During my early years with the carnival and Conklin Shows, they had me drive a truck and trailer between locations. I made my first trip from Edmonton Klondike Days to Regina Buffalo Days in 1977. I thought I was helping out, but little did I know that when I actually pulled onto the midway in Regina and made the trip without incident that I would become labelled a “truck driver.” I spent the next 14 years behind the wheel between locations – most of those years in a Ford Straight Job (known as fleet number 848) – with the Star Dart game trailer in tow.
On my way to the Canadian National Exhibition in 1983 from Regina Buffalo Days, I round the corner in Thunder Bay to find the weight station open, so I wheel in Ole 848 across the scale and at the conclusion of the weighting the light flashes indicating that I am to report to the office. I pull over the truck and proceed to the office with the necessary papers in hand.
Inside Mr. Head Inspector does not seem like he is having a very good day and sends me with another Inspector to check the mechanical condition of Ole 848. About a half hour later we return and I pass the mechanic inspection. Mr. Head Inspector now asks for the insurance, registration and my licence, which I readily provide. He examines my documents and looks up at me with that glaring look of disdain and says: “Son, this licence is no good for this truck and trailer; you need a Class 3 licence to drive a load with this gross vehicle weight.” I had been driving in Ontario for seven years and provided my licence to inspectors numerous times and never before had I come across this issue. I ask Mr. Head Inspector what I have to do to keep rolling down the road – he replies: “Well, Son, as long as I’m at this scale and you have that licence, that truck is not going to leave this lot.” Bewildered, I ask if I can take the truck, but leave the trailer and he agrees.
I head into town and stop at the gas station to ask where the drivers’ examination board is. I get the directions and head on over. Inside the examination place I register to write my Class 3 Ontario Driver’s Licence. I wait about an hour and write the written test and wait another half hour to find out that I passed. Next the woman behind the counter tells me that I need a medical and I ask her to direct me to the medical clinic. I drive Ole 848 over to the medical clinic and the whole medical process takes over two hours. With my medical in hand, I head back to the driver examination place.
Next the lady behind the counter tells me that now I need to do my driving test and the next opening is in a week and a half. Again, I’m bewildered. I sit in the waiting area trying to figure out what I’m going to do next. Again, I approach the lady behind the counter and ask if she has a cancellation today if I could take that spot. She says that I can take the spot but assures me that she rarely has a cancellation. So now I’m hanging around the check-in counter like a bad smell and finally a Class 1 driver comes in for his examination. I butt in and ask the would-be driver if he would take a $100.00 and come back in a week and a half to do his test. The guy’s eyes pop out of his head looking at the $100.00 and we have a deal.
I say to the lady behind the counter: “We have a cancellation here; can I take his spot?” She can’t believe it and slots me in to do the driving test.
I meet the examiner at Old 848 and we do the truck inspection, then we drive around town for a bit. Then he has me drive up and down the highway for a while and back to the examination center where we turn some corners and back up for a short period. I pull back into the parking space and he asks me to wait in the waiting room back in the office, not telling me if I passed or failed.
I wait anxiously for about another half hour until my name is called when I approach the same lady behind the counter. She opens her folder and hands me a new licence, with my name, address, date of birth and most important under Class was the number 3. She has me sign the licence and sends me on my way.
I head back out to the scale and inside the office is Mr. Head Inspector. I approach the counter and open my wallet to present my shiny new Class 3 driver’s licence. Mr. Head Inspector is stunned. I ask if I may leave now and he gives me the still stunned look and nods yes.
Little over six hours and $208.00 later, I’m back in Ole 848 heading out of Thunder Bay on my way to the Canadian National Exhibition.
