Does It Get Much Better?
Take a trip with us to a wild and crazy French-Canadian truck show.
Rolf Lockwood
One of the best Canadian summer truck shows takes place seven hours due north of Toronto, in a little Quebec town where pretty much everybody speaks French. If they have a second language, it's "truck. " Many of the town's 1,200 people work in or near trucking, often by way of logging, and for one long weekend in August they give the town over to a truly exciting event -- the annual Rodéo du Camion (Truck Rodeo). This year's event was the 20th in a row.
Attendance was stronger than ever, with record crowds estimated at 55,000 gathered on the shores of Lake Temiskaming, with the tall, typically French-Canadian church spire dominating the beautiful scene. Visitors made the trip from as far away as British Columbia, Florida, even Germany and Holland.
The wild and crazy Rodéo du Camion includes a show-and-shine event, like many others. But what makes it different is the truck racing -- a drag race for both bobtail and loaded B-train rigs up one of the little town's main streets, about a 12% grade. The payload on those B-trains? A whopping great 90,000 pounds' worth of lumber.
Some 125 races are held over two days in a run-off competition that finally declares a winner in each of several classes. Rivalries have developed over the years, as you might expect. This year's grudge match was between longtime rivals Donald Vachon of Smooth Rock Falls, Ontario, and Terry Nychuck of Kirkland Lake, Ontario, in a bobtail challenge. Nychuck, in his 3406A-equipped 1974 vintage Kenworth, left little doubt that Cat rules this particular hill -- at least this time.
The racers are divided into horsepower classes (up to 424 hp; 425 to 460 hp; 461 to 500 hp; and over 500 hp) but it looked and sounded as if some contestants took all this more seriously than others. Some people with Detroit power had the benefit of Detroit Diesel application engineer Chuck Blake's presence. He was there as a "driver trainer," and may have had something to do with the fact that there were quite a few mean-sounding, free-revving, two-cycle engines in evidence.
Amazingly the crowd was never sprayed with drivetrain bits, despite the strain a 90,000-pound payload represents. One aging R-model Mack twisted so much that it lifted its left front wheel nearly two feet off the ground every time out as its driver poured the coals on. Only one truck broke down on the hill, victim of an apparent head-gasket failure, and only a couple were halted due to missed shifts -- a tribute to the skills of the drivers.
The rodeo attracts fans not just to the races or to the show trucks, but also to what is basically a nonstop weekend party. Beer sales must be enough to bankroll some small countries, and the engine brakes don't stop barking all night. It includes a big flea market and a huge parade of trucks on Sunday morning, which took three hours to snake through town and numbered some 350 rigs, according to event chairman Lynn Carrière.
The little town, 20 miles inside the Quebec border east of New Liskeard, Ontario, is completely engulfed by the event, with many lawns covered not by one but several tents, and RVs literally all over the place. Do the townsfolk resent the intrusion? Not at all. In fact, many houses had handmade signs slung from their porches welcoming truckers. If ever you'd like to feel wanted, head up to Notre-Dame-du-Nord.
One of the reasons for that warm French welcome is the fact that proceeds from the rodeo and from its popular raffle, with Peterbilts and Harley-Davidsons as prizes, go back to the community. That's two Pete 379s, by the way, and two Harleys as well: one Fatboy and one Softtail.
Over 20 years, it's estimated that the event has poured some $3 million into community coffers for rebuilding arenas, seniors' homes etc.
RoadStar's Canadian cousin, HighwayStar, is a major sponsor of the event, incidentally.