10/3/09

Okay, we'll continue the fall tradition of getting the Saturday post done early whenever it's feasible. You know how it goes for fans of Our Lady's university these days. By the time the game is over, I may not be in the mood to say anything.

I didn't hit any of that rain that seems to be in the forecast for this area today, so the drive was pretty simple and easy. As suggested by our friend John last night, there were no issues getting through St. Louis, aside from a Prime driver who was struggling a bit with the skinny lanes. I'm not sure exactly why they have ten undersized lanes through the suburbs there when eight normal lanes would do just fine. In any case though, I gave homeboy plenty of extra space while he barreled his way through the curves and everything was fine.

I was cruising up I-55 toward Springfield when I started scouting the motel billboards. It didn't take long. Motel 6 - Truck Parking - $39.99 - Exit 90... okay then, sign me up. The rate on the billboard is never the weekend rate, but at $45.99 for tonight I didn't get shafted nearly as badly as I have at some of the Corleone family's other estates.

A quick review of the particulars shows that this pay week will end with 2,692 miles, getting me over a thousand bucks for the second time in my two weeks back on the road. Steady as she goes here in Con-way Land, it would seem.

Everything is set up nicely for the weekend now - A short drive left for tomorrow, overnight parking at the consignee, Pizza Hut coupons on the desk, and a fantastic 17-inch color TV with basic cable and a remote control in front of me. What more could a fella want? Well, there is that one thing. A victory would be nice...

10/2/09

I hate baseball. Eight runs for those thugs from Chicago, eight clicks at sadtrombone.com, and the race gets a little tighter. Baseball sucks.

The issue at my shipper for this load turned out to be one of generic incompetence that was easily remedied. The trailer that was found to be empty last night was not in fact the trailer that I was supposed to pull. Someone had simply put the wrong number on the bills. The remedy was for the shipping lady to cross out that trailer number and write in another. Voilà. Ready to roll. There's really no reason that I should have had to wait twelve hours for this resolution to come about, but we'll just have to see how much (if any) detention pay shows up on my paycheck.

I hooked to my loaded trailer and checked the packing list inside to make sure that they had given me the right number this time around. They had. It was all good. Okay then, let's roll. The drive got pretty damned weird in the early going. I took OK-18 up to Chandler in order to catch the turnpike. The combination of the rising sun, the morning traffic, and my 43,000 pound payload combined to require some extra careful driving on my part. Then, just before I reached I-44, there were a couple of bizarre blind turns that were anything but fun. No worries though. I'm a professional... or something. Once I hit the freeway everything was back to normal.

I was bouncing across Missouri and making pretty good time by the point when I reached a construction zone just before Rolla. Traffic came to a dead stop and then started rolling at roughly 10mph for several miles. The westbound guys on the CB were saying that there was no reason for us to be going so slowly, other than the motorist in the pickup truck at the front of the line. Apparently he simply felt like taking his time. The speed limit in the work zone was 60mph. We were going 10mph. I can tell you this much. I'll kick that son of a bitch in the fellas if I ever cross his path.

After dealing with that nonsense, I decided that it was about time to get off the road and enjoy an Italian BMT with double meat. As fate would have it, there was a Love's with a SubWay at the second or third exit after the work zone. Beauty. With my belly full and my blood temperature returning to a level below boiling, I took a look at my atlas and found that I've already covered more than half the trip to Romeoville. Good enough for me then. I'd rather take my crack at St. Louis on a Saturday morning anyway. Nothing good could come from driving any further on a Friday afternoon.

Tomorrow morning's agenda seems to be shaping up quite nicely. It will take a hundred miles or so for me to get out of Missouri. Then I'll head up I-55 and start looking for one of those billboards that strikes my fancy. You know the ones - They say $34.95 a night with truck parking, then you check in and they tell you that it's $59.99 a night, so you're inclined to tell them to get bent, but you've already gone through the hassle of parking in their little bullshit lot and you really want to take a shower and watch some football, so you just grab your ankles and deal with it. Yeah, I'll be looking for one of those billboards tomorrow.

