Holly Roller

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100 GO! January 2012

CABIN COFFEE (right). Sakkie never pulls over forWimpycoffee.He makeshis ownspecial blend:a spoon ofRicoffy,a spoon of Milo, a pinch of Epsom salts andsweetener.

Every day we get stuck behind trucks, curse them and overtake them, butwhat happens up there in the cabin? Whats it like to ride in a truck for

24 hours, with nothing but the road for company?

WORDS& PICTURES ERNS GRUNDLING

Its just after 4pm on a Tuesday

afternoon and my ride with Sakkie

Pretorius has just begun. Well be

driving in Kammiesberg a Scania

R420 22-wheeler, with 12 gears and

two giant tractors on the back.

Ja, well drive old Kammiesberg until

she sings, Sakkie shouts above the roar

of the engine.

Were starting our journey in Cato Ridge,

about 50km inland from Durban. Next stop,

a co-op in Bloemfontein about 650km away.

Then well turn around and drive all t he

way back. Sakkie has just returned from an

identical trip, but theres no time to snooze.

He tells me he follows the load-and-go

method. When theres work to be done, hedoes it. No time to lose.

Our cargo is not for sissies: the whole lot

truck and load weighs 47500kg.

Thats what Ive got in my hands right

now, Sakkie says proudly, sitting behind the

enormous wheel like a king. He is 55 years

old and looks like a cross between Kojak and

a rugby lock. Hes been in the business for

close to 20 years.

Ive always been curious about the life of

a truck driver. Maybe it wasOver the Top, the1980s truck-driving-arm-wrestling movie

starring Sylvester Stallone, or maybe its the

hundreds of kilometres Ive spent crawling

along behind trucks on one of our national

roads. Do they all have teddy bears on the

dashboard? How do the drivers feel about

impatient motorists? And what about those

notorious truck stops?

You cant just c all up any truck driver

and ask for a ride, though. So how did I find

Sakkie? It all started with a popular late-night

radio show calledSiele op Wiele on RSG, where

truck drivers from across the country call

in to share anecdotes, offer support to each

other and chat about life on the road. Sakkie

is one of the most active callers on the show.

Hes also a lay preacher. I decided that he

was my man.

Behind us someone flashes their headlights.You wouldnt believe how many cars chal-

lenge this hulk of iron, Sakkie says. Where

do they want me to drive? Truck drivers also

have feelings, you know.

Reading the roadWe rumble past Pietermaritzburg and Howick,

the landscape green on each side of the frantic

freeway. I cant believe how high up you sit

in the cabin. It gives you a totally different

impression of the road.Even when Sakkie is talking, checking

one of his three cellphones for messages or

rooting around for a cooldrink (like me, hes

a Stoney fan), he keeps a forensic focus on

the road.

You have to read whats going on up

ahead, he says. This isnt a wheelbarrow

that you can just put down and it will stop.

Look at that car in the emergency lane. I

have to keep an eye on him.

Between Sakkie and me theres a flask with

coffee, a few bananas, a container full of ginger

biscuits, bottles of flavoured water and an

assortment of sweets. Sakkies bed is behind

our seats. The faded duvet has a flower motif.

And guess what? There are no teddy bears

on the dash, just a feather duster. Those toys

are dust traps, Sakkie says. This truck is like

my flat. If my flat is clean, my life is clean.A voice crackles over the radio. Its Tolla,

another truck driver. Where are you now?

Sakkie asks, and the two of them discuss the

speed traps on the route.

At the end of the conversation, Sakkie signs

off: Arriewarrie, bye!

Its almost dark and weve just passed

Estcourt. Sakkies bond with his truck is >


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www.gomag.co.za GO! January 2012 101

LIFE ON THE ROAD


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LOADANDGO.Cato Ridge,about50 kmoutsideDurban ontheN3, islike a harbourfor trucks.Several companies storegoods here andtrucksstopeveryday tofill upwith diesel.

like the bond between a man and his horse.

Maybe even closer: Sometimes it feels like Im

married to this truck, he says. A real woman

eats your money and moans about everything,

but Kammiesberggivesyou money and works

harder than a donkey. When you turn the

ignition key, the truck says, Kom pa, lets go.

When a truck is new you have to get used to it,

but Kammiesberg fits like an old shoe.

Diesel in the veinsSakkie became a truck driver after he was re-trenched from the railways. He suffered a

further setback when he lost his pension after

investing in the infamous Krion pyramid

scheme in Vanderbijlpark.

To do this job you must have diesel in

your veins, he says. Youre alone for 99 % of

the time and youre hardly ever home. Thats

why I installed a CB radio. When you start

talking to the other drivers the road flies by.

Its also an unpredictable job. Sakkie seldomknows where his next load will take him: one

day its Standerton; the next, Cape Town.

You cant plan too far ahead thats the

transport business, he says. I call it trane-

sport, the sport of tears.

Name it and Sakkies transported it: cow

dung, beans, mielies, chrome, steel, paper

and even part of the stage for last years U2

concert. The concert was okay, he says.

Not really my kind of pudding, but they

know how to dress

Every now and then another driver greets

us over the radio. Sakkie always answers, fullof enthusiasm. His conversations are littered

with wisecracks and he often fires a Bible

verse or two back at the caller.

Two years ago, Sakkie and his wife divorced

after 36 years of marriage. He tells me it had

nothing to do with the truck, and he still

wears his wedding ring.

It wasnt me who broke our promise to

God, he says.

After the split, Sakkie lived in Kammiesberg

for 11 months, mostly at the companys depotin Heidelberg. These days he has a new lady in

his life, called Santie. He moved in with her

in Vereeniging and she phones him regularly

when hes on the road. They coo at each other

like teenagers.

