The ole Godfather ain't exactly loving life at the moment, so you'll just have to bear with me here. I drink a lot of water. I haven't had to urinate in two days. My bladder is not full. If you haven't made the calculation at this point, consider yourself fortunate. For everyone else, hey, it's called Tales from the Road. This was another day on the road...
I felt some aches and pains starting a couple of days ago, but I thought they were just workout-related or something. Maybe also affected by going northward and sleeping in some cooler weather for a change. As it turns out, there must have been a little more going on. I'm not sure which was worse - last night or today. Last night, I had to get up every two hours and run to the restroom. Today, I had to get off the road every two hours and run to the restroom.
I suppose that there was an unintended benefit from this sort of driving shift. By keeping the stints on the road a little shorter and by keeping my mind preoccupied with the thought of not soiling my drawers, I didn't reach nearly the level of road rage that normally would result from a trip down I-77 with a heavy trailer. Even with a little morning rain, the traffic was an afterthought.
I made it down to the Pilot in Brunswick, Georgia tonight. That'll leave me somewhere around 400 miles from Miami. I took a look at an aerial view of the place where I'll be delivering and it looks like I'm shit outta luck in terms of parking down there, so I'll most likely stop in Pompano again and finish off the trip on Monday morning. Miami traffic at 8am on Monday will probably suck royal dick, but at least I should have a chance to join our man Rick for some dinner tomorrow evening (assuming my stomach is straightened out by then).
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna have to head inside and shoot some more Yoohoo into the bowl. Freaking brutal, man. Freaking brutal.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Friday, June 11, 2010
6/11/10
I'm sure that there are worse things in life than waking in the morning, having that feeling in your stomach, walking into the restroom, and finding both shitters occupied. At the moment that it happens though, it might as well be the single worst thing in the history of mankind. And thus begins another day...
There's another thing that seems like it might be the worst thing ever. West Virginia. As anticipated, today's load is a 44,000 pounder. That makes for a fun ride through the mountains. Now that I think of it, today's frustration began even before I got into West Virginia. The Ohio part of the drive was okay. Then I was angling down through Pennsylvania toward I-70 and I-79. There was a spot where the state highway on which I was driving joined another state highway. I had to stop at the intersection and then make a right turn. And I stalled my truck three times in the process. Pretty embarrassing. The hill was so steep that I had to keep my foot on the brake pedal until the transmission engaged. Otherwise I would have rolled backward into the people behind me. Then, after the transmission grabbed, I had to get off the brake and onto the accelerator - hard and fast. Fourth time's the charm... or something. Yeah, that hill was wicked steep.
By the time I got onto US-19 in West Virginia, cutting from I-79 over to I-77, I had had just about enough. By the time I got onto I-77 in Beckley, I was at my wit's end. The number of people who insist on cutting me off just as I try to get a run at the next hill is absolutely astonishing. Instead of being able to pull the hills with one or two downshifts, I end up going all the way down to fourth or fifth gear and lug over the top at 20mph. Ridiculous. Long story short - the travel plaza in Beckley is home for the night.
I'll have around 930 miles to cover between now and 8am on Monday, so a couple of decent days on the road should do the trick. That is, of course, assuming I don't commit vehicular manslaughter during the mountainous portion of tomorrow's drive. Sometimes it's tempting. I ain't gonna lie to you.
Mark your calendars. For the rest of your natural life, you're unlikely to see another situation where I agree with Keith Olbermann. This time, however, I'm gonna have to say that K.O. seems to have it about right. Something just doesn't add up. 60% of the vote?
There's another thing that seems like it might be the worst thing ever. West Virginia. As anticipated, today's load is a 44,000 pounder. That makes for a fun ride through the mountains. Now that I think of it, today's frustration began even before I got into West Virginia. The Ohio part of the drive was okay. Then I was angling down through Pennsylvania toward I-70 and I-79. There was a spot where the state highway on which I was driving joined another state highway. I had to stop at the intersection and then make a right turn. And I stalled my truck three times in the process. Pretty embarrassing. The hill was so steep that I had to keep my foot on the brake pedal until the transmission engaged. Otherwise I would have rolled backward into the people behind me. Then, after the transmission grabbed, I had to get off the brake and onto the accelerator - hard and fast. Fourth time's the charm... or something. Yeah, that hill was wicked steep.
By the time I got onto US-19 in West Virginia, cutting from I-79 over to I-77, I had had just about enough. By the time I got onto I-77 in Beckley, I was at my wit's end. The number of people who insist on cutting me off just as I try to get a run at the next hill is absolutely astonishing. Instead of being able to pull the hills with one or two downshifts, I end up going all the way down to fourth or fifth gear and lug over the top at 20mph. Ridiculous. Long story short - the travel plaza in Beckley is home for the night.
