To tell the story of Tasmanian logging you can't sneak around the edges, you can't embroil yourself in politically correct jargon and try to appease all sides. Rather you must strike right into the heart of the hurt and there you will find a community in shock and a process that is skewed badly out of balance.

New Norfolk settles in a picturesque, almost European valley. The farming lands stretch away from the Derwent River. Heavily timbered slopes stretch down from the valley's mountains. It's a family home. Two log trucks gleam in the autumn sunshine reflecting the care and respect the drivers and owners have for their machinery. Two old Mack Superliner Mark IIs with tipper bodies aren't quite as highly polished but the old bulldogs still snarl at the world.

"Just garden ornaments," Aaron Schearer tells me, pointing at the old SuperLiners, "since Gunns dishonoured our contract there's no work for them anymore."

Willie Oakley says the operation had picked up a bit of 'forestry' work, "but that barely covers fuel costs," he says, "but it keeps the wheels turning."

Four generations of bush workers and their families have gathered to talk to Truckin' Life. Anything, they say, any opportunity to get their side of the story 'out there'.

Read their stories in the February issue of Truckin' Life Magazine.