Despite all the gizmos we’re packing onto today’s commercial on-highway trucks – roll stability control, air disc brakes, etc. – the fact remains that driver error is still the leading cause of car-truck crashes on our roads. And that means ALL drivers – truckers as well as four wheeler, with errors on the part of four wheelers still accounting for over half the reasons cars and trucks get involved in crashes.

That’s why the Commercial Vehicle Safety Alliance (CVSA), in partnership with the Federal Motor Carrier Safety Administration (FMCSA), is going to keep expanding its Operation Safe Driver campaign. It’s aimed at getting to root causes of driver errors, which, as we all know, involve speeding and aggressive driving behaviors. Both of those are “errors” in the broad sense of the word, though drivers have a significant amount of control they can exercise over them.

“The statistics tell the tale: nearly nine out of 10 crashes between cars and trucks are attributed to the driver, with 56% of those attributed to the passenger car driver,” said FMCSA Administrator John Hill in a press statement about the new effort. “Programs like Operation Safe Driver will help all drivers realize how their decisions behind the wheel affect safety.”

With approximately 43,000 people dying on U.S. highways each year – with 5,000 of those fatalities involving large trucks – something’s got to be done. And what I like about this program is that it finally addresses the CAR driver’s role in these deadly crashes, rather than just hammer on the truck driver alone. Again, the FMCSA’s own crash analysis shows that 56% of crashes involving a large truck and a passenger vehicle are attributed to the passenger vehicle driver, with the remaining 44% (obviously) the fault of the truck driver.

“CVSA wants to make clear that driving defensively and in a cooperative manner makes for safer highways for all drivers and passengers on the road,” said CVSA Executive Director Stephen F. Campbell said. “This program part of a larger law enforcement effort and focus to reduce fatalities on the most dangerous, high crash corridors in North America.”

Now, this doesn’t mean trucking gets to turn a blind eye to the problems festering on its side of the ledger. Look at the statistics the most recent statistics Operation Safe Driver collected between October 21 and 28 this year – and effort involving nearly 3,700 law enforcement personnel and more than 1,500 localities in 31 states and five Canadian provinces.

Out of 20,523 Commercial Motor vehicle (CMV) Driver/Credential Inspections, 2,090 (10.2%) resulted in the driver being placed out of service. Some 30 carriers (or 34% of the total reviews) receiving a Conditional Safety Rating – not good, as the national average of carriers rated “Conditional” is 25%. Another 10 carriers (or 11% of the total reviews) receiving an Unsatisfactory Safety Rating – again, not good, as the national average of carriers rated “Unsatisfactory” is 6%

But then look at these two sets of statistics. Out of 16,636 CMV Driver Traffic Enforcement Contacts, 4,229 resulted in moving violations, or 0.25 violations per contact. Then, out of 6,698 Non-CMV Driver Traffic Enforcement Contacts (that’s a long-winded way of saying “car drivers”) resulted in 4,860 moving violations – or 0.73 violations per contact, almost TRIPLE the rate of truckers. That’s pretty telling, I think.

Here’s another series: out of 22,181 CMV Driver License checks and 6,205 Non-CMV Driver License checks, the program cited 53.8% of truckers for speeding, which rose to 68.2% for car drivers. Only 0.4% of the truckers got tickets for reckless driving, whereas that climbed to 3% of car drivers. Only 0.8% of truckers were cited for improper passing, which rose to 1.7% for car drivers.

But there are also plenty of areas where truckers need to improve. Failure to obey traffic lights and signs is one: 14.7% of those 22,181 truckers got cited for that; only 3.6% of car drivers did. Following too closely was a problem for 5.7% of truckers and 5% for car drivers – that’s something both groups need to work on. Some 3.2% of truckers were cited for improper lane changes; only 2% of car drivers were.

One thing’s for certain – the focus is going to be on drivers of ALL vehicles from here on out when it comes to highway safety improvement efforts. And that all-inclusive approach is definitely a good thing.

I know, I know: you’ve heard the mantra “Always wear your seat belt” since you graduated driver’s ed umpteen years ago. Problem is, many truck drivers still DON’T wear them – about 41%, according to figures compiled by the Federal Motor Carrier Safety Administration (FMCSA) last year.

