The trucking industry, according to many reports – both allegorical and factual – is an aging one. Truck drivers of old – the heroic, burly archetypes from the advent and heyday of the Eisenhower Interstate system – those figures that made up the substrates of fictional portrayals in shows like Movin’ On, and films such as Convoy, Any Which Way but Loose (with bare-knuckle fighting Clint Eastwood, and sidekick orangutan Clyde), and, of course, Stallone’s masterpiece Over the Top – are retiring. The barrel chest, pot belly, bearded, bubble vested, mesh ball capped symbolic image of the big rig carrier is fading. Folks equipped and eager to take the long haul – to see the nation on the open road tugging a 18 wheeler – are harder to come by, and as these mythic relics of Americana hung up the CB and dismounted from the cab, the industry has been hunting for drivers. In a June, USA Today article, Paul Davidson describes some of the hardships the industry is facing recently with potential candidates being drawn to other careers, and high turnover rates despite the stultifying economic climate.
Meet the Hoffmans. Eugene, a toolmaker and designer who had been in the manufacturing industry for the better part of a decade, and worked for a company that even afforded him and his wife Shelly a relocation opportunity to Switzerland for two and a half years. The couple relocated back to the United States about a year ago after their time abroad – a sojourn that had afforded them extensive time to tour the continents of Europe and Asia – and a return trip they took across the continental U.S. before resettling in their hometown of Cincinnati. Reentry proved short lived, as the grind wore on.
“Wake up unnaturally early, get ready and skip breakfast. Commute to work in traffic because the office and the neighborhood I prefer to live in are 30-45 minutes apart with traffic.” Eugene recalls of the monotonous dirge of work life.

Shelly, who holds a masters degree in mental health counseling, worked in a field akin to social work. The work itself was rewarding, though often frustrating. The pay, overall, afforded a modest apartment and amenities after student loan payments. Vacation time however was attenuated to a stifling 2 or 3 weeks a year, a difficult challenge for a couple who had caught a healthy strain of the travel bug. “We had been fortunate enough to do some extended travelling, and we had both done very well living out of suitcases, being away from home, and being in close proximity of each other for long periods of time,” he says. The nagging specter of trucking as a team might have been a distant, albeit subconscious thought.
Noticing Eugene’s dissatisfaction, Shelly jokingly suggested that he check out a truck driving school, and if it panned out, she might follow suit, with Roo, their dog in tow. Five grand, and three weeks later, Eugene was a possessor of a CDL, and was out doing training runs between Cleveland and Chicago. Six months later Shelly completed her training, and the couple teamed up on the road for US Xpress.
The sought after daily run, home at night routes were something the Hoffmans were not at all interested in – they were more into the idea of rolling out for three to six week stretches, crisscrossing the nation’s highways and byways as a team – a move that gave them priority in terms of company equipment. The Hoffmans reside in a sleeper cab, replete with kitchenette and bunks, taking turns at the helm, sleeping and resting per DOT regulations, and logging 4 to 6 thousand miles a week. “They find the loads and we run them, and we get paid by the mile (zip code to zip code). You keep them happy they will find better runs for you,” he describes.
So far the trucking couple have zigged and zagged the continental U.S. with routes ranging from Chicago to Atlanta, Dallas, El Paso, Phoenix, Los Angeles, curious runs in Boston, harrowing escapades in Brooklyn, and points in between. Logistically, a run might include an empty run to a city, then drop off and pick up in a destination city, and off again to yet another. Downtime affords the Hoffmans time to explore. Grab a bite in an obscure diner. Check out a roadside attraction. Sample local flavor in a small downtown area. Effectively delve into the soul of America.

With corporate accounts at Flying J and Pilot, the couple fills up their Freightliner once a day, to the tune of $600 a tank. The Flying J and Pilot stops also serve as commissaries for food, showers, truck maintenance equipment, and other amenities such as video sales and rental – truckers’ staples of books on tape – and even simple arcades and video lounges for general unwinding. US Xpress also sends out repairmen for any roadside breakdown. A flat tire, to something more serious – all covered. And on the road hazards are part of the gig, with “gators”, aptly named serrated sloughs of tire shreds littering the lanes – remnants of a former tire blowout posing a potential for a future blowout, or in the case of the Hoffmans – a dislodged brake line.
The remnants of their apartment have since been stowed in a rental storage unit, and the Hoffmans, with Roo, traverse the nation as a trucking team – perhaps harbingers of an emerging cohort of young couples hungry for travel, and eager to adapt to life in a new economy.