Even a blind Godfather finds a nut once in a while. My plan to make the rest of my run to North Carolina less stressful worked to perfection.
I left the Maryland scales after my eight hour break and encountered very little traffic passing around D.C. My fuel stop was not at all crowded. I got green lights from my Pre-pass at every scale that was open. I made the run within the time left before I had to take my two hour break. The lady at WalMart didn't display the usual sense of self-importance possessed by most rent-a-cops. She was polite and helpful. The load was a drop/hook so I didn't have to wait at a dock. The drop area had plenty of space to set up and back in. I picked up a clean empty that only took a minute to sweep. I had a pre-plan so I didn't have to sit around and wait for an assignment. The 35 mile drive along state highways to my next pickup only took me through two towns and only required one tight turn. The shipper was easy to find and, once again, I encountered a polite and helpful security guard. The drop lot there, while not exactly spacious, had enough room to make a fairly easy back into an empty space. When I got to a CAT scale and weighed my axles, they were perfectly balanced. I had a Hardee's patty melt for lunch and it was much better than expected. The drive back north was nice and smooth. I got a chance to stop in at JR Cigars on exit 97 and, once the rent-a-cop made me go to a neighboring parking lot, picked up some nice stogies. I usually order from them online, but it was cool to get a chance to browse the selection. Between the miles I've been running this wek, northeast bonus pay, and stop pay, I'm earning plenty of money on this paycheck. I found a pull-through parking spot right up front when I got to my stop for tonight. So as much as yesterday I didn't have the kind of job I wanted, today I had exactly the job I wanted.
If only my 70 hour clock weren't catching up with me, I could be at my delivery right now. As it stands, I'll run about five hours or so in the morning to get there. It's another drop/hook so I won't be sitting at a dock there either.
That's not to say the day has been a perfect one. I've had a decent internet connection for most of the day (at least until I got here) so my computer has been downloading updates as I drove along. Some installed without issue, but not all of them. I have a Pantech PCI card for my Sprint internet service. When I broke my old computer I had to stop in Mississippi and get a new one. Of course, it had Vista installed. My Pantech card was not Vista compatible, so I had to find a workaround to get my internet access back. I've been using the workaround since then, several months now. Today I was notified that the software to run the Pantech card with Vista is now available and ready to install. Once I installed it, I had no internet access. Shit. So I ran System Restore and tried to go back. Failed. Tried another restore point. Failed. Another. Failed. Eventually I got one to work, so now it's a matter of seeing if I've taken off any software that I should have left alone.
Now I think I'll go for a jog and then sleep with no alarm clock. I have no idea how long I'll sleep, but whatever my body decides to do is what I'll go with. This load has to be delivered by 00:01 on Monday morning, so I have all day tomorrow to work with.
Originally, I thought I would be able to get a restart under this load, but the dispatch puts me in Bedford, Pennsylvania to soon for that to happen. I'll have to fight the 70 hour clock for a few days and hope they can keep up my momentum.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Friday, August 24, 2007
8/24/07
I believe the literary term is 'foreshadowing.' I'm pretty sure that's what I saw this morning when I woke up and looked outside. I felt like I had been transported into an Arthur Conan Doyle masterpiece. There was a thick fog, such that you could only see maybe 75 feet ahead. The fog had a greenish hue to it. There was an odd smell in the air. There was absolutely no sound in the air. Dead silence. No crickets, no cars, nothing. I should have had an idea what kind of morning to expect...
I didn't get a Michael's load. Instead I was dispatched to head south to Reading for the first pickup on a WalMart run. Let's see how it went...
There was the misty rain, enough to make me use the wipers but not enough to let the wipers accomplish anything. That was nice.
There was the trying to maintain traction as I constantly had to accelerate and decelerate on slick roads. I enjoyed that part.
There were the hairpin mountain turns. Big fun.
There were the people hurrying to work and cutting me off, only to slam on their brakes and turn down the next street, over and over again. That was pretty cool.
There were the little coal mining towns where the main drag had enough room for one and a half lanes of traffic, but two lanes had to get through. I really liked that part.
There were the dubiously marked state highway interchanges that, if I missed one, would lead to a fifty mile drive down a street from which there may be no getting out. Always a plus.
There was the sign for highway 12 west, but no highway 12 east, even though I had to go east. Just as I had planned.
There were the signs directing trucks not to follow the state route through Reading, but to follow the alternate signs that just disappeared after two blocks, leaving me in a residential area and completely screwed. I always like that.
After I went through a few neighborhoods and somehow found my way back to the customer's location, there was the right turn with parked cars on both sides, where the only option was to pass up the turn, cut the wheel left, back up a little, cut the wheel right, pull forward a little, and repeat several times. People really should appreciate those more.
There was the way I had to back in off the street to a dock that was designed for 26' straight trucks, leaving my tractor jacked sideways all the way across the street. Those are pretty neat.
There was leaving the customer and having to drive a quarter mile with the doors open before I could find a spot without parked cars on both sides, leaving enough room to close them. Plenty of intrigue there.
There was the drive from Reading to my second pickup in Carlisle. While not nearly as eventful as the first one, it did take two hours to go 70 miles. I'm pretty sure they erected 150 extra red lights on US 422 in honor of my trip.
There was the 'no idling' rule at the second stop, making the 90% humidity much more enjoyable for me.
Oh, and let's not forget about the seven bills of lading that I had to enter into the MobileMax. That's a thrilling twenty minutes.
There was the rollercoaster section of PA-94 heading south from Reading. Well, actually, that was pretty fun. Nevermind that one.
