I headed over to my shipper this morning a couple of hours early, in hopes that I could get some extra miles behind me before the parking started to dry up. If not for Mr. Galarraga's little dance with perfection tonight, I would have been hoping to get up to Maryland or Pennsylvania. The shippers did get me loaded a little early and they were very polite, but I'm still gonna have to say that it's a place to which I'd rather not return.
In the following picture, you can see a local truck with a red and blue trailer. If you're wondering how in the hell he got that trailer into the dock, you're not alone. I was wondering the same thing when I pulled into the little parking lot there.
There is a little bit of room along the water tower where I had to wiggle my truck back and forth in order to get the trailer pointed at the dock. (I had entered from the street along the right, so getting the trailer oriented was the hard part.) Then some more wiggling back and forth got me settled into the right position. Certainly not the most difficult dock that I've ever had to hit, but I'm still not a fan of that stuff.
I was back on the road at noon, armed with a nice 20,000 pound payload. This makes two in a row that haven't been exceedingly heavy. Maybe things are looking up for me in that respect. Traffic was fairly cooperative as well. I got through Charlotte before the afternoon rush got too bad and didn't encounter anything other than the usual parade route on I-81 in Virginia.
I had enough hours available tonight to get me into Pennsylvania somewhere. As noted yesterday though, parking isn't terribly bountiful late at night in the Northeast. So I was trying to decide on a practical approach when the radio broadcast of the Tigers helped to make up my mind. I was approaching the truck stop in Mount Jackson, Virginia as the game went into the bottom of the 7th inning. I saw that my (AT&T) phone had a 3G connection at the time, so I assumed that my (Sprint) internet card would give me some decent speed as well.
After pulling off the road and firing up the computer, I found that I did indeed have a good enough connection to watch the last two innings. 1-2-3 in the 8th. 1-2-X in the 9th. That guy was safe? What a crock of shit.
Tomorrow's drive will be a pretty long one, somewhere around 600 miles from here to my consignee. I'm not sure how the parking story will play out up in Vermont, but we'll just cross that bridge when we get to it.
That guy was safe?
Hawks or Flyers
ReplyDeleteDoes it make me a bad person if I hope a meteor crashes into the arena with both teams inside?
ReplyDeleteGiven up on hockey since the wings are out I see. My house is 50/50 it gets quite load here when some one scores
ReplyDeleteNow I know why I play with guns. There is no disputing whether an intended target has a hole in or not if a target indeed has a hole in it. Any gamethat requires a referee holds no appeal...
ReplyDeleteYou don't know what you're missing, man. Baseball is the embodiment of the American experience - played by fewer and fewer Americans as the years go by and sometimes life just isn't fair.
ReplyDeleteAs for the hockey, I just can't find any redeeming qualities about either Philadelphia or Chicago. And I'm still a little disappointed in your daughter siding with the Blackhawks. No self-respecting Red Wings fan should ever do that.