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February 2007 Rig of the Month
By John White and Terri Dreger
Never completely ready when the first units pull in; I looked up
to see a big blue Kenworth with a tanker pulling onto the grounds
at Race City for the Alberta Big Rig Weekend. It was the first
truck trailer unit to arrive and as soon as it was guided into
place, two boys and a young lady jumped out of a car and pulling
out ladders, started polishing. That was my first glimpse of this
very tight knit family. Dale and Judy Dreger and their two sons,
Tim and Trevor and Trevor’s girlfriend Candace, went to work with a
vengeance. Laughing and teasing they made every inch of that unit
sparkle. They were a joy to be around, always smiling and laughing
- I’m sure they made many new friends that weekend.
This is Dale’s story:
“Haven’t you got trucking out of your blood yet?” My
well-meaning and loving mother always hoped I would, “get it out of
my system,” but trucking has always remained a big part of my fifty
four years…
I was born in Grande Prairie, Alberta. My father was a
minister and we moved to various locations in Alberta and British
Columbia while I was growing up. When I was 12 years old, Dad took
a church in rural Leduc, Alberta. Fortunately for me, this was
close to my Uncle Cyril and he introduced me to his pick-ups, grain
trucks, tractors and combines. This gave me enough experience
to work for local farmers. At an early age, I learned to love
equipment and the bigger, the better.
My first memorable trucking experience was when I was 15 and
Orville Radis, a member of our country church, was hauling black
dirt for the church ball diamond. He invited me to come along in
his 1962 Dodge 800 tandem with a 5 and 4 transmission and he even
let me haul two loads of dirt myself!
As soon as I was old enough, I got my driver’s license and when
I was 17 I went to work on Gordon Kern’s farm for the summer. He
had a 1958 Ford single axle gas powered tractor that I used for
hauling straw and hay around. I figured I had the world by the
tail! When I turned 18, I finally got my Class A which allowed me
to drive tractor trailer.
Like many guys my age, after High School I wanted to go into the
Oil Patch. My parents were less enthusiastic and strongly
encouraged me to get a trade instead so I began a Heavy Duty
Mechanic apprenticeship at R. Angus (now Finning Tractor) in
Edmonton. At the start of my third year, I was bucked off a
horse and broke one leg and got blood clots in the other. Doctors
told me I would never be able to stand for long periods of time,
especially on concrete. That meant I had to do a major overhaul on
my career plans.
I started trucking (what I had always wanted to do) when I moved
to Creston, B.C. and began hauling fuel for the Texaco bulk dealer.
That was where I met my wife and I actually proposed to her in the
old Fargo delivery truck. She had agreed to come with me while I
was delivering to a logging site off the old Salmo Creston Highway.
The view up there was fantastic and I knew she would love the
scenery but we ran into an unexpected snowstorm and there was
nothing to see but snow flakes, and lots of them, the wipers had a
hard time keeping up.
Deciding to turn around, I stopped to take off the chains and
jumped out of the cab. When I climbed back in to drive off the
chains, I turned to Judy and asked her to marry me. I had planned
to pop the question at the summit with the spectacular scenery all
around us but I wasn’t going to let a snowstorm spoil my plans.
Giving her time to make a decision, I jumped out to hang the chains
back on the chain racks. I got back into the cab to hear Judy say,
“yes” and I still don’t know if she thought that was the only way
off the mountain. We were married in August 1973.
I hauled gas for about a year and then went to work for Huscroft
Sawmill, feeding the mill with a loader. When I wasn’t working I
would make trips with the logging truck drivers, eventually getting
a Class 1 with air ticket.
In the summer of 1975, I made a decision to go into the
ministry. I knew I wanted my life to count for God and was not sure
what career path to choose. So Judy and I moved to Edmonton and I
enrolled in a Five year Bachelor of Theology program at North
American Baptist College.
Every summer I hauled gravel for my initial mentor, Orville
Radis. We ran Macks and in my 4th year, Orville helped
me buy my first truck. It was a 1977 4300 with a 13 speed and I
pulled a 30 foot end dump. I had contemplated quitting school and
going trucking full-time but Orville encouraged me to finish
college. I listened to this wise man and sold the truck at the end
of that season. I graduated in 1980 and began pasturing at a little
country church south of Edmonton, Rabbit Hill Baptist Church. I was
there 4 ½ years and during that time our first 2 children, Tim and
Terri, were born. I often combined visiting church members with
running their farm equipment, like Ron Stelter’s New Holland TR 95
Combine.