There was the rush hour traffic on US-15 in Frederick. One of my favorite things.
And there was the fact that I was going to hit the D.C. Beltway right at 5pm sharp.
What was I talking about anyway? Oh yeah, I should have known what today would be like. That's right. The overriding thought going through my mind this morning was, "I didn't sign up for this shit!" All I needed were Holmes and Watson to analyze what happened and it would have been perfect.
Time out dude. I've had enough for one day. I pulled into the Maryland scales about a half hour from the beltway. I'll take a nap here, make it an eight hour break, then finish off over night. I'll be looking at one of two scenarios. Either I'll make it to the customer within the six hours that I'll have available, or I'll run out and have to take a two hour break before continuing. Either way I'll have time, since my dispatch is for 10am.
From the 'Who would really believe this?' department, I got a beep mere seconds ago. Another pre-plan. I'll be picking up about 35 miles from where I drop in the morning, then heading back to Pennsylvania for Monday. I actually have a working communications system on my truck for a change and the planners are actually planning for a change. I think I could get used to this. Hell, even the occasional Hazleton-Reading-Carlisle fustercluck could be tolerable if they kept me running like this.
I didn't get a Michael's load. Instead I was dispatched to head south to Reading for the first pickup on a WalMart run. Let's see how it went...
There was the misty rain, enough to make me use the wipers but not enough to let the wipers accomplish anything. That was nice.
There was the trying to maintain traction as I constantly had to accelerate and decelerate on slick roads. I enjoyed that part.
There were the hairpin mountain turns. Big fun.
There were the people hurrying to work and cutting me off, only to slam on their brakes and turn down the next street, over and over again. That was pretty cool.
There were the little coal mining towns where the main drag had enough room for one and a half lanes of traffic, but two lanes had to get through. I really liked that part.
There were the dubiously marked state highway interchanges that, if I missed one, would lead to a fifty mile drive down a street from which there may be no getting out. Always a plus.
There was the sign for highway 12 west, but no highway 12 east, even though I had to go east. Just as I had planned.
There were the signs directing trucks not to follow the state route through Reading, but to follow the alternate signs that just disappeared after two blocks, leaving me in a residential area and completely screwed. I always like that.
After I went through a few neighborhoods and somehow found my way back to the customer's location, there was the right turn with parked cars on both sides, where the only option was to pass up the turn, cut the wheel left, back up a little, cut the wheel right, pull forward a little, and repeat several times. People really should appreciate those more.
There was the way I had to back in off the street to a dock that was designed for 26' straight trucks, leaving my tractor jacked sideways all the way across the street. Those are pretty neat.
There was leaving the customer and having to drive a quarter mile with the doors open before I could find a spot without parked cars on both sides, leaving enough room to close them. Plenty of intrigue there.
There was the drive from Reading to my second pickup in Carlisle. While not nearly as eventful as the first one, it did take two hours to go 70 miles. I'm pretty sure they erected 150 extra red lights on US 422 in honor of my trip.
There was the 'no idling' rule at the second stop, making the 90% humidity much more enjoyable for me.
Oh, and let's not forget about the seven bills of lading that I had to enter into the MobileMax. That's a thrilling twenty minutes.
There was the rollercoaster section of PA-94 heading south from Reading. Well, actually, that was pretty fun. Nevermind that one.
There was the rush hour traffic on US-15 in Frederick. One of my favorite things.
And there was the fact that I was going to hit the D.C. Beltway right at 5pm sharp.
What was I talking about anyway? Oh yeah, I should have known what today would be like. That's right. The overriding thought going through my mind this morning was, "I didn't sign up for this shit!" All I needed were Holmes and Watson to analyze what happened and it would have been perfect.
Time out dude. I've had enough for one day. I pulled into the Maryland scales about a half hour from the beltway. I'll take a nap here, make it an eight hour break, then finish off over night. I'll be looking at one of two scenarios. Either I'll make it to the customer within the six hours that I'll have available, or I'll run out and have to take a two hour break before continuing. Either way I'll have time, since my dispatch is for 10am.
From the 'Who would really believe this?' department, I got a beep mere seconds ago. Another pre-plan. I'll be picking up about 35 miles from where I drop in the morning, then heading back to Pennsylvania for Monday. I actually have a working communications system on my truck for a change and the planners are actually planning for a change. I think I could get used to this. Hell, even the occasional Hazleton-Reading-Carlisle fustercluck could be tolerable if they kept me running like this.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
8/23/07
I caught a pretty big break in terms of the timing of today's run. I thought I was scheduled for midnight, so I planned to arrive at 11pm. My appointment was actually 11pm, so I'm lucky I was there. The construction in Pennsylvania almost conspired against me, but I pulled it off.
Before leaving Indiana I got a shower and a shave, then donned the all-important Notre Dame t-shirt for today's drive. The season is almost upon us and I'm getting a little restless.
I was taking US-30 across Indiana and Ohio because I really wasn't in the mood to use the turnpike on this run. I'm not sure exactly why. I just didn't feel like it. 30 is a pretty mellow ride for the most part. If the Eagles ever do a sequel called Life in the Granny Lane, I think they should hire me as a lyrical consultant. Nobody observes the 55mph limit for trucks in Ohio. I'm one of those Irish guys with bad luck though, so I keep it at 55. Today I had a Swiftie pass me, most likely at his 65mph maximum, right in front of a cop. No reaction. The day I decide to follow the crowd across Ohio will be the day some cop just caught his wife screwing his brother and he'll take it out on me.
