You people think I'm crazy when I say that Holder and the gang are watching me, but look here. They snapped a photo of me as I walked into the motel this afternoon.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
9/5/09
When I heard that the Corleone family had an estate in Peru, I was picturing a scenic outpost high in the Andes. Alas, it's just a Super 8 along the freeway. Good enough. The pay week ends with 2,305 miles and no extra pay, so pretty average I guess. On the back of a very good week last week though, it's all good.
You people think I'm crazy when I say that Holder and the gang are watching me, but look here. They snapped a photo of me as I walked into the motel this afternoon.
You people think I'm crazy when I say that Holder and the gang are watching me, but look here. They snapped a photo of me as I walked into the motel this afternoon.
Friday, September 4, 2009
9/4/09
Do you ever think about the meanings of words? At some point in your life, I'm sure, you must have realized that the notion of a Merriam-Webster definition for everything is more fantasy than reality. While we would like to think that our language is black and white, I think we're endlessly stuck in the shades of gray.
After waking this morning and checking the truck over, I headed eastward along I-80. I stopped at the next Bosselman's along the way, in Wood River, and topped off my fuel tanks. I (begrudgingly) grabbed some lunch and headed back out. No PB&J at that location either. Peckerheads.
I had roughly 1,000 miles to cover between last night's stop and Tuesday morning's consignee, so a 250 miles per day pace would do the trick. My first 250 miles today got me to the western part of Iowa, so I grabbed my directory and checked to see where I could park for the night. There were a few stops listed between Omaha and Des Moines. There was also... wait for it... a Bosselman's in Altoona. Yeah, I stayed on the road for an extra hour and a half. I was determined to get my damn sandwich. So what word do we apply here?
Obsessed? I don't know. To me, that would apply better to ex-girlfriends and the like. Stubborn? My mother likes to resort to that one, but I remain unconvinced. Pitiful? You could certainly apply this to various aspects of my character and easily include my interest in peanut butter and jelly. I'm still not sure that this is the way to go though. I prefer 'determined.' I win, suckers!
Since I've now satisfied the first objective of this trip across the heartland, the next will be to find a place to kick back and watch some football tomorrow. The western part of Illinois is pretty rural in nature, so I don't think I should have too much trouble finding a motel with truck parking. Then a couple more easy days of driving should be followed by a trip home. Beauty.
After waking this morning and checking the truck over, I headed eastward along I-80. I stopped at the next Bosselman's along the way, in Wood River, and topped off my fuel tanks. I (begrudgingly) grabbed some lunch and headed back out. No PB&J at that location either. Peckerheads.
I had roughly 1,000 miles to cover between last night's stop and Tuesday morning's consignee, so a 250 miles per day pace would do the trick. My first 250 miles today got me to the western part of Iowa, so I grabbed my directory and checked to see where I could park for the night. There were a few stops listed between Omaha and Des Moines. There was also... wait for it... a Bosselman's in Altoona. Yeah, I stayed on the road for an extra hour and a half. I was determined to get my damn sandwich. So what word do we apply here?
Obsessed? I don't know. To me, that would apply better to ex-girlfriends and the like. Stubborn? My mother likes to resort to that one, but I remain unconvinced. Pitiful? You could certainly apply this to various aspects of my character and easily include my interest in peanut butter and jelly. I'm still not sure that this is the way to go though. I prefer 'determined.' I win, suckers!
Since I've now satisfied the first objective of this trip across the heartland, the next will be to find a place to kick back and watch some football tomorrow. The western part of Illinois is pretty rural in nature, so I don't think I should have too much trouble finding a motel with truck parking. Then a couple more easy days of driving should be followed by a trip home. Beauty.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
9/3/09
Okay all you amateur Carl Jungs out there, take this one for a spin. I went to bed nice and late last night, as I'm often inclined to do. No alarm clock set for today with all the extra time on this trip, so I was fully prepared to sleep until the sun rose. Then a freaking dream entered the equation.
As nearly as I can recall, in the dream, I was telling a friend of mine (who bore an eerie resemblance to John Goodman) that his wife couldn't have my car. I just wanted to get the thing paid off so that I would have one less thing about which to worry. (Full disclosure for those of you in the Freud school of thought: I am down to ten payments left on my car in real life, in case that matters.)