Yet it’s the lowly seat belt that’s the final line of defense in not only preventing a driver from getting killed in an accident, but also reducing the severity of any injuries sustained in a wreck. And all it takes is just three second – three MEASELY seconds – to buckle up, thus vastly increasing your chances (and that of your drivers) to not only survive a crash but suffer fewer injuries as well.

Farmers Insurance just completed an in-depth study of seat belt effectiveness using 2006 fatal crash data compiled by the U.S. Department of Transportation to back this up – and while it looked mainly at car and light-truck occupant stats, the lessons for truck drivers are still really profound, I believe.

“Once again, we find strong statistical evidence that seat belts remain the most important protection for the driver,” noted Kevin Mabe, staff economist at Farmers, who headed up the insurance carrier’s analysis. “We found that when a driver used a seat belt, the odds of a fatality dropped nearly 70% compared to a driver who did not.”

Mabe said Farmer’s analysis incorporates a logistic econometric model with forty-one variables, accounting for factors such as road and traffic conditions at the time of the fatal accident, location and time, accident events, vehicle specifics, driver demographics, and safety features. “Controlling for these additional external factors allows us to more precisely isolate the degree to which safety belts save lives,” he explained.

Several other factors showed significance in decreasing the odds of a driver’s death, Mabe said. For example, rear-end collisions proved less deadly than head-on or “T-bone” collisions. Larger vehicles, such as trucks, sport utility vehicles (SUVs), and vans, appeared to protect the driver better than a typical automobile due to their larger size (Duh!). Dry roads, in contrast with wet roads, decrease the odds of a fatality by over 10%, suggesting that drivers should use caution when navigating slick roads.

Other factors increased danger on the roads. “Nighttime and winter driving tended to produce more deadly accidents, and drivers should continue to exercise additional caution,” Mabe noted. “Certain accident events, such as rollovers, ejections, and vehicle fires, greatly reduce the survivability in an accident. Motorcycle accidents showed remarkably increased mortality rates compared to other vehicles.”

Not all factors proved predictive, he stressed. While driver height and weight appeared to have little influence on the outcome of the accident, age plays an important part. “Older drivers, as well as young new drivers, have an increased risk. But in the end, a driver’s three-second choice to ‘buckle up’ will more than double his or her chances to survive a severe accident.”

Those odds are the kind you can live with.

It’s a ubiquitous sight that greeted me this morning — a squat concrete mixer truck, obviously fully loaded and heading for a job, inching ever so slowly up Old Keene Mill Road (well below the posted 45 mph speed limit) through greater Springfield, VA. I think to myself, hey, it’s rush hour and people are going to be whipping around this guy at ninety miles an hour, flipping him off along the way: we’ll be lucky if an accident doesn’t occur.

Except …

First, the driver of this medium-duty International mixer truck (the drum painted in red, white, and blue stripes, just like the American flag) has his yellow hazards on — and in the misty morning gloom, those flashing yellow lights give all the drivers coming up behind him in the right lane ample time to psss on the left.

Second, at every turn lane or bus lane on the right hand side, he moves over to let traffic pass, again giving time for commuters to get around him safely. He makes smooth lane changes (and it’s no wonder — with the concrete drum turning, he’s no doubt worried that a sharp manuever may cause a rollover) and doesn’t drive in typical “run fast downhill, creep slow uphill” mode, giving everyone the ability to pass, regardless of the roadway incline.

This is professional driver courtesy in action — courtesy no doubt completely overlooked by the hundreds of morning commuters plowing past him well above the speed limit. Yet if he (or she — I couldn’t tell from my angle) didn’t drive their concrete mixer in this fashion, the hue and cry by way of car horns, flashing headlights, and muffled epithets would’ve been hard to miss. But all of that got short circuited by a truck driver taking pains to make his journey less of a hassle for others.

Wish I knew your name or that of your company, my friend — for your efforts, trivial as they may seem to other drivers, did not go unnoticed. Keep up the good work!

“Running is one of the best solutions to a clear mind.” –Sasha Azevedo, athlete

I met Jack Dwyer, oh, nearly 15 years ago now at one of the many trucking shows we reporters cover for a living and quickly stuck the nickname “Iron Man” on him. At the time an avid marathoner, Jack would somehow regularly clock in 10- to 15 -mile training runs despite the long days and nights us hacks faced when we attended these conventions.

