08/06/2026
You don't become an old-school legend by accident.
Last Friday, while merging onto the motorway near Lyon, we were overtaken by something special.
A genuine blue Scania 143 450.
The kind of truck you don't just see - you feel it.
Thirty-four years old. More than four million kilometers on the clock. On paper, long written off. For most people, a truck like this would be a weekend restoration project. Something to polish, admire, and occasionally take out for a nostalgic ride.
But not this Viking.
This machine still does exactly what it was built to do. Work.
From southern Spain to Sofia. Through Kosovo. Across Greece and back into Italy. Routes that would make many modern drivers think twice. While most legends spend their retirement standing behind ropes at truck shows, this Scania is still out there, earning its living and writing new stories every single week.
And when you look at a truck like this, you automatically picture a weathered old trucker behind the wheel. A checked shirt, rough hands, a face shaped by millions of kilometers.
But that's where the story becomes even better.
Behind the wheel sits Hilde.
Long blonde hair. A denim skirt. Cowboy boots.
Not exactly the person most people would expect to find driving a Scania 143 across the far corners of Europe.
More than twenty years ago, she bought this truck when it was already fourteen years old and had long since proven its worth. Two decades later, they're still together, crossing borders and collecting stories. The original engine is still in place, and remarkably few major repairs have ever been needed.
A few years ago, her soulmate Arie van Itterson joined the story.
And Arie is a legend in his own right.
Still travelling daily with his own multi-million-kilometer Scania 143. Another truck that has quietly defied time, just like the man behind the wheel.
Maybe that's what makes these two so special.
They're not collectors.
They're not influencers.
They're not chasing attention.
They simply live the life they've always lived.
Making miles. Crossing borders. Following their own compass.
In a world obsessed with newer, faster and more efficient, Hilde and Arie remain stubbornly true to themselves. And perhaps because of that, they represent something that is slowly disappearing.
I must admit, for years I assumed the truck belonged to Arie. That they simply travelled together. Only recently did I discover that Hilde lives less than two minutes from me, speaks the same local dialect, and somehow I had never met her before.
Maybe that says everything about her.
She doesn't need the spotlight.
She doesn't need to prove anything.
She has already lived more adventures than most people could ever dream of.
With a lifelong dislike for anything resembling driving-hour regulations, the arrival of the mandatory digital tachograph has marked the beginning of a new era. But honestly?
If anyone deserves an exemption, it's Hilde.
Some people are made to follow rules.
Others are made to chase horizons.
Over the last few days, I've found myself thinking about her more than once.
It's comforting to know that people like Hilde and Arie still exist. Genuine people. Humble people. People with an unwavering love for old-school trucking. The kind of people who probably don't even realize they have become part of the very history they cherish.
Legends, without ever calling themselves legends.
And for that, they have my deepest respect.
Hilde Van Den Heuvel
