3/7/08

To quote the guy pumping fuel next to me at the Pilot this afternoon - "This sucks." Yep, that about sums it up.

I got rolling nice and early today, making two pickups in Buffalo. When I got to the second stop, it started to snow. Both shippers loaded me quickly, so I was in good shape to head for Seymour, Indiana. I had a drop/hook at the Wal-Mart DC on the back end of the run, so the day was set up nicely for me. A little over five hundred miles, a few more bucks in northeast pay, and thirty-five bucks in stop pay, all for one day's work. Then I actually started driving...

New York, for the little while I was in it, wasn't bad. The snowstorm had just reached that area. As the day went on, things got worse... and worse... and worse. You may have heard on the news that our nation's economy lost 63,000 jobs in February. What you probably didn't hear is that those 63,000 lost jobs apparently included every single snow plow driver in Ohio and Indiana. What a debacle. It was pretty damn bad the whole way, and it really did get worse as I went along. The number (and variety) of accidents on I-71 in Ohio was absolutely staggering. On US-50 in Indiana, I was literally following a set of tire tracks and praying that they didn't lead me off the road. The pinnacle was the Wal-Mart lot, where I had to get lined up with my slot, pull forward, shift into reverse, and get a running start in order to back in through a snow drift.

I headed over to the T/A to park for the night. Nope. All full. Every spot, every non-spot, every G-spot, every dog named Spot. Nothin' doin'. I checked my atlas and saw that there is a state scale just north of Seymour. Assuming my next load would come from somewhere north, I headed for the scales. Overflowing with trucks. No dice. Just then I got my next assignment which, of course, would be picking up in Kentucky. So I took the next exit and flipped back onto I-65 southbound. I tried the southbound scales, as I really needed to get off the road for the night. Overflowing with trucks. No dice. Fifteen miles down the road I found a truck stop. Overflowing with trucks, including the assholes who block the driveway, park where they shouldn't, and make it almost impossible to navigate. Ten miles further down was a rest area. Overflowing with trucks, including the assholes who block the driveway, park where they shouldn't, and make it almost imposible to navigate. Another seven miles down I tried the Love's and finally caught a break. This place also has a bunch of assholes parked anywhere and everywhere, but someone left at least one space for me.

And that, my friends, is what we call a long ass day. My log book says I drove eleven hours, so I guess I drove eleven hours. Anyone have a problem with that? Good. I have to drop and hook in Shepherdsville, Kentucky tomorrow by noon and then head for Texas. I have two drops in the Dallas area, I think for Wednesday. That will make this week a really good one. Over 3,000 miles, a bunch of northeast pay, and three extra stops.

To balance it out though, the 800-whatever miles by Wednesday morning is a pretty shitty weekend dispatch. They should have set the load up to drop in Lancaster on Monday and wait for a local guy to deliver it. I'll be three and a half days into next week with zero miles, as it stands right now. If they leave the load with me, I'll qualify for a day of layover pay and take a couple days off in Texas. Of course, I'll probably have to twist some arms to get that paid. Today's paycheck was the sixth one without my pay for unloading the trailer at UPS in January. I sent another message and got another reply saying it was being re-submitted. I fail to see how this is so complicated. Next I'll get to explain that a four day dispatch for 800 miles means 48 hours of down time. We'll have to see how that one goes.

March 7th was a very important date in this nation's history. On that day, in 1957, a saint was born. Without her the world would be a far worse place, if for no other reason than that I wouldn't be here. Happy birthday Mom.