Every day we get stuck behind trucks, curse them and overtake them, but

what 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

ts just after 4 pm 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 50 km inland from Durban. Next stop,
a co-op in Bloemfontein about 650 km away.
Then well turn around and drive all the
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, he
does it. No time to lose.
Our cargo is not for sissies: the whole lot
truck and load weighs 47 500 kg.
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 was Over the Top, the
1980s truck-driving-arm-wrestling movie
starring Sylvester Stallone, or maybe its the

100 go! January 2012

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 call up any truck driver
and ask for a ride, though. So how did I nd
Sakkie? It all started with a popular late-night
radio show called Siele 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 ashes their headlights.
You wouldnt believe how many cars challenge this hulk of iron, Sakkie says. Where
do they want me to drive? Truck drivers also
have feelings, you know.

Reading the road

We 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 ask with
coffee, a few bananas, a container full of ginger
biscuits, bottles of avoured water and an
assortment of sweets. Sakkies bed is behind
our seats. The faded duvet has a ower 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 at. If my at 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 >

CABIN COFFEE (right). Sakkie never pulls over for Wimpy

coee. He makes his own special blend: a spoon of Ricoy,
a spoon of Milo, a pinch of Epsom salts and sweetener.

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go! January 2012 101

LOAD AND GO. Cato Ridge, about 50 km outside Durban on

the N3, is like a harbour for trucks. Several companies store
goods here and trucks stop every day to ll up with 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 Kammiesberg gives you 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 ts like an old shoe.

Diesel in the veins

Sakkie 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 ies by.
Its also an unpredictable job. Sakkie seldom
knows where his next load will take him: one
day its Standerton; the next, Cape Town.

102 go! January 2012

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, full
of enthusiasm. His conversations are littered
with wisecracks and he often res 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 depot
in 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 song

Its 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 and
ninth gear. Always, the same story.
He has made lots of friends through the
Siele op Wiele radio 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, where
Im hoping to take a leak at the roadworks
leading up to the village.

LIFE ON THE ROAD

SPIC N SPAN. Sakkie likes his truck neat and tidy,

without unnecessary frills. If the windscreen is dirty he
pulls over and cleans it himself.

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 a
few slices of brown bread; no butter.
A motorist behind us ashes 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 flesh

Near 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,
www.gomag.co.za

A woman eats your

money and moans
about everything,
but this truck gives
you money and
works harder than a
donkey. When you
turn the ignition
key, it says, Kom pa,
lets go.

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,
>
go! January 2012 103

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 between
Creedence 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 we spot the lights of
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-andgo 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 load

I wake up at 5.30 am. Sakkie is already busy,

ofoading the tractors. Workshop manager
Andries van Schalkwyk is surprised to see
Sakkie in Bloemfontein again so soon.
The tractors are now in his care, Sakkie
says as he guides Kammiesberg back onto the
highway. Today well drive back to Durban
the same 650 km 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, says
the 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 nd 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 injuries. Trane-sport, too.
Arriewarrie, Sakkie.
104 go! January 2012

SIGN ON THE DOTTED LINE (top). Sakkie and Andries van

Schalkwyk, the workshop manager in Bloemfontein, ll in
the necessary forms.
IN SAFE HANDS. A truck driver doesnt just sit behind the
wheel; the loading of goods is also his responsibility (right).
Its hard work, as Sakkies worn gloves can testify (middle).
FOOD FOR THOUGHT (bottom). Sakkies staple food on the
road is bread and tinned spaghetti, and he always has a can
of Brut in the cabin.

ON THE WEB

To see more photos from Ernss road

trip in Kammiesberg, visit www.gomag.co.za

LIFE ON THE ROAD

www.gomag.co.za

go! January 2012 105