The timing worked out perfectly for me in terms of hitting the jog up 71 to 76 and past Akron after rush hour. For a relatively small city, Akron gets a hell of a backup going in the afternoon. Then into Pennsylvania and bring on the hills. 44,000 pounds pretty much sucks on I-80, but such is life.
I checked in with the customer and the guy directed me to a dock across from the rest. As far as the docks at that customer go, this was the easiest to reach. Cool. You know though... I've been at this for a while now and I think I've gotten the hang of it for the most part. Every now and then, I have to wonder. I lined up the trailer, squared away the tractor, eased it back to the dock. Everything sounds cool, right? Yeah, I forgot to open the doors. What a jackass. Oh well, I guess you're never too experienced to look like an idiot every now and then. First I walk into the office at the last minute, then I don't know that the doors need to be open to get the freight out.
Once I got empty I was left with the task of finding a place to lay down for the night. As I suspected, the nearest truck stop was full. I headed up that way, even though I didn't expect to have a spot available, because we pick up freight from a Michael's distribution center in a neighboring industrial park. I have a hunch that's where I'll go in the morning. We'll see. Anyhow, on a previous trip I accidentally found an area of the industrial park that hasn't been developed yet. It's back in the middle of nowhere such that I won't be bothering anybody, so this is home tonight. Sometimes you have to create your own rest area out here.
This pay period is like night and day compared to the last one, at least so far. Eight days in the books and I'm at 3717 miles. Let's hope it keeps up. Another day or two of good running will leave me up against my 70 hours though. I'm hoping something picking up tomorrow and occupying my weekend will be in the cards, but that Micheal's DC would throw a wrench in those dreams. Most of the loads out of there go somewhere within a day's drive. Time will tell. Time will surely tell.
Before leaving Indiana I got a shower and a shave, then donned the all-important Notre Dame t-shirt for today's drive. The season is almost upon us and I'm getting a little restless.
I was taking US-30 across Indiana and Ohio because I really wasn't in the mood to use the turnpike on this run. I'm not sure exactly why. I just didn't feel like it. 30 is a pretty mellow ride for the most part. If the Eagles ever do a sequel called Life in the Granny Lane, I think they should hire me as a lyrical consultant. Nobody observes the 55mph limit for trucks in Ohio. I'm one of those Irish guys with bad luck though, so I keep it at 55. Today I had a Swiftie pass me, most likely at his 65mph maximum, right in front of a cop. No reaction. The day I decide to follow the crowd across Ohio will be the day some cop just caught his wife screwing his brother and he'll take it out on me.
The timing worked out perfectly for me in terms of hitting the jog up 71 to 76 and past Akron after rush hour. For a relatively small city, Akron gets a hell of a backup going in the afternoon. Then into Pennsylvania and bring on the hills. 44,000 pounds pretty much sucks on I-80, but such is life.
I checked in with the customer and the guy directed me to a dock across from the rest. As far as the docks at that customer go, this was the easiest to reach. Cool. You know though... I've been at this for a while now and I think I've gotten the hang of it for the most part. Every now and then, I have to wonder. I lined up the trailer, squared away the tractor, eased it back to the dock. Everything sounds cool, right? Yeah, I forgot to open the doors. What a jackass. Oh well, I guess you're never too experienced to look like an idiot every now and then. First I walk into the office at the last minute, then I don't know that the doors need to be open to get the freight out.
Once I got empty I was left with the task of finding a place to lay down for the night. As I suspected, the nearest truck stop was full. I headed up that way, even though I didn't expect to have a spot available, because we pick up freight from a Michael's distribution center in a neighboring industrial park. I have a hunch that's where I'll go in the morning. We'll see. Anyhow, on a previous trip I accidentally found an area of the industrial park that hasn't been developed yet. It's back in the middle of nowhere such that I won't be bothering anybody, so this is home tonight. Sometimes you have to create your own rest area out here.
This pay period is like night and day compared to the last one, at least so far. Eight days in the books and I'm at 3717 miles. Let's hope it keeps up. Another day or two of good running will leave me up against my 70 hours though. I'm hoping something picking up tomorrow and occupying my weekend will be in the cards, but that Micheal's DC would throw a wrench in those dreams. Most of the loads out of there go somewhere within a day's drive. Time will tell. Time will surely tell.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
8/22/07
First things first, I still don't give a rat's ass about Michael Vick.
I ran my ass off today, efficiently and happily, so it was a good day. I am wondering if someone in Joplin is messing with me, but more on that later.
I was asleep in Champaign this morning when thunder woke me up. I've been wondering when all of that rain in the northern states was going to find me, so I assumed this was it. As it turned out, it was much sound and fury signifying nothing. A lot of thunder, but hardly any rain. By the time I got rolling everything had blown through.
I was running up 294 on the west side of Chicago when I saw the dreaded orange barrels and brake lights. Shit, here we go... Actually there was someone stalled in the left lane and everything got rolling once we passed him. Nice. I didn't have much extra time, so a traffic jam would have sucked.
At the customer, I was told to wait in my truck because they had a truck scheduled ahead of me. As I sat (watching five other trucks come and go), I was actually quite taken by the spectacle on my windshield. A bunch of bees were hovering around my truck. They took turns working on the carcasses of the bugs that had met their demise as I rolled through Illinois yesterday. By the time the guy came out and told me to back in, they had cleaned my windshield almost completely. All that was left was the dried-up white residue. Pretty interesting.
