10/12/07

Today's posting should have mentioned something about leaving Dalton nice and early. It should have said the drive down was not bad, given the light traffic. It should have said that the drop and hook at the WalMart DC in Florida left me with a couple of hours on my 70. It should have said that the day was a good one.

Bullshit. The southern half of Georgia is all under construction. That part isn't all that terrible, as they only drop the speed limit to 60mph in most places. The trouble is that you have motorists who can't maintain a constant speed, combined with day cab drivers who maintain one speed (65mph) regardless of where they are. Speed limit 70? They go 65. Speed limit 45? They go 65. Put them on the same stretch of highway with the Clampetts, who go anywhere from 50-75mph, and it can get a little tedious trying just to cruise along.

Out of Georgia, things were looking good for a few minutes. I was set to deliver early, have some time on my log book, catch a nap, and see what else the day had in store. Then, things took a turn...

I was rolling along, blasting my latest Dropkick Murphys CD and feeling pretty good, when the brake lights started. We were being routed off of I-75 on account of an accident that closed the freeway. You know the drill - people speed by on the left, get right to the end, cut off the people on the right, make everyone wait a little longer. I held up the center lane and a Werner guy held up the left lane, at least enough to let everyone move forward in an orderly fashion. When we got to the end, a Crete fella let me over and things were okay for a bit. They were routing us onto US-441 which didn't turn out to be a bad ride at first. A few miles down though, things again took a turn...

The left lane came to a complete halt, while the right line moved at a very slow but methodical pace. I had no idea why, but I knew I was not about to sit parked in the left lane all day so I headed by on the right. According to my atlas, there would be plenty of routes by which I could get back to I-75 if I just stayed along 441, so that's what I did. A few miles down, I saw the left lane issue up close. People had to make a left turn to get to southbound I-75. There were cops doing something like directing traffic, but they were basically just pointing out that the light was green whenever it changed. They never held up oncoming traffic to clear up any of that southbound mess. As such, two trucks were turning every time the light changed and everyone else was waiting. Glad I passed that shit. My ride into Gainesville on 441 was uncongested and quick.

I took the little jog across FL-126 to I-75 southbound. Again, quick and smooth, no issues. I figure I saved myself nearly an hour by skipping the backup on 441. Of course, that just meant that I hit the next one an hour sooner. When I got to I-75, the traffic was at a dead stop. It took another two hours to go three miles. Again, there was an abject failure to control traffic on the part of the local cops. I should have never been allowed to get on that southbound ramp, nor should the hundreds of cars who were getting on at the next one. People were parked in the middle of the highway while more and more cars tried to jam in, making the whole area impassible. People were driving by, trying to pass on the shoulder. Others would block the shoulder to try and preserve some order, so more people just started driving on the grass. Fucking animals. I counted thirteen cop cars that went blazing by on the median during the whole ordeal, but I can't for the life of me figure out what they did to help the situation. I know they work hard and I'm sure they were doing something. I just couldn't figure out what it was.

Eventually I got past that mess and made the rest of the run without incident. There were bugs flying all over at the WalMart place. I suspect they may have been those love bugs that I've been reading about lately, as they all seemed to fly around attached in pairs. I somehow managed to get in and out of my truck a few times without letting any of them inside. I made the drop/hook, then headed to the rest area just north on I-75. I got an assignment to take this empty to a customer in Georgia, then bobtail to the ConWay in Lawrenceville and grab an empty. I'm out of hours for today, but I just woke up and I'll get hours back at midnight so, once my ten hour break is up at 1am, I'm heading north. They told me to pick up a ConWay trailer, so I guess I'll have to learn the deal with the electric landing gear and mising crank handles that people have been discussing lately. Oh well, I had to get my turn sooner or later I guess.

The frustrations of today left me with no choice but to hit the weights again this afternoon. I worked out hard yesterday, so today should have been rest/recovery day, but I had to do something. The chances of getting laid at this rest area are pretty slim, I assume. I don't see a bar by the toilets. I don't imagine I'd have much legal defense if I chose to kick someone's ass for no apparent reason. So the weights wound up being the only stress relief I could find. I'm sure I'll be paying the price for the nex couple of days, but that's just life.

