Simply The Test

Once again I found myself driving through Nottingham in rush hour, and once again I was at the wheel of the Scania that I’ve been taking my driving tests in – rather more than I , and the company accountants, had hoped for as it happens.  Today, however, was different – because I finally passed my class 1 test with an excellent result that I’m pleased with.

If I looked like this, I'd have passed first time.  Allegedly.

 I’m sure it is not a coincidence that my examiner for this test was a very pleasant man in his fifties, who has driven trucks for a living, and understands that manoeuvring artics around modern, overcrowded cities is very different in practise to the written word.  He wasn’t there just to tick boxes on a form; he was looking for a safe, comfortable journey in a vehicle driven with confidence and competence.  Like it used to be in the old days before they started hiring graduates who can say all the right things at interview, but couldn’t reverse a loaded artic into Tesco’s loading bay without ending up in the cereals and condiments aisle.

I’d had a very good trip over to the test centre, which improved my confidence and put me in the right frame of mind.  When I saw that my examiner wasn’t young enough to be my grandson and could see out of the windscreen without a booster seat, things improved no end.  I also liked his manner – he spoke to me like a person, and didn’t just recite the script that seems to have been issued to all the kiddies that the Government are giving these posts to now.  I’ve heard it enough times to know it off by heart – think I’ll set it to music and enter next year’s Britain’s Got Talent with the Driving Test Two-Step.

The exam got off to a good start with a cracking reverse and brake test, and out on the roads followed in the same vein.  As I was feeling calm and in control, I was able to take all the horrors of Nottingham traffic and roadworks in my stride, with plenty of time to assess and plan my way through the minefield of the test route.  Back at the centre, the coupling exercise went well, and that was that – a happy end to a relatively pleasant exam.  The only area I let myself down on was some undue hesitation when entering a section of roadworks; a tricky situation given narrow lanes and parked cars.  I failed the last test due to being too close to parked cars, so today I erred on the side of caution and hung back until there was an established gap and then used all the road I wanted.  So although I did the correct procedure, it turned out that I left thinking about a bit too long before deciding to move off.  Because the examiner could see why I was doing what I was doing, however, this was marked as a minor fault only – and certainly preferable to charging straight down without thinking about it.  That comes after the test is over.

Tomorrow I start my proper driving on a Mercedes Actros with a 9-car trailer.  In the meantime, while I’m not saying that I was a regular visitor to the Test Centre, my personal and private parking bay is now being auctioned off on Ebay.  Happy bidding!

"When I said take a shunt, I was talking to the train driver, you moron!"

Mirror - Signal - Panic!

It’s not often that I find myself at the wheel of a truck on a Saturday, as the company I work for has a very enlightened policy towards weekend working – the gates shut on Friday night and re-open Monday morning (except when a fly lands on the perimeter fence and sets off the whole alarm system, but I live too far away for that to concern me).

Today, however, was different – I was taking my HGV Class 1 driving test in Nottingham, using a drag-and-drawbar Scania D94. I actually took the test back on Monday, but nerves kicked in, and I drove so badly that I fitted in with everyone else in Nottingham perfectly. That, apparently, is not what they’re looking for. Things began reasonably with a passable if not perfect reverse manoeuvre, followed by a good brake test (formerly known as the emergency stop) that I wouldn’t dare attempt in the Iveco - I usually regard this procedure as 'the optional stop' in everyday life. Then out into Nottingham, where my normally competent driving skills deserted me, and without going into too much detail because it’s plain embarrassing, I proceeded to fail the test. Oh well, learn from it and move on.

So, back again today for another go. The reverse was absolutely textbook and the braking exercise spot on. Out once again into Nottingham; this time I was driving well and knew it; consequently I relaxed and that helps a great deal when approaching a tricky manoeuvre as your brain starts to think and plan, instead of shutting down and turning into blancmange. As a result, I threaded my way through the obstacles that Councils insist on dumping onto all urban roads, and had plenty of time to react to oncoming traffic. Back to the yard, and the uncouple / re-couple manoeuvre. I’ve never had an issue with this before, even on my last test I was offered the opportunity to try it despite having already failed – naturally I took it, as it’s all good practise. Today the uncoupling went fine, but when I recoupled, I didn’t hit the trailer hard enough to lock the pin in. No problem, a second attempt is permitted. But, although I re-did all my checks, I forgot the most important one – don’t forget to re-set the locking pin! So just as I prepared to reverse back down again, the examiner had to call a halt - otherwise a lot of damage would be caused to the drawbar, and probably my head when my instructor found out what I'd done to his truck.

Well, I felt like a right proper Charlie, now that I’ve had time to think up some suitable words for publication. It just goes to show how the silliest little thing, right at the end of the test, can bring you crashing down. So what’s that they say about the third time …? Watch this space.

The lads at work reckon I need a bit more practise, and have sourced me a training vehicle for next week:

First one to the Truckstop buys breakfast!