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Hauling a trailer full of wooden spindles along a tedious stretch of Iowa cow-and-corn country, Birgit Johnston can't help but admire the view from her new office.
"I'm surrounded by windows and sunshine, looking at some of the most beautiful countryside in the world," says Ms. Johnston, who earned a trucker's licence in April and now drives for Challenger, one of Canada's biggest trucking firms. "What could be better?"
Less than a year ago, the 49-year-old Simcoe, Ont., resident was staring at cubicle walls and withering under fluorescent lights. As an engineering technician for Stelco, she worked in a windowless office for eight hours a day.
The last of her four grown children had recently left for college. After work, she'd bring a gloomy mixture of stress and tedium home to her husband.
But last year, Ms. Johnston caught a break: She got laid off.
With her experience, it would have been easy enough to find technician work elsewhere, but Ms. Johnston was ready for a big career change. A big-rig career change.
Across North America, baby boomers are abandoning office chairs and climbing into truck cabs. The number of drivers 50 and over at Schneider National, North America's biggest trucking firm, has increased by 46 per cent since 2005, and they now make up one-third of the company's 15,000 drivers. In a report last month, the Canadian Trucking Human Resources Council found that two-thirds of new truck drivers are 35 or older and taking up trucking as a second career.
"If you look at the demographics of a perfect driver, it's someone who's close to 50," says Brian Danjaw, head of recruiting for Schneider National's Canadian fleet. "Young people with families, we can't take them away from home for very long. With baby boomers, you're more likely to get someone with an empty nest and a strong constitution."
What's driving these former desk jockeys to pursue second careers on the open road? Ever since Burt Reynolds first donned a cowboy hat for Smokey and the Bandit, the 1977 comedy centred on a tractor-trailer delivering bootleg beer, a certain romance has cloaked the life of the rough-and-tumble trucker.
A few things have changed since then. The wages, for one: Today, a new driver can earn up to $80,000 a year - no bootlegging needed. Depending on the work, truckers can earn anywhere from 25 to 95 cents for each mile of road they cover.
"The pay is definitely decent," says Tom Nock, 47, who went from managing supply and distribution at Rogers Communications to a second career behind the wheel two years ago. "For someone willing to put in a lot of long-haul miles, there's no end to what you could make."
And with a range of gizmos such as fridges, televisions, microwaves, satellite radios and GPS units being made especially for trucks, the life of cab and sleeper is a lot cozier than it used to be.
But most important to these recovering office drones is the independence.
"You're given an assignment and it's up to you to get to where you're going on time," Ms. Johnston says. "There's nobody looking over your shoulder all the time. That could get lonely down the road, but I'm a bit of a loner anyway."
Many firms now allow drivers some companionship. Ms. Johnston keeps a constant co-pilot in her schnauzer Rudy and sometimes has her husband ride shotgun.
"It was his idea that we'd both get our licences and spend the next 10 or 15 years riding around," she says. "My kids thought we'd lost our minds. They were embarrassed that I was going to be some truck-driving momma, but now that they see I'm happy they don't mind so much."
Husband-and-wife teams can double-shift a single truck and bring in $150,000 annually combined. "We're seeing a number of empty-nester couples signing up for classes," says John Beaudry, president of Transport Training Centres of Canada based in Sudbury. "Between the two of them they can put away a nice-sized nest egg."
While Mr. Johnston has yet to earn his licence - the course takes as little as three weeks and costs about $2,000 - his wife won't have to worry about gainful employment for the next decade or more. The industry's labour force is running on fumes, needing an extra 35,000 drivers this year and a quarter of a million by 2028, according to the Canadian Trucking Human Resources Council. Some firms are offering signing bonuses of up to $4,000 for new recruits.
But life behind the wheel isn't all open highway and easy money.
In his first week driving, Mr. Nock made a drop in a particularly shady part of Pennsylvania. "I got this feeling I was going to be killed in some little U.S. town."
"That first week on your own is the worst. I was ready to quit."
He stuck with it, but is more cautious than he was as a rookie. "When I stop at night, I take a good look to see what type of people are around. And I never leave the tractor unlocked."
And despite new electronic conveniences, life on the road requires a hardy disposition. Long-haul trips can keep drivers from their families for up to two weeks at a stretch. Truck stops encourage a steady diet of fast food and coffee. Cleanliness comes second to a good night's sleep.
"If you're used to showering every day, well, that's not going to happen out here," says Ms. Johnston. "It's definitely not a luxurious lifestyle."
