Jesús Dueñas starts his day in the cab of his Freightliner Cascadia, which is both his home and workplace. He drives close to 19,500 kilometers each month, spending weeks on the road as the dashboard and bunk frame his days and the highway fills the hours. His routine reflects life for many US truckers, a world far from what most Spaniards know.
The US stands out for its size and the services it offers drivers who live on the road. Truck stops are huge. They offer showers and restaurants, while supermarkets are also on site. Laundries let drivers wash clothes; pharmacies and clinics cover practical needs. Some stops even have hairdressers. Drivers like Jesús can keep moving for days without leaving this network. As he puts it, "this job is a lifestyle." In America, that’s not an exaggeration.
In September 2026, Love’s announced the opening and renovation of travel stops with expanded amenities for truckers. The upgrades include showers and restaurants, while stores are also part of the offer.
But these comforts come with a cost. The company Jesús works for limits his truck to 65 miles per hour. US law allows him to lead up to 11 hours a day, with a maximum of 70 hours over eight days. Federal regulations require 10 consecutive hours off duty before driving. They set a 14-hour on-duty window, and mandate 30-minute breaks after eight hours. The routine never lets up: he drives and refuels, checks the truck and handles paperwork, then loads or unloads. Waiting can last for hours. No two days are the same, but the grind never stops.
Jesús sees big differences between trucking in the US and Spain. In America, companies often cover licenses and hotel stays. They may also offer sign-on bonuses. In Spain, these perks are rare. But not everything is better. He’s wary of the flood of new drivers chasing quick money. Many, he says, don’t have a strong work ethic. He sees risky driving and little sense of community on the road.
One thing stands out for him: safety. His American employer gives drivers room to adjust schedules if they’re sick or the weather turns bad. Drivers are expected to speak up and reorganize instead of pushing through. Jesús says this puts safety first, unlike the strict time pressure he remembers from Europe.
Jesús doesn’t buy the headlines about a general trucker shortage in the US. He says the real problem is finding people willing to take certain jobs and stick with them. His own path was long: he started his immigration process in 2018 and arrived in the US in 2022 with permanent residency. He then had to get an American commercial license before he could lead.
Life on the road is both freeing and lonely. Jesús likes the independence and the chance to see new places, but the solitude can be hard. He spends months away from family and sleeps in his cab. Fatigue and traffic are part of the job, and bad weather adds another challenge. Over time, he’s learned to appreciate small comforts and accept that some days just go wrong. "Sometimes everything runs smoothly, but there are moments when the road gets rough," he says. When that happens, you fix the problem and keep going.
For Spanish drivers thinking about making the jump, the road is long and full of hurdles. The US system offers opportunities, but it also demands grit and the ability to adapt to a tough, unusual way of life. As reported earlier, even small habits behind the wheel can have big effects, a lesson that matters on both sides of the Atlantic.
Jesús Dueñas’s story shows that the American dream for truckers means long hours and personal sacrifice. The system rewards those who can handle the pressure. Modern truck stops and company perks are real, as are the long stretches of loneliness. The schedule never lets up. For those ready to make the road their life, the US offers opportunities Spain rarely does, though the trade-offs are real.
