Sunday 21 August 2011

The Game Commences

The first job can be daunting for most of us and it certainly was for me. So here is my experience in the hope that it will help others.

As many advise, take a deep breath and just get on with it: when you walk out of the yard at the end of that day (hopefully with the truck intact and the job completed) that's another milestone. And it wasn't that bad was it?

I passed my Cat C first time in January 2009 then immediately went into C+E training and test(s). Oh dear – test with an 's' on the end. But that's another story one day.

As a result of a number of factors, I didn't start looking for Cat C work so the new career went on hold until recently. My first Cat C job was made worse by the fact that I hadn't been in the cab of a truck since I failed my third C+E test in March 2009 (and at the time, never wanted to see the inside of one again!)

I have no choice now but to seek driving work so in addition to phoning the local haulage firms and mailing my CV, I registered with two agencies. Both indicated that emergency call-out would be the only likely way to start and the message was clear: keep your phone turned on. I did.

And for the first four weeks nothing happened, other than I got totally disillusioned of course. Chasing phone calls were met with the usual reality that there's not much Cat C work around at the best of times, let alone for a newbie. Of course if I had C+E there was any amount of it!!

I started to get some van work, but always on the day with less than an hour's notice (to drive to Scotland and back) and none of us like that. But it worked eventually.

One Wednesday, 12:00pm and the agency calls: am I available for an immediate Class 2 job to Nottingham and back with one drop? I felt sick at the thought but knew I had to do it so grabbed my bag (all pre-packed as it has been for the last number of weeks) with gloves, high-viz vest, TomTom, maps, tacho discs, tacho paper rolls, baby wipes, phone charger, mini mag-lite, pens, phone earpiece etc and set off for the client's depot 15 miles away.

This was a small industrial estate with a common security lodge and gate. The gateman asked me to park in the car park outside the gate and gave me directions to the client's area. All I had from the agency was a "Gate 3 and ask for Mike".

I found the company and Gate 3 and sitting very obviously where it shouldn't be was an urgent delivery in the form of a rather tired looking 02-plate Merc Atego 18t Curtainsider.



Uh-oh, I think they have slap-over boxes and I've only used a four-over-four. Inside the warehouse was a small office with three hair-net clad guys on the phone or peering at computer screens.

I introduced myself to one who pointed at "Mike", who turned out to be the Transport Manager in the middle of a difficult and seemingly very urgent phone call. Mike broke off from his call momentarily and asked one of the warehouse guys to direct me adding that it was all ready to go and full of fuel. Well that's two things I don't have to worry about I thought: loading the vehicle and fuelling it.

The warehouse guy took me to the Merc and said everything was ready; delivery notes were in the cab, keys were in. I was relieved to see that it didn't have a tail lift – another thing less to worry about – but I did check with him that the customer would have an FLT to unload me at the other end. He confirmed they would. Thinking about the return trip I also confirmed they were manned 24/7 (it was now 1:45pm) so I knew it would be into the evening by the time I got back. And with that he'd gone saying he'd phone the customer to say I was on my way.

I climbed in and had a look around. Oh dear, like a skip on wheels inside but what did I expect. Just wipe your feet when you get out! First things first, in goes the Digicard (a Siemens/VDO tacho but badged "Volvo" – I'd never seen one or been trained, just used the software simulator) so at least the meter is running so to speak while I sort myself out.

To my surprise (and relief) it has a straight-six gearbox. Well I never knew that but I do now (and thanks Peter Smythe on Truck.net):

You'll find that a range change on 18t is not common. A lot more on 3 axles +. You have to pass a test on 8 speed as the licence covers you for plenty of motors with range change. But I always think it's a bit tough if you only ever drive 6 speed 18 tonne


So that's something else not to worry about: no slap-over box and range-change on this trip then.

I sorted out the TomTom and turned it on, but first the vehicle checks. Lights and four-way flashers on and out we go for a walk around. All vehicle checks seem in order. There's no seal on the rear doors so I open one up and I've got about 8 pallets of shrink-wrapped material loaded down the centre line and all looking secure. Close the doors and check the curtain straps and into the cab and start her up.



There are four sets of delivery notes on the engine box, all for the same company and postcode. I had no other brief from them as regards delivery other than they were all in one drop. I knew the customer name from my previous career but didn't know them in Nottingham or indeed have a clue where I was going. I put the postcode into the TomTom and thankfully it found it.

I did a quick browse of the route looking for low bridges (I had downloaded the low-bridge POI files a while back) and double-checked it on my trucker's atlas to make sure: nothing obvious came up.

So here we go: a deep breath and we'll try second gear for starters (from 7.5t experience) and that seemed about right. Through the small estate to the gatehouse, thumb-up to the gateman who lifted the barrier and out we go.

I had never been to this corner of the county and was totally disorientated when I joined the access roads. It was just one roundabout to the main A500 dual carriageway but Dubya (George W on the TomTom – really upsets the lefties!) told me to go left and I foolishly did.