I met up with him once, outbound on a morning jog (more like plodding, actually) in Arizona, while he was coming off a 10 miler. He hung with me for a couple of miles and I just couldn’t believe the pace he could set — and keep — after logging in that kind of distance. He didn’t pound out those kinds of miles every day, of course, but he didn’t slack off on the road either — he kept to a solid routine, despite his travel schedule, and it really paid off healthwise for him.

I mean, here was a guy in his 60s with the energy and looks of someone in his 40s — lithe, not a spare pound of flesh on him, able to run circles around me, then in my mid-20s. He pulled the same brutal hours everyone else did, but his high level of physical fitness enabled him to hold up better than most — especially in terms of maintaining the mental agility needed for writing stories on the fly.

A great story I got about him was the time he took the train down from his home to run in the Boston marathon. He walked from the train station to the starting line, ran 26.3 miles, then walked down to the now-closed Eliot Lounge for a post-race party, walked back to the train station and then went home. THAT, my friends, is the definition of endurance.

I relate Jack ‘Iron Man’ Dwyer’s tale because it proved to me that physical fitness really does matter — exercise really DOES provide the health benefits all the doctors keep telling us about. Now, this doesn’t mean drivers must start clocking in 15 milers every day. What it does mean is that with some creative planning and a willingness to stick with it, staying healthy on the road is not only possible, it can sustain you for the long term. I myself am trying to stick to Jack’s method — though at most I cover 5 miles on a run or speed walk, I try to exercise every day, especially on the road. And I find exercise helps sustain me when I travel, not only in terms of physical health but mental clarity as well.

I talked with Jack not long ago and he told me he’s given up marathoning — and most other running — now, instead volunteering at marathons and half-marathons and going to the local Gold’s Gym for a one-hour workout almost every day. He’s still sticking to his schedule, though the form of exercise he uses has changed. My hope is that I can stick with it, too, and end up looking like him when I am in my 60s.

“Perpetual optimism is a force multiplier.” – Gen. Colin Powell, U.S. Army [Ret.]

Hands down one of the best sports stories ever written came from the pen of Sports Illustrated columnist Rick Reilly in 2003 – and not about unbeaten seasons, no hitters, or down-to-the-wire championship wins. No, Reilly wrote about the best – bar none – tradition in college sports: Picking Up Butch at Middlebury College in Vermont.

Back in 1961, then-13 year-old Butch Varno – who’s afflicted with cerebral palsy – and his grandmother (who cleaned dormitories at the college) were trying to get home from a football game in the middle of a snowstorm, but Butch’s wheelchair kept getting stuck. Enter student athlete Roger Ralph, who pulled over and gave them a ride home – kicking off a 45 year tradition at the school.

You see, all freshman basketball and football players at Middlebury – men and women alike – must go and get Butch for every home game, with the basketball players doing this during the football season, with football players swapping roles for the basketball season. Butch gets picked up and wheeled right next to the team bench, with the freshman responsible for getting him hot dogs and soda, as well as helping him eat and drink said goodies. Over the years, though, this Middlebury tradition really expanded – students helped Butch learn to read, get his high school equivalency degree, and became his friends.

When Butch’s house got flooded out earlier this year, the school and its students rallied to his side. A local church got them temporary housing, while the school provided funds to help renovate an apartment for them – one that would be handicap accessible for Butch. They’ve even set up a fund to help take care of Butch in he future (You can get more information about that at www.middlebury.edu)

Now THAT, my friends, is a worthy tradition – something that’s required a long-term commitment on the part of the school and its people, a commitment that hasn’t flagged in nearly half a century. And that kind of spirit is something many trucking companies and drivers know intimately.

Take truck driver Bill Hutson, for example. Five years ago, Hutson launched a non-profit company dubbed “Table Talk Foundation for Better Living“ that focuses on fixing up the homes of the needy for free.

To get it off the ground, he contributed over $40,000 of his own money – that’s right, FORTY THOUSAND GREENBACKS, my friends – while also building and selling picnic tables to help keep his charity going. Part of his mission, he told me, is training “the homeless and unemployed in the construction trade, to expand both the work and the help our program can do.”

That’s a pretty bold long-term effort to sustain, but he’s doing it. “I have sort of a code that I live by,” Hutson told me by phone. “When I went to fix homes with the contractor who taught me everything, I asked him why he did it and he said this: ‘To the world, you may be just one person, but to one person, you just may be the world.’ I try to live by that every day.”

