It’s not oversimplifying things to say the pressures that cause truck drivers to quit their job really are issues that pertain most to the long-haul truckload sector of our industry. The very nature of the business demands that drivers work longer hours, be away from home for longer periods, and lay over whenever necessary to wait for a load.

It wasn’t always this way. Fifty years ago, regional carriers dominated the landscape. Their routes and rates were regulated. Their trucks were small. The roads were terrible. If freight needed to go a long distance, it went over the rails, no questions asked.

So much has changed since then. Government no longer determines your routes and rates. The trucks are comfortable and efficient. North America is a spider’s web of four-lane highways. And the railroads struggled to meet more demanding standards for service. When people in California want fresh Maine lobsters, the truckers deliver.

Everything seemed to fall into place nicely except the human resources piece of the puzzle. All of a sudden drivers were running away from home for weeks and had to accept it as a career.

Now, while the rest of North America toils away on a 40-hour week, truck drivers are expected to work 60 or more. Paid by the mile, and not wanting to waste time at a dock or a truck stop, they’re motivated by necessity to keep the wheels moving. It’s no wonder long-haul carriers have such a hard time attracting and retaining truck drivers. People don’t want to work to 1930s-era labour standards. They want to be treated fairly. And, in the absence of spectacular pay, they want to sleep in their own beds and eat home-cooked meals.

Maybe the long-haul carrier industry should look back even further, to 1860, and take some lessons from the Pony Express.

The fabled horseback mail service was based on a system of relays. It had 160 stations between St. Joseph, Mo. — at the time, the westernmost point for both the railroad and the telegraph — and Sacramento, Calif.

Communication with California was critical back then. The federal government feared the state would side with the Confederacy in the American Civil War, and, until a telegraph line could be strung, there was no speedy way of delivering information about the goings-on back East. Mail normally took about a month by stagecoach, and at least that by boat.

The directors of the Central Overland California and Pikes Peak Express Co. told the U.S. Postal Service it could make the 2000-mile trip from St. Joseph to Sacramento in 10 days using horses.

The company’s Pony Express service commenced in March 1860 (without a firm contract, a fact that would contribute to the demise of the business 19 months later). Riders got a fresh mount every 10 to 15 miles, and new riders took over every 75 to 100 miles. (Even then, horses got better consideration than the riders.) Each rider rode for 10 hours, rested overnight, and returned home the next day.

Make no mistake, it was a demanding and dangerous job. A recruitment ad in a California newspaper read: “Wanted: young, skinny, wiry fellows. Not over 18. Must be expert riders. Willing to risk death daily. Orphans preferred.”

Initially, riders were paid $50 a month, plus room and board. This eventually rose to $125, with extra pay for dangerous routes. It wasn’t bad money, relative to the management of the operation. The five division superintendents at Pony Express received $90 per month each; station keepers and their men were paid from $50 to $100 per month.

Think relays can’t be done by truckload carriers today? Werner Enterprises, in Omaha, Neb., started switching some of its most dense freight lanes from sleeper operations to a relay system about two years ago. Each leg is based on a 10-hour day, with daily mileage targets of 500 miles. Drivers who want to be home every night go about 250 miles out and 250 back in another rig. And if they want to be gone longer periods, the company is happy to accommodate them.

This relay system differs from the hub-and-spoke operations of less-than-truckload carriers in that the tractor stays with the trailer; only the drivers change. A Werner tractor-trailer might make the trip from New York to Los Angeles in five or six relay moves involving five or six drivers, each behind the wheel only as long as he’s legally allowed.

The result? Truck productivity skyrockets because the vehicle is always on the move and it can carry more payload, since Werner uses lightweight day cab tractors for its relays. Driver recruitment is less of an issue because drivers are able to work more flexible schedules. Equipment resale is easier to manage, because there’s always a ready market for used day cab tractors in good condition, as opposed to the condo-style sleeper cabs languishing on sales lots today.

What Werner is doing represents a radical change in the way trucks distribute freight. But we need radical change, and we need it now, if we want to improve road safety and make trucking a career that will attract new entrants and provide the labour pool that we need to grow our industry. Long-haul trucking can no longer overlook the human side of the business of moving goods.

We should explore the possibility within reason for long-haul to run Werner-style relays or to co-operatively transport cargo from terminal to terminal and, where warranted, from carrier to carrier in order to get a load from coast to coast.

The benefit would be that all of these drivers would be home on weekends, get reasonable scheduled time off, and be working within a specific geographic area as opposed to being vagabonds as they are in some measure today.

Special thanks to George T. Fraser for his help and input on this pressing issue. I met George when he was director of safety and training at Brookville Transport in Saint John back in the early 1990s. He represented Axa Boreal Fleet Insurance for many years prior to semi-retiring and opening his own safety consulting business based in Brighton, Ont. You can reach him by e-mail at caperfca@sympatico.ca.

— with files from John Bendel