This meant that my first 5 or 6 miles were not on near-motorway standard roads but winding country lanes and a small village but hey, nothing like the deep end to get you into it. I was both surprised and pleased at how readily it came back to me after a 2-year break and didn't feel that new at all. Some of the bends and dips were narrow but I managed not to hit anything or kerb it.

Finally onto the A500 and across the M6 and pulled into a lay-by. I wanted to sort a few things out now out of the gaze of my client. The curtain strap tails were loose on one side so I sorted that out. The air-sprung seat controls had me foxed in the yard so I sorted that too and found my sunglasses that I'd mislaid as the glare was really annoying me; and off we went again.

Through Stoke on the A500 and onto the A50 and joined the other trucks in procession at 53mph or whatever. On to the M1 north and one junction up to the A452 and into Nottingham and the Brian Clough Way (no really, it's true!)

I never have liked this city: an odd mix of urban A roads and dualled ring-roads and a city-centre one-way system that even Wogan once commented on. He said he got lost in the one-way system and was there for months! In my selling days I would have been too but on the umpteenth attempt at escape drove straight through the covered bus station (to howls of abuse from officials) as the only visible way out or I'd still be there now! Still I digress.

The A road narrowed and roundabouts became more frequent as I got closer to the city centre. Then on a major roundabout I took a wrong left turn and ended up in a residential side street. Bother! Time to practise the reversing. But if there are guardian angels for newbie drivers they were working today for there was a garage ahead on the right. It had a canopy but enough space to get around in (just) so that was in one end and out the other avoiding the canopy that said it was a couple of inches lower than our travelling height.

And then on to my "You have arrived at your destination", a mini-roundabout in front of a major entrance to a very large company (whose name was not on the delivery notes and bore no logical connection to them) apart from which there were large signs saying "No HGVs" and "No Visitors". Oh dear, what now?



It was either turn right or back the way I had come so right it was. A narrow-ish road through a mixture of residential and industrial sites. I found a place to pull in by a large entrance to one such site.

I phoned the client and asked for Transport, but it dropped to voicemail so left a message asking could they call and confirm the delivery point. Meanwhile I put the road name on the delivery notes in the TomTom and it gave me a route some 4 miles across town to a totally different postcode.

So off I went back through the urban roads and ring road and got to the road address. This looked more hopeful with a number of large manufacturing or distribution operations around. Having driven the length of this road looking for the customer name, I finally ended up at the rear entrance to the original company (well it is a very large site). I pulled up at the gatehouse just in time to notice the "No HGVs" sign.



Put a man in a uniform and it spells trouble: put him in a lodge with smoked glass windows and a computer to play with and we are in real trouble. We were! With the weariness of a parent at the end of their tether with a toddler, he explained that he just didn't understand how the likes of me could drive past "a bloody big yellow sign saying deliveries this way" as I had. At least he then produced a photocopied map with the route to where I needed to go highlighted in yellow marker pen. Of course the fact that the name on the delivery note (that I had shown him) still bore no resemblance to the company name he represented didn't seem to bother him. (Well it wouldn't because he knew what I didn't)


Could he lift the barrier so I could turn around? Only just, so long as I didn't drive on his grass. Thankfully we have the measure of this Merc now and we didn't. After another wrong turn and encounter with a different gateman (un-related company) we finally queue behind a couple of artics to get into the site. I tell the gate I don't know where I'm going so they give me another map, this time of internal roads and buildings and I'm bound for D95. Ah yes, some of you know where I am now for sure!



Once inside we find the building and yard and park to one side out of the way of the loading bays. There's an artic with the curtains open unloading and an FLT running about. I head for the office sign in the corner clutching the delivery notes and a toot from the FLT horn attracts my attention. The driver beckons me over. "Just unloading this one and I'll be with you next. Pull in where he is when he goes".

I sat in the cab and considered what to do now. I knew I couldn't get back within the 4.5 hours so knew I would need a 45 minute break at some stage. Could I take a 15 minute now? Hmm – hard to judge how long he will be as he's almost empty. Besides not sure what I do if I set the tacho to Break then have to move the vehicle before the 15 mins is up (note to self to find out). So I didn't bother and just left it on Other Work.

But then as the last pallet came off, the FLTs started loading stacks of empty pallets, so I could have booked it as a break. Oh well, we shall learn.

Finally he closes and secures his curtains and he's off. I take his place, hand in the delivery notes and open the curtains on one side (there's only a central stack of pallets on this load). Two forkies buzz in and out and in no time I'm tipped, curtains secured, a quick loan of their key and a trip to the loo and we're off for home.

It's now bang-on rush hour so it takes ages of stop-start crawling to get out of the city and to the motorway but eventually we manage and head south down the M1 and onto the A50 again. This is plain driving and uneventful though from my watch I'm getting critical on the 4.5 hours so will need to find a lay-by before too long. I decide I can get through Stoke in time and plan to stop just before crossing the M6. Frustrating as I'll only be a few miles from the depot, but can't risk busting the rules on my first trip.