In the winter of 1982, I bought a 1979 W900B Kenworth with a
60-inch bunk. The engine had a 430 Detroit diesel, commonly known
as the green leaker, and it didn’t run! (I got a good deal on
it!) I hauled it to a friend’s shop and a buddy, Ray Hein,
who I had apprenticed with at Angus, rebuilt the engine. We put in
a V12 pump and 110 injectors and the truck was putting 390 HP to
the ground. It was good for hauling whatever was on the
trailer and I ran it part-time hauling light oil field for Ken
Hiller.
On one trip I took a load of drill stem into Conklin, north of
Lac LaBiche and then headed back about mid-morning. I was tired and
driving too fast on an icy road, totally unaware that my jake brake
was on. When I took my foot off the throttle, the jake kicked in,
and before I knew it, I was checking my trailer lights from inside
the cab of my truck. In other words, I jackknifed and ended
up in the ditch. There was little damage to the truck but I emerged
a much humbler driver.
I enjoyed my years as the Pastor at Rabbit Hill but I still
wanted to try trucking full time so in June 1984, I resigned from
Rabbit Hill. We moved to Nelson, B.C. where I began working for
West Arm Trucklines doing flat deck work. We hauled lumber to both
Vancouver and Calgary and brought drywall and other building
products back into the interior of B.C. On rare occasions we would
pull a low boy, hauling equipment.
While there, this prairie boy got a very valuable education,
mountain driving on Highway 3. The construction of the Coquihalla
was just starting and I was called to load a 966 Cat Loader in
Crawford Bay to go to Merritt. Just before Osoyoos, at Anachist
Summit, I stopped at the brake check. It had been snowing, a wet
and heavy snow. I contemplated chaining up to drop into Osoyoos but
lack of experience won out over good judgment and I started down
without chains. I “tobogganed,” meaning the wheels were not
keeping up with the speed of the truck. To get out of this
predicament I had to accelerate to get the wheels turning as fast
as the truck was going. At the Look Out switchback (a slow to 20
km, 90 degree corner), I knew I wouldn’t make it. I recall starting
to open my door to be ready to jump out at the last minute. I was
praying for a miracle. A few hundred feet above the corner, the
snow turned to rain and the brakes held and I was able to negotiate
the corner. It was the grace of God that got me off that mountain –
not my driving skills.
In April of 1985, when fuelling up in Castlegar, a stranger made
me an offer on my truck I didn’t think I should refuse. In the past
I found these off-the-wall experiences were often ways God
communicated to me. Judy and I now had three children (Trevor had
arrived in March) and I had little time at home with my family so I
got to thinking that perhaps, I should see if there was a church
needing a pastor.
By June 1985, I was pastoring a church in the Crowsnest Pass.
While in Blairmore, I stayed in touch with many truckers, including
the gregarious, comical Dwight “Rosie” LaRose, who kept my shifting
skills in tune. Rosie and I shared a memorable road trip down to
the States, loading apples in Yakima, Washington, bound for
Toronto. At the Yakima scales we were pulled in for a weight and
log book check. I was at the wheel but I shouldn’t have been - I
was just a ride along. I didn’t have a US medical and hadn’t
started a logbook. I was only driving to give Rosie a much-needed
break. The DOT officer met us outside the scale for the logbook
check, and with Rosie in the bunk; I knew I was in for it.
Rosie handed me his medical card and logbook with the DOT officer
at the window. Just as I was handing the book to the officer,
Rosie yanked it back and shouted, “Not that one!”
The DOT officer eyed us up skeptically knowing we were less than
legal. He told us he could throw us both in jail but he was closing
the scale in 5 minutes and suggested we high tail it out of there.
I peeled out of there in a cloud of dust, still at the wheel,
thanking the Lord for again getting me out of a potentially
troublesome situation.
1988 was a tough year. I had a nervous breakdown and resigned
from the pastorate. I moved back to the Edmonton area where I was
confident I had enough contacts that I would be able to provide for
my family. For the first winter, I hauled grain then I made contact
with Orville Radis again. He hired me to haul freight for Air
Canada between Edmonton and Calgary. It was all night shift work
and I soon found that I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t sleep during
the day and due to fatigue I had numerous unnerving experiences
that spooked me. I remember going through Bowden one night on the
way to Edmonton, thinking I should stop at the Petrocan in Red Deer
for coffee. The next thing I remember is going past the Petrocan in
Red Deer, a distance of about 50 kilometres. It was then that I
knew the night shift was not for me.
I went to work for AVS Tanklines hauling chemicals with
predominantly super B’s from Edmonton to places in Western Canada.
Sometimes you have to do something to break the monotony and one
buddy and I were always joking around. When hauling for AVS in the
mid nineties we would stop in small towns for breaks and those big
shiney tankers really stood out so we would invariably be asked
what we were hauling. My buddy, Ted Winterhalt, and I would always
like to string them along. At that time we were hauling
formaldehyde which was used to coat the granulated fertilizer to
keep the dust down and prevent explosions.