I'll have around 930 miles to cover between now and 8am on Monday, so a couple of decent days on the road should do the trick. That is, of course, assuming I don't commit vehicular manslaughter during the mountainous portion of tomorrow's drive. Sometimes it's tempting. I ain't gonna lie to you.
Mark your calendars. For the rest of your natural life, you're unlikely to see another situation where I agree with Keith Olbermann. This time, however, I'm gonna have to say that K.O. seems to have it about right. Something just doesn't add up. 60% of the vote?
Thursday, June 10, 2010
6/10/10
Did you play the old video game Mortal Kombat? I think I had it for my Sega Genesis system or something way back in the day. If you went through a battle and defeated your opponent without suffering any damage to yourself, you got what was called a flawless victory.
As I was driving this afternoon, I started to wonder how one would define a flawless day in the life of a truck driver. Obviously light traffic would come in handy. Polite customers would also be nice. Getting some miles covered and making a few bucks would be part of the equation. We had all of these things today. One last part may have been a sticking point though. Freaking West Virginia. Any time I have to drag a load up or down I-77, I usually end up in a pretty frustrated state of mind.
Secret weapon today though...
Those ain't kilograms either. 3,900 pounds, baby. Flawless. This meant that I was the boss of the hills today, pulling what effectively amounted to an empty trailer.
I damn near got wrecked by one of my fellow CTL drivers on one hill though. I was cruising up the center lane at 60mph while several slower trucks chugged along in the climbing lane. My aforementioned coworker decided that he was coming over, just as I was passing him. I've never understood what causes truck drivers who are going 35mph to think that they absolutely must pass a truck going 30mph if they approach it from behind. If you've already lost that much speed, just keep your slow ass in the right lane until you crest the hill. Stupid. Luckily for all parties involved, there was room for me to swing over to the left lane (where trucks are not permitted) and avoid a collision.
They had a big inspection shindig set up at the first rest area in West Virginia today, adding one more to my list of things not to like about that state. A huge parade of trucks had to get off the highway and then complete a big loop before getting back on the road. The cop who seemed to be in charge was waving me through as I approached, so I guess I got lucky there. He was jotting down something on a piece of paper as each truck passed. Probably doing an inspection on every Nth truck or something.
The weigh station up toward the top of the state was open as well. I haven't ever seen that one open before. I got a red light on my PrePass unit, so I had to pull into the scale, but they just rolled me across and sent me on my way. Not a whole lot of overweight concerns when you have a 3,900 pound payload.
The main concern as I cruised up through Ohio was whether or not I would find somewhere to park after making my drop in Warren. There's a truck stop along OH-5, just a few miles away, but it's definitely not a sure bet. I did see a few open spaces as I passed on the way to my consignee. The sun had just set though, and that's when the game of musical chairs tends to begin.
The process of getting checked in and making my drop/hook took quite some time, so my prospects appeared to be dwindling. Just one open space though; that's all I needed. After a long day on the road, I was looking forward to kicking back and relaxing for a while. But... that's not exactly how the night turned out. Not yet, at least.
After hooking to my empty trailer and sending in the appropriate satellite form messages, I hopped into the trailer in order to remove some garbage. I hadn't checked my board status yet, but one CTL truck had arrived just ahead of me and there was another parked at that local truck stop. My guess was that I would be #3 at best. By the time I got back into my truck, my next assignment was waiting. I'll be damned.
The new assignment brought more uncertainty into the picture. I would be picking up in Asthabula, Ohio and heading to Miami, Florida. That's easy enough to comprehend, of course. The problem was that I had no idea how I would make the 8am pickup work with my log book and I also had no idea where I would park tonight, since neither my truck stop directory nor my atlas showed anything along the route from Warren to Ashtabula. Compounding the uncertainty was the fact that today's 14 hour clock was going to run out in an hour, so I had no time to sit around and think things over. 'Shoot first, ask questions later' was going to have to be the approach.
I headed eastward on OH-5 toward OH-11 and placed a phone call to our home base in Missouri. My hope was that my 8am pickup might not have to be an 8am pickup. Maybe, for instance, it could be a 10am pickup instead. That would be pretty helpful with respect to the log book situation. Otherwise I was going back into a split-sleeper situation with a really lopsided tilt to it. The night dispatcher who took my call seemed to have his act together, asking me to wait a minute while he checked to see if he could move the pickup time back. I was hoping for the best but expecting the worst. Score one for the good guys this time though. He came back and told me that I was all set for 10am. Beauty.
So the log book concern had been addressed. Now for the parking. I had no idea how that part was going to work out. (You know... It's funny how we always remember how to pray when we want something, isn't it. Maybe 'funny' is the wrong word. You know what I mean though. Well, unless you don't pray, I suppose. In that case, nevermind.) Anyhow, I was rolling up OH-11 and hoping to spot a truck-friendly Wal Mart or something. My clock struck 10:30pm. Time's running out, champ. What's it gonna be? 11pm is the end of the line. Just then I saw a sign saying that there was a rest area 1 mile ahead. I swung in and found that it had room for probably ten trucks to park. In a pleasant surprise, there were only two trucks here when I arrived. Beauty.