I had some snarky remarks ready to post about people who can't drive and the effect they have on my job. After having time to work out and take a nap though, I had a bit of a different perspective. That became especially true after reading the news account of today's events on I-75. And then the photos provide a stern reality check. Sometimes we feel a little invincible behind the wheel of these big tough trucks, but fire is fire and a few families are never going to see their loved ones again today. (Then I also noticed all of the Fritos falling out on the street and it made me hungry. What in the hell is wrong with me?) I managed to snap this shot as I finally got almost clear of the snafu:

I tried to snap a couple others, but apparently my cell phone isn't designed for rapid-fire photography. The newspaper folks do a much better job anyway.

Let's try to kick off the weekend on a little lighter note before I wrap up this posting.

Until next time, cheers.

10/11/07

I got rolling early this morning, so that was a good thing. I usually make a concerted effort to avoid any meaningful thoughts at all. I find that my life is a lot easier that way, but sometimes they catch up with me. I had quite a bit on my mind all day today. Nothing major, but when there are enough minor things it adds up. As such, I was in some kind of a zone and the miles just flew by.

I stopped in Tennessee to take a nap and, when I woke up, my truck wouldn't start. I've mentioned the deal with my fuel tanks not being balanced properly, such that the truck only seems to pull from the left tank. That tank has the gauge though, so it usually isn't a problem. Apparently I was parked on enough of a slant to cause the fuel from the left tank to migrate right. I know the gauge was showing a little under a quarter tank when I shut the truck off. When I tried to start it a couple of hours later, it was bone dry.

I called our road service department and told them what was going on. They said that, if the place where I was stopped would take a Comcheck, I could ask them to take care of the situation. They did accept Comchecks, so I had them bring me some fuel. The guy had fuel in big jugs, but no way to pour it into the tank on account of the cap being located directly under the side of the cab. He went back to the shop and retrieved a watering can, but it still wouldn't reach. I pulled the hose off of my vacuum cleaner. Then, the mechanic was able to pour the fuel into the watering can, stick the end of the watering can into the vacuum hose, and insert the hose in the tank. It was a convoluted process, but it worked and we got my truck started.

After he emptied the last jug, the mechanic made a brilliant move and dropped my vacuum hose into the fuel tank. We couldn't figure out a way to retrieve it. He assured me that it would float to the top when I filled up the tank. I asked if he has had that happen before. He said no, but that he was certain it would float to the top. Needing to get rolling, I had no choice but to put the fuel cap on and take off with the hose in the tank. I got down to Dalton, Georgia a short time later and topped off the tanks. As expected, the right tank was completely full while the left was empty. I stuck my fingers into the full tank to try and feel the hose. Nothing. I jammed my hand a little further in. Nothing. Now my hand was stuck. Beautiful. I don't know if any of you have ever had your hand stuck in the fuel tank of a truck while it sits at a truck stop fuel island, but you don't feel very sophisticated at that point. I tried to wiggle it out, but the damn thing was stuck. I grabbed the nozzle with my other hand, squirted some fuel on the entangled hand, and gave it a good yank. Hopefully I didn't break any bones. It's pretty purple and nasty right now, but I got it out. And no vacuum hose.

By that point, the things weighing on my mind all day, combined with the fuel tank fiasco, had me pretty wound up. I parked the truck and tore into my weights. That seems to have helped. I guess I'll go to bed now and get going before the roosters wake up tomorrow.

10/10/07

Cloudy, breezy, and 54 degrees. Here in Fenian Godfather World, we call that a perfect day. Man, I do love the fall.

I woke up at the customer this morning with another CFI driver knocking on my door. Apparently the chick at the desk last night didn't tell the day shift guy that I am a no-CB-having kinda guy. They were calling me on the CB, so the other driver came over to let me know. I think I was on a beach with Jessica Alba at the time, but it's tough to recall. Reality set in when I opened my eyes, so I backed into the dock and started a movie.

They had me unloaded in short order, so I headed over to I-75 and ducked into the Pilot there to resume my movie. Not long after that, I got an assignment. I would be heading 164 miles north to get a load in Archbold and run it down to Florida. That's a nice long run, plus I've been meaning to catch up with a friend of mine down there. The only trouble is that he's off I-95 and I'll be delivering off I-75. Maybe my next pickup will take me further east, but we'll just have to wait and see.