The forklift driver worked quickly, having me empty within a half hour. As he counted the boxes and pallets that he had pulled off my truck, he looked a little puzzled. The 21 pallets matched the paperwork, but he counted 295 cases while the bills said 554 cases. Great, now what? It only took me a second to figure out the problem. There were eight huge boxes with different piece counts written on top. One had 34 cases, one 36, and so on. The forklift driver had counted each one as a single box. The boss man started giving me shit about how they only count what they can see, and the shipper shouldn't have loaded things that way. Yeah, well tell the shipper then. What the hell did he want me to do about it? I helped the forklift guy open up the big boxes and count the cases inside. No big deal, but the boss man made a point of bitching at me a few more times. Okay dude, I'll drive back to Houston and have a talk with your shipper. For Pete's sake, man...
Anyhow, on my way to that stop I had received a pre-plan (yes, you read that right, a pre-plan) to pick up a load of tires in Dekalb, Illinois and run it down to Lafayette, Indiana. My dispatch allowed just enough time to get there and not a minute more. The drop and hook at the Goodyear plant went smoothly and, while I was closing up the trailer and the guard was sealing it, they sent me another pre-plan. What has the world come to?
Okay, now for the back story. I've been pretty critical of the planners lately. I went as far as to blast away at them in a private forum on the CFI Drivers message board. I was frustrated and blowing off some steam, but one of the bosses at CFI decided to fire back at me. Being myself, I gave back a little more rhetorical business of my own. Fair enough, discourse is discourse. Through the back and forth with me, concurrent with a seperate issue that another driver on the forum was having, the folks in Joplin said their piece. I disagree with their approach, but it's their company so I don't lose any sleep over it. They certainly don't run things to please me, nor should they. My point all along was that they should do a better job of looking beyond the here and now, and set us up for more efficient use of our time. As good as my miles and earnings have been as I've started in this profession, things could be even better. So, the conspiracy theorist in me, after receiving my second pre-plan in one day and my fourth tight dispatch in a row, started to think someone was saying, "You wanna run, do you? Take that." To which I would reply, "Bring it on fellas." As long as I'm legal, I can go until the wheels fall off. In reality the timing of these runs is just an odd coincidence, but it still made me chuckle.
So anyway, the run to Lafayette was another just-in-time arrival. I grabbed an empty there and headed north to Kouts, Indiana to grab my next load. As I drove toward the shipper, I seemed to remember going there before but I couldn't picture the place. Once I got there, I remembered...[Cue the memory machine here] One of my first runs picked up at that shipper last summer. When I arrived, there was a CFI truck parked on the driveway with his lights off and his curtain drawn. I was two hours early, so I pulled in behind him and watched TV for a while. Fifteen minutes before my appointment, he was still apparently sleeping, so I went inside and was assigned to a dock. After I backed in, the other CFI driver came around the corner and parked next to me. I was catching up my log book when he knocked on my door. What followed was awesome...
Him: You shouldn't be cutting in front of people like that. That's a good way to get your ass kicked!
Me: I had a 10:00 appointment, so I had to check in.
Him: Yeah, well so did I!
Me: How the hell am I supposed to know when your appointment is? You were sleeping.
Him: You never heard of knocking and waking me up?
Me: Dude, I'm not waking you up to do your job. I kept my appointment.
Him: That's a good way to get your ass kicked!
Me: Hang on a second.
[Picture me getting out of my truck, thoroughly amused by the prospect of this old man kicking my ass. That would be a story to tell the grandkids.]
Me: Did you just say you're gonna kick my ass?
Him [walking back to his truck]: You shouldn't be cutting in front of people. I'm calling in on you buddy!
Me: Tell them I said hi.
I don't know if the written word does that scene justice, but it was really funny, I swear. A month into my career, I was about to get beat up by an old guy. This job was even more interesting that I thought it would be.
Tonight though, no drama. They loaded me very quickly and I got back on the road. I stopped in Plymouth, Indiana to scale my load and fill the tanks, and my 14 hours had run out, so here's home for the night.
Tomorrow I'll have a full day of driving to get to the consignee in eastern Pennsylvania. My dispatch says I have to be there by midnight and my instructions say I can't deliver early, so I'll make a call or two in the morning to get clarification. If the dispatch and the instructions are both correct, I won't be able to leave here until 10am at the earliest, on account of the 14 hour rule. Even then, I'll be hard pressed to find a place to shut down for the night once I'm empty. I'm hoping I can get rid of the load some time in the evening, but I guess I'll have to wait and see.
I ran my ass off today, efficiently and happily, so it was a good day. I am wondering if someone in Joplin is messing with me, but more on that later.
I was asleep in Champaign this morning when thunder woke me up. I've been wondering when all of that rain in the northern states was going to find me, so I assumed this was it. As it turned out, it was much sound and fury signifying nothing. A lot of thunder, but hardly any rain. By the time I got rolling everything had blown through.
I was running up 294 on the west side of Chicago when I saw the dreaded orange barrels and brake lights. Shit, here we go... Actually there was someone stalled in the left lane and everything got rolling once we passed him. Nice. I didn't have much extra time, so a traffic jam would have sucked.
At the customer, I was told to wait in my truck because they had a truck scheduled ahead of me. As I sat (watching five other trucks come and go), I was actually quite taken by the spectacle on my windshield. A bunch of bees were hovering around my truck. They took turns working on the carcasses of the bugs that had met their demise as I rolled through Illinois yesterday. By the time the guy came out and told me to back in, they had cleaned my windshield almost completely. All that was left was the dried-up white residue. Pretty interesting.
