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Don is a trucking man to the core, so much so that his company, which specialises in the buying and selling of used trucks, is aptly called The Truck Man. That's great for Don but it does put his wife Clare - who is as avid a trucking person as is Don - in a bit of a quandary.
Picture it when some die-hard, stubble-chinned trucker phones in looking for a used tipper to operate in some rugged, out-of-the-way mining quarry in the Congo. Clare answers and in her honey-sweet, mellow voice says: "Hi there sweetie. This is The Truck Man?"
Can you picture the guy's reaction? "Gonas Gert," he shouts to his mate in the background. "Hierdie ou is a moffie. Ek gat nie 'n lorrie van hierdie Truck Man koop nie." And he puts the phone down. Note, he doesn't slam it down. He puts it down gently. Yes, he's a hard man but he considers himself a gentleman who is sensitive to the feelings of the less rugged.
If only he had hung on he would have got to know that Clare is not only a most knowledgeably lady when it comes to trucks, but is also a competitor on the race tracks driving in the Wesbank V8 Supercar series against some of South Africa's most formidable male racing drivers. She also drives The Truck Man's new International transporter which is used to transport her racing car and equipment to the various race circuits around the country. But, because he put the phone down, that guy will never get to know the real Clare.
"Who was that?" asks Don as Clare goes back to speccing a truck for a customer who needs to transport logs from the Congo driving over mountain ranges, up and down steep gradients, through tropical storms on off-the-beaten-track muddy roads before reaching the final 100 kms of desert on the way to his destination port off the West African coast. An easy task for a lady of her experience.
"Oh, just some guy who doesn't want to deal with you 'cause he thinks I'm a moffie," she answers sweetly, with a smile.
"What! I'll kill him," shouts Don as he storms out and kicks the tyres of the tipper truck he had just driven down from Mpumalanga. Clare had questioned him at the time on the wisdom of going all that way to fetch the tipper. She again put in her two pennies worth.
"You might as well continue kicking that truck. We're not going to sell it anyway," she quips.
"Oh yeah. I guarantee some guy is going to phone in looking for a used tipper to operate in some rugged, out-of-the-way mining quarry in the Congo," Don retorts.
Oops! Clare slinks away back into the office without saying another word.
So what's the point of this story? Truth is - there isn't one. I've just had fun writing about a couple who are wonderful characters in their own individual rights and stand out as great contributors to this marvelous industry of ours. I've always said it's the people in this industry who make it great. Don and Clare Vale are examples of such people. Don't you just love this industry?
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