Looks like it should be a fun one...

10/1/09

The best kind of days out here are the ones when everything goes according to schedule and there are no reasons to communicate with anyone. We were thaaaaat close...

The morning's trip across Arkansas and into Oklahoma was good and easy. The terrain tends to require some patience when you have 44,000 pounds in tow, but this is what I do for a living and such. Not so bad.

I took a break for a little while to watch some of the ballgame, then got back on the road after those peckerheads from Minnesota started piling up the runs. So I was driving and didn't get to see the brewhaha that broke out after a few bean balls. Story of life. I got to the consignee a couple of hours ahead of schedule and the forklift dude had me empty in ten minutes. Beauty.

As soon as I sent in my empty call, I received a message. I assumed that I must have typed the wrong trailer number or something, since the only messages that come through that quickly are error messages. I took a look. 'Planned Load Summary.' Well I'll be damned. The load assignment itself came in a minute later and I was set to go once again.

If I could have written the script for the next load, it would have included the following elements:
(1) A deadhead of around a hundred miles, tacking on a few bucks to my paycheck but not making me work too late tonight before trying to find parking;
(2) A trip back to the Midwest, keeping me far away from both the Rockies and the Mexican border for at least a few more days;
(3) Around six or seven hundred miles for the weekend, getting my week's paycheck up around a thousand bucks or so;
and (4) A delivery on Monday, meaning that I would have plenty of time to settle in at one of the Corleone family's estates and watch football on Saturday.

Let's see how we did then... Deadhead? 108 miles to Shawnee. Ding! Trip to the Midwest? Romeoville, Illinois. Ding! Six or seven hundred loaded miles? 754 for the weekend. Ding! Monday delivery? We'll have to see about that, but the consignee is only open Monday through Friday and I ain't driving 754 miles tomorrow, so you do the math. Ding! So, given recent history, I have only one thing to say to the folks in the big building on 32nd Street...

The only thing left to do was head over to Shawnee and make my drop/hook. The trip to the shipper was nice and easy, so we were off to a good start. I checked in with the security dude via intercom and received my instructions - Drop my empty in the gravel lot, go into Door 15, sign the bills, leave a copy in the mailbox, grab my loaded trailer, inspect the load, seal it up, and hit the road. Okay, sounds easy enough. One little problem had to pop up though. My loaded trailer turned out to be empty. Shit.

I flagged down a forklift driver who told me that there must have been a production problem and my trailer wouldn't be loaded tonight. I would have to try checking back tomorrow at 7am, since they didn't allow drivers to stay on their property and the shipping people had all gone home for the evening. Oh well, can't win 'em all I guess. As long as they can get me rolling at some point tomorrow morning, the weekend should take shape the same way I intended. I was probably only going to drive another half hour or so tonight anyway. Starting the trip tomorrow won't make that much of a difference in the grand scheme of things, plus I'll probably have a good chunk of detention pay coming for my troubles.

Since I don't have a trailer, the shopping mall down the street from the shipper seemed like a logical place to cool my heels for the night. Restauarants and stores and such are a nice break from the usual truck stop routine. Now let's just keep our fingers crossed and hope that everything works out with this run. There's a distinct possibility that I can make it into the Chicago media market by Saturday afternoon. Getting to watch my Irish and my Tigers on TV in a comfy motel room would be a welcome outcome indeed.

9/30/09

Eleven hours is a long time as far as I'm concerned. To the numerous cowboy truckers of the world it's just a day's work. For me though, it's a little too much... usually. You can imagine my surprise then when I found myself desperately in need of a place to park before I had gone past my eleven hours today. That doesn't happen very often.

I had planned to hang around the truck stop in Youngstown until my pickup appointment drew near this morning. When I woke though, all of my neighbors had left the gravel lot where I was parked and I saw that there was actually a series of 'No Parking' signs along the eastern edge. Probably better not hang out too long then. I grabbed some breakfast and then fired up the truck. My satellite unit powered on and chirped at me with a new message. Great, what now? Good news this time, actually. It was a note saying that my load was ready to roll and giving me the number of the trailer that I needed to get. The original assignment hadn't mentioned any drop/hook business, so this was a decent surprise for me.