I think I have around 20 miles to go from here to my next shipper. It's a straight shot up a controlled-access freeway, so I don't expect any trouble in getting there by 10am. My ten hour break will be over at 8:45am, so all should work out fine. The shipper is some sort of chemical outfit, so I'm sure my payload will be closer to 44,000 pounds than 4,000. That'll make for a tedious trip back down through the mountains, but at least I should have all weekend to do it.
As I was driving this afternoon, I started to wonder how one would define a flawless day in the life of a truck driver. Obviously light traffic would come in handy. Polite customers would also be nice. Getting some miles covered and making a few bucks would be part of the equation. We had all of these things today. One last part may have been a sticking point though. Freaking West Virginia. Any time I have to drag a load up or down I-77, I usually end up in a pretty frustrated state of mind.
Secret weapon today though...
Those ain't kilograms either. 3,900 pounds, baby. Flawless. This meant that I was the boss of the hills today, pulling what effectively amounted to an empty trailer.
I damn near got wrecked by one of my fellow CTL drivers on one hill though. I was cruising up the center lane at 60mph while several slower trucks chugged along in the climbing lane. My aforementioned coworker decided that he was coming over, just as I was passing him. I've never understood what causes truck drivers who are going 35mph to think that they absolutely must pass a truck going 30mph if they approach it from behind. If you've already lost that much speed, just keep your slow ass in the right lane until you crest the hill. Stupid. Luckily for all parties involved, there was room for me to swing over to the left lane (where trucks are not permitted) and avoid a collision.
They had a big inspection shindig set up at the first rest area in West Virginia today, adding one more to my list of things not to like about that state. A huge parade of trucks had to get off the highway and then complete a big loop before getting back on the road. The cop who seemed to be in charge was waving me through as I approached, so I guess I got lucky there. He was jotting down something on a piece of paper as each truck passed. Probably doing an inspection on every Nth truck or something.
The weigh station up toward the top of the state was open as well. I haven't ever seen that one open before. I got a red light on my PrePass unit, so I had to pull into the scale, but they just rolled me across and sent me on my way. Not a whole lot of overweight concerns when you have a 3,900 pound payload.
The main concern as I cruised up through Ohio was whether or not I would find somewhere to park after making my drop in Warren. There's a truck stop along OH-5, just a few miles away, but it's definitely not a sure bet. I did see a few open spaces as I passed on the way to my consignee. The sun had just set though, and that's when the game of musical chairs tends to begin.
The process of getting checked in and making my drop/hook took quite some time, so my prospects appeared to be dwindling. Just one open space though; that's all I needed. After a long day on the road, I was looking forward to kicking back and relaxing for a while. But... that's not exactly how the night turned out. Not yet, at least.
After hooking to my empty trailer and sending in the appropriate satellite form messages, I hopped into the trailer in order to remove some garbage. I hadn't checked my board status yet, but one CTL truck had arrived just ahead of me and there was another parked at that local truck stop. My guess was that I would be #3 at best. By the time I got back into my truck, my next assignment was waiting. I'll be damned.
The new assignment brought more uncertainty into the picture. I would be picking up in Asthabula, Ohio and heading to Miami, Florida. That's easy enough to comprehend, of course. The problem was that I had no idea how I would make the 8am pickup work with my log book and I also had no idea where I would park tonight, since neither my truck stop directory nor my atlas showed anything along the route from Warren to Ashtabula. Compounding the uncertainty was the fact that today's 14 hour clock was going to run out in an hour, so I had no time to sit around and think things over. 'Shoot first, ask questions later' was going to have to be the approach.
I headed eastward on OH-5 toward OH-11 and placed a phone call to our home base in Missouri. My hope was that my 8am pickup might not have to be an 8am pickup. Maybe, for instance, it could be a 10am pickup instead. That would be pretty helpful with respect to the log book situation. Otherwise I was going back into a split-sleeper situation with a really lopsided tilt to it. The night dispatcher who took my call seemed to have his act together, asking me to wait a minute while he checked to see if he could move the pickup time back. I was hoping for the best but expecting the worst. Score one for the good guys this time though. He came back and told me that I was all set for 10am. Beauty.
So the log book concern had been addressed. Now for the parking. I had no idea how that part was going to work out. (You know... It's funny how we always remember how to pray when we want something, isn't it. Maybe 'funny' is the wrong word. You know what I mean though. Well, unless you don't pray, I suppose. In that case, nevermind.) Anyhow, I was rolling up OH-11 and hoping to spot a truck-friendly Wal Mart or something. My clock struck 10:30pm. Time's running out, champ. What's it gonna be? 11pm is the end of the line. Just then I saw a sign saying that there was a rest area 1 mile ahead. I swung in and found that it had room for probably ten trucks to park. In a pleasant surprise, there were only two trucks here when I arrived. Beauty.