So I left my friend's house and started driving. I am guessing that I must have been driving home or something. I don't know. Anyhow, I stopped at this little hotel called the Snow Inn. I don't recall having any reason to stop, but there I was. Obviously I've seen The Shining, so that would be my first point of reference here, but there were no similarities to The Overlook Lodge at all. Well, the hotel was empty. I guess that's a similarity. I was in a major city of some kind. The weather was fine. The hotel was small. The corridor was well lit.
And here's what happened at The Snow Inn. I walked in the door. I moved a tin bucket and picked up a piece of candy, still in its wrapper, from the floor. The bucket had been obscuring the candy, but I couldn't have known this until I moved the bucket. I walked to the end of the hall. The elevator door opened. I looked inside. I saw... nothing. I walked back toward the entrance of the hotel, watching in every direction for anything. I saw... nothing. I left the hotel. I can't say for sure whether or not I took the piece of candy with me. Yeah, that was all that happened. Pretty dull, I know.
But here's what I don't get. At this point in the dream, I (in real life) was consumed with such an overwhelming sense of dread that it woke me. I mean wide freaking awake. And we're talking 5am 'no man's land' territory for me here. I never get up that early unless I'm coerced by an outside element. Goosebumps, cold sweats, heart racing. Dude, there was nothing in the hotel. Nothing scary. Nothing troubling. Nothing interesting. Nothing exciting. There was nothing there. I tried to go back to sleep, but I ain't even kidding man, it wasn't happening. I was all wound up.
Well, there you go. Have at it if that's your cup of tea, but the upshot of the story is that I started driving wicked early today. I guess what I'm trying to say, in a roundabout way, is that this sucked. On the plus side though, I had covered almost 450 miles, even after taking a half hour breakfast break in Laramie, before the Tigers knocked off the Tribe in ten innings. This expanded their division lead to five games. Beauty. It was nice and cool last night as well, so I think the two hours that I did manage to sleep were plenty refreshing. I didn't feel all that tired once the sun came up.
I've now stopped at the Bosselman's in Elm Creek, Nebraska for the night and found... no freaking PB&J. This is horseshit. Anyhow, I guess I have something like a thousand miles to cover between now and Tuesday. My friend in Iowa, it turns out, is visiting her family in Michigan this week. So it looks like I don't have any particular timeline to follow for the next day or two. I'll just have to drive for a while and then stop for a while and then drive for a while... or whatever. Probably not getting a PB&J sandwich, from the look of things. Whatever.
As nearly as I can recall, in the dream, I was telling a friend of mine (who bore an eerie resemblance to John Goodman) that his wife couldn't have my car. I just wanted to get the thing paid off so that I would have one less thing about which to worry. (Full disclosure for those of you in the Freud school of thought: I am down to ten payments left on my car in real life, in case that matters.)
So I left my friend's house and started driving. I am guessing that I must have been driving home or something. I don't know. Anyhow, I stopped at this little hotel called the Snow Inn. I don't recall having any reason to stop, but there I was. Obviously I've seen The Shining, so that would be my first point of reference here, but there were no similarities to The Overlook Lodge at all. Well, the hotel was empty. I guess that's a similarity. I was in a major city of some kind. The weather was fine. The hotel was small. The corridor was well lit.
And here's what happened at The Snow Inn. I walked in the door. I moved a tin bucket and picked up a piece of candy, still in its wrapper, from the floor. The bucket had been obscuring the candy, but I couldn't have known this until I moved the bucket. I walked to the end of the hall. The elevator door opened. I looked inside. I saw... nothing. I walked back toward the entrance of the hotel, watching in every direction for anything. I saw... nothing. I left the hotel. I can't say for sure whether or not I took the piece of candy with me. Yeah, that was all that happened. Pretty dull, I know.
But here's what I don't get. At this point in the dream, I (in real life) was consumed with such an overwhelming sense of dread that it woke me. I mean wide freaking awake. And we're talking 5am 'no man's land' territory for me here. I never get up that early unless I'm coerced by an outside element. Goosebumps, cold sweats, heart racing. Dude, there was nothing in the hotel. Nothing scary. Nothing troubling. Nothing interesting. Nothing exciting. There was nothing there. I tried to go back to sleep, but I ain't even kidding man, it wasn't happening. I was all wound up.
Well, there you go. Have at it if that's your cup of tea, but the upshot of the story is that I started driving wicked early today. I guess what I'm trying to say, in a roundabout way, is that this sucked. On the plus side though, I had covered almost 450 miles, even after taking a half hour breakfast break in Laramie, before the Tigers knocked off the Tribe in ten innings. This expanded their division lead to five games. Beauty. It was nice and cool last night as well, so I think the two hours that I did manage to sleep were plenty refreshing. I didn't feel all that tired once the sun came up.