The drive down to Panama City wasn't bad at all, but the process at the shipper was a bit tedious. After going through the security check-in, I had to stop at another little shack for my trailer inspection. Then after sliding the axles back and dropping the empty, it was a whole lot of fun trying to get my loaded trailer out of there. Fortunately for me, I don't yet qualify as full-on 'trucker fat.' I'm just 'regular dude fat' at this point in time. Another inch or two on the old waistline and I don't think I could have pulled it off. The crank handle for my trailer had to scrape against the adjacent trailer in order for me to raise the landing gear. I don't know exactly how wide the horizontal portion of that handle is, but I can assure you that my ass had no business squeezing into such a space. Anyhow, yeah, it took a while to get the damned thing cranked up and pulled out of there.

Then it was back to the inspection shack place for my paperwork and then back to the security shack to check out of the facility. Okay, now we drive...

I played a hunch and took some two-lane roads out of Florida and into Alabama. I was guessing that they wouldn't be much slower than US-231 but hopefully might have less traffic. Good call on that one, I think. Until I caught back up with US-231 in Troy, there really wasn't anything to slow me down at all. Only a few towns along the way as well. Beauty. From Troy through Montgomery and Birmingham, well, you can't win 'em all I suppose. That part was a bit of a battle in the middle of the afternoon.

Then it was time to turn westward. It's truly amazing to see all of the development that has been spawned by the Appalachian Development Highway System. (Yes, in case it doesn't translate into the written word, that was sarcasm.) I think I saw one sign saying that there was an industrial park somewhere in Northwestern Alabama, but that was about it. Kickass freeways built out in the middle of nowhere may not carry much traffic but at least they come in handy for us truckin' folk. That ride up US-78 into Memphis is a pretty mellow one.

The ballgame was in full swing by the time I got through Mississippi and, after a rocky start, the Tigers had their boots on the collective throat of the Twins. Since I had plenty of time to kill and things were going fairly well, I decided to try a change of pace. I went up to US-64 to cross the eastern part of Arkansas instead of staying on I-40 this time around. That part seems to have been a pretty good idea too, at least up to this point. The only catch was the aforementioned eleven hour situation. Once I got on US-64 and started westward from I-55, I realized that my hours were going to run out in about 45 minutes. My truck stop directory showed one place with a small parking lot in Wynne, roughly 40 miles away. Better say a quick prayer and hope for the best then.

For the second night in a row, the truck stop was apparently full but there was an adjoining gravel lot with plenty of room. This lot seems to be an adjunct of the truck stop though and there were already a couple of trucks back here, so I think it's all good. Since I did in fact drive a full eleven hours today, I'll only have to cover around 300 miles tomorrow in order to reach Muskogee, Oklahoma for my delivery. I'm due to arrive there by 6pm Central so I do believe we're looking at a morning with no alarm clock. Ahh, I always like a morning with no alarm clock.

9/29/09

Freaking rainouts. Always gotta go and disrupt my baseball viewing plans. Quite a boring night last night after I had spent the whole afternoon looking forward to the showdown. That's okay though. I got two games for the price of one today and the Tigers got a split. Usually a split is nothing exciting, but it knocks two games off the calendar without getting Minnesota any closer to the lead. Today's stalemate means that Detroit stays two games ahead with five games to play. Beauty.

The drive over to this afternoon's consignee took about five minutes. The unloading process took about ten minutes. The drive back to the truck stop took about five minutes. Yeah, as you can imagine, I was pretty worn out after all of that. I got on the board at #2 and watched the end of the Twinkies' win in the first game of today's double dip.

After a couple of hours I received my next assignment. I had to deadhead to Panama City, Florida for yet another load of paper. First though, I would have to swing by another customer in Dothan, Alabama and swap my old trailer for a newer one. The shipper is the same paper company that gave me all the trouble in Virginia, but apparently the Panama City location won't even take a trailer that is more than ten years old. The trip to Dothan was nice and easy and the security dude knew that I was coming, so everything went smoothly in terms of making the swap.