I think I have around 20 miles to go from here to my next shipper. It's a straight shot up a controlled-access freeway, so I don't expect any trouble in getting there by 10am. My ten hour break will be over at 8:45am, so all should work out fine. The shipper is some sort of chemical outfit, so I'm sure my payload will be closer to 44,000 pounds than 4,000. That'll make for a tedious trip back down through the mountains, but at least I should have all weekend to do it.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
6/9/10
My upcoming vacation will be spent close to home for the most part. My family and I will celebrate the holiday at their place up north, but that's only a few hours away. So my summer break is all set. If I'm ever looking for a cheap winter destination though, I may have stumbled across a new strategy. I think I'll go into Mexico, mail my wallet to a friend, and then sneak back into the States. As long as I can get myself caught at the border with no documentation, it sounds like I might be able to spend a few days relaxing until someone sends my ID to the feds and gets me released. Fresh carrot sticks, bingo, art classes, and continental breakfast, all at taxpayer expense? That's better than anything I usually get at the local Days Inn. Carrot sticks are really underrated as a quick snack, especially if I can snag a little bit of Lawry's seasoned salt to go wih them. I might have to fine tune this plan a little (passport etc.), but it sounds promising.
Obviously the assessment of my new fleet yesterday was tongue-in-cheek, given the short time frame involved. That being said, the courtship hasn't gotten any better over the last 24 hours. When I was informed that I would be getting reassigned, I told you folks the following - "Then hopefully my new fleet manager will be inclined to leave me alone like the current one does. We'll see how it goes." Early signs seem to indicate that the new fleet manager may be something of a micromanager. If so, then this would be easily the worst development in my four years with this company. Let's hope not.
After I went to bed and finally managed to fall asleep yesterday, following my bullshit load assignment, my satellite unit chirped and woke me. It was a message from my fleet manager telling me to call for my instructions regarding the Con-way load that I was picking up. I have no interest in getting anyone in trouble, so we'll just say on the record that I've always made that phone call, but you can read between the lines and sort it out from there. My old fleet manager knew that I have never been late on a Con-way load and that was good enough for both of us. No matter how many hundreds of times we pick up and deliver a Con-way load, we're supposed to make that stupid phone call. Then we wait on hold for ten minutes so that someone can tell us to take a break at the shipper before our pickup and all of that shit. You can review yesterday's chain of events and decide for yourself who needs a refresher course on the rules of the game. (Hint: Not me.)
So I got up and made the call. One caller ahead of me - wait on hold. And wait. And wait. I finally wound up connected to some other gal who took two seconds and asked, "You know the instructions, right?" Yep. And that was that. Fucking stupid. And you know what follows here - no more sleep for me last night. Bastards.
Once my eight hour break was over, I rolled back down the street to the Con-way terminal. The folks there were all packed up and ready to go home. I was the only thing holding them back. Apparently my load had been ready and waiting for a while, but there was nothing I could do about it. Even though I had never managed to get back to sleep, so I may as well have been driving, the rules say eight hours. More stupidity.
The drive across to Virginia was rather uneventful. I was hanging tough until around 3:30am when I started to feel a little tired. I decided to stop off at the Pilot in White Pine, Tennessee and top off the fuel tanks. Getting out of the truck for a few minutes seemed to help. Then it was time to head into some rain. When your eyelids are feeling heavy, the monotonous movement of windshield wipers is less than ideal. Luckily the rain stopped before too long and the sun started to rise, so I got a little bit of a second wind as I finished off the trip.
My relay partner was ready and waiting when I rolled in two hours ahead of schedule. (Probably would have been late if I hadn't made that phone call last night.) After a quick and easy relay I found myself at #1 on the board, so I stayed awake for a while to see what might happen. Once I had my empty trailer, I could have driven legally for another .75 hours. My extended 14 hour clock was good for another two hours. When I didn't get an assignment during those two hours, the situation shifted. Those two hours off duty had completed my split break and gotten me back the driving hours from yesterday afternoon. So we were up to 2.5 driving hours available. My 14 hour clock had to include the two-hour break, so it too was down to 2.5 hours. The long and short of it is that I would be able to work any time between 10am and 12:30pm, after which I would have to take another eight hour break.
Having absolutely zero confidence that the load planners would work effectively with this schedule, in addition to feeling absolutely exhausted, I decided to take myself off the board and go to sleep. My best bet was just to take a full ten-hour break and get out of the split, then start over again. As my head hit the pillow, I got a message from my fleet manager, asking when my break would be over. "6pm, dude. Leave me the fuck alone, please," I thought to myself. So I sent a reply stating that I would have fresh hours at 1800 and then went back to bed.
11am - A friend of mine calls. I hit 'ignore' on my phone and go back to bed.