You can’t beat that kind of spirit – something that’s definitely not in short supply where Bill Hutson and Middlebury College are concerned, it seems.

(If you want to help Hutson out, drop him a line at bill@tabletalkministries.org)

“You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do.” –Eleanor Roosevelt

Had a long talk with Charlene Testerman the other day, who lost her husband and life long team driving partner Leonard back in May this year in a freak construction accident at their home. She called me to say “thank you” for the condolence card I’d sent — whereas it should’ve really been ME thanking HER for being fortunate enough to get to know them both.

I asked her how she was doing and wasn’t surprised a bit by her answer — while it’s been tough not having Leonard by her side, she’s back out knocking on doors looking to haul some freight. “It’s been five months — time to get going again,” she told me. Good people are STRONG people, I’ve found, and Charlene’s living proof of that maxim.

One of the things that struck me most in our conversation concerned the reaction to Leonard’s passing — from how the funeral home where Charlene had the viewing almost couldn’t handle the hundreds of people who came to pay their respcts to the overwhelming amount of mail she’d received from all over the country. She’s making a scrapbook from all of it — along with photos — about Leonard to give to her grandson, so that one day “he’ll know something about his grandfather.” I can tell you that “scrapbook” will be several volumes long before she’s done with it, knowing how many lives she and Leonard touched over their driving career.

Charlene also had this note of surprise in her voice as we talked, as if she couldn’t quite grasp how the two of them had become so well known — for she and Leonard didn’t consider themselves to be “super drivers” or anything like that. How could I explain to her that their goodwill, easy friendship, humility, and out-and-out kindness is something people remember, especially in trucking? That their simple yet profound belief in doing a good job every single time with smiles on their faces and in their hearts earned them coast-to-coast respect?

Charlene seemed worried that she wouldn’t be as good a driver without Leonard — something that couldn’t be further from the truth. Any fleet would be foolish not to bring her on board and I said as much — her decades of professionalism behind the wheel speaks for itself. But in some respects, Charlene’s worries about going back on the road by herself are spot on — I mean, what a comfort it is to know someone is right there, watching your back, when your parked at a dark truckstop overnight in the middle of winter, or stopped along a long empty stretch of highway for a break.

But she’s going back out there nonetheless — facing those fears head on. That tells you, I think, a lot about the kind of person (and driver) Charlene is. My only wish is that we had a lot more like her — and like Leonard — out on the road today.

“If you ever see a frog on top of a telephone pole, you know he did not get there by himself.” –David ‘Doc’ Cooke, ‘The Mayor’ of the Pentagon.

His name was Mister Coggins and he hailed from Tennessee. That’s all I know — that’s all I ever WANTED to know. I never learned his first name over the six weeks we spent together, neither in the crude and outdated driving simulators owned by Washington & Lee High School back then, nor in the underpowered Chevrolet Cavalier four-door sedans me and three other unlucky students (so we thought) found ourselves in as he taught us how to drive.

Coggins had a reputation as the toughest, orneriest instructor in W&L’s summer driver education program. And it was a well-deserved one, I found. After one afternoon piloting those ugly Cavaliers around the school’s parking lot, we hit the streets — including Interstate 66, which cuts through Arlington County like a knife. You had to get that gasping V4 sedan up to 55 mph by the time you reached the top of that long entrance ramp hill, or he’d give you ‘tew points’ to add to your score. If you totaled 21 points, you flunked the day’s drive — and had to come back over the weekend.

Flunking a drive with him was easy: Rolling stop for a right turn on red? Automatic 21 points. Did you put on your seatbelt the minute you sat down in the car? If you forgot, automatic 21 — you don’t even get to turn the key in the ignition. The man was merciless and I HATED him for it — you had to park the non-power steering car all by yourself, know where ALL the controls were (radio buttons included) by touch, follow all posted speed limit and roadway signs to the letter. Can’t find the defroster controls while driving? Two or five point fine, depending on how he was feeling.

