THE TRUCK THAT BUILT AMERICA

Camp Soapbox | JR Elrod

Your Camp Counselor here.

It is story time, so grab your coffee and pull up the nearest stump.

Yesterday I was driving from home to Texarkana, Texas, listening to Charles Gracey’s SiriusXM show. He had John Cantera on, and as always, when those two get together, it turned into a lively conversation.

After John’s segment wrapped up, Charles asked a simple question that has been rattling around in my head ever since.

I drove the rest of the way to Texarkana thinking about it.

I went to bed thinking about it.

And this freaking earworm would not leave me alone.

The question was simple.

What would happen if trucks had never existed?

Now I do not mean if we all decided to stop hauling freight tomorrow.

And I do not mean if a bunch of aliens came down, snapped their little flippers, and every truck on Earth suddenly disappeared.

I mean what if trucks had never existed in the first place?

Think about that for a minute.

Not one pickup.

Not one straight truck.

Not one semi.

Not one dump truck.

Nothing.

How would your grocery store get stocked?

How would hospitals get medicine?

How would farmers get their crops to market?

How would your local hardware store keep its shelves stocked?

The more I thought about it, the more questions I had.

I have spent nearly thirty years in trucking, and I realized something yesterday. I know a lot about this industry, but I have never really stopped to ask how we got here.

When was the first truck built?

Who built it?

What did people use before trucks?

How did one invention end up changing the way America moved?

Well, that is exactly what we are going to find out.

Oh, just so you folks know, it has been a while since I have published any Camp Soapbox articles.

The truth is, most of what has been on my mind lately has been doom and gloom. I just was not in the mood to write another one.

Then yesterday, Charles Gracey asked a simple question on his SiriusXM show that got my wheels turning again.

So Charles, thank you for the idea. I hope I do your question justice.

Now sit back, relax, and hold on to something.

I am about to switch on my time machine, and together we are going to take a trip all the way back to the beginning.

WOOP… WOOP… WOOP… WOOP…

“I’m sorry, but there is no room at the inn. You’re welcome to stay out in the stable.”

Easy there, JR.

Wrong stop.

Dang it… I set the Flux Capacitor too far back.

Hang on just a second…

There.

Now let’s see if I can get us to the right year.

The year is 1776.

America is fighting for its independence.

George Washington has recently taken command of the Continental Army.

America is not even a country yet.

Now take a slow look around.

There are no paved highways.

No railroads.

No airplanes.

No diesel engines.

No eighteen-wheelers rolling down the interstate.

In fact, there is not a single truck anywhere in the world.

If you wanted to move a load from Philadelphia to Boston, you did not call a trucking company.

You hitched up a team of horses.

That was it.

Your freight moved only as fast as those horses could walk.

If one went lame, your freight stopped.

If a wagon wheel broke, your freight stopped.

If heavy rains turned the road into a sea of mud, your freight stopped.

If a bridge washed out, your freight stopped.

Weather was not an inconvenience.

It was the boss.

The farther I traveled back in time, the more I realized something.

People in 1776 did not know they had a transportation problem.

You cannot miss something that has not been invented yet.

To them, this was simply the way the world worked.

Come on.

Climb up here beside me on the wagon seat.

Do not worry, there is plenty of room.

Now, before we get going, I should probably warn you about one thing.

There are no air bags.

There is no air ride.

No shock absorbers.

No power steering.

No cruise control.

No heated seats.

And I am pretty sure the warranty expired a long time ago.

Ready?

Good.

Let’s head for Boston.

The horses lean into their harnesses, and the wagon groans as the wooden wheels begin to roll.

Within the first hundred yards, you understand why nobody is in a hurry.

Every rock feels like it is trying to knock your teeth loose.

Every rut jerks the wagon from one side of the road to the other.