The forklift driver worked quickly, having me empty within a half hour. As he counted the boxes and pallets that he had pulled off my truck, he looked a little puzzled. The 21 pallets matched the paperwork, but he counted 295 cases while the bills said 554 cases. Great, now what? It only took me a second to figure out the problem. There were eight huge boxes with different piece counts written on top. One had 34 cases, one 36, and so on. The forklift driver had counted each one as a single box. The boss man started giving me shit about how they only count what they can see, and the shipper shouldn't have loaded things that way. Yeah, well tell the shipper then. What the hell did he want me to do about it? I helped the forklift guy open up the big boxes and count the cases inside. No big deal, but the boss man made a point of bitching at me a few more times. Okay dude, I'll drive back to Houston and have a talk with your shipper. For Pete's sake, man...
Anyhow, on my way to that stop I had received a pre-plan (yes, you read that right, a pre-plan) to pick up a load of tires in Dekalb, Illinois and run it down to Lafayette, Indiana. My dispatch allowed just enough time to get there and not a minute more. The drop and hook at the Goodyear plant went smoothly and, while I was closing up the trailer and the guard was sealing it, they sent me another pre-plan. What has the world come to?
Okay, now for the back story. I've been pretty critical of the planners lately. I went as far as to blast away at them in a private forum on the CFI Drivers message board. I was frustrated and blowing off some steam, but one of the bosses at CFI decided to fire back at me. Being myself, I gave back a little more rhetorical business of my own. Fair enough, discourse is discourse. Through the back and forth with me, concurrent with a seperate issue that another driver on the forum was having, the folks in Joplin said their piece. I disagree with their approach, but it's their company so I don't lose any sleep over it. They certainly don't run things to please me, nor should they. My point all along was that they should do a better job of looking beyond the here and now, and set us up for more efficient use of our time. As good as my miles and earnings have been as I've started in this profession, things could be even better. So, the conspiracy theorist in me, after receiving my second pre-plan in one day and my fourth tight dispatch in a row, started to think someone was saying, "You wanna run, do you? Take that." To which I would reply, "Bring it on fellas." As long as I'm legal, I can go until the wheels fall off. In reality the timing of these runs is just an odd coincidence, but it still made me chuckle.
So anyway, the run to Lafayette was another just-in-time arrival. I grabbed an empty there and headed north to Kouts, Indiana to grab my next load. As I drove toward the shipper, I seemed to remember going there before but I couldn't picture the place. Once I got there, I remembered...[Cue the memory machine here] One of my first runs picked up at that shipper last summer. When I arrived, there was a CFI truck parked on the driveway with his lights off and his curtain drawn. I was two hours early, so I pulled in behind him and watched TV for a while. Fifteen minutes before my appointment, he was still apparently sleeping, so I went inside and was assigned to a dock. After I backed in, the other CFI driver came around the corner and parked next to me. I was catching up my log book when he knocked on my door. What followed was awesome...
Him: You shouldn't be cutting in front of people like that. That's a good way to get your ass kicked!
Me: I had a 10:00 appointment, so I had to check in.
Him: Yeah, well so did I!
Me: How the hell am I supposed to know when your appointment is? You were sleeping.
Him: You never heard of knocking and waking me up?
Me: Dude, I'm not waking you up to do your job. I kept my appointment.
Him: That's a good way to get your ass kicked!
Me: Hang on a second.
[Picture me getting out of my truck, thoroughly amused by the prospect of this old man kicking my ass. That would be a story to tell the grandkids.]
Me: Did you just say you're gonna kick my ass?
Him [walking back to his truck]: You shouldn't be cutting in front of people. I'm calling in on you buddy!
Me: Tell them I said hi.
I don't know if the written word does that scene justice, but it was really funny, I swear. A month into my career, I was about to get beat up by an old guy. This job was even more interesting that I thought it would be.
Tonight though, no drama. They loaded me very quickly and I got back on the road. I stopped in Plymouth, Indiana to scale my load and fill the tanks, and my 14 hours had run out, so here's home for the night.
Tomorrow I'll have a full day of driving to get to the consignee in eastern Pennsylvania. My dispatch says I have to be there by midnight and my instructions say I can't deliver early, so I'll make a call or two in the morning to get clarification. If the dispatch and the instructions are both correct, I won't be able to leave here until 10am at the earliest, on account of the 14 hour rule. Even then, I'll be hard pressed to find a place to shut down for the night once I'm empty. I'm hoping I can get rid of the load some time in the evening, but I guess I'll have to wait and see.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
8/21/07
First I have to get something off my chest. I don't give a rat's ass about Michael Vick. There, I said it, that's better. I could not find anything on the radio all day without Michael Vick coming up at some point. Sports stations, talk stations, news stations, political stations. People need to let it go.
So anyway, today was a good day of running for a change. I hit very few slow spots, aside from my fuel stop. Here's a suggestion for people considering joining this business. If your prospective employer mentions the word 'Transflo,' run, don't walk, in the other direction. Most companies have you send your paperwork in via TripPak, an overnight envelope delivery service. Some have gone to scanning the documents at truck stops for instant delivery, aka Transflo. Screw that. After I got my fuel, I wanted to pay for the soda and bratwurst that I grabbed. There was a line of guys a mile long waiting to scan their paperwork. I just dropped mine in the box and I was done. Luckily the manager saw that I didn't need to wait among that conflagration so he took care of me at an open register. Otherwise I might still be there. Poor bastards.
Once I hit Illinois, it was time to kick back and watch people pass me. The speed limit is 55 here, so I drive 55 here. Nobody else does. The days are few and far between that the Swifties and Schneiders and JB's are flying by on my left, but this was one of them.