And that accent — LORD, how I DETESTED that accent. Can’t came out ‘Cain’t,’ what came out ‘whut’ and you came out ‘yew.’ “Whut in the HECK were yew THINKIN!!!’ Mister Coggins barked at me one day when I failed to notice the speed limit drop from 45 mph to 25 mph. “Cain’t yew unnerstand LIL’ KIDS may be runnin’ around these heah streets??!!”

We envied our peers, whose teachers gently coached them through everything — even helped them park their cars at the end of the day. We, instead, got the original Tennessee Drill Sergeant and fumed in our misery. Towards the end of our stay under his tutaledge, he turned it up several notches: For example, we had to walk around the car for a quick visual inspection (especially the tires), get in and buckle our seat belts, adjust our mirrors, plus check all blind spots and behind the vehicle BEFORE turning the vehicle on IN THAT ORDER or he’d flunk us — condemning us to a Saturday spent with HIM and other unfortunates.

Yeah, Mister Coggins was a piece of work.

I just wish I could thank him.

Sure, he rode us hard and snapped at us and made us follow what we THOUGHT were stupid rules … and then I started driving on my own, and found out the truth. Good driving is all about developing good instincts — ones that aren’t innate, that must be rigorously pounded into one’s skull until they become automatic. I can’t sit in a car without a seat belt on to this day because I begin to feel physically uncomfortable without it — like an itch I can’t scratch.

Mister Coggins also worked incessently to make sure we checked the side mirrors and rear view every couple of minutes as we drove — and dinged us with points if we didn’t. That taught us to focus on what was going on around the ENTIRE vehicle as it moved, not just what was in front of us. And he made us do all the work — to learn the hard way, so we could do it on our own when he wouldn’t be there. My only regret is that Arlington county went to automatic transmissions for its driver’s ed cars the year I joined his class — and my manual shifting ability to this day stinks as a result. I am sure he would’ve straightened that out.

Yeah, it’s been over 22 years since my last class with Mister Coggins, but his lessons remain firmly ingrained. I guess I am kinda like that frog on the telephone pole, in a way, because I wouldn’t be the kind of driver I am today without the help of Mister Coggins. That’s fer dang sure.

“Knowledge must come through action.” –Sophocles

Mention the name “Wal-Mart” in mixed company and you’ll usually get a lot of grumpy, mean looks. Frankly, most folks don’t like the giant retailer one bit and for a variety of reasons — low-paid labor without benefits, heavy reliance on “Made in China” goods, or how they’ve driven mom and pop stores out of business. Go ahead, pick a problem, and I guarantee you someone is trying to pin it on Wal-Mart.

This isn’t to say they are a saintly corporation, now — far from it. And many of the grievances leveled against the company are true (though maybe not to the extent we see and read about in the mainstream media). But one HUGE thing that gets overlooked by almost everyone is how Wal-Mart is changing the game: Not so much in retailing and logistics anymore — they’re past masters in those areas — but in their role as motivator for innovation in trucking, specifically in terms of boosting tractor trailer fuel economy while lowering pollution. They are also putting a richly deserved emphasis on the role their drivers play not only in terms of company and vehicle performance but in the community at large.

I got to see this first hand in Dallas a few weeks back when Peterbilt Motors and its sister company Kenworth unveiled prototype hybrid Class 8 tractors — built in an exclusive partnership with Eaton — that are being delivered to Wal-Mart for field trials. These are tractors that will one day be able to operate like Toyota’s Prius — humming along on electricity in stop and go urban operations — while also being able to power HVAC systems for the night without having to idle the diesel engine. And Wal-Mart’s been the goad in getting this project off the ground — without their commitment to buying and testing these trucks, neither Peterbilt nor Kenworth would be doing this. It’s just too expensive to gamble on market acceptance these days.

I talked to Tracy Rosser, the former VP-corporate traffic for Wal-Mart, about the company’s innovation strategy earlier this year. He’s since moved on to a new position, but his insight shows how innovation at this level can still have some big economic payoffs for fleets.

“Our fleet strategy mirrors our corporate and logistics strategies – we need to improve operational efficiency so we can keep costs down to remain competitive in the global market,” he explained to me. “We’re trying to control more of our freight and get more density in our lanes so we can maximize driver and asset productivity, thus keeping control of our costs.”