I've now stopped at the Bosselman's in Elm Creek, Nebraska for the night and found... no freaking PB&J. This is horseshit. Anyhow, I guess I have something like a thousand miles to cover between now and Tuesday. My friend in Iowa, it turns out, is visiting her family in Michigan this week. So it looks like I don't have any particular timeline to follow for the next day or two. I'll just have to drive for a while and then stop for a while and then drive for a while... or whatever. Probably not getting a PB&J sandwich, from the look of things. Whatever.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
9/2/09
I have to confess something to you. As I was rolling across Wyoming this afternoon, I cheered out loud... for the White Sox. I feel so dirty. September is September though. Scoreboard watching is part of the deal. Half a game is half a game, after all.
Apparently beer is a little more popular in Utah than I had realized. I know that there's a holiday coming up and so forth, but that distributor was hopping this morning. By the time I woke, quite a few trucks had piled up on the driveway and the street. Unaware that half of them were planning to cut ahead of me, I waited until it was almost 7am and then checked in with the receiving fella. I crossed paths with one of my CTL colleagues who happened to be parked right behind me on the crowded driveway. A handful of reefers and other trucks scooted in through the gate once it opened, either too blind to see that there were trucks waiting when they arrived or too rude to care. I made it through with the first wave, so good enough.
The unloading process didn't take too long once it got started. Of course, it didn't get started until I had been at the dock for quite some time. I was already planned on a new load though. No worries. From Salt Lake City I had to head back into Wyoming for my next pickup. Getting to drag an empty trailer out of the valley was a nice little bonus, after having gone in with a heavily loaded one.
The shipper was some kind of chemical mining operation out in BFE. The process of checking in and then checking in again and then backing into the dock took longer than the actual loading. With my 40,000 pound payload locked down and ready to roll, it was off to Ohio. 1,627 dispatched miles, a few days of driving, and we'll head for home this weekend... err... wait a minute. Okay then. 1,627 miles, we'll deliver it at 1am on Tuesday, and then we'll head for home. That's a pretty slow dispatch, to say the least. The consignee's receiving hours are 1am-1pm, so anything after 1pm Friday is a no-go. I couldn't make it by Friday with my available hours. Then, on a holiday weekend... Tuesday it is.
I guess I could be all bummed about the schedule and such, but this time around I think it will work to my advantage. I'll be able to take my time heading back across the country and I should be passing through the hometowns of a couple of friends that I haven't seen in a while. I'm not sure what their schedules will look like, but I usually don't have quite so much free time on a run. Further to that, I will have plenty of time to shut down early on Saturday and kick back at one of the Corleone family's Midwestern estates. There's a televised event that I would like to see at 3:30pm, if you know what I mean (and I think you do). I also think I'll have to get a paid deadhead home once I make my delivery, so I'll be there in time to renew my license. All in all, not so bad.
Tigers win! Beauty.
Apparently beer is a little more popular in Utah than I had realized. I know that there's a holiday coming up and so forth, but that distributor was hopping this morning. By the time I woke, quite a few trucks had piled up on the driveway and the street. Unaware that half of them were planning to cut ahead of me, I waited until it was almost 7am and then checked in with the receiving fella. I crossed paths with one of my CTL colleagues who happened to be parked right behind me on the crowded driveway. A handful of reefers and other trucks scooted in through the gate once it opened, either too blind to see that there were trucks waiting when they arrived or too rude to care. I made it through with the first wave, so good enough.
The unloading process didn't take too long once it got started. Of course, it didn't get started until I had been at the dock for quite some time. I was already planned on a new load though. No worries. From Salt Lake City I had to head back into Wyoming for my next pickup. Getting to drag an empty trailer out of the valley was a nice little bonus, after having gone in with a heavily loaded one.
The shipper was some kind of chemical mining operation out in BFE. The process of checking in and then checking in again and then backing into the dock took longer than the actual loading. With my 40,000 pound payload locked down and ready to roll, it was off to Ohio. 1,627 dispatched miles, a few days of driving, and we'll head for home this weekend... err... wait a minute. Okay then. 1,627 miles, we'll deliver it at 1am on Tuesday, and then we'll head for home. That's a pretty slow dispatch, to say the least. The consignee's receiving hours are 1am-1pm, so anything after 1pm Friday is a no-go. I couldn't make it by Friday with my available hours. Then, on a holiday weekend... Tuesday it is.
