6/2/08

What a long ass day. At least the Red Wings were kind enough to let Pittsburgh tie the game so I could enjoy the overtime period.

It started out decent enough. I headed down to the shipper and got checked in. They were loading us at the far left end of the lot (as you sit in the truck facing outward). This meant that the only way in was to set up on the blindside and back in from there. It was a little tight, but no big deal really. After a few people were settled in and getting loaded, the Swifties started showing up. Now, I know it's not nice to play along with stereotypes, but it really was funny. Every one of the three tried to set up for a standard left hand back. This was completely impossible, given the setup of the dock, yet none of them seemed to figure it out until they were all twisted around and facing a sticky situation. So I played the role of the good neighbor and helped them out. Yeah, I know, I'm a regular humanitarian here.

The drive from Winter Haven up to the consignee wasn't bad. The load was 45,500 pounds, so I basically just kept my ass in the right lane and puttered along. I was relieved to get green lights at each Prepass location since I really didn't have time to scale the load. I was pretty sure I had the axles set up right, based on the last water load that I pulled, but I didn't know for sure.

Shortly after I got rolling, my satellite unit beeped me with a message. Since I had requested home time, I checked to see if it was another pre-plan. A run toward home would have been welcome news. Nope. Just a message saying that my fleet manager wasn't in so we should stay off the phone if possible.

A little while later, I got another beep. Since I had requested home time, I checked to see if it was another pre-plan. A run toward home would have been welcome news. Nope. Just a message saying that our CEO had recorded a new message to the fleet. I had nothing better to do, so I dialed the number. There was a bit about helping people affected by tornadoes, then a spiel about fuel mileage. Apparently we're finally starting to see an uptick in our MPG. Since they started clipping our truck speeds about six months ago, I'd say they're probably not getting the results that they anticipated. So the long and short of it was that we've now gone from "Please get better MPG," to "Pretty pretty please get better MPG." Maybe that approach will work this time, as opposed to the last two years of them saying the same thing. Probably not. I would suggest they take advantage of the pro bono work provided by Fenian Godfather Consulting, but then again I'm a little partial to the work of the folks at FGC.

So anyhow, I rolled along another half hour or so and got yet another beep. This time it was a pre-plan. A drop/hook in Savannah, heading to Taylor, Michigan. Beauty. Nice work guys.

I made the drop in Tifton and then high-tailed it over to Savannah. There were a few hardcore thunderstorms and it was all US highways, so that took a while. I was given directions to a place right by the airport in Savannah, so that's where I went. Ghost town. I called in and asked what was the story, to which the young lady on the phone replied that I could just make my drop/hook and that the paperwork should be in the nose box of the loaded trailer. Yeah, thanks for playing, but there were no trailers there. The place was completely deserted.

Eventually we were able to ascertain that I was supposed to be at a different location, one to which I have actually been one time recently. So I headed up the road a few miles. It was a good thing that this wasn't my first trip there, because I would never have been able to find the place in the dark otherwise. It's pretty well hidden from the main road. Then I got to back into a spot that may or may not have been a spot (it was just wide enough for my empty trailer), in a completely jammed dirt lot, with trailers parked all over the place, and with no lights anywhere around. Lots of trips to the back of the trailer there, but nothing harmed. Then I suppose it should come as no surprise that my loaded trailer was in a ridiculous spot. When you have to "G.O.A.L." four times, to go forward, that's bullshit.

By the time my drop/hook was done, I was out of hours on my 14 hour clock. In a recently common theme, it was getting late and I needed somewhere to park. The industrial park down the street had nothing for me. The Pilot in Port Wentworth had nothing for me. The South Carolina scales had nothing for me. The South Carolina welcome center had nothing for me. I found a spot at the CMV parking area a little further north, so that's that. I don't know exactly how the legalities of that situation would be interpreted, but what can you do? I had to get to a parking space, past 14 hours or otherwise. I guess, as far as you know, I made up this whole paragraph and I'm actually in Savannah. Yeah, that's the ticket.

So I'll jam out a good day of driving tomorrow and roll into Taylor on Wednesday morning. According to the paperwork, this trailer was loaded two days ago and its due in Canada by Wednesday night. If that's the case, I guess I was lucky that it never got assigned to someone else before me. I put in my request on Sunday and I'll be home three days later. Not bad.