Rosser pointed to the major efficiency gains Wal-Mart achieved for its private fleet of 7,000 tractors – trucks that haul goods from the company’s 39 distribution centers to its 1,075 stores in the U.S. The company originally wanted to improve fleet efficiency by 25% within three years, largely measured by gains in fuel economy. But by getting suggestions from its drivers, switching to new tractor specs, and making operational to its trucking operations pattern, Rosser said those targets were met within just one year.

“In 2006, we added APUs (auxiliary power units) to our vehicles to reduce idling, made aerodynamic improvements to our tractors, switched to more fuel-efficient tires, and had our drivers adopt more fuel efficient practices largely suggested by them, such as progressive shifting,” he told me. “We also now turn 96.5% of our trucks at the shipping docks in under two hours. Those changes helped us boost average fleet fuel economy to 7.1 mpg for all except two months last year — that’s how we achieved our efficiency targets.”

Rosser noted that Wal-Mart doesn’t plan to stop there. “By 2015, we plan to achieve 100% fuel efficiency gains for our fleet,” he said. “That will come not only from further improvements to the trucks and operating patterns, but from changes in our packaging as well, which will affect shipment weights.”

But it’s not just about the numbers either — that’s the other interesting thing about Wal-Mart’s trucking presence. For instance, the company has been a huge supporter of Trucker Buddy for almost a decade now, getting its drivers matched up with elementary schools across the country. Sure, a nice PR ploy, some would say. I would note that you’d get more positive exposure — and keep your drivers focused on driving — by making a big donation to say the Ronald McDonald House every year. But Wal-Mart realizes that drivers get a lot out of the Trucker Buddy connection, finding it’s a win-win for the company, driver, and community alike on a lot of unexpected levels.

“We’ve been involved now with Trucker Buddy for 10 years and we initially just got involved with it as just another opportunity to connect our people with the communities they live in,” Tim Harris, Wal-Mart’s regional transportation manager, grocery-western division, told me a few weeks back. “But we’re finding that our drivers just get so much out of it. Not only is it inspiring to them, it’s changing the image of truck drivers overall in their communities.”

Harris said not only are children responding positively to the pen-pal-style relationship Trucker Buddy helps form between drivers and schools, but so are the parents.

“I’ve gotten letters from countless parents telling me how much of an impact this program had on their child. That makes a difference in terms of how drivers are viewed in their communities and in the public at large,” he said to me. “The Trucker Buddy program has impacted one million kids so far and we’re happy to keep supporting it any way we can.”

It also tells you something that company is willing to sent key executives out into the field to show it’s support of such programs, both to the public and to its own drivers. That’s how far Wal-Mart is willing to go to change the game in trucking, at least.

“The bravest are surely those who have the clearest vision of what is before them, glory and danger alike, and yet notwithstanding go out to meet it.” –Thucydides

I met Leonard and Charlene Testerman several years ago on a cold, snowy day before the Mid America Trucking Show. Stopping in for my annual visit to Mercer Transportation’s headquarters in Louisville, KY, I couldn’t take my eyes off this glorious black-and-red extended hood Peterbilt in the parking lot. It was the Testermans’ pride and joy — named “Rollin’ Thunder” — and they spent over an hour telling me how they built it, showing off the scrap book they made detailing the refurbishment process in their garage behind their home in Frederick, MD. They didn’t know me from Adam, yet they treated me as though I were family.

I later learned from Dale Corum, Mercer’s general manager, just how special they were. Besides being the top earners year in and year out (pulling down six figures), the Testermans were extremely well-liked by customers and fellow drivers alike. In fact, many customers asked for them by name to haul their loads — something that’s all too rare in trucking these days. Yet none of it went to their heads — they were simply the nicest people you’d ever want to meet.

I kept bumping into the Testermans at show truck competitions over the years — in fact, I made a point of seeking them out. They always gave me warm hellos, no matter that most drivers are rightly wary of reporters wearing tires and carrying cameras. They never ignored me in the company of their peers — they were never stingy with their handshakes or well-wishes. Visiting with them always made my day.

That’s why finding out that Leonard got killed this past May in a freak construction accident at his home came as quite a shock. I simply couldn’t believe it. Even worse, he died practically in the arms of Charlene, who’d been by his side literally for 22 years, both at home and on the road. That’s the thing about husband and wife teams in this industry — you bond on a level many marriages simply can’t achieve because you live and work together almost every single day.

