“When that sheriff’s department calls and they’ve got a tractor-trailer blocking five lanes of interstate, they don’t want to hear that the truck won’t run or that we’re putting on a tire,” Adams says. “They want to know we’re on the way. The man at a red light, broken down in a log truck, needs to get that truck to a repair facility so he can make a living. It’s as important to the small man as it is to the large, right up to the state patrol.”
“I was 53 when I started. I had tried other things out there, but I was getting older all the time, and I got to thinking, ‘I’d like to drive a truck. I think I would be good at it.’ I was tired of being broke. I didn’t have medical insurance. I was tired of going nowhere. I wanted to have a skill.”
It was well past dark when the man and the boy finally got the cattle unloaded. The road was empty and the man was tired. The boy had been driving farm trucks around the family ranch for several years. The boy was ready, the man figured. He handed over the keys and climbed into the passenger seat to catch some much-needed shuteye.