Since I was in the right lane going slowly and didn't really have to worry much about traffic, I got into a bit of a zone and didn't even realize how many miles I was covering. I had to answer nature's call by the time I got to Champaign, so I pulled into a little truck stop to handle my business. When I got back out and took a look at my log book, I realized I had driven eleven hours. Game over for today. That was a strange experience. Usually the last few hours of a long day drag and drag. Today it was almost like time travel or something.
I'll have a few hours left at the crack of dawn to run to my customer. I'm going to be skirting the west side of the Chicago scene, so I'm hoping for no major delays. Getting my ten hour break in and then finishing the run will not leave a lot of time for traffic jams.
So anyway, today was a good day of running for a change. I hit very few slow spots, aside from my fuel stop. Here's a suggestion for people considering joining this business. If your prospective employer mentions the word 'Transflo,' run, don't walk, in the other direction. Most companies have you send your paperwork in via TripPak, an overnight envelope delivery service. Some have gone to scanning the documents at truck stops for instant delivery, aka Transflo. Screw that. After I got my fuel, I wanted to pay for the soda and bratwurst that I grabbed. There was a line of guys a mile long waiting to scan their paperwork. I just dropped mine in the box and I was done. Luckily the manager saw that I didn't need to wait among that conflagration so he took care of me at an open register. Otherwise I might still be there. Poor bastards.
Once I hit Illinois, it was time to kick back and watch people pass me. The speed limit is 55 here, so I drive 55 here. Nobody else does. The days are few and far between that the Swifties and Schneiders and JB's are flying by on my left, but this was one of them.
Since I was in the right lane going slowly and didn't really have to worry much about traffic, I got into a bit of a zone and didn't even realize how many miles I was covering. I had to answer nature's call by the time I got to Champaign, so I pulled into a little truck stop to handle my business. When I got back out and took a look at my log book, I realized I had driven eleven hours. Game over for today. That was a strange experience. Usually the last few hours of a long day drag and drag. Today it was almost like time travel or something.
I'll have a few hours left at the crack of dawn to run to my customer. I'm going to be skirting the west side of the Chicago scene, so I'm hoping for no major delays. Getting my ten hour break in and then finishing the run will not leave a lot of time for traffic jams.
Monday, August 20, 2007
8/20/07
Houston, good bye and good riddance. Texas, good bye and good riddance. South, good bye and good riddance. Of course, now that I've said that, I'll end up catching some crap back to El Paso in a couple of days, but for now I'm headed to the Midwest where I belong.
I got into Houston in the middle of the night, which is always a good move. The traffic can get quite snarled during the day. My directions to the first drop related to I-10, but I came in on I-45 so I had to come up with my own approach. A couple of the streets I chose looked pretty major on a map, but looked pretty tiny in person. No biggie though, at 3am you can get away with that sort of thing most of the time.
I checked in with the security guard at the customer and he told me to park by the other trucks. I set my alarm for 8am (my time) as my appointment was for 8am Central. At 6:30 (my time) the dude woke me up and told me to open the doors. I'm pretty sure I was sailing somewhere through outer space at that point, but I managed to pull it together enough to make sure I was at the right dock. My instructions said, "Door 52 or 60." Both of those doors had trucks in front of them, so I was parked at door 50. He told me that it was 52 or 50 and I was good to go. More miscommunication from the CSR's, par for the course.
After I got empty there, I headed to the second drop, maybe five miles away. I was on the eastbound beltway service drive and made a boneheaded decision to use the U-turn lane to go back westbound, where my customer was located. In El Paso and Laredo, the U-turn lanes are cut out for big trucks. Not so in Houston. I didn't hit anything, but it was a lot closer than I would have liked. I had to run the trailer tires across the corner of a curb. That's not a huge deal if handled carefully, but next time I'll be taking the long way around.
My second appointment was scheduled, according to the master communicators upstairs in Joplin, for 11am Central. According to my paperwork, it was for 10am Central. I showed up at 7:30am Central. Nobody home. I set my alarm and laid back down. Whatever I was dreaming about (and I have no idea what that was), it came to involve a distant clanging sound. After a minute or two, I snapped out of dreamland and realized that the clanging sound was real. Instead of coming out to wake me up, the lazy peckerhead at the dock was banging something on the side of my trailer to let me know he was there. So again, pulled forward, opened the doors, got unloaded, usual routine.
The shipper's instructions required that I fax the bills with the first and last names of the persons on duty at each consignee once I was empty. The nearest sensible place to go was the Flying J on I-45, just north of the beltway. That was Mr. Joe's first and last visit to the Flying J on I-45, just north of the beltway. What a freaking zoo. One would think that, late in the morning, the place would be relatively calm. No way, it was jam-packed. I found a spot, completely botched my setup, and held up traffic for a few minutes while I got myself squared away. Shortly after sending my fax the next beep came over my communications system.
I was to head back to the general neighborhood I had just left and... wait for it... it's coming... almost there... ACTUALLY DRIVE FOR THE NEXT COUPLE OF DAYS. Holy shit, after the way the last week has gone I had forgotten what it was like to have more than one day of work lined up. I'm headed to the suburbs of Chicago where I'll drop off Wednesday morning. This latest dispatch will mean that, six days into the pay period, I'll be at 2,763 miles, with hours to run, and out of the South. Gotta love it. Just when I was ready to go home and get drunk for a day or two, they've actually got me feeling like a driver again. I won't have to put in for home time just to break the routine, so my 20 days are still in the bank.
