Crawlin the (old) Hume

In 1972 having just turned 21, I moved from Melbourne to live in Sydney for work. A different world back then, I’d only driven out of Victoria a couple of times and been on a plane – the revered Boeing 727 – just once, for said job interview. It was a difficult decision to move, leaving behind life-long friends and the security of the only world I knew.

Road trips back to Melbourne for holidays and even long weekends became the norm for me and I’d often leave after work on a Friday night to make the most of the time I could spend down south.

Memory fades a little with age but I seem to remember the trip taking around 11 hours on a good run. I do succinctly remember, however, the trucks on the narrow, winding Highway 31.

Any gradient along the highway resulted in an ever growing convoy with second gear being the best many could hope for.

Overtaking lanes were a rarity and their occasional presence meant vying for position not only with other cars but with the more powerful trucks of the day endeavouring to pass their slower comrades. This meant trucks who could get up the hills in third gear.

The truck line grew ever longer as we would approach Wodonga, Chiltern, Benalla, Glenrowan and the myriad other towns that the highway traversed.

Throughout the night the streets through these towns were alive with the sound of diesel engines, and shining brightly with the neon signs of the many roadhouses clamouring for the attention of hungry truckies’ stomachs.

Stopping for a good feed meant looking for the roadhouse with the most trucks parked outside. If memory serves me correctly only one town along the Hume back in ’72 had been bypassed.

Fast-forward 49 years and many of these town have faded into distant memory. On the Victorian stretch of the Hume, Tarcutta was the last town bypassed in 2011. The noisy, dusty main streets of old have been beautified with centre strips and tree planting. Here and there on the outskirts can be seen the skeletons of old roadhouses long since consigned to history.

Bigger regional cities such as Wodonga, Wangaratta and Benalla have reinvented themselves as a tree-change for those wishing to escape the capital cities and others like Glenrowan have capitalised on its links with Ned Kelly to draw the tourist trade.

Ten years ago Rob French and Roger ‘Slasha’ Marchetti, having attended the Haulin the Hume run from Sydney to Yass, decided to replicate the run from Melbourne to Albury. Crawlin the Hume was born, inviting young and old truckies and their definitely old machinery to travel the road, these days less travelled – that being the Old Hume Highway.

Since their inception, Haulin and Crawlin have run year about, but with Covid, Crawlin was abandoned in 2020.

Bruce Gunter, founder of Haulin was happy to step back a year and allow Crawlin the Hume to take place this year instead. The offer was gratefully accepted as the abandoned run was to be a memorial to Roger Marchetti who passed away in 2019.

The run took on even greater significance with the sudden and unexpected passing of Rick ‘Chocs’ Hayman, who was heavily involved with Crawlin and beloved by all who knew him.

By 6AM on Saturday, March 27 some 200 trucks had gathered around the old Ford factory at Campbellfield with owners lining up to register and receive their bag of cap, stickers, directions and other goodies.

“What’s the weather forecast?” said one.

“Belting down by the time we get to Winton Raceway for lunch,” said a forlorn Trevor ‘Slo Speed’ Davis, who was driving his 1927 International. Indeed, as he spoke a few drops started to fall.

As we left Campbellfield, the rain became heavier and we felt for Trev as we passed his door-less truck running flat-chat at around 70km/h. By Wallan the rain had abated, not to return.

Just beyond that town lies Pretty Sally, a three-kilometre uphill stretch of road. These days of course, modern heavy machinery cruises up it, but the old bangers on Crawlin the Hume brought back memories of what drivers endured in days gone by. In previous runs, there has been more than one truck on the run that wheezed to a stop before the top of Pretty Sally, but luck prevailed this time around.

As I took photos from the top of Pretty Sally one Brad Collins arrived with an urn containing his father, Kevin Hawkins’ ashes.

“Being an old truckie, Dad’s desire was for them to be spread in this place. I could not think of a better time to accede to his wishes. I reckon he’s pretty happy, looking down right now.” Brad spread the ashes in front of his father’s favourite truck, a B-model Mack.

Travelling through major towns such as Benalla posed new-world problems for the convoy – now numbering some 300 trucks – with their beautified main streets boasting numerous roundabouts.

Breakdowns were thankfully few this year but where they occurred, a flotilla of trucks had pulled up to offer assistance – a reminder of times lost in todays ‘get there on time’ mentality.

Lunch at Winton Raceway was a sight to behold. So much history in one place attracted locals by the hundreds and allowed those driving to discuss the pros and cons of their rides. From there, the convoy proceeded to Albury racecourse for dinner and reminiscing with both tall tales and possibly some even true.

One of the common topics at dinner – and the most heartfelt – was the members of the public who had come out to see the passing parade.

Crawlin the Hume is not publicised beyond affiliated trucking Facebook pages and media and yet the Jungle Drums beat loudly along the route. Every town and every winding country road was lined with dads and lads, mums, grandparents and babies in prams waving, photographing and pleading for horns to be blared as trucks passed them by.

And while Crawlin the Hume itself is something everyone should experience for its camaraderie, stories of days long gone and the chance to give The Old Girl another decent run, the appreciation of the folks lining over 400 kilometres of road to express their appreciation of the job the trucking industry has done for them overwhelmed all who joined in the convoy.

Long live Crawlin the Hume!