Leonard and Charlene really made it work — they tended to be quiet folks but you could really sense how tightly together they were. I remember when Charlene showed off her scrapbook detailing how she and Leonard stretched the frame on Rollin’ Thunder, with her doing a lot of the welding. Leonard — sporting his trademark 1950s-style flattop haircut — just stood back and let her have the floor, smiling all the while. He knew how much pride Charlene took in the work she’d done on their truck and I could tell he wanted her to have the spotlight all to herself.

So well respected were the two of them that when Bob Martin won a truck makeover from Shell Lubricants for his rig, the firm that did the work — S&J Truck Sales — had a picture of Rollin’ Thunder painted on the side of his sleeper along with Leonard’s name. S&J did a really beauitful job with this testament to Leonard (and a great job with Bob’s truck I might add).

I kept telling myself over the years that I needed to get up to their home in Frederick — only an hour and a half north of where I live — for a visit, but, as usual, I kept putting it off. Now that chance is gone. It’s but one more regret I’ll be keeping close at hand for a long, long while, I think.

Five seconds after the stock car engines turned over, I knew I’d made a huge, HUGE mistake … and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it. I’d run head on into “too late” and as our nine-car squadron pulled out of pit row onto the Texas Motor Speedway track, I said my prayers and fervently hoped not to puke during our four lap jaunt.

You see, stock car racing — like driving big rigs — looks pretty easy on the outside. I mean, sure, they go fast, but it’s not like they are navigating a maze of turns or dodging pedestrians, bicyclists and fellow car drivers. There’s the fear of crashes and fires, of course, but in our case, there’d be no bumping — we’d be staying a car length apart, with no jostling for first place. We’d basically go very fast in a big circle. C’mon, how bad could that be?

A LOT bad as it turns out. First, there’s the screaming engine all of 10 inches in front of you. And when I mean screaming, I mean SCREAMING. My nerves were shot in an instant. Second, when we hit 163 mph into turn three on the first lap, it felt like the G-forces were ripping the flesh right off my face — and a wide open window didn’t help matters at all. Every turn drove me back into my seat like a punch to the gut and my mouth became as dry as a desert. How someone could even keep their hands on the wheel, much less DRIVE, under that G-force pressure gave me instant new respect for stock car racers, amateurs and pros alike.

Before we’d gotten into our cars, zipping up into our flame retardant suits, I mentioned to one of my fellow journalists that I wished I’d gone to the bathroom first. She replied that by turn one I wouldn’t need to pee — in fact, I wouldn’t be able to think about much of anything. Except staying alive. Boy, was SHE right.

By lap two, I’d had enough — turn three came up again and the wall looked WAY too close to me. I could see and feel just how deadly such speeds can be. Heck, Dale Earnhardt was killed by a less-than-spectacular head on tap into the wall. So I screwed my eyes shut and kept them shut till we pulled back into pit row and the motor cut out. I could barely get my helmet off and my hands shook for nearly an hour afterwards.

Todd Graham, an account manager for Eaton who’s spent years learning to drive stock cars in his spare time with the Texas Team Driving School (the folks who manned the wheels for our troupe) later explained to me that it’s all about throttle control and track position out on the raceway. “You can’t think about where anyone else is on the track — you have to focus on what you are doing, especially where you are on the track,” he told me. “You learn to keep the throttle cranked up into the turn and take the right position so you can stay in the turn safely at that speed.”

Todd also added that you don’t just go out and rip off a 100 laps either. The school teaches you in 10 lap increments over a day and a half, gradually increasing your speed levels on the straightaways, then getting you to throttle up in the turns. “The instructors are the real crazy ones,” he noted. “Because they are getting into the passenger seat with complete novices behind the wheel. That’s truly scary.” But if you keep up your training, your body and reflexes adapt to the conditions and the high speeds. Eventually, you become a natural.

There are lots of ways this relates to trucking (not 163 mph though — please don’t attempt that on the highway! PLEASE!) but most importantly when it comes to training. Stock car racing is a sport where mistakes come with deadly consequences — just like trucking. And it takes a patient and oftimes fearless instructor to let a rookie have the wheel, knowing all the while how disastrous one error on the part of that rookie can be.

As for me, I am NEVER getting in one of those cars ever again — NEVER. That may be fun for some people, but not this one. I’m going back to my old and slow minivan, thank you very much, without a shred of regret.