Back when I was eighteen my boyfriend asked me to move one of his trucks–an old B-model Mack with a twin stick–and when he said I did a pretty good job, I was hooked. My plan to go to college and study psychology went right out the window. Literally. And here I am, thirty five years later, and I am still trucking. At fifty two, I’ll have to say, I still get a bang out of the stares and the comments I still get every time I jump out of my truck. It amazes me how fascinated people still are over women driving these big rigs. The best part is watching the little kids eyes widened at a stop light. I wave and toot the horn and they go berserk. Well, I keep saying every year it’s my last, but I keep on trucking. In fact, I now have three dump trucks, and just this week I treated myself to a new Peterbilt. Well, not new-new. But a 2005 sure beats my ol ’94.
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