The conversations would go something like this:
“What are you guys hauling?”
“Formaldehyde.”
“Embalming fluid?”
“Yep, we deliver to funeral homes.”
“They have tanks that big at funeral homes?”
“No we just pump it into drums for them.”
“Oh, I see.”
On one trip we pulled into the Husky in Davidson, Saskatchewan,
which is an hour south of Saskatoon. An older gentleman, about
seventy some odd years old, watched us park and then came over and
asked what we were hauling.
“Viagra”, Ted said without missing a beat.
“That sex stuff?” the fellow asked
“Yep,” says Ted, “two tankers full.”
“Well where do you take it to,” the old guy asked, looking quite
anxious to get this information.
“We take it to the hospital and they dispense it from
there.”
“I’ve never seen tankers like that at the hospital.”
“No and you won’t either, we unload underground.”
By this time it was all I could do to keep a straight face and I
had to turn and walk away before I lost it completely.
Unfortunately my stress level was still very high and I was worn
out and trigger-angry in too many situations so I quit AVS in
December 1995. I went to the doctor and he diagnosed me with
chemical depression. My body was totally out of sync, not knowing
whether to eat, sleep, work or play. My family walked around the
house on eggshells. My days were spent reading, sleeping, and
riding my daughter’s horse, Jymme, accompanied by the family
dog. It was difficult for me to admit the doctor was right
and I needed anti-depression medication. He helped Judy and I
discover that I had suffered from depression at other times in my
life but we had not understood it. The sacrificial love of my
family kept me together through it all and it took six months
before I called a friend who had a gravel business working for the
County of Leduc. He hired me to run one of his gravel trucks.
In February of 2000, my former AVS Tanklines employer, Jim
Stieb, called me with a business proposition. He gave me a
great opportunity to buy the truck that I presently own with
nothing down and a promise of work for my 1995 long-nose Kenworth.
I stayed three years. During this time I saw the business grow and
we were getting busier and busier. I saw myself getting caught up
in the hectic pace again. Long hauls, not enough sleep, poor eating
habits, and not enough time at home played havoc with my body. I
was getting overtired and when I get overtired, my stress level
goes up. I began to see the handwriting on the wall and I knew it
would be best for all concerned if I moved on. I went to work for
Cliff Schultz Trucking as a lease operator doing van work where the
pace was slower and somewhat more predictable.
In March of 2004, I was considering replacing my truck with
something newer but I determined the best decision would be to
rebuild it instead. In August of 2004 we started in earnest with
Sunset Diesel rebuilding the engine that had 1.7 million kilometres
on it. At the same time we pumped up the horsepower from the
original 455 to 500. We didn’t stop with the engine. We rebuilt the
thirteen-speed transmission, the rear ends, turbo and air to air to
name a few things. All this time I kept it working full time. We
finished in June of 2006, culminating with a new paint job at Eckel
Extreme. Now it was time to show it off. With unending dedication,
patience, and work from my family, friends, and associates we
entered my truck, the Heavenly Holler, in the Alberta Big Rig Truck
Show in August 2006. We won Second for Best Paint and Second in
Truck Trailer Combo.
This story has a happy ending. Through my struggles, I have
learned to truck to live, not live to truck. I presently work for
Gary Jaeb Transport. I have worked for some incredible men in this
industry and Gary is second to none. I pull a tandem air ride
tanker hauling chemicals to Drayton Valley and Grande Prairie. This
schedule allows me to devote more time to the most important things
in my life, my wife of over 30 years and our wonderful children,
who supported my dream and encouraged me to bring the Heavenly
Holler to Calgary in August of 2006.
I would like to recognize various businesses and people who have
helped in this rebuilding project:
Sunset Diesel; West End Truck and Trailer; Artic Gear;
Eckel Extreme and Darren Eckel who laid the paint down; Blaine
Baxter, heavy truck mechanic; Ron Kozial, a friend who shared both
his expertise and extremely well-equipped shop; Matt Self, airbrush
artist of the ghost flames and Lyle from Southside Signs.
Another fellow, Kim Wiley, the owner of an immaculate 1977 long
nose Kenworth and the Rig of the Month for April 2005, unknowingly
has been the inspiration for my truck and its restoration. If he
can keep a 30-year-old truck looking like his does, there’s nothing
I can’t do with the Heavenly Holler. Last but not least, Gord
Cooper, the pilot of The Smokin’ Gun, and a friend who for years
has encouraged me to come to the Big Rig Show. It was all he said
it would be and more.
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