I guess I could be all bummed about the schedule and such, but this time around I think it will work to my advantage. I'll be able to take my time heading back across the country and I should be passing through the hometowns of a couple of friends that I haven't seen in a while. I'm not sure what their schedules will look like, but I usually don't have quite so much free time on a run. Further to that, I will have plenty of time to shut down early on Saturday and kick back at one of the Corleone family's Midwestern estates. There's a televised event that I would like to see at 3:30pm, if you know what I mean (and I think you do). I also think I'll have to get a paid deadhead home once I make my delivery, so I'll be there in time to renew my license. All in all, not so bad.
Tigers win! Beauty.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
9/1/09
Hmm... the first day of September couldn't be that interesting, could it? No, of course not. Don't be ridiculous. As far as days in the life of a truck driver go though, it was pretty decent.It was nice and cool last night and nobody was idling near me, so I managed to sleep soundly for a while. I called the brewery's automated phone number to check on my load when I woke. Beauty. My load was ready already. It wasn't scheduled for pickup until several hours later.
After the drawn-out process of waiting in line, checking in, dropping my trailer, waiting in line, scaling my truck, waiting in line, getting my loaded trailer, waiting in line, and checking out, I was on my way. 45,800 pounds can make for a long day of slugging across the Rockies, but I did get a little good news to help the cause. Once I got into Wyoming I received a pre-plan for my next load - picking up tomorrow in Wyoming and heading to Ohio. Groovy.
The rest of the trip was as tedious as would be expected. Up and down, up and down. It's always a nice perk of the job to catch a sunset over the mountains though. My directions said that the consignee allows overnight parking so I went ahead and drove straight through. I found a locked gate when I got here, but there is room to hang out on their long driveway. One other truck is ahead of me at this point so I should be able to get unloaded and rolling quickly once they open up tomorrow.
I've never seen the movie from which this scene was taken, but these YouTube videos do crack me up. I must say that the one goofing on Notre Dame last year did a much better job, but we'll keep it topical this time around. I can still tolerate living in Michigan as long as this is the storyline...
Monday, August 31, 2009
8/31/09
There are tried and true story structures for the playwrights of the world. A prominent flaw of the protagonist is presented early. Then things are looking up for a while. Then the situation turns ugly. A hint at a positive outcome is revealed, but there is one final challenge to overcome. Then the hero emerges victorious. (Yeah, I would have to be the hero in order for this parallel to hold up. It's gonna be a stretch. Deal with it.)
I rolled out of bed this morning and, holy smokes, that damn weight session from Saturday night had finally caught up with me. I had to drive 430 miles across a boring chasm in the civilized world in order to reach my destination, but I couldn't lift my arms. Then, in a sign that my day might not be so bad, I remembered that I was in Nebraska. They have Bosselman's truck stops in Nebraska. They have PB&J sandwiches at Bosselman's. Beauty. And it got better. The Tigers had yet another afternoon game today, so I would have at least something of a distraction from my physical misery. A great day was in store...
I got to my fuel stop in Big Springs before the story's middle section began. The card reader at the pump didn't work. I had to stand in line for fifteen minutes to get the clerk to turn on the pump for me. My Tigers were getting their asses kicked. Worst of all... no freaking PB&J!?! Oh, the horror.
What's this though? A Little Caesar's at the truck stop? Well, I had been listening to the local Tigers broadcast (with its Little Caesar's commercials) and I also had been thinking that a Hot N' Ready didn't sound too bad. Okay then. That helps. Back out to the truck, I wrapped a couple of slices in paper towels and tossed the rest of my pizza in the bunk, then hit the road. I got down the freeway a few miles before seeing that the little green message indicator on my satellite unit was lit. Surely I had missed some stupid message about insignificant nonsense. I hit the button to have the computer voice chick read the message to me. "You have two unread messages. Message two of fifty-eight..." It was a pre-planned assignment to follow my drop in Henderson. There we go. Things were definitely looking up.
The rest of my trip to the Con-way facility in Henderson was nice and easy. I made my drop/hook and checked out with the security guard, ready to ride off into the sunset (toward my next pickup). Just then, I took a wrong turn from the yard and wound up in a pretty nondescript area. I got to a 'T' intersection and had to choose - right or left. The right turn would be far too tight for a mere mortal but the left looked like it was headed to nowhere. I waited for an opening and made the right, 'cause that's just how I roll. Then, driving while checking my atlas, I thought that I had found a new route. Not exactly.
