It's not often you get to see history made, and even less often to see it twice. Back in March, I sat in a tiny studio outside Nashville, Tenn., and watched the legendary Dave Dudley record his first-ever bluegrass truckin' song. The second historic moment will have to wait for the song's release, but I think he's got a hit on his hands.

The album is the brainchild of bluegrass DJ "Big Al" Weakley, a sometime truck driver (most recent gig was on the 2001 Mannheim Steamroller tour) who has spent the past year planning the album and assembling the talent.

Also cutting a track on the CD will be legendary entertainer and songwriter ("Walk On By") Leroy Van Dyke, as well as a number of other guests. Weakley hopes to complete the album and release it in May, marketing it to truckstops and at his online music store:

http://www.longhaulmusic.com/

Dudley first hit it big singing about "Six Days on the Road." But it took him less than 30 minutes in Brickshy Audio's studio to nail a new song written by him and his wife, Marie, or "Miz Dudley," as he calls her.

The name of the song? That takes a minute, because there is a story behind it, as there often is with Dudley. After he'd signed on to cut a track for the CD, the producers waited a decent interval and then asked how the songwriting was going. Dudley said he had a song. "What's the name of it?" asked the producers. "Drivin' Trains," Dudley replied and sat back, listening to a lengthening silence on the other end.

"I knew they were thinking, 'We told him this was a trucking album'," Dudley said. Finally he clued them in: the hook of the song was "Drivin' trains was not the job for me." It tells the tale of a long-time veteran of the road, whose wife thinks he should get another job, but everything she suggests just doesn't suit.

Dudley's voice was much the same – deep, growly and infinitely expressive as he float-shifted through the rollicking lyrics. He'd driven down from his home in Wisconsin in his jade-green Crown Victoria (license plate "6DAYS1") through a blizzard to lay down the track, and was in fine humor. At one point, he cracked everyone up with a dead-on cover of the late Walter Brennan's "Old Rivers."

Weakley cut his own track, the classic "Endless Black Ribbon," and confessed to being a bundle of nerves following Dudley's laid-back performance. After a couple of run-throughs, he caught the groove. The studio was dim, lit mainly by the light through the thick window from the recording booth, where Weakley sang softly into the mike.

As his voice came in over the speakers, we could imagine passing a parked rig with its cab lights on, catching a glimpse of a lonesome trucker on the phone, trying to explain for the ten-thousandth time to his wife why he won't be home that night, or the next one, either.