From my accumulated time (based on the time I left the depot) and looking at the ETA time on the TomTom, there's no way I can get back in time so I pull over into a lay-by and switch off.



Time to find out how to put the tacho into Break mode and in so doing inadvertently flip to screen that shows my accumulated driving time. And hey, it says 3 hrs 50 mins and I'm only 15 mins from home. So let's go for it and I did!

Thumb-up again to the gateman (or his mate) I'd left at lunchtime, into the yard, now full of vehicles being loaded, parked against a wall out of the way and wandered into the warehouse to find the night shift. "Where do you want the truck and the delivery note copies?" I ask of the first bloke I meet. He takes the notes and says leave the keys in it and leave it where it is. I climb back in the cab, run through the end of shift bit on the tacho, gather all my kit, write up my notes and I'm outa here. It's just gone 7:00pm and I'm over the moon as I pull out of the car park in my own vehicle having completed my first trip.

Sure, a comparative doddle in an oversized puddle-jumper compared to what it could have been and for sure will follow - but a start and the next one won't feel half as bad even if it's tail-lifting cages down the high street or pumping pallets off a tail lift or running a fridge too.

Until next time,

Neil




Welcome Back


Well as I'm now driving for a living, I thought it was time to dust off this blog as the experience is building quickly now and lots of stories to relate.
 
The abrupt end to my reports resulted from failing my third artic test on Monday 2 March 2009. I had not set myself any pre-conditions (that I would pack it in if I didn't pass this time) in fact just had the view that I would keep going until I did pass. But as my instructor drove way from the test centre on that fateful day something had changed inside and I just knew that (for the moment) I couldn't carry on.
 
I think it was the collapse in confidence and perhaps the feeling that I wasn't really in control of events. This time, there was no sudden serious error that meant an immediate fail, just an accumulation of minor errors for the same problem: steering (as they call it). More really about where those wheels on the last axle on the trailer are on roundabouts and junctions. You are allowed up to four "minor" faults for any one category and the fifth means you get a "serious" and that's a fail.
 
So near and yet so far - and I must have been marginal because the examiner took me round Stone Business Park and Stone itself several times to the point that we were out for well over the 90 minutes and that he was late for his next candidate. Very rare apparently.

The reverse had gone perfectly (well I've done three of them now on test so it should!). Though my instructor had tried to re-create a potential problem with the uncoupling several times during training he never could, but had warned me and explained what to do if it happened. Well of course on test number three it did.

This is where with some wear in the kingpin (the bit on the trailer that attaches the trailer to the tractor unit), the handle on the fifth wheel jams and you can't pull it to disengage the coupling. After a couple of attempts we managed.

The drive was uneventful other than I kissed the nearside kerb with the trailer wheels up by the school at Ecceshall. Very narrow there. Not a fail, (one minor) but this set the gimlet-eyed examiner (yes, him – the same one as I had on my Rigid test) on to me so from here on he was watching trailer position like a hawk.

I also got possibly the worst junction on the test routes turning left out of Holmcroft Road on to the A34 north but managed to get it round (just). The last trailer wheel was too close to the kerb for my comfort but either he didn't see it or was happy enough as he didn't mention that in the de-brief.

There was the roundabout coming out of the Business Park where the single carriageway splits into three lanes. He gave me a "straight on" so I took the middle lane (correct as marked on the road) but that left the trailer wheels half blocking the inside lane. A second minor.

He didn’t like the way I took a corner in Stone (though I did as I had been trained) and at the tight left by the BP garage, the trailer wheels were tight to the kerb so as I pulled onto the A34 south again, I had to cross right into the outside lane of the dual carriageway to clear the wheels. Third minor.

I can't remember what the other two were as he didn't mention them. Just "I'm afraid you haven't met the required standard".

As G drove us back up the M6 he asked "What now?" and I knew this time it was different.

"I don't know mate" I said "I really don't know. I'll have to think about it".

Back at the depot I talked through some options with him. 

He said "Look you can drive that thing with no problems. I would have no hesitation in giving you a loaded trailer and sending you off to the other end of the country with it. I've seen far less capable lads than you come back with artic passes and some first time".

I wondered about getting some experience on Rigids first and then maybe trying again later. But for the moment I shook his hand, thanked him for all he done and we parted.

And that left me in no-man's land: unable to get straight to artics and not wanting to bite the bullet of Rigid work that would mean multi-drop, builder's delivery, skips or even the bins.

So for next two (wasted) years I lived off savings whilst trying futilely to get back into IT sales from whence I came. With the money running out and depression setting in with a vengeance, I picked up the phone to the agencies at the beginning of June and went through the registration process.

For the first month nothing happened (even more depression) but then I got a break and a couple of van and minibus delivery jobs popped up (on the day – to Scotland and back!) and I took them. After that came my first Class 2 job (Cat C – Rigid) and from then on I haven't stopped and am even turning work away now as I can't fit it all into the legal requirements of drivers hours.

More tales to follow soon as the reality of the actual job of being a truck driver leaps out and grabs me (as opposed to learning to pass a test).


N