Disclosure — I received this book as an ARC. I don't rightly remember how I came by it, but I probably signed up for it, or entered a drawing, or something. At any rate, I have it.
Growing up in a trucking family (we have a dozen or so truckers in the family including loggers, freighters, and chippers; drivers of skateboards, dump trucks, vans, and refers; cab-overs and conventionals; cummins, corn binders, Volvos, and Detroits; owner-operators, drivers who lease on with companies, and drivers who just drive company rigs; local routes — home every night, N/S routes — generally home on weekends and maybe one night during the week, and long-haul coast-to-coast routes — who the hell knows when they'll be home again), I thought I would really enjoy this book.
I used to make runs with my dad during summers and school breaks between the ages of 7 to about 14 (or whenever it was that the insurance companies changed their policies regarding non-employee passengers) and I loved nearly every part of it, from waking up before dawn, to strapping down loads (when he drove a flatbed), to shrink wrapping cargo on pallets when the loading dock crew was shorthanded, to climbing up on the catwalk to connect the ABS and electrical suzies/pigtails, to walking a safety check before setting out, to scrubbing giant grasshoppers of the grill at the truck stop, to watching the miles of blacktop slide by and knowing how many times road crews had repainted the fog line, to learning how to communicate with other drivers — from CB chatter, to callouts used on specific routes (northbound 48-footer coming through the narrows), to hand signals (to this day, I still catch myself throwing hand signals at oncoming drivers about speed traps — not that many even know what it means anymore; I'm sure they just see some middle-aged lady slapping a hand up to the windshield and probably think she has a few screws loose), to manually transferring and stacking a full load of 100+ pound R-1 tractor tires to another trailer (when he drove a van), to seeing long stretches of beautiful open country, to watching dad "make" his logbook and explain how to plan out when we'd hit the next set of scales (or how we'd get around them), to being rocked to sleep in the sleeper while dad made more miles. It's a wonder I did not become a driver myself. But I didn't. Instead, I found myself working in the publishing industry, and then publishing aspects in other industries.
My dad doesn't drive freight any more: he's mostly throwing a wrench doing maintenance and repairs on the rigs when they roll into the yard, but he still gets out on the road with the draggin' wagon when somebody has a breakdown.
So, as much as trucking has been an integral part of my family life and shaped my personality and identity, I could not force myself to get through the introduction of this book — not even halfway. I think this was largely due to the author's views and attitudes on the hierarchy of truckers and essentially equating movers to the proverbial red-headed step-child of the group. But the kicker, for me, was when Murphy disparagingly spoke of other truckers as not having respect for the mountains and roads. Good Lord, man, those drivers are making their living driving the road you're driving. They absolutely have to have respect for the mountains and roads; they wouldn't be driving for long if they didn't. (Or they'd be driving for Swift. More on that later.)
What Murphy characterized as a lack of respect is really more a matter of "knowing" the mountains and roads. Those freight drivers are regularly on those roads. They've driven them in spring, summer, fall, and winter; in rain, snow, sleet, blistering heat, wildfire smoke, and when the wind is blowing sideways. They eat, sleep, and pray on those roads. They know where they can push it, and where they can't. They know what to expect from those roads, and they know what those roads expect of them. They have a relationship with those roads. It's not an issue of respect — it's an issue of intimate familiarity.
And as far as all the drivers ending up at the same truck stop for the night and starting out from the same place come morning — that may be true, but guess who had to spend more time on administrative tasks to "doctor" the logbooks to show them arriving "on time" rather than late so they are not in violation of DOT driving regulations instead of spending that time showering, or eating, or sleeping, or otherwise enjoying some down time. So yeah, they may have been throwing some shade your way when they passed you, but it had absolutely nothing to do with respect for the road. Okay, lemme put my soapbox away.
For me, Murphy's tone came off as pretentious and better-than-thou (which is funny when I read all the other reviews here saying that they thought he didn't) and really led me to believe that his feelings of "otherness" in the world of truckers were mostly self-imposed and the book an exercise in validation. I have never once heard any driver talk down about movers (if any of the drivers in my family speak poorly about another group of drivers, it's usually because they drive for Swift — if we see a rig on it's side in the ditch, jackknifed on the road, stuck under an overpass, or trailer marks down the side of a building, we immediately start taking odds on whether or not the driver's a Swiftie).
When it comes to truckers, there seems to be a duality in popular public imagination: they're either lone knights of the highway willing to assist stranded motorists, or outlaws with a loose network of solidarity who travel in speeding convoys. They're both. Both and everything in between.
Anyhow, I just couldn't bring myself to push through — I have far too many books in my "To Read" stack to spend time reading something that is not enjoyable. I've caught myself on more than one occasion about to throw the ARC in the recycling bin, but as disgusted as I was, throwing away a book is sacrilegious. And I just keep thinking that if I skip the intro and start reading the chapters, I might actually be able to enjoy it. Except I've already been exposed to this part of the author's attitude, and that will color everything I read from him going forward. We'll see. Heading out on the road with dad in a couple weeks (in a passenger vehicle, though), maybe I'll give it another go when I'm not driving.