The Road is Long ...

The lecture was being held in the usual place: at the rear of a public house just off the Great North Road. The room set aside for such occasions was comfortable enough but often musty with the scent of old wood and dampness; probably due to a lack of use and investment since the motorway was finished a number of years ago. I often try to imagine the place back then - when it was in full swing and before the new road took away most of its custom. A busy passing trade mingling with the locals, thriving on a stream of new faces, revving engines, alcohol and the music of that era, the 1970s. As I drove across town from the road that had put an end to all that, hoping to arrive at the meeting at just the right time – not too early and definitely not late - I could feel the contrast between the modern road, its bright lights and wide tarmac, and the narrow dullness of the old town, where I was now headed.

I parked in the car park and walked the short distance to the entrance, a huge oak door and stone surround; a facade that spoke of grander times. Though now shabby with worn, cracked steps and dulled, peeling varnish, it still retained a certain dignity. It struck me that instead of the name of the pub engraved in the stone above the door, it should have the words ‘The Road is Long’, a testament not just to the great road it once served but to the place itself, for enduring quality, charm and longevity. And for its relevance, even today. When floor-to-ceiling tinted glass and stainless steel framework goes out, then maybe the natural benefits of stone slabs and heavy woods will be back. Whatever the future brings, the place had stood the test of time and still worked – even if it was a bit dated.

The Institute provided speakers on a regular basis - and tonight was to be a feast for those interested in Professional Development, with a talk from one of the world’s leading truck manufactures about modern electronic systems. I went along for interest only - age and professional saturation had made the prospect of any development an irrelevance some time ago. I took my seat close to the back, as normal, and surveyed the rest of the night’s audience. There was the usual bunch – fitters, technicians, managers - most at the start of, or at least at a stage in their individual careers where they felt they could make a difference. The youngest sat at the front, the middle aged, middle managers in the middle, and the rest at the back. The speaker (young, an air of intelligence and seriousness) was introduced by our regional secretary (grey hair, pinstripe suit, retired but hanging on), who was also acting as Chairman for the evening. The lights were dimmed to help out the screen onto which our guest’s presentation was to be projected. We were told to expect information on the very latest in technological advances in vehicle electronics from a man who knew his stuff, an expert in the field. And so the lecture began.

Multiplexing, he told us, not only reduced the amount of wiring needed but more importantly, allowed different components to communicate with each other. Imagine, if you will, he said, the lights knowing that the wipers were on. I tried. Then, imagine that the wipers were on ‘max speed’ – hey presto, the lights come on without the driver touching a button. Why? Well, if the wipers are on full visibility must be bad, hence the need for lights. I was impressed, and so were the others. I could see the young blood moving forward on their seats, as if closer proximity to the speaker would somehow anoint them with his knowledge. Digital wiring, apparently, was in. “If driver don’t know he needs lights on, shouldn’t be drivin’ in first place.” A voice said from somewhere in the audience. I looked around in the direction it had come from and saw its origin a few seats to my right, just across a small isle that ran down the centre of the room. The rest of the group had also turned to look, but they didn’t linger – the real attraction was at the front and heads were soon nodding in agreement once again to ‘the message’. However, I couldn’t help but stare a while longer at the figure sitting there. The voice belonged to a rather small, slightly bent, elderly man who ever-so gently rocked backward and forward on his seat. He struck an odd figure, even in a group so varied in age, and what would once have been referred to as class, as us. His clothes were old but spotlessly clean, his shoes highly polished but badly worn. He wore a tie but with a thick winter shirt, the type not often seen now that we have fleeces that need little underneath. His trousers looked formal but he wore no jacket, just an old anorak and cardigan. He looked out of place amongst the polo shirts and neatly pressed denim that surrounded him.

Eventually, I looked to the front and reconnected with the group. Rollover, we heard next, was of great concern, and very expensive. Murmurs of agreement came from middle managers, both existing and aspiring. Speed and cornering were apparently the danger areas. ABS wheel speed sensors combined with lateral acceleration sensors, linked to processors would monitor stability and ... . He didn’t finish. The Voice, not loud but clear enough, didn’t let him. “Take away power steering, that’ll slow the buggers down on roundabouts”. This time our guest lost a little of his thread and looked a bit taken aback. The Chairman smiled reassuringly at him, raising his eyes to the ceiling momentarily in a gesture of solidarity in the face of such adversity and nodded for him to continue. The speaker rallied, bolstered by the obvious contempt shown by the majority of his audience for this unwarranted interruption.

We soon moved on to electronic pneumatic braking and the advantages such a system brings. Faster application and integrated electronics meant efficient, safe braking. The Voice had his own opinion. “Bring back the blue line”, I heard him say (a reference to the old three-line air brake system fitted to British tractors and trailers). Sharp looks but no words came from the front. The untold benefits of variable cruise control were next on the agenda. We heard how by setting the distance between our truck and the vehicle in front, we could rely on the computer to keep us safe. Even the sudden appearance of another vehicle from a cut-in manoeuvre wouldn’t fox it. Cameras would detect the position of other road users and activate the pre-crash systems if needed, pre-tensioning seat belts and lightly applying brake pads in readiness. “Glass cabs, that’s the best answer. Give ‘em glass cabs. They’d keep a fair distance from other motors then”. The Voice had spoken once again. This time no one turned to look, although there was a lot of sighing, especially from the front - and a few grins from the back.

The lecture finished not long after and the floor was thrown open to questions. They came thick and fast. What diagnostic kit did our expert recommend? How was interference dealt with by the wiring system? What was in the pipeline for the immediate future? And finally, what fitment, in his opinion, would make the greatest contribution to safer driving? I have to admit, I wasn’t at all surprised when The Voice answered for him. “A bloomin’ great spike in middle of steerin’ wheel”, it said. “The point restin’ against ya chest”. A few, including myself, nodded in agreement, and allowed ourselves the luxury of a chuckle.

The evening came to an end and our Chairman thanked the speaker once more. I got up and looked around for The Voice, but of him there was no sign. I left without staying for the social part of these gatherings that usually followed on from the night’s talk. My car soon warmed up as I headed home along the motorway. I set the cruise control and the air conditioning and the radio to how I wanted them, and sat there... and sat there.