I headed back southward on US-231 and took a look at my truck stop directory to see where I might be able to park for the night. The pickings were pretty slim indeed. I could take a stab at the truck stop in Youngstown, Florida but, if that one was full, I would be SOL. There was nothing else listed between Youngstown and Panama City. 'Screw it,' I concluded. Let's roll the dice and see what happens. Every parking space in the back was full but there was a little gravel lot on the south side of the place. One truck was parked over in the gravel lot when I arrived. I became truck #2. Two more trucks have parked over here since then, so at the very least I won't be the only one getting arrested if this is an unacceptable location.

I'll have about thirty miles or so to drive in the morning, then I'm headed for Oklahoma with a scheduled delivery on Thursday evening. Given the way my last run went, we'll have to wait and see how that delivery schedule plays out. For now though, the miles have been pretty solid to start the week and it looks like I'll be empty on Thursday and set up for a good weekend.

9/28/09

Put the women and children to bed. Clear the streets. Bar the doors. It's time for a good old American League showdown in Motown. My boys have a two game lead and the Twinkies are in town for four, starting tonight. Winner gets the right to lose to the Yankees in the first round. Loser gets mocked and ridiculed for all eternity. Bring it on.

My ten hour break in South Carolina took me to 11am this morning. In related news, I got rolling at 11am this morning. Go figure. Given the uncertainty surrounding my delivery in Alabama, I figured that I might as well get moving and show up as early as possible, then hope for the best. Before leaving the truck stop, I shot a message to Joplin and asked if there was any news from the customer service people.

I was anticipating the usual generic 'we're working on it' sort of response, but I got some useful information instead. I had been operating based on the dispatcher yesterday having given me an ETA of 6pm tonight (when the consignee would be closed, of course). My fleet manager sent me a message this morning saying that the customer had set my appointment for 2pm tomorrow. Good deal. In one sense this means that half my day tomorrow will be wasted while waiting for my appointment to come around, but my log book could use a bit of a breather anyway. I start picking up some decent hours over the next few days so I'll be in good shape once I get back on the board tomorrow afternoon. And then there's the part about actually having an appointment when I show up. That's always a plus.

I made it to Atlanta before the typical afternoon fustercluck had reached maximum capacity, so overall I have to say that the day was pretty solid. The long line of traffic in the construction zone between Atlanta and the Alabama line pretty much sucked, but you take the good with the bad in this business. I rolled into the old truck stop on the south side of Montgomery a little while ago and it looks like my internet connection is a good one. Bring on the baseball.

9/27/09

As I typed last night's episode into my shiny silver computer here, I had a sneaking suspicion. I had a suspicion that there actually may have been a reason to send me 350 miles from Pennsylvania to Virginia with an empty trailer to pick up a load. Maybe there was nobody else around. Shortly after I finished that post, my trailer was repaired and I sent a message asking the fine folks in Missouri to put me back on the board. In a minor surprise, I immediately got a reply acknowledging my request and telling me that I was on the board. Yeah, seriously.

I was #1 on the board at the time. We normally have a billion trucks on I-95 so I guess my suspicion was confirmed. I must have been given that 350 mile deadhead because there was simply nobody else available. They wouldn't try to send me back over to West Point then, would they? It was a decent run, after all, but the dude who rejected my trailer was not a very cordial fella. I sure as hell didn't want to show up again and try to convince him that the 'metal tape and black tar special' from the T/A was the answer to his complaints. I sat around for a few hours expecting just such an outcome, then finally gave in and went to bed for a while.