I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow, crossing Arkansas and then angling up through Missouri and into Illinois. I probably should have gone a little further tonight, but I'm trying to wind up a couple of hours out of Chicago tomorrow. That way I'll have a good shot at finding a place to park for the night.
I got into Houston in the middle of the night, which is always a good move. The traffic can get quite snarled during the day. My directions to the first drop related to I-10, but I came in on I-45 so I had to come up with my own approach. A couple of the streets I chose looked pretty major on a map, but looked pretty tiny in person. No biggie though, at 3am you can get away with that sort of thing most of the time.
I checked in with the security guard at the customer and he told me to park by the other trucks. I set my alarm for 8am (my time) as my appointment was for 8am Central. At 6:30 (my time) the dude woke me up and told me to open the doors. I'm pretty sure I was sailing somewhere through outer space at that point, but I managed to pull it together enough to make sure I was at the right dock. My instructions said, "Door 52 or 60." Both of those doors had trucks in front of them, so I was parked at door 50. He told me that it was 52 or 50 and I was good to go. More miscommunication from the CSR's, par for the course.
After I got empty there, I headed to the second drop, maybe five miles away. I was on the eastbound beltway service drive and made a boneheaded decision to use the U-turn lane to go back westbound, where my customer was located. In El Paso and Laredo, the U-turn lanes are cut out for big trucks. Not so in Houston. I didn't hit anything, but it was a lot closer than I would have liked. I had to run the trailer tires across the corner of a curb. That's not a huge deal if handled carefully, but next time I'll be taking the long way around.
My second appointment was scheduled, according to the master communicators upstairs in Joplin, for 11am Central. According to my paperwork, it was for 10am Central. I showed up at 7:30am Central. Nobody home. I set my alarm and laid back down. Whatever I was dreaming about (and I have no idea what that was), it came to involve a distant clanging sound. After a minute or two, I snapped out of dreamland and realized that the clanging sound was real. Instead of coming out to wake me up, the lazy peckerhead at the dock was banging something on the side of my trailer to let me know he was there. So again, pulled forward, opened the doors, got unloaded, usual routine.
The shipper's instructions required that I fax the bills with the first and last names of the persons on duty at each consignee once I was empty. The nearest sensible place to go was the Flying J on I-45, just north of the beltway. That was Mr. Joe's first and last visit to the Flying J on I-45, just north of the beltway. What a freaking zoo. One would think that, late in the morning, the place would be relatively calm. No way, it was jam-packed. I found a spot, completely botched my setup, and held up traffic for a few minutes while I got myself squared away. Shortly after sending my fax the next beep came over my communications system.
I was to head back to the general neighborhood I had just left and... wait for it... it's coming... almost there... ACTUALLY DRIVE FOR THE NEXT COUPLE OF DAYS. Holy shit, after the way the last week has gone I had forgotten what it was like to have more than one day of work lined up. I'm headed to the suburbs of Chicago where I'll drop off Wednesday morning. This latest dispatch will mean that, six days into the pay period, I'll be at 2,763 miles, with hours to run, and out of the South. Gotta love it. Just when I was ready to go home and get drunk for a day or two, they've actually got me feeling like a driver again. I won't have to put in for home time just to break the routine, so my 20 days are still in the bank.
I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow, crossing Arkansas and then angling up through Missouri and into Illinois. I probably should have gone a little further tonight, but I'm trying to wind up a couple of hours out of Chicago tomorrow. That way I'll have a good shot at finding a place to park for the night.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
8/19/07
Well, I tossed and turned, per usual, and wound up falling asleep around 5am this morning. My communications system beeped at 8am and I thought to myself, "Please let me have enough time to sleep a little more." Yeah, be careful what you wish for. I'm honestly at a loss to explain it. I was scheduled to pick up in Dallas, 25 miles away, at 10pm tonight. Then I had to run to Houston overnight for two drops in the morning. I can't seem to buy a mile these days. If they don't get me something good tomorrow, I'm just going to highlight for home and take a day off. The frustration is getting to me at this point, and I'm not one who is prone to frustration.
I hung out at the T/A most of the day and took a nice nap before heading over to the customer at DFW airport. I planned my route, 35 south to 35E south to 121 southwest to 114 southeast to the airport. No problemo, senor. But when I saw the sign for 121, it said "Toll." My atlas didn't indicate that it was a toll road. Some of these suburban toll roads can be wicked expensive for trucks and I don't have much cash with me, so I kept rolling down 35E and had to re-route on the fly. The sign for 635 west said "DFW Airport" so that was a start. Once I got on 635, I started trying to find my destination in my atlas. Driving while map reading: not good. I realized after about two seconds that there was just too much traffic for me to be doing that, so I started looking for a long exit ramp where I could safely get my truck off the road.
A couple of miles down, I saw the exit for Freeport Parkway, which is the street that runs into the airport. Normally, you don't want to be taking unknown routes in cities, for fear of low bridges, restricted routes, and the like. In Texas, fifteen feet is considered a low bridge so I had a feeling I would be fine there. Since Freeport Parkway runs right into the airport, I was reasonably comfortable that I could take a truck down it. It was fine, a little tight as it weaved through an office park, but fine.
