1/15/08

I'm not generally one to give advice to other truck drivers, but here is some: If you can't drive in the snow, just take the freaking night off. Park your truck. Get some sleep. Wait for the sun to come up. Nobody will think any less of you, I promise.

It was a slow, snowy, sloppy affair on the way up to Traverse City. The roads were clean in some spots and bad in others. The traction was pretty good so I was doing fine. The only issue was the fact that some people were going 20mph and taking up both lanes in the process. 20mph = around $8/hr. = not worth it man. Get the hell off the road. So the time I had to spend navigating my way around those people made the trip a little longer than it needed to be.

I got in to Traverse City about an hour early and pulled into the beer distributor's lot. Before I continue, let's entertain a hypothetical...

Let's suppose (hypothetically) that you drove into an icy parking lot this morning. Let's suppose (hypothetically) that the docks were at the bottom of a ramp that sloped toward the building. Let's suppose (hypothetically) that you parked at the top of that ramp, set your brakes, and went to the door in order to see if the receiver wanted to check the seal. Let's suppose (hypothetically) that, as he opened the door and started to talk to you, your truck began sliding backwards down the ramp toward the docks. If one phrase were (hypothetically) to come out of your mouth, what do you think that phrase would be?

I am 100% positive that I know what I would have said. I know, with absolute certainty, that I would have interrupted the gentleman and said, "Holy shit, check out my truck!" It would have been (in this purely hypothetical scenario) too far away for me to do anything about it. It would have been squarely pointed at the dock, so it wouldn't have had the potential to do any real damage. And it would have been a sight to behold as it backed itself down the ramp, sliding along the icy surface (hypothetically speaking). Of course, it would have (hypothetically) hit a dry spot and stopped before it reached the building. The dock worker and I would have (hypothetically) laughed our asses off. I would have (hypothetically) had a hell of a time getting enough traction to move it back up the ramp and open the doors. And I would have (hypothetically) had a pretty funny story to share with you tonight. That's all assuming that I had actually delivered to a beer distributor in Traverse City this morning, with its docks at the bottom of an icy ramp. But what would you (hypothetically) have said in such a spot?

Anyhow, where were we? Oh yeah, Traverse City. I went down the street after I was empty and parked at a small truck stop. I received my next assignment almost immediately. Pick up in the middle of the state and go to York, Pennsylvania. Pennsylvania, eh? I thought I was going home today. I needed to use the restroom and buy some food, so I sent a message asking if I was still highlighted for home, then headed inside. I have heard from some people that their highlights have been accidentally removed at times, so I wanted to know if this had happened to me. I wasn't mad about the fifth day or anything like that. I just wanted to check and make sure. By the time I got back out to the truck, I had received two messages from my fleet manager. One message indicated that I was still highlighted. The other informed me that I was to take the load to the Taylor terminal, rather than York, Pennsylvania.

Given the swiftness of the reply and the fact that I had already been given a load more or less going straight past the terminal, I assume that they were probably planning to have me relay the load in the first place. They probably just hadn't gotten around to telling me. As a general rule, the driver is required to be the least informed person involved with a given load. Even if they had sent me to Pennsylvania, I wasn't going to be terribly worried about it. Between going down there and getting back home, I would have made a few hundred extra bucks. It just would have seemed like a waste, since they would have sent me right past my home terminal and then paid me to deadhead back. As it worked out, I dropped the trailer in Taylor and started my home time this afternoon.

The dispatcher in Taylor asked me to leave a set of keys with him before I left. I'm not sure what that's about. I'm not in a spot that could block anybody in and they've never asked for my keys before. Maybe I've been fired and I don't even know it. Whatever the story is, it's no concern of mine for the next eight or nine (maybe more, who knows?) days. I'll go back next week and hopefully my truck will be there waiting for me.