12pm - A satellite message whining about the company-wide MPG being lower in May than in the two best months.
Two minutes later, just as I got settled back into bed - A message saying that those two best months had been March and April. (This is the kind of shit that just makes me want to throw the Qualcomm out the window.)
Another couple of phone calls and text messages were sprinkled throughout the afternoon. I probably should have shut my phone off, but I was drifting in and out of sleep as it was. A couple of times I got up and read some headlines, then got tired and went back to bed for a while. I did manage to get a little bit of rest over the course of the day though, so good enough. I put myself back on duty just before 6pm.
By the time my new assignment came through an hour later, I was honestly hoping that I could just take the rest of today off. I was in no mood to pull another all-nighter and the thought of giving up my parking space in order to go somewhere else tonight was rather unappealing. I caught a break in this respect, as my next load picks up tomorrow at 11:15am, 65 miles from here. Good. Now I can relax and try to get back into a normal routine.
I'll be taking a load from Martinsville, Virginia up to Warren, Ohio. It's not a paper load so there's at least a chance that I can get by without dragging 44,000 pounds of freight up through the mountains. A guy can always hope. Speaking of hope, I can't wait for my personal visit from President Kickass. I think I could use a little pep talk these days.
Obviously the assessment of my new fleet yesterday was tongue-in-cheek, given the short time frame involved. That being said, the courtship hasn't gotten any better over the last 24 hours. When I was informed that I would be getting reassigned, I told you folks the following - "Then hopefully my new fleet manager will be inclined to leave me alone like the current one does. We'll see how it goes." Early signs seem to indicate that the new fleet manager may be something of a micromanager. If so, then this would be easily the worst development in my four years with this company. Let's hope not.
After I went to bed and finally managed to fall asleep yesterday, following my bullshit load assignment, my satellite unit chirped and woke me. It was a message from my fleet manager telling me to call for my instructions regarding the Con-way load that I was picking up. I have no interest in getting anyone in trouble, so we'll just say on the record that I've always made that phone call, but you can read between the lines and sort it out from there. My old fleet manager knew that I have never been late on a Con-way load and that was good enough for both of us. No matter how many hundreds of times we pick up and deliver a Con-way load, we're supposed to make that stupid phone call. Then we wait on hold for ten minutes so that someone can tell us to take a break at the shipper before our pickup and all of that shit. You can review yesterday's chain of events and decide for yourself who needs a refresher course on the rules of the game. (Hint: Not me.)
So I got up and made the call. One caller ahead of me - wait on hold. And wait. And wait. I finally wound up connected to some other gal who took two seconds and asked, "You know the instructions, right?" Yep. And that was that. Fucking stupid. And you know what follows here - no more sleep for me last night. Bastards.
Once my eight hour break was over, I rolled back down the street to the Con-way terminal. The folks there were all packed up and ready to go home. I was the only thing holding them back. Apparently my load had been ready and waiting for a while, but there was nothing I could do about it. Even though I had never managed to get back to sleep, so I may as well have been driving, the rules say eight hours. More stupidity.
The drive across to Virginia was rather uneventful. I was hanging tough until around 3:30am when I started to feel a little tired. I decided to stop off at the Pilot in White Pine, Tennessee and top off the fuel tanks. Getting out of the truck for a few minutes seemed to help. Then it was time to head into some rain. When your eyelids are feeling heavy, the monotonous movement of windshield wipers is less than ideal. Luckily the rain stopped before too long and the sun started to rise, so I got a little bit of a second wind as I finished off the trip.
My relay partner was ready and waiting when I rolled in two hours ahead of schedule. (Probably would have been late if I hadn't made that phone call last night.) After a quick and easy relay I found myself at #1 on the board, so I stayed awake for a while to see what might happen. Once I had my empty trailer, I could have driven legally for another .75 hours. My extended 14 hour clock was good for another two hours. When I didn't get an assignment during those two hours, the situation shifted. Those two hours off duty had completed my split break and gotten me back the driving hours from yesterday afternoon. So we were up to 2.5 driving hours available. My 14 hour clock had to include the two-hour break, so it too was down to 2.5 hours. The long and short of it is that I would be able to work any time between 10am and 12:30pm, after which I would have to take another eight hour break.
Having absolutely zero confidence that the load planners would work effectively with this schedule, in addition to feeling absolutely exhausted, I decided to take myself off the board and go to sleep. My best bet was just to take a full ten-hour break and get out of the split, then start over again. As my head hit the pillow, I got a message from my fleet manager, asking when my break would be over. "6pm, dude. Leave me the fuck alone, please," I thought to myself. So I sent a reply stating that I would have fresh hours at 1800 and then went back to bed.
11am - A friend of mine calls. I hit 'ignore' on my phone and go back to bed.
12pm - A satellite message whining about the company-wide MPG being lower in May than in the two best months.