I have lots of experience with navigating via The Force though. There were a couple of skinny stretches, but the area was fairly rural. No low bridges or anything. Our hero prevailed in the end.
My next load is beer leaving Fort Collins tomorrow afternoon and going to... Salt Lake City? Dude, I won't go to Hell if I'm just following orders, right? I don't know the ins and outs of that LDS stuff. Guess we'll have to find out in the sequel.
I rolled out of bed this morning and, holy smokes, that damn weight session from Saturday night had finally caught up with me. I had to drive 430 miles across a boring chasm in the civilized world in order to reach my destination, but I couldn't lift my arms. Then, in a sign that my day might not be so bad, I remembered that I was in Nebraska. They have Bosselman's truck stops in Nebraska. They have PB&J sandwiches at Bosselman's. Beauty. And it got better. The Tigers had yet another afternoon game today, so I would have at least something of a distraction from my physical misery. A great day was in store...
I got to my fuel stop in Big Springs before the story's middle section began. The card reader at the pump didn't work. I had to stand in line for fifteen minutes to get the clerk to turn on the pump for me. My Tigers were getting their asses kicked. Worst of all... no freaking PB&J!?! Oh, the horror.
What's this though? A Little Caesar's at the truck stop? Well, I had been listening to the local Tigers broadcast (with its Little Caesar's commercials) and I also had been thinking that a Hot N' Ready didn't sound too bad. Okay then. That helps. Back out to the truck, I wrapped a couple of slices in paper towels and tossed the rest of my pizza in the bunk, then hit the road. I got down the freeway a few miles before seeing that the little green message indicator on my satellite unit was lit. Surely I had missed some stupid message about insignificant nonsense. I hit the button to have the computer voice chick read the message to me. "You have two unread messages. Message two of fifty-eight..." It was a pre-planned assignment to follow my drop in Henderson. There we go. Things were definitely looking up.
The rest of my trip to the Con-way facility in Henderson was nice and easy. I made my drop/hook and checked out with the security guard, ready to ride off into the sunset (toward my next pickup). Just then, I took a wrong turn from the yard and wound up in a pretty nondescript area. I got to a 'T' intersection and had to choose - right or left. The right turn would be far too tight for a mere mortal but the left looked like it was headed to nowhere. I waited for an opening and made the right, 'cause that's just how I roll. Then, driving while checking my atlas, I thought that I had found a new route. Not exactly.
I have lots of experience with navigating via The Force though. There were a couple of skinny stretches, but the area was fairly rural. No low bridges or anything. Our hero prevailed in the end.
My next load is beer leaving Fort Collins tomorrow afternoon and going to... Salt Lake City? Dude, I won't go to Hell if I'm just following orders, right? I don't know the ins and outs of that LDS stuff. Guess we'll have to find out in the sequel.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
8/30/09
It's a good thing that we like our Wheaties (and SubWay Italian herb & cheese bread) in this country. Otherwise I'm not sure that there would be any reason for highways to exist in this neck of the woods. Across Iowa and into Nebraska today... riveting, truly. It was a challenge to stay awake and I wasn't even slightly tired. I also wasn't terribly sore from last night's workout though, which is good news. Apparently there's some sort of natural law to keep in mind or something. I am sure I'll be feeling it worse tomorrow.
It was another day of beautiful weather and light traffic. The baseball schedule provided some entertainment as the afternoon grew long. Tigers - win. ChiSox - loss. Twinkies - win. An acceptable outcome, to be sure. I don't tend to have a lot of luck with my Sprint internet speed in this part of the country so I decided to stop at the Sapp Brothers in York. Fast free wi-fi comes in handy every now and then.
I think that I had around 900 miles left to go when I started today. My trip odometer says 471, so that would leave something in the neighborhood of 429 for tomorrow. Not too shabby.
It was another day of beautiful weather and light traffic. The baseball schedule provided some entertainment as the afternoon grew long. Tigers - win. ChiSox - loss. Twinkies - win. An acceptable outcome, to be sure. I don't tend to have a lot of luck with my Sprint internet speed in this part of the country so I decided to stop at the Sapp Brothers in York. Fast free wi-fi comes in handy every now and then.
I think that I had around 900 miles left to go when I started today. My trip odometer says 471, so that would leave something in the neighborhood of 429 for tomorrow. Not too shabby.
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