When I was two years old, my family took a month-long road trip in our VW van from Chicago to Colorado. My lasting takeaway from that journey was that trucks were cute.
Yeah, I said it.
The only explanation I can offer is that, at the time, we had a big old stocky mutt named Tank, and I’m sure during my formative months of “tummy time” on the floor of our suburban home, I saw a lot of his squared back end while he lumbered from place to place around me. The long trek across I-80 had the same effect—me crawling around the van and staring at the back ends of big old stocky Great Dane and Fruehauf and Utility box trailers lumbering on by. I mean, I’m no child psychologist or anything, but from a tender age I was hooked, and all I ever wanted as a boy was to drive trucks.
I made the dream a reality in my early 20s when I got my commercial driver’s license and then spent a few months hauling tomatoes in double trailers up and down California’s Central Valley. I loved it, but a single summer spent standing on the heavy clutch of an International 9000 destroyed my already-bad left knee, and my trucking career came to an inauspicious end. But damn, I still love me some trucks.
Skip McKean of Henniker, New Hampshire, brought his fleet of vintage Macks, each wearing the pale yellow livery of his petroleum delivery business. They included a 1942 ED, 1946 EH, 1950 A40, 1951 LF, and 1956 Model B85. All made the journey on a flatbed behind his 1985 RW613 Superliner. Stefan LombardSkip McKean of Henniker, New Hampshire, brought his fleet of vintage Macks, each wearing the pale yellow livery of his petroleum delivery business. They included a 1942 ED, 1946 EH, 1950 A40, 1951 LF, and 1956 Model B85. All made the journey on a flatbed behind his 1985 RW613 Superliner. Stefan LombardSkip McKean of Henniker, New Hampshire, brought his fleet of vintage Macks, each wearing the pale yellow livery of his petroleum delivery business. They included a 1942 ED, 1946 EH, 1950 A40, 1951 LF, and 1956 Model B85. All made the journey on a flatbed behind his 1985 RW613 Superliner. Stefan LombardSkip McKean of Henniker, New Hampshire, brought his fleet of vintage Macks, each wearing the pale yellow livery of his petroleum delivery business. They included a 1942 ED, 1946 EH, 1950 A40, 1951 LF, and 1956 Model B85. All made the journey on a flatbed behind his 1985 RW613 Superliner. Stefan Lombard
It’s no surprise, then, that I couldn’t get enough of the vintage rigs on display at the Antique Truck Club of America’s 40th annual National Meet. More than 850 trucks graced Macungie Memorial Park in Macungie, Pennsylvania, over Father’s Day weekend. It’s the perfect venue, because the park is big enough to accommodate a dozen Flying Js’ worth of big rigs, it’s got plenty of shade, and it’s a stone’s throw from Mack’s cab and vehicle assembly plant. (There were even buses making regular trips over to the factory for tours.)
This was Mack country for sure, and many of the trucks on hand wore the chrome bulldog. But you didn’t have to look far to see Peterbilts and Kenworths, Freightliners and Western Stars, Whites, Autocars, Diamond Ts, Divcos, Brockways, GMCs, Fords, and more. Most of the rigs were trailerless, or bobtail, if you like, though there was an area for vintage combinations, too.
This 1925 Mack AC was distinctly “as-found.” The chain-driven truck is a nod to Mack’s great heritage. Stefan LombardThis 1925 Mack AC was distinctly “as-found.” The chain-driven truck is a nod to Mack’s great heritage. Stefan Lombard
One guy had installed a vintage Lark travel trailer inside his vintage Great Dane box trailer so he could live out of it at shows. Nearly all of the cabs were driven to the park, and plenty seemed to do double duty as both working trucks and show trucks, though several came in strapped to flatbeds and lowboys. More than a few attendees crashed in their sleeper cabs.
The camaraderie among truck owners was not unlike that seen at car shows, with a few key exceptions: Their jeans were dustier, their fingernails blacker, their boots steel-toed. And so many of them seemed to know each other well. More than once I overheard conversations about this or that guy who pulled this or that truck out of so-and-so’s place. After all, the realm of vintage big rigs isn’t so large. Mileage and the extreme demands of the job took a heavy toll on these things, and most were never regarded as objects worth saving, so the ones that have been saved are almost universally admired by the men (and they are nearly all men) with a fondness for old diesels, no matter the badge on the nose.
This part of Pennsylvania is Mack country; the 119-year-old company has a cab and vehicle assembly plant just down the street from the show. That’s not to say all the rest of America’s great manufacturers weren’t well represented, too. Stefan LombardThis part of Pennsylvania is Mack country; the 119-year-old company has a cab and vehicle assembly plant just down the street from the show. That’s not to say all the rest of America’s great manufacturers weren’t well represented, too. Stefan Lombard
Snobbery has no place here, in other words.
And for those simply milling about and taking them all in, like yours truly, their appeal was equally undeniable. ATCA secretary Mike Fowler said it best: “Everything we wear and eat and use every day came to us by truck. You can’t help but appreciate them.”
Some of us even think they’re cute.