Two minutes later, just as I got settled back into bed - A message saying that those two best months had been March and April. (This is the kind of shit that just makes me want to throw the Qualcomm out the window.)
Another couple of phone calls and text messages were sprinkled throughout the afternoon. I probably should have shut my phone off, but I was drifting in and out of sleep as it was. A couple of times I got up and read some headlines, then got tired and went back to bed for a while. I did manage to get a little bit of rest over the course of the day though, so good enough. I put myself back on duty just before 6pm.
By the time my new assignment came through an hour later, I was honestly hoping that I could just take the rest of today off. I was in no mood to pull another all-nighter and the thought of giving up my parking space in order to go somewhere else tonight was rather unappealing. I caught a break in this respect, as my next load picks up tomorrow at 11:15am, 65 miles from here. Good. Now I can relax and try to get back into a normal routine.
I'll be taking a load from Martinsville, Virginia up to Warren, Ohio. It's not a paper load so there's at least a chance that I can get by without dragging 44,000 pounds of freight up through the mountains. A guy can always hope. Speaking of hope, I can't wait for my personal visit from President Kickass. I think I could use a little pep talk these days.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
6/8/10
Everyone has a constitutional right to jump to conclusions. For truck drivers, I think it's a regulatory requirement that we jump to conclusions. This requirement ranks right up there with traffic laws and hours of service rules, it seems. Generally speaking, I'm more of a wait and see kinda guy. To hell with it though. I've been on my new fleet for a day and a half. I'm sure that's plenty of time. Let's jump...
I pulled my trailer back across the street this morning and checked in with the security guard. He told me to wait in the staging area and he would call me on the CB when I had a door assignment. After a while I got my call. My particular door was a pretty tricky one to hit, but I nailed it on the first try. (Blind squirrels and nuts and so forth...) The lumper told me that the unloading would cost $40 and that he would come out and get me when he was finished.
I had plenty of time to walk over to Wendy's and get some breakfast while I was waiting. Unfortunately, this particular Wendy's doesn't serve breakfast. Therefore they didn't open until 10am. It was only 9:30am. Bummer. I continued down the street and placed a carryout order at Shoney's instead. I don't think I had eaten anything from Shoney's since my family moved from Georgia back to Michigan, many many years ago. Pretty decent omelet. I guess it's hard to screw up an omelet, but the ham had a nice flavor to it and the bacon was good and crispy. I was pleased.
After my breakfast was done the lumper came out and gave me my paperwork, then sent me on my way. There was a big sign saying that empty trucks had to leave the property (leaving room in the staging area for arriving trucks, ostensibly), so I drove back over to the drop yard where I spent last night. I'm not sure if I technically had permission to do so, but you know how it is. Don't ask, don't tell.
My empty call was sent at 9:55am. I was #1 on the board at the time. My next assignment came through at 11:22am. We'll get to the details of the assignment shortly here, but just let that hour and a half percolate in the analytical side of your brain.
I got a call from an LTL trucking company close to home as soon as I got parked in the drop yard. Offering me a job? I'm in one of those moods today where I just might accept it. No, not this time. They were calling to ask when would be a good time to deliver my fireworks. Dude. I just ordered them yesterday and I specified that I would pick them up at the distribution center in Lansing. FedEx and UPS won't deliver fireworks, so they have to be sent by other LTL carriers. And I don't have a loading dock at my apartment. Oh well, they're in Brownstown now. I called my mother and gave her the rundown. My youngest brother has been laid off from his construction job and my other brother is off all week, so they'll have plenty of time to pick up the goodies today or tomorrow. Good deal.
Now let's get to that hour and a half that I spent on the board this morning. My next assignment was a Con-way load leaving Decatur, Alabama at 10pm tonight. For the uninitiated among you, we receive the same specific instructions every time we are assigned to a Con-way load. We are to arrive at the shipper, drop our empty trailer, and complete a ten hour break before our appointment time. 10pm appointment time, right? So back out ten hours and what do you have? Noon. I needed to be off duty by noon. I received the assignment at 11:22am. Check my directions, drive to Decatur, and drop my trailer within 38 minutes. Yeah, okay.
The drive to Decatur, dispatched as 61 miles, turned out to be 78 miles. It took just over an hour and forty-five minutes, complete with plenty of traffic and red lights. (I did get to see rocket ships though.) I arrived at the Con-way yard and dropped my trailer, then drove down the street to a little fast food place with truck parking. Brakes set, off duty time begins - 1:30pm. If only there had been a way for me to get here an hour and a half sooner. Hmm... If only there had been a way... As it stands, I'll have to go the split break route and head out after eight hours here in Decatur. There had better not be any traffic jams between here and that shithole truck stop in Troutville, since I can only drive 9.25 hours before I'll be required to take a two hour break. If only I had been able to get here an hour and a half sooner...
