
For most people, a work truck is just a tool of the trade. But for one Tasmanian driver, a particular Ford Louisville represented something far more personal — a defining chapter of his life spent driving across the Nullarbor Plain during the golden era of Australian interstate transport.
The story begins in 1988, when a young bloke from Tasmania’s highlands, Mick Linger, finally accepted a job he’d previously turned down three times. On the fourth offer, he decided to leave behind a steady role at home and head to the mainland to take on interstate work.
His first solo run across the Nullarbor was a baptism by fire. Coming from Tasmania’s green highlands, the vast scale and isolation of the landscape was unlike anything he’d experienced before.
“You come out from the highlands of Tasmania then run across the Nullarbor. It’s a long way between towns,” he recalls.
Rather than putting him off, the experience confirmed he’d made the right decision.

The truck that would come to define that period of Mick’s life was a Ford Louisville with a distinctive red interior, hauling refrigerated trailers for TNT on the Melbourne–Perth run.
Every Friday afternoon followed the same routine: load Bulla Cream in North Melbourne, then head west through the night. The schedule was demanding, but Mick took pride in it — he was always the first truck on the Perth dock at 3am Monday morning.
The rig ran one trip per week, 52 weeks a year, with a turnaround time of roughly four and a half to five days, including a short break in Perth. Over two years, the Louisville completed more than 100 back-to-back crossings of the continent.
“There was a lot of hard-working trucks out there and a lot of blokes did a very good job with what they had,” Mick says.
When that chapter of his career ended, the truck moved on and eventually faded from Mick’s life. It changed hands several times, and he never expected to see it again.



Years later, a young Tasmanian farmer purchased a tired yellow-and-white LTL that had come over from Western Australia. Klause, the original owner — now elderly and unwell — recognised the truck when taken for a ride one day, but his claims were largely dismissed.
Not long after, Mick noticed something familiar while walking past it in the yard. The interior stood out — red, just as he remembered.
A minor accident while hitching to a flat-top trailer damaged the rear of the sleeper, revealing the original peaches-and-cream colour scheme underneath. It was enough to confirm what Mick already suspected. This was the truck he’d driven all those years ago.
When given the opportunity to buy it back, Mick hesitated.
“Not really, but I needed a week to think about it,” he says.
At the time, he was already part-way through building a tribute LTL to the same specification. In the end, owning the original made more sense than continuing with a replica, and he decided to buy it.
The restoration that followed was thorough, with the Louisville stripped back to its chassis rails. Mick worked on it alongside a small group of mates and employees from his yard, taking a practical, hands-on approach throughout.
“We’re not professionals. We just get into it,” he says. “If we didn’t get any help from a couple of the fellas in the yard, I wouldn’t have got it done to this day.”



Care was taken to retain as many original components as possible. Mick tracked down a brand-new Ford bonnet that had been sitting in a crate for two decades, kept the original fuel tanks where he could, and restored the original bull bar.
Running alongside the truck restoration was another familiar piece of the puzzle. Mick managed to track down the refrigerated trailer he’d once towed regularly — a 40-year-old unit he’d hauled for 15 years in a different role — and brought it home to complete the combination.
The finished result is more than a restoration; it’s a rolling memorial to a bygone era. The 400 Cat mechanical engine, 15-speed overdrive transmission and six-rod suspension remain true to the truck’s original specification.
For Mick, the project was always personal.
“We did it for me, more than anything. It was done because it was part of my life.”

Those Nullarbor runs weren’t just about the driving. They were about the people — the familiar faces at roadhouses, the quiet camaraderie at truck stops, and the understanding that everyone out there was doing the same hard yards.
“It was a really great working environment with everyone that was out there,” Mick says. “There was no one trying to do better than anyone else.”
Now, with the Louisville gleaming in its original livery and the old trailer hitched behind, Mick hasn’t just restored a truck. He’s reclaimed a piece of his past, and preserved a moment in Australian trucking history that, for a long time, he thought was gone for good.