Not quite a bulldog, this big boy was happy to find some shade and an open patch of grass whenever he could. Stefan Lombard
Hagerty member Ron Smith of Allentown, PA, brought out his fleet of vintage fire trucks, including American LaFrance and Hahn machinery. Each is a truck he served on during a long stint as a volunteer firefighter. Stefan Lombard
Not everything in Macungie was massive. This tiny Crosley pickup was the smallest truck in attendance. Stefan Lombard
Many of the show trucks in the park were also work trucks, which meant greasy fifth wheels ready to hook up and go. Stefan Lombard
Many of the show trucks in the park were also work trucks, which meant greasy fifth wheels ready to hook up and go. Stefan Lombard
This ancient Mack ladder truck was repurposed as the meet’s PA system. Quite handy. Stefan Lombard
One of the coolest dump trucks you’ll ever see is this 1949 Mack LRX. Stefan Lombard
One of the coolest dump trucks you’ll ever see is this 1949 Mack LRX. Stefan Lombard
The wonderful paint job suited this 1979 White Western Star DS cabover perfectly. Stefan Lombard
Brockway trucks were built in Cortland, New York, from 1912–77, and you don’t really see them on the road anymore. This 1973 H360 TL was beautifully restored. Stefan Lombard
This 1986 Peterbilt 359 was chromed from stem to stern. Stefan Lombard
Only one trophy is handed out at the ATCA National Meet: The Director’s Award. This year’s winner was a 1948 Mack EG, an all-original beer delivery truck still wearing its Stegmaier Beer livery. Stefan Lombard
One of my favorite trucks at the show was this 1925 White 15. Pulled out of the back of a scrap lot several years ago, its owner took three days to get it running, and the only modern concessions are half a dozen shiny fasteners scattered throughout and a fuel line primer bulb assembly running from a can beneath the seat up to the engine compartment. It drove on the field under its own power, and the owner kept it running as it sat on both days of the show. Stefan Lombard
One of my favorite trucks at the show was this 1925 White 15. Pulled out of the back of a scrap lot several years ago, its owner took three days to get it running, and the only modern concessions are half a dozen shiny fasteners scattered throughout and a fuel line primer bulb assembly running from a can beneath the seat up to the engine compartment. It drove on the field under its own power, and the owner kept it running as it sat on both days of the show. Stefan Lombard
One of my favorite trucks at the show was this 1925 White 15. Pulled out of the back of a scrap lot several years ago, its owner took three days to get it running, and the only modern concessions are half a dozen shiny fasteners scattered throughout and a fuel line primer bulb assembly running from a can beneath the seat up to the engine compartment. It drove on the field under its own power, and the owner kept it running as it sat on both days of the show. Stefan Lombard
This 1939 Mack ED tow truck was custom-built in Massachusetts by its longtime owner. Originally a flatbed, during the restoration he fitted the current bed from an old fire truck, then found the hand-operated Manley wrecker crane at a swap meet. Stefan Lombard
One of the largest pickup trucks you’re likely to find, this custom 1962 Mack B67 conversion is powered by a Chevy big-block V-8. Stefan Lombard
This 1957 GMC 860 “Cannonball” was a treat to see. It was purchased off of Craigslist in 2016 after 44 years in storage. It’s fairly unique, too, with a factory sleeper and factory air-ride suspension. Stefan Lombard
This 1982 Peterbilt 354 was a killer take on the big-rig theme, with three fat pumpkins putting power to all three axles, mega off-road tires, and a spotless engine bay. Stefan Lombard
This 1982 Peterbilt 354 was a killer take on the big-rig theme, with three fat pumpkins putting power to all three axles, mega off-road tires, and a spotless engine bay. Stefan Lombard
There’s just something undeniably cool about the curves on a B-series Mack, as illustrated by the 1959 B61. Stefan Lombard
Many old-school truckers take pride in their “twin sticks,” which shift gears through a main and an auxiliary transmission. More than one veteran of the road grumbled to me or to his cohorts about, essentially, “kids these days,” who “think they know how to drive” when their rig’s got an automatic. Stefan Lombard
Bentley’s veneer game is weak sauce compared to the oak woodwork throughout this 1974 Kenworth 900A. Stefan Lombard
This 1970 Oshkosh C2044 wrecker with a front axle set back just about as far as you can set an axle back has an apt vanity plate: UGLY. Stefan Lombard
This pair of Divco 15 milk trucks were the only ones I encountered. Not much changed in the design between 1939 (foreground) and 1955. Stefan Lombard
The show started to wind down on Saturday afternoon, and that meant a mass exodus onto Main Street. Stefan Lombard
The show started to wind down on Saturday afternoon, and that meant a mass exodus onto Main Street. Stefan Lombard
The show started to wind down on Saturday afternoon, and that meant a mass exodus onto Main Street. Stefan Lombard
The show started to wind down on Saturday afternoon, and that meant a mass exodus onto Main Street. Stefan Lombard
The show started to wind down on Saturday afternoon, and that meant a mass exodus onto Main Street. Stefan Lombard
The show started to wind down on Saturday afternoon, and that meant a mass exodus onto Main Street. Stefan Lombard
The show started to wind down on Saturday afternoon, and that meant a mass exodus onto Main Street. Stefan Lombard