Setting aside the hours of service requirements, I still was pretty much screwed by this assignment, given that I slept last night and got up to start work this morning. Now I'm supposed to sleep magically on command before pulling an overnight run to Virginia. 175 paid miles for yesterday. 61 paid miles for today. We're really knockin' 'em dead here, eh? Tomorrow's run will tack on almost 500 miles, which isn't bad in and of itself, but my hours will be burned up by the time I pass off the load to the next driver in the morning. I can't imagine there's anything magical up the load planners' sleeves for me in that case. I'll probably have to sit around all day and then get another damned load of paper or something. (Of course I have no way of knowing this, but remember - I'm jumping to conclusions today.)
Guess it's time to try and get some rest or something.
Monday, June 7, 2010
6/7/10
Welcome. You know what that word means, right? Obviously there are different usages and so forth, but the general concept is clear. Welcome. Come well. We look forward to your well-being, etc. I'm not sure everyone sees it the same way though.
The first time that I heard the word 'welcome' today, I had just arrived at my consignee in McDonough, Georgia. My intention had been to get past Atlanta and then find somewhere to take a break before my 3:30pm appointment. I didn't see anywhere to stop between Atlanta and McDonough though, so I just continued onward to my delivery point. The young lady in the security booth gave me the bad news, informing me that I wouldn't be getting unloaded early. I was, however, welcome to park in the staging area and then check in at 3:30pm. Good lookin' out, my sister.
At some point during the afternoon, I received a satellite message. I'm assuming that the person signing the message was my new fleet manager, as the message was sent in order to welcome me to my new fleet. We've known that this one was coming for a month or so, since we learned that my old fleet was becoming regional. So there's that word again - welcome.
At some point after I got my holiday fireworks order placed and before my trailer was empty, I received my next load assignment. I was to pick up in Atlanta at 10:30pm and deliver in Albertville at 10am. It's not often that one gets a chance to go from the site of the '96 Summer Olympics to the site of the '92 Winter Olympics. Alas, I didn't get to drive my truck to France tonight. It turns out that there's another Albertville... in Alabama... 146 miles from Atlanta.
That 10:30pm pickup was going to be a royal pain in the ass for me. If I stayed at my consignee in McDonough long enough to complete an eight hour break, then I most likely would be late for my pickup appointment on the western edge of Atlanta. (A ten hour break wasn't even an option.) If I didn't complete a break before picking up the load, then my 14 hour clock would run out at midnight. This would make it impossible to reach my consignee by 10am after taking a break overnight.
About the only solution that I could find was to head straight to the shipper. If I could get loaded early, then I could head to Albertville and park for the night. If I couldn't get loaded until 10:30pm, then I would just have to stay at the shipper until I had been parked for ten hours. Then I could leave before sunrise and still make the delivery on time. The shippers were happy to load my trailer shortly after I arrived, so score one for the good guys.
I dragged my 43,000 pounds of pickles out of Georgia and into Alabama, where I unfortunately was reminded that US-431 has a shit-ton of hills and red lights. Tedious. Upon arriving at my consignee and finding exactly one open parking spot, I was told that I couldn't stay there. I could, however, go to their other drop yard on the other side of the highway. Good enough for me.
So now we come back to our word of the day. If I was bumped from my old fleet because I didn't want to be a regional driver, only for my first assignment on my new fleet to be a chickenshit regional run... with what began as a semi-questionable schedule... to pull a wicked heavy trailer... across a pain in the ass route... to a grocery warehouse... then I'm not sure I like this kind of welcome. Call me a traditionalist.
On the positive side, it appears that the folks at Google have gotten their Blogger system back up and running. I don't know exactly what sort of business arrangements they have with the various people who write these blogs, but mine is completely free. I've never paid them a dime and I even managed to collect $100 for the first two and a half years' worth of ad clicks. In this context, I was amused by the absolute indignance that I saw from people when I clicked on the support forum to see what was going on. "This is ridiculous!" "You people should be ashamed!" "I'm switching to WordPress!" You get the picture. The modern world in a cyber-nutshell...
The first time that I heard the word 'welcome' today, I had just arrived at my consignee in McDonough, Georgia. My intention had been to get past Atlanta and then find somewhere to take a break before my 3:30pm appointment. I didn't see anywhere to stop between Atlanta and McDonough though, so I just continued onward to my delivery point. The young lady in the security booth gave me the bad news, informing me that I wouldn't be getting unloaded early. I was, however, welcome to park in the staging area and then check in at 3:30pm. Good lookin' out, my sister.
At some point during the afternoon, I received a satellite message. I'm assuming that the person signing the message was my new fleet manager, as the message was sent in order to welcome me to my new fleet. We've known that this one was coming for a month or so, since we learned that my old fleet was becoming regional. So there's that word again - welcome.
