How One Trucker Driver is Dispelling The Stereotypes Surrounding his Chosen Profession

There are unfair stereotypes in every occupation. As a truck driver, John Lynch seems to defy them all.

The tall, slim man rarely, if ever, wears a hat. Even while operating his blue 2000 Kenworth tractor, he speaks of his days as a telecommunications engineer in California. He has a college degree in engineering with an emphasis in nuclear physics. He lives in a nice California neighborhood with a wife and family.

Lynch says truckers aren't the worst hurt by the stereotypes.

"There are a lot of stereotypes about fat, bald drivers," he says. "Yeah, it hurts us, but it mostly hurts the industry."

Lynch is an owner-operator truck driver at Cargill Transportation. Right now he has six trucks in his fleet, including tractor No. 3002-- the one he and his co-driver, Clea Solano, take around the country hauling loads of Cargill beef. Although he loves to drive, Lynch admits trucking isn't for everyone.

"It's very labor-intensive, so not many English-speaking drivers want to drive these days," he says. "So they're out getting other jobs."

But Lynch is different. He's had those other jobs. Now it's time to continue seeing the world, both in the truck and out. In his spare time, he's managed to get his passport stamped in almost every country, except a couple places in Central and South America.

"I like to travel," he adds. "I'm very eccentric in that way."

But traveling in a truck has its own eccentricies.

"I really can't sleep in a moving vehicle for more than an hour at a time," Lynch says, and laughs. "So that's when Clea drives."

Solano drives every five hours for Lynch, so they can take turns sleeping. The slender, long-haired woman says a shift in the sleeper-- a pair of beds in the back of a tractor's cab-- takes some getting used to.

"It bounces up and down when you're bobtailing, driving without a trailer," she says. "With a trailer, you just go back and forth."

Solano, a former bus operator, is Lynch's temporary co-driver. Lynch says he's letting her learning the ropes as a co-driver before going solo as a full-time truck operator. It's a bit of a rare arrangement, but the co-ed team agrees it's also a friendly one.

"As co-drivers, we get along real well, which is rare," Lynch says, as Solano nods along beside him. "And that's because we're not involved in any way. We call each other when we get loads, but we have our own separate lives. After the load's dropped off, we go home to a wife or husband."

The team gets home about every two weeks, and gets to stay there for a week. But this amount of time depends on the driver's experience on the road.

"The more you make, the more you can afford to be at home," Lynch says. Out on the road, a modern truck stop can be the next best thing to home, Lynch says as he pulls into the Newell Truck Stop in Newton, Kan.

"I call Newell a 'classic' truck stop," he says. "It has a restaurant and motel rooms, back from the days before trucks had sleepers."

He drives past fuel pumps and a large garage area where truckers can get their tractors and trailers washed. Lynch parks his blue Kenworth at the end of a long row of different-colored tractors. It's quite a long way to the door of the truck stop from the lot, but he does this on purpose.

"I'll tell you why drivers have weight problems," he says, making the long step from the cab to the ground. "Nowadays, there are lumpers [hired workers] to load and unload the trucks, power steering and A/C. The job was more physical before, so you had to be in good shape."

Stepping into Newell, drivers are confronted with a variety of choices. Straight ahead stands a row of chairs for old-fashioned shoeshines, slot machines and a sign advertising massages for $20. Through a glass window, items in a large grocery and supply store can be seen. Lynch and Solano turn right, into the truck stop's attached restaurant, and sit down in a corner booth.

"A lot of the newer truck stops just have fast-food restaurants, but those are 'C and P' stops... 'Choke and Puke,'" Solano explains, laughing.

She says drivers often go to the same places each trip to stop for food and fuel. They are no different.

"John prefers Petro," Solano adds. "They have actual restaurants."
As much as the trucking industry has changed, places like Newell are a bit nostalgic. Phones still sit at the tables so drivers could call home in pre-cell phone days. A waitress can bring you a "man-sized" portion of roast beef au jus with fries for $5.99. There is always plenty of time to eat.

"I always try to get [to the shipping destination] eight hours before unloading," Lynch says. "[Truckers] have plenty of time to eat, sleep, take showers... do all those things."

Showering at a truck stop is a lot different than the crowded locker room stereotype so often portrayed in movies. Now, all a driver has to do is get a key at the front desk for his or her own motel-style, private shower room.

There are even arcades, pay phones and inexpensive Internet stations nearby to further unwind by. And before you leave, a stop at the truck stop store should get you in shape to hit the road again. Newell's has everything from snakeskin boots to leather steering wheel covers to oatmeal energy bars. You can't go just anywhere when you're pulling a trailer.

"We can't stop at Kmart, you know, so these places have everything we need," Lynch explains.

Before they take off, Solano buys some chilled cappuccinos to put in the truck cab's mini-fridge.

They stocked up just in time. On the way back to Wichita, their next load from dispatch comes across the truck's e-mail system. Next stop-- U.S. Food Service in Santa Ana, Calif. From there, the team can part ways back to their spouses and families out West until another load needs delivery.

Five days ago, they were headed to Milwaukee on a different load. Now, from Wichita, Lynch and Solano are once again headed back toward home.