I had a near-fatal jack-knife just a week after starting to drive Class 1 - I did a year on rigids first. I was driving down a straight bit of the M40 on a dry, sunny day when all the brakes locked up and the truck jack-knifed, slamming into the embankment at the side of the motorway. You can still see the scars on the landscape now, if you know where to look. I was 23 at the time.
Because I was driving for a dodgy subby out of Poole docks - under 25 and female with no experience in deepest darkest Dorset in 2001, I just had to take whatever crap I could get - no wagon meant no job. By coincidence another cowboy company who I’d originally approached left a message offering me an interview while I was stood on the side of the M40 waiting for a lift home, so I rang them back, explaining the situation. I went to interview the next day bruised and battered but desperate for a job, and they agreed to start me a week later when the bruising and swelling had gone down a bit.
I then went home for a week and stewed.
Day one of the new job was fine. I had an experienced guy sat up with me and we delivered local stuff. Day two I was on my own, and I made it 2 miles down the road onto the bypass before bottling it. I could feel every twitch and wander from the trailer and was convinced it was going to come round on me at any second. So I pulled into a layby and phoned the office, telling them I couldn’t do this after all. They sent someone out to pick me up, but instead of letting me go there and then they offered me another chance the following day.
Day three and off I went again, and again I freaked out, ending up in the same layby as I had before, a jibbering wreck. I sat there for nearly an hour, during which I talked myself round by repeatedly pointing out to myself that if I quit now I’d never drive a wagon again, which would be the end of a long held dream and a waste of the cost of my licence. Eventually I took a HUGE deep breath and carried on.
18 years later here I am, 15 years of tramping under my belt and now test-driving trucks for the transport trade press, among other things. And you know what? That horrible day on the M40 meant I turned out to be a better driver than I ever would have been left to my own devices. To this day I’m cautious on roundabouts, with high COG loads and if I feel wind buffeting the trailer behind me, but not to such an extent it causes a problem. And I’ve never had more than a minor bump since, mostly while manoeuvring in a rush.
Go back, get past the mental block. Lay the ghost to rest. A fortnight after changing job I had the pleasure of driving over my own skidmarks, and I’ll never forget the day my accident happened or how it felt when I tried to drive again. But then I’ll never forget the good stuff which came afterwards either, which I wouldn’t have otherwise experienced at all - and that really WOULD have been something to regret.