At some point after I got my holiday fireworks order placed and before my trailer was empty, I received my next load assignment. I was to pick up in Atlanta at 10:30pm and deliver in Albertville at 10am. It's not often that one gets a chance to go from the site of the '96 Summer Olympics to the site of the '92 Winter Olympics. Alas, I didn't get to drive my truck to France tonight. It turns out that there's another Albertville... in Alabama... 146 miles from Atlanta.
That 10:30pm pickup was going to be a royal pain in the ass for me. If I stayed at my consignee in McDonough long enough to complete an eight hour break, then I most likely would be late for my pickup appointment on the western edge of Atlanta. (A ten hour break wasn't even an option.) If I didn't complete a break before picking up the load, then my 14 hour clock would run out at midnight. This would make it impossible to reach my consignee by 10am after taking a break overnight.
About the only solution that I could find was to head straight to the shipper. If I could get loaded early, then I could head to Albertville and park for the night. If I couldn't get loaded until 10:30pm, then I would just have to stay at the shipper until I had been parked for ten hours. Then I could leave before sunrise and still make the delivery on time. The shippers were happy to load my trailer shortly after I arrived, so score one for the good guys.
I dragged my 43,000 pounds of pickles out of Georgia and into Alabama, where I unfortunately was reminded that US-431 has a shit-ton of hills and red lights. Tedious. Upon arriving at my consignee and finding exactly one open parking spot, I was told that I couldn't stay there. I could, however, go to their other drop yard on the other side of the highway. Good enough for me.
So now we come back to our word of the day. If I was bumped from my old fleet because I didn't want to be a regional driver, only for my first assignment on my new fleet to be a chickenshit regional run... with what began as a semi-questionable schedule... to pull a wicked heavy trailer... across a pain in the ass route... to a grocery warehouse... then I'm not sure I like this kind of welcome. Call me a traditionalist.
On the positive side, it appears that the folks at Google have gotten their Blogger system back up and running. I don't know exactly what sort of business arrangements they have with the various people who write these blogs, but mine is completely free. I've never paid them a dime and I even managed to collect $100 for the first two and a half years' worth of ad clicks. In this context, I was amused by the absolute indignance that I saw from people when I clicked on the support forum to see what was going on. "This is ridiculous!" "You people should be ashamed!" "I'm switching to WordPress!" You get the picture. The modern world in a cyber-nutshell...
Sunday, June 6, 2010
6/6/10
I think we might have a problem here. At some point this morning, the air inside my truck started to warm up. This woke me, naturally. I didn't feel too tired though, so I got up and checked out the overnight news inside the internets. Then I headed in for the traditional haircut/shave/shower routine. Then I stopped by SubWay and got myself an Italian BMT with double meat. Then I headed back out to my truck and hung out for a while as I enjoyed my lunch. Then, when it was time to check the truck over and hit the road, I looked at a clock for the first time all day. 9am? WTF? I must have been up by 7:30am at the latest. On a day when I was free to sleep as late as I liked. This is unacceptable.
Anyhow, I hit the road for what was supposed to be a nice and easy drive. Someone dumped a whole tank of stupidity on I-81 in Virginia today though. Absolutely no flow to the traffic at all. It only takes a few asswipes driving 50mph in the right lane, combined with a few more asswipes constantly speeding up and slowing down in the left lane, to make for a frustrating day on the highway.
Frustrating or otherwise, today found me getting through all of Virginia and North Carolina. I've set up shop for the night in Duncan, South Carolina so I'll have something less than 200 miles to cover by tomorrow afternoon. I'm due to deliver in McDonough, Georgia at 3:30pm. Given the fact that Atlanta pretty much sucks balls, I might try to scoot past there a little earlier in the afternoon. Then I can take a break somewhere along I-75 until it's time to make my delivery.
If you're reading this post, then I suppose it's safe to assume that the Blogger 'post by e-mail' function has worked. I can't seem to access the site tonight for whatever reason. If you're not reading this post and you're still somehow on this sentence, well, that would just be weird, wouldn't it?
Anyhow, I hit the road for what was supposed to be a nice and easy drive. Someone dumped a whole tank of stupidity on I-81 in Virginia today though. Absolutely no flow to the traffic at all. It only takes a few asswipes driving 50mph in the right lane, combined with a few more asswipes constantly speeding up and slowing down in the left lane, to make for a frustrating day on the highway.
Frustrating or otherwise, today found me getting through all of Virginia and North Carolina. I've set up shop for the night in Duncan, South Carolina so I'll have something less than 200 miles to cover by tomorrow afternoon. I'm due to deliver in McDonough, Georgia at 3:30pm. Given the fact that Atlanta pretty much sucks balls, I might try to scoot past there a little earlier in the afternoon. Then I can take a break somewhere along I-75 until it's time to make my delivery.
If you're reading this post, then I suppose it's safe to assume that the Blogger 'post by e-mail' function has worked. I can't seem to access the site tonight for whatever reason. If you're not reading this post and you're still somehow on this sentence, well, that would just be weird, wouldn't it?
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