremendous sacrifices to bear these regulatory costs.

The Road Ahead

I’m don’t know if I will ever become a truck driver. Part of me desperately wants to drive for a living; another part of me is relieved it’s not something I have to do.