sts: all nerves and hot flushes. perience was no different
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for deputy news editor. Miles II spent 10 nerve-wracking at Roadtrain's Essex centre ing for the big day...
ometimes, in a quiet moment when I close my eyes, I can still hear my driving instructor calmly saying: "Straighten the wheels, check the mirrs and cancel the signal." The fact that it is a month nce I completed my training and I'm still hearing his ice indicates just how stressful it was to take the test. is without doubt one of the hardest things I have er done.
Once in receipt of the provisional licence following medical and eye sight test, I set off for Roadtrain's dquarters at Truckworld under the Dartford crossg in Purfleet, Essex. As I drove in at the appointed ur of 07:00hrs, it rather ominously started to snow. Truckworld can be one of the coldest spots in the untry. The wind whistles straight up the Thames from e North Sea and can chill a man learning the pleares of coupling and uncoupling trailers to the bone. rice introduced to Trevor, my instructor and the man ith whom I would spend every waking hour for the ext ten days, and several fortifying cups of tea later, I as shown the truck Roadtrain had just bought the Daf 2500 tractor and is, coupled to a 40ft skeletal trailer, was to be my strument of torture. Trevor showed me how to make full inspection of the vehicle but owing to the temperture outside, we quickly set off. I'd driven several ucks before at CM Ride and Drive days, so I knew a e of what to expect in terms of split gearboxes and e like, but driving on busy roads was an altogether ifferent proposition.
Trevor's only instruction before we hit the road was: hen I say stop, and you will know by the tone of my ice that I mean it, make sure you do so." Purfleet is covered in truck depots which has the dvantage that most of the roads are wide enough for rries, but with the disadvantage that you are likely to eet another truck going the opposite way. It takes a while to get used to two trucks passing ch other safely. Until you do, it can be a bit of a test f nerve. It may sound obvious, but the other factor u have to get used to is the sheer length of the vehie. Trevor reassured me that all trainees went up the dd kerb at the beginning, a fact borne out by watch g others negotiating the same bends and making the me mistakes. By the end of the first day I had unched the gearbox 50 times, thrown everyone forard as I braked too hard 30 times and been up 15 rbstones. It could only get better. With the second day came reversing and coupling. e LGV test includes demonstrating you can reverse set procedure that simply as to se earne an I didn't find this bit too difficult; in fact I quite enjoyed it. As the week progressed a pattern started to form, Up at the crack of dawn and driving by 08:00hrs. By 10:30hrs, the trainees (you are trained in pairs) swap over, take a healthy breakfast and, in Trevor's case, stock up with chocolate. By 17:00hrs, and after a hard day's driving, we crawled home for another early night. By the end of the first week I was getting the hang of it. Trevor was having to say less, leaving me to drive as he pointed out mistakes. I had got to the stage where I knew what I should be doing and it was just a matter of applying that knowledge. Second week, and the pressure started to mount. The test was booked for Friday and I could no longer put off tackling the Highway Code in the evenings. Each morning's driving saw a gradual improvement and I was soon down to just two kerbs a day. Trevor started saying encouraging words to build confidence and continued munching chocolate as only he can. Finally, the day of reckoning. After about the best sleep of the whole two weeks I arrived to eat a nervous bacon sandwich whispering the coupling procedure "mantra" between mouthfuls.
The tension was unbearable. After a terrible drive to the centre and 10 minutes pacing round the car park I was introduced to the head examiner at Purfleet Testing Centre. After probably the worst reverse I had ever completed and the emergency stop, we were out on the road. All was going well and I started to relax, as much as you can while you are trying to drive a heavy truck perfectly for an hour. Just as I pulled, as directed, into the outside lane to turn right, a customised van with smoked glass windows screamed up behind me flashing its lights. I saw it half way out but carried on, forcing it to slow down. As I looked nervously over at the examiner he avoided my gaze but silently put the failing cross in the relevant box. The rest of the test went without incident but I knew it had all been in vain.
Trevor was understanding, but the sense of disappointment was all pervading: "Don't worry," he said. "You're good enough—we'll get you another test next week." The drive back to London was slow while I contemplated getting a vigilante group together and going after anyone in a customised van in Essex. A week later and it was a completely different story. Again I had a terrible drive to the centre but this time it all went to plan. The examiner took me on an unknown route but, despite the odd missed gear, the drive was fine. When he told me I had passed I felt a burst of elation but, most of all, incredible relief.
The fact that I've become quite tense even writing this report is an example of how nerve racking it was. Roadtrain, and Trevor in particular, were great. His enthusiasm was incredible, and he always managed to strike just the right balance between encouragement and criticism: probably the toughest job as a trainer. Thanks must also go to Nick Smith and all the Roadtrain team for their help. Anyhow, all the hest drivers pass second time, don't they Trevor?