LIFE BEHIND THE WHEEL : FIRST PART TIME JOB, FIRST CRASH

After passing my CE driving license, I knew exactly what I wanted: get behind the wheel as soon as possible and start gaining real experience. I wasn’t expecting it to be easy — but I also had no idea how steep that first step would be. As a complete rookie in the trucking world (and a woman on top of that), finding even a part-time job felt almost impossible. Thankfully, I had a friend working as a dispatcher in Lidl’s distribution network and thanks to his help, I landed my first gig. That's where it all began — the deep end of the pool.

Distribution work is intense. You don’t just drive — you load your own truck, plan your weight, calculate axle pressure and navigate narrow, chaotic store ramps. Before that, I had never even used a pallet jack. I had no clue how to load a truck properly or how to keep the axles balanced. At first I rode with more experienced drivers, learning from them as much as I could. And as long as I wasn’t on my own, it all seemed manageable. But when I started driving solo — that’s when reality hit me. Even the smaller 20-pallet trucks were exhausting. Goods were often oversized or sloppily packed. Pallets stuck to each other like glue, stretch foil made it almost impossible to separate them and I had to fight with every load. I lacked the physical strength, I lacked the technique and there was no space to maneuver that damn pallet jack inside those tight stores. Everything took me twice as long. But I kept pushing.

Then came the day I was assigned my first solo ride in a full-sized 40-ton set. Lucky me — I got sent to one of the hardest stores, with the worst ramp access you could imagine. The guys from the depot tried to intervene, knowing how bad that place was, but dispatch didn’t change my route. And of course it was Saturday morning. The parking lot was jammed with shoppers. No way to turn around. I tried to approach the ramp from a different angle, but there was a small car parked exactly in my path. I kept maneuvering for what felt like forever. A man came to help, guiding me from the back, but I was so focused on him I didn’t notice I had clipped the front of that car.

That’s when the panic kicked in. The police were called. My hands were shaking. I felt like my chest was going to explode. I was terrified of what would happen. Luckily, the officers fined the car owner — she had parked in a delivery zone, which was clearly marked. My truck had only minor damage — a scratched side lamp and a little paint on the bumper. Still, I couldn’t finish the job. I had to call a colleague from the company, and he came to help me with parking and unloading. But emotionally? That day crushed me.

I stood there, frozen, thinking: Maybe I’m not made for this. Maybe I’ve gone too far this time. Maybe I should just quit. I genuinely believed I had overestimated myself.... I was disappointed....

But that same colleague, after helping me out, looked me in the eye and said:
"Don’t give up. This is not a small car. It's a 40-ton machine. Every driver — even the old-timers — has scratched something. You’re learning. You’re doing fine. Keep going."

And I did. I kept going. And I’m glad I did — because otherwise I wouldn’t be where I am today.
But that... is a story for another post. 😉

NEXT TOPIC : Goodbye Corporate. Hello Cabin
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