La France buissonnière : une maman poule au pays des routiers
Tremblez, messieurs les routiers, les camionneurs à gros bras, les mastards en marcel : trois femmes, sur dix-sept candidats, sont qualifiées pour la finale du Trophée des routiers, qui doit se dérouler jeudi 21 septembre, à Monchy-Saint-Eloi (Oise). Pilotée par des organismes de la protection sociale et de la formation professionnelle du secteur du transport, cette manifestation décerne, chaque année, un titre officieux de « meilleur chauffeur » de poids lourd de France.
Never before have so many female drivers been registered for the national test, even though the profession struggles to become more feminine (only 3% of truck drivers are women, according to the Prospective Observatory of Jobs and Qualifications in Transport and Logistics). The victory of one of them would be a strong symbol. “Even though personally, I have never been the subject of mockery in my profession. On the contrary, my male colleagues have always been very helpful,” says Laetitia Guilhermet, 37 years old, an employee of the Jacky Perrenot group at the Chambéry branch.
In late May, in Jonage (Rhône), this mother of three children easily won the regional selection for Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes. The program included three tests: a multiple-choice questionnaire on safety and hygiene; performing a maneuver on a simulator; and navigating through a city while using the least amount of fuel possible. The same three exercises await the applicants in Monchy-Saint-Eloi.
Laetitia Guilhermet did not specifically prepare for the competition. The distance of 2,500 to 3,000 kilometers that she covers every week, between France and Italy, driving a 44-ton truck loaded with pallets of mineral water, is the best training. “I feel at home in a truck. I wouldn’t change my job for anything in the world,” says the woman nicknamed Lora by her colleagues, referring to a small transport company created in Ariège by the father of her two children, Loratrans.
“I cannot reword”
Her passion for large tonnages dates back to her early childhood. “I must have been 5 or 6 years old,” she recalls. “It came over me like others become nuns because the Lord called them. Trucks made me dream. They were imposing, majestic, they represented freedom.” No one in her family had ever driven a heavy truck before her. Her father, a railway worker, demanded that she pass her baccalaureate. In the end, she obtained a professional certificate in “driving and services in road transport.”
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