At 6am, that most magical of hours, the satellite unit woke me with a new assignment. Wanna guess what it was? (♪ Meet the new boss, same as the old boss... ♪) Yeah, I got the same load in West Point that caused last night's troubles. Hey, at least I already had my hard hat and safety glasses this time. I had to call the dispatcher people (yet again) to make sure that I wouldn't be sent directly to the pickup once I confirmed the load. My 14 hour clock was reaching it's waning moments by this point. No worries, I was told. I could stay and finish my break and then head over. Good deal. Our omnipotent 'computer' even gave me time to take a ten hour break starting with the time that I confirmed the load, but that was unnecessary. I already had been parked for five hours before then, so I only needed another five hours of down time.

I got up late in the morning and found that the sun was out. That's always nice. I walked back and hopped in the trailer to see exactly what was the story. The T/A guy had described the issue as a hairline crack rather than a pinhole. What had appeared to be the pinhole and the origin of the leak was merely the lowest point in the crack. I could definitely see the crack to which he was referring but there was no light coming through. Guess he did a good job then.

So, back over to the shipper for Round 2... The security gal didn't even let me get inside the gate this time around. It turns out that there was still some dampness on the floor, qui es no bueno. Well, shit. She said that I could try parking with the doors open for a while to air it out and then check in again later. So I asked her if there was anywhere nearby with room for me to park. "I have to send you to a truck stop or a rest area." But that would be like twenty miles away. Isn't there anywhere closer? "I have to send you to a truck stop or a rest area." Yeah, thanks for nothing.

I started back on VA-33 toward the freeway and, a few miles to the southwest, spotted a little office building with a 'For Lease' sign out in front. The parking lot didn't look big enough but I sure as hell didn't feel like going all the way to the rest area on I-64, so I decided to give it a shot. The street behind the office building had a little cul de sac at the end and the street was not in use, so that was good enough for me. I swung around with the ass end of the trailer facing the wind and sun and opened up the doors. Just to cover all the bases, I gave the trailer another good sweeping since I could see more dirt in the sunlight than I had seen last night in the dark. I also spotted a couple of nail holes that went all the way through the floor, so I grabbed a wad of good old black electrical tape and a Phillips screwdriver to plug them. Hillbilly spackle, we'll call it. My relatives in Georgia would be proud.

Then there was nothing to do but listen to the ballgame and wait for Mother Nature to do her thing. The weather was hot and sunny, with a pretty decent breeze, so I was fairly confident that the dampness in the floor would be gone within a few hours. At 3pm I did a progress check and the thing was just about completely dry. Those people were some real ball busters though and they had already rejected me twice, so I gave it some more time to make sure there was no trace of moisture. At 4:30pm, after the Tigers and Redskins had both finished their pitiful performances, I headed back over to the shipper for a third try.

This time everything went smoothly. I was at the dock for an hour or so, but I got my load of paper and hit the road. Surely there couldn't be any more issues, right? Heh, yeah, that was a silly question. We'll have to see how this one shakes out but, in a nutshell, here's the deal. I was dispatched to arrive at 6pm tomorrow. The earliest that I could arrive is somewhere around 4pm tomorrow, perhaps a little later depending on traffic. So far, so good, right? Ahh yes... the consignee is open from 7am to 2pm, and delivery appointments are required. Hmmm.

I sent a satellite message with the above info and received a reply a short time later. The upshot is that the dispatcher was aware of the 2pm deal but he had to keep the dispatch legal. If my trailer had been kosher and I had gotten loaded last night, this issue would not have arisen, but we are where we are. Last night's timeline got all jacked around by the trip to the T/A for repairs and then today's timeline got a lengthy interruption for the whole air-drying process to play itself out. The dispatcher also said that he sent a message to our customer service people explaining the situation. What happens from here, I have no idea. All I could do was head westward and let the people in charge do whatever it is that they do. In a nice break from the last day or two, the weather and traffic were pleasant and I was able to keep my foot down for the most part. I got into South Carolina and parked for the night in Cowpens, leaving somewhere around six hours of driving to reach Montgomery tomorrow.

By the time I get kicked out of my consignee for showing up late and without an appointment tomorrow evening, my remaining time under the 70 hour rule will be running pretty low. Not sure how the week will unfold from that point, but so far I have 778 miles on the books so the week is off to a decent enough start.