My Experiment Boosting NASCAR Hauler Paychecks
Last Tuesday I woke up pissed about the salary numbers flashing on my phone. Driving shiny stock cars cross-country while getting peanuts felt criminal. So I grabbed cold coffee and scribbled a three-step plan on Burger King napkins: Track every damn mile, Shove evidence in their faces, and Walk if they blinked. No fancy MBA crap.
Started by logging every extra thing bosses “forgot” to pay for:
- Fuel surcharge hours stacking up like dirty laundry
- Tire changes after midnight in rainstorms
- Parking my rig sideways to guard merch trailers at 3AM
Used my kid’s broken iPad to photograph time-stamped weigh station tickets. Even recorded audio notes during breakdowns – like when transmission blew near Bristol and dispatch said “just duct tape it”.
Barged into the fleet manager’s trailer before Charlotte race. Spread out all my evidence: 17 unpaid hazard shifts, 8 forced detours, and 3 near-miss accident reports. Pointed at his fancy new team polo shirt and yelled “stitch money pays better than driver money huh?”.
Got stonewalled for weeks. Started parking near competitor haulers at tracks. Chatted with drivers during cigarette breaks – turns out Team Penske was desperate for safe hands after their rookie totaled two rigs. Walked straight to my boss holding Penske’s scribbled offer: $2.58 more hourly, double breakdown bonuses, and actual motel beds instead of cab sleepers.
Suddenly my dirty logbook became precious. They matched Penske’s offer next Monday while sweating through polo shirts. Lesson? Track your grind like evidence for court, show competitors’ cards early, and always smell faint of diesel when negotiating.