I checked in with the shipper about an hour and a half before my scheduled appointment. People often hear me carp about a lack of communication in this business. Well, here's some more carping. I went to the door with the security guard inside. He told me that the entrance at the other end of the building was where I needed to be, then added this little nugget. "They've been waiting for you down there for a while." So, I could have spent less time at the T/A with my thumb up my ass and picked it up earlier? Of course, nobody told me. I was waiting until closer to the appointment time because, under the 14 hour rule, my hours will most likely run out by the time I deliver my two drops. If I started earlier and the customers wouldn't unload me early, I would be running afoul of the law by the time I got empty. If I had known the customer was already waiting for me, I could have given myself enough time to get either an eight or a ten hour break and allow myself more flexibility for tomorrow. Of course, these concepts are completely over the head of the dude sitting at a desk and assigning loads, so what can you do?
The dock was a pretty tight one, designed for day cabs and 48 foot trailers. As time goes on though, I get more and more of a feel on how to approach the various challenges. In this case, staying wide and jackknifing the trailer sharply into the hole was the best approach. Then it took a few pullups to get my tractor squared away. The load is a heavy one, over 40,000 pounds, but it's pretty well balanced. Sometimes this overnight logistics stuff can be loaded funny, but this load isn't bad.
I pulled into a rest area north of Houston to take a piss, and the bastards lined up along the ramp left almost no room for trucks to get through. I had to put it in low gear, ride the clutch, and navigate my way through with about six inches on either side. Bullshit! Why can't someone give these guys a ticket? If you came off the highway any faster than I did, there's a good chance you were going to have an accident.
Since my connection speed here is pretty good, I decided to catch up my e-mails and pay a few bills. Payday is usually the 19th, but it was the 20th this month on account of the 19th falling on a Sunday. I got $60 in detention pay for a load I hauled a couple of months ago, so my gross actually wound up above my self-imposed $2,000 minimum. That was a pleasant surprise. Now if we can just get some freaking miles rolling and get out of this rut, I'll be good to go. I'm planning a week or so off in mid-September, so banking some extra bucks wouldn't hurt right now. I have a feeling that tomorrow won't have the kind of outcome I'm hoping for, since I'm going to be against a ten hour break by the time I get empty. If it's another bullshit run, I'll just highlight and force them to run me back north. That way I can take a day off and maybe break out of the pattern into which I seem to have fallen lately.
I hung out at the T/A most of the day and took a nice nap before heading over to the customer at DFW airport. I planned my route, 35 south to 35E south to 121 southwest to 114 southeast to the airport. No problemo, senor. But when I saw the sign for 121, it said "Toll." My atlas didn't indicate that it was a toll road. Some of these suburban toll roads can be wicked expensive for trucks and I don't have much cash with me, so I kept rolling down 35E and had to re-route on the fly. The sign for 635 west said "DFW Airport" so that was a start. Once I got on 635, I started trying to find my destination in my atlas. Driving while map reading: not good. I realized after about two seconds that there was just too much traffic for me to be doing that, so I started looking for a long exit ramp where I could safely get my truck off the road.
A couple of miles down, I saw the exit for Freeport Parkway, which is the street that runs into the airport. Normally, you don't want to be taking unknown routes in cities, for fear of low bridges, restricted routes, and the like. In Texas, fifteen feet is considered a low bridge so I had a feeling I would be fine there. Since Freeport Parkway runs right into the airport, I was reasonably comfortable that I could take a truck down it. It was fine, a little tight as it weaved through an office park, but fine.
I checked in with the shipper about an hour and a half before my scheduled appointment. People often hear me carp about a lack of communication in this business. Well, here's some more carping. I went to the door with the security guard inside. He told me that the entrance at the other end of the building was where I needed to be, then added this little nugget. "They've been waiting for you down there for a while." So, I could have spent less time at the T/A with my thumb up my ass and picked it up earlier? Of course, nobody told me. I was waiting until closer to the appointment time because, under the 14 hour rule, my hours will most likely run out by the time I deliver my two drops. If I started earlier and the customers wouldn't unload me early, I would be running afoul of the law by the time I got empty. If I had known the customer was already waiting for me, I could have given myself enough time to get either an eight or a ten hour break and allow myself more flexibility for tomorrow. Of course, these concepts are completely over the head of the dude sitting at a desk and assigning loads, so what can you do?
The dock was a pretty tight one, designed for day cabs and 48 foot trailers. As time goes on though, I get more and more of a feel on how to approach the various challenges. In this case, staying wide and jackknifing the trailer sharply into the hole was the best approach. Then it took a few pullups to get my tractor squared away. The load is a heavy one, over 40,000 pounds, but it's pretty well balanced. Sometimes this overnight logistics stuff can be loaded funny, but this load isn't bad.
I pulled into a rest area north of Houston to take a piss, and the bastards lined up along the ramp left almost no room for trucks to get through. I had to put it in low gear, ride the clutch, and navigate my way through with about six inches on either side. Bullshit! Why can't someone give these guys a ticket? If you came off the highway any faster than I did, there's a good chance you were going to have an accident.
Since my connection speed here is pretty good, I decided to catch up my e-mails and pay a few bills. Payday is usually the 19th, but it was the 20th this month on account of the 19th falling on a Sunday. I got $60 in detention pay for a load I hauled a couple of months ago, so my gross actually wound up above my self-imposed $2,000 minimum. That was a pleasant surprise. Now if we can just get some freaking miles rolling and get out of this rut, I'll be good to go. I'm planning a week or so off in mid-September, so banking some extra bucks wouldn't hurt right now. I have a feeling that tomorrow won't have the kind of outcome I'm hoping for, since I'm going to be against a ten hour break by the time I get empty. If it's another bullshit run, I'll just highlight and force them to run me back north. That way I can take a day off and maybe break out of the pattern into which I seem to have fallen lately.
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