Life is a songIts properly dark now and weve just started

the arduous climb up Van Reenens Pass.

The headlights illuminate a dead kudu in the

middle of the road. Sakkie avoids the obstacle

and grumbles about the gears: This gearbox

gives such nonsense between the eighth andninth gear. Always, the same story.

He has made lots of friends through the

Siele op Wieleradio show. He shows me one

of his cellphones as proof 1 323 contacts.

You have no idea how much hurt is out

there, he says.

Most of his radio pals have nicknames:

Pienktongetjie, Troll, Jan Kakebeen, Mielie,

Naartjie Nose, Field Mouse

Weve been driving for four hours straight

and were still some way from Kestell, whereIm hoping to take a leak at the roadworks

leading up to the village.


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LIFE ON THE ROAD

SPIC N SPAN.Sakkie likes his truck neat and tidy,without unnecessary frills. If the windscreen is dir ty hepulls over and cleans it himself.

A woman eats your

money and moans

about everything,

but this truckgives

you money and

works harder than a

donkey. When youturn the ignition

key, it says, Kom pa,

lets go.

I just do it while I drive, Sakkie says. I

dont stop, no way. He gives me a sideways

look. You dont believe me? Heres my pee

bottle. He digs around for a plastic water

bottle. Not everyone can pee while they

drive. I can also make coffee.

Sakkie eats while he drives, too. If I bought

food on the road for every meal, Id never

manage with my pay. Its tinned food for me.

We eat dinner in the cab: two tins of

Viennas and beans in tomato sauce and afew slices of brown bread; no butter.

A motorist behind us flashes his lights.

Im so angry I could breastfeed a crocodile!

Sakkie roars, before dissolving into laughter.

See, I make this job fun. If I dont laugh, my

soul will grow old.

Temptations of the eshNear Harrismith, a woman stands on the side

of the road wearing a dress that leaves very

little to the imagination.Some guys enjoy their company, Sakkie

says. Its just one of those things. Not me,

though. I dont smoke and I like alcohol even

less. Ive even stopped dancing.

We pause just long enough at the road-

works for me to empty my bladder, then we

carry on into the night. The villages next to

the N5 go past one by one: Kestell, Bethlehem,

Paul Roux.

At Senekal, a truck driver called Werner

makes contact on the CB radio. He left

Mariental in Namibia early this morning and

has been on the road for almost 20 hours.Ou Sakkie, Werner says. Its going so-

so. The devil is a crafty bugger.

Sakkie rattles off words of support: Dont

let temptation into your heart, my brother.

Blessings and prosperity, and peace and love

to you. And try to stay positive, my brother,

because remember, everything that is beautiful

is positive, do you hear me?

We pass a KFC that glimmers in the

night. Werner signs off and Sakkie gives his

customary greeting: Arriewarrie, bye!In the silence of the cab he lets out a long

sigh. Werner doesnt sound too good, >


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SIGN ONTHE DOTTEDLINE (top). Sakkie and Andries vanSchalkwyk, the workshop manager in Bloemfontein, fill inthe necessary forms.

INSAFEHANDS. A truck driver doesnt justsit behindthewheel; theloading ofgoods isalso hisresponsibility(right).Its hard work,as Sakkies worn gloves cantestify (middle).

FOODFORTHOUGHT (bottom). Sakkies staple food on theroad is bread and tinned spaghetti, and he always has a canof Brut in the cabin.

the moment that happens, you have to act

immediately and offer support.

To help pass the time, we listen to music

on Sakkies MP3 player. Somewhere betweenCreedence Clearwater Revivals Have you

ever seen the rain? and the Campbells

version of Cotton Fields, I fall asleep.

Mpwaaap! goes the air hooter and I jerk

awake its like someone blew a vuvuzela in

the cabin. Sakkie roars with laughter. Youre

running on empty. I just got my second wind.

Just before midnight w e spot the lights o f

Bloemfontein. I woke up in Cape Town this

morning, had lunch at the airport in Durban

and now Im driving into Bloemfontein in

a truck it feels weird to say the least.

Fortunately were not going to load-and-

go immediately. We stop in the parking area

in front of the co-op, where two other trucks

are already parked.

Sakkie crawls into his bed; Ill sleep in my

seat. Outside, petrol attendants shout at each

other and a team of workers sweep the streets.

Another day, another loadI wake up at 5.30am. Sakkie is already busy,offloading the tractors. Workshop manager

Andries van Schalkwyk is surprised to see

Sakkie in Bloemfontein again so soon.

The tractors are now inhiscare, Sakkie

says as he guides Kammiesberg back onto the

highway. Today well drive back to Durban

the same 650km that brought us here.

We listen to the radio and talk about

the highs and lows of life on the road. In

Bethlehem I buy us a late breakfast. Sakkie

digs in. Im a truck driver, he says while

chewing. Everything must be done quickly.

We hustle through life.

He reads the road and talks to his truck.

Every time the radio crackles or one of his

cellphones ring, he brightens up.

We arrive at Cato Ridge just before 4 pm,

24 hours after I climbed into the cabin.

I wasnt even driving and Im exhausted.

You have reached your destination, saysthe GPS.

Dankie Tannie, Im happy to hear that,

Sakkie retorts.

Waiting for him is another load of tractors.

I grab my bag and carry it to my car. When

I go back to say goodbye I cant find him

anywhere. Someone points me towards the

tractors hes already loading them up.

Another day, another load. This time,

destination unknown. Loneliness guaranteed.

Every sport has its rules, rewards and in-juries. Trane-sport, too.

Arriewarrie, Sakkie.

ONTHE WEBTo see more photos from Ernss road

tripin Kammiesberg,visit www.gomag.co.za


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LIFE ON THE ROAD

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