It was purely by accident. I’d been a divorcee and single mum for five years when I met Bill, a truck driver. His interests were old trucks; tractor pulls and car shows. My interest was travelling. When I discovered helpers were needed at the National Road Transport Museum (NRTM) in Alice Springs, for their 2015 Reunion, I knew I’d found the perfect way to combine our interests. (Volunteers are still welcomed and needed!)

Liz Martin and the late Sherrill Ives accepted our application to volunteer and posted us to the Kenworth Hall. Bill, with another volunteer, Peter McMaster, moved trucks into the J J Hurley Pavilion, while I swept the floor and hung photographs. Each night, we’d sit chatting and listening to stories of the old trucking days – times of mischief, camaraderie and antics of a bygone era. I felt grateful to hear the stories, yet sad, because I knew they would be lost when this generation of truckies died, unless they were recorded.

While on our way to Alice Springs, to help at the NRTM’s 2023 Festival of Transport, I received a phone call asking if I would research then write a brief history of a ten-day truck blockade – a blockade that grew to having locations in every mainland state. I was to learn that it started on the 2nd of April, 1979, on the Hume Highway, just south of Sydney, at Razorback Mountain. 

The six committee members – Colin Bird, Ted ‘Greendog’ Stevens, Barry ‘Sleepy’ Grimson, Jack ‘Dynamite’ Hibburt, Spencer Watling and Carle Goodfellow – were being honoured as the winners of the museum’s inaugural ‘History Maker’s’ award. 

I had never heard of the blockade or ‘Greendog’ or any of the drivers, but I jumped at the chance. The first people I spoke with were Bob McMillan and Spencer Watling. Straight away, I was intrigued with the story because I could still hear passion and anger in both their voices. I was also concerned because they were still ‘dirty’ on ‘those bloody Victorians’. I wondered what I’d got myself in for, and how I could research the story accurately in only six or so weeks. I quickly got to work, and within days, I knew I wanted to record the story in much more detail than the museum display allowed – so writing a book was on my mind from the get-go. 

Much of the information was collected through conversations with Sleepy, Spencer and Gloria, Carle and Linda, Bob and Billy Shaw. Throughout my research time for the museum, I could not locate Jack. Turns out, I was misspelling his name. Thanks to Billy, I found Jack, and his wife, Pauline, during the early stages of research for the book.

Those conversations were great starting points. I then spent two years trolling through archived newspaper articles, listening to podcasts, reading government documents, and whatever else I could find written about the topic. I interviewed drivers, and their children, from blockade locations across New South Wales and Queensland. Others, whose roles were much briefer but still highly significant, such as media personalities John Laws, also shared their memories with me. I even chatted with the first police officer on site, Colin Passfield.

I was shocked to learn how the various state governments, from as early as 1931, made laws favouring state run railways. I’ll be honest, I thought those I was listening to were biased and that things couldn’t be as one sided as they were telling me. This led me to researching transport acts and court cases, such as Hughes & Vale vs NSW Government, 1953. 

I also delved into other protests against the ton-mile tax, such as Barney Morton’s ‘Operation Wheelbarrow’. The ton-mile tax required accurate record keeping; failure to do so resulted in men and women being sent to maximum security prisons – another shocking fact. 

I soon came to realise that we cannot fully understand what motivated the men to take such drastic action, as blocking a national highway, without understanding this history; so, Part One of the book focuses on the years leading up to the blockade.

The stories of camaraderie and hijinks, as well as the cunning antics used to avoid or outwit the scalies. One example was shared by Sleepy. He tells the story of driving back roads, but only at night, as the road was so windy, the only way to know of oncoming traffic was by seeing their headlights. This, of course, was in the days before CBs were legalised, but that’s another story. Also covered in the book.

I feel this book is almost more relevant today than when I began writing it. In 1976, the number of owner-drivers facing bankruptcy was on the rise, with the statistics for 1977, some of which are shared in the book, simply shocking. Contributing issues were poor load rates and the number of operators in the industry. In 2025, there was, once again, sadly, a significant increase in insolvencies in the industry.

This book also describes the effect on the economy and people’s work and daily life when trucks stopped for just ten days. Seamstresses in Adelaide were sent home with no work; there was concern that fuel for the Royal Flying Doctors would run out and people were asked not to panic buy. Knowing this story has informed my thinking around our country’s current fuel crisis. Not only am I aware of the impact for those of us who rely on everything transported by trucks, but I am also much more sympathetic to those behind the steering wheel; especially those attempting to run a small owner-operated business.