I've still got family cars and the 'joys of motoring' in my head so I thought I'd allow myself a look back over the years. Most of you will know that I spent many years on the road driving the heaviest wagons for the longest hours so I have some qualifications. I never had any real driving lessons, I was given a test in the army in 1954 after the transport officer saw me moving a large tank transporter that was in my way and he was so impressed he sent me out straight away with his sergeant and when I got back I was given a pink slip, I had a full driving licence! In those days this qualified you to drive everything and later on when HGV licences came in I was given one on 'granddad rights', easier than testing all the experienced drivers.
When I got out of the army I was only qualified for two things, killing tanks and driving. There wasn't a lot of scope for the former in Civvy Street but I soon found myself driving for Harrison Brothers at Elslack on milk pick-up and later on on general haulage. This was what was known as 'tramp driving', you found your own loads and went wherever the traffic took you. It was a hard life but I was 'cab-happy', as long as I was driving and had a load to carry I was a happy bunny.
In those days there were no motorways and very few restrictions. If you drove over your allotted hours or with too much weight on you stood a good chance of getting away with it. Road haulage was a cut-throat business and the only way you could make money was by bending the rules. It sounds terrible doesn't it, but I have no regrets, that was how things were and even the police and the traffic commissioners had some sympathy with the drivers. However, there were compensations.
The good things about the job outweighed the bad. When I set off in the morning I was my own boss, there were no mobile phones so once you were in the cab and tramming down the road nobody could get hold of you. I had the responsibility of choosing the loads at the transport clearing houses and if there was a choice I'd pick one that took me somewhere I hadn't been before and preferably the longest distance possible. In my time I covered the whole of mainland Britain from the West Country to the far north. Compared to today there was hardly any traffic on the roads particularly in the North of Scotland. It's hard to believe now but once you got off the main roads you could drive for miles at night and never see another human being, let alone a vehicle. Even down here I have seen me drive up the old A34 on my way back from London in the early hours and perhaps see one other wagon in twenty miles. So, the roads were bad and the work hard but these were the glory days of motoring, it could be enjoyed.
The traffic density isn't the only thing that has changed. In those days if you saw a wagon in trouble at the side of the road you pulled up and offered a hand. Vehicles were slower and the standard of driving far higher, including the cars. True, there was still the occasional idiot but on the whole people were more in tune with the job and behaved well. I always think that things started to deteriorate when cars became more comfortable. I once heard someone describe a modern car as a 'womb with a view' and I think there's something in it. Get the heater on full blast and the stereo playing and you can drift off into a world of your own instead of attending to the job of driving. Funnily enough, in my experience, driving a wagon with bad brakes really kept you on your toes and these were some of the safest vehicles on the road. You couldn't possibly believe how bad brakes could be. We used to have a pre-war Albion tanker at West Marton and in 1968 when Barbara Castle brought the new Road Traffic Act in for the first time minimum standards were specified and when we tested the old Albion we found that the handbrake was better than the foot-brake and it was condemned. Despite it's faults that wagon never had an accident in all those years.
I'll bet you think I'm wearing my rose coloured spectacles but believe me I'm not. It was as good as that, a joy to be out there on the road with a job to do. It all changed for me in 1972. I had the biggest wagon in Barlick, probably the best wage and I was doing 110,000 miles a year. I saw an accident on Beattock in which five people were killed and I realised that things had changed. Traffic was getting faster and more dense and it was a young lad's job so I handed my notice in, left the road and have never regretted doing it. In 2005 I had another flash of reality, I realised one day that I was frightened of traffic. The standard of driving had dropped so far that your safety no longer depended on how good your driving was but how bad the others were. I sold my car and four years later when my licence came up for renewal I kicked it into touch. I reckon I was still a good driver but have no illusions about my reaction times and eyesight. Best thing I ever did! My daughters were delighted even though they all said they loved being driven by me, they had seen another member of the extended family drive long after his sell-by date and it was a relief for them to know they hadn't any worries on my account. Apart from anything else I found I was much better off!
So, how about 'the open road', does it still exist? I don't think so, at least not like it was sixty years ago. Driving on today's congested roads with no trust in the skills of other drivers isn't for me. In the 1960s a family car gave so much joy, trips out were enjoyable and care-free. How does that compare with being in a traffic jam on the motorway en-route to Blackpool? We may have gained better vehicles and roads but I think we have lost something as well. One thing is certain, if I was still setting off in the morning in a motor sixty feet long on today's roads I wouldn't be anywhere near as happy as I was when I was being forced to work all the hours God sent for 17p an hour. I saw the glory days and I'm sorry that the youngsters of today can't experience them.
The old Albion at West Marton in 1968 waiting for the scrap man.