The drive to the shipper was mainly state highways, which I never mind. I've always enjoyed going off the beaten path whenever it's practical. I got there and checked in, then resumed my movie again. They too worked quickly and sent me on my way. I had to stand at the window for ten minutes while the guy before me argued that his trailer shouldn't have been loaded all the way to the back. I generally assume that the people who manufacture shit and load trailers all day long are probably pretty good at what they do. Not this fella, Mr. "I've been driving for ten years." He was going to Pennsylvania and whining about "bridge laws" and saying his back axle couldn't go behind 41 feet. (Bridge laws and maximum wheelbase laws are seperate issues, but don't tell him I told you.) I informed him that it's 41 feet to the center of the axle assembly, according to the little cheat sheet in the CFI newsletter. That would mean the axle could be around 42.5 feet or so, but what do I know? I've only been at it since last summer. Predictably, he blew me off and continued to argue.

So, they finally talked the guy into just weighing the trailer with the promise that they would rework the load if necessary. He was right in front of me on their scale, and he didn't turn back around, so I'm guessing his weights were fine and he wasted my time for nothing. I scaled out nicely, even with my back axle a little short of 40 feet. I figured that would work well since the load is wicked heavy and didn't come anywhere near the back of my trailer. Running those skinny roads like I was, the shorter wheelbase is nice to have. Even the posted routes presented me with some crazy tight turns along the way.

I got down to US-30 about an hour later and decided to call it a night. I could have driven a few more hours today, but screw it. I'm determined to finish watching my movie, as lousy as it may be. I'll get rolling nice and early tomorrow and put in a full day. Then, by the time I finish off the run on Friday, the 70 hour rule will be breathing down my neck again.

Looks like the kids are getting into the spirit for this weekend...

10/9/07

The last day and a half have been pretty smooth as far as trucking goes. I got started in Knoxville when the inbound driver got the load to me three hours early. That meant a 3am end to my shift rather than 6am. He was a grumpy old sucker, but so be it. I never checked the empty trailer that I was giving him to see if it was clean. The guy who gave it to me said he had been sitting for two days, so I assumed he swept it out. Old man river wouldn't give me my paperwork until he saw that it was clean, so I went back and opened the doors. Squeaky clean. Moving along...

So, onward and westward. I sent a message to CFI, similar to the one that had been ignored the day before. I was scheduled to arrive in East St. Louis at 8:20am my time. I told them they could let the other driver know that I would be at least three hours early, in case he wanted to get an early start on his day. Much to my surprise, I actually got a coherent response. They told me that the relay was changed to our yard in Pocahontas, rather than the truck stop in ESL. Sweet! I was not looking forward to rolling into that place in the middle of the night and trying to park. I'm pretty sure that's the Pilot by the racetrack and, if so, I hate that place. Our yard in Pocahontas was much more convenient. Further to that, they said that my ETA had been updated to 5am, as I requested. I got there at 3:30 and parked next to the guy while I worked on a few computer projects. He was asleep and I had nowhere to go, so no point waking him up.

After I hung out for an hour or so, he woke up and made the switch with me. He was highlighted for Wichita, so that load will get him pretty close to home. Apparently that's my role at CFI this week - getting people home. I went to bed after a little while longer and, in the 64 degree air, slept like a baby for a few hours.

Shortly after I woke up, the next assignment came through. I was to receive a relay (yeah, another one) at the Pilot in Troy, Illinois and run it over to Ohio for tomorrow morning. There was plenty of time for a solo driver to get to Troy, take a ten hour break, and make the 10am appointment but they set it up as a relay. Didn't bother me any, I'll take whatever miles I can get. I suspected that the inbound driver was probably headed home somewhere near Troy, explaining the relay. Nope, they just set it up to be safe on the delivery time I guess.

After seeing that I was going 20 miles west to take a relay and bring it east, my first thought was that they should have just set the relay at Pocahontas. I was going to drive right past the yard on my way to Ohio anyway. It worked out fine for me though, because I probably would have driven to Troy to take a shower anyhow. This way I got paid for the short trip over there, as well as the miles back to where I started.

I had plenty of time to get in a good workout, take a long shower, enjoy a relaxing lunch, watch a movie, and take a nap before the other driver showed up. That's the way it would always work out in a perfect world, so I was loving my job today.

I thought I needed a new cord for my cooler, but first I plugged the old cord in to make sure it wasn't just loose. I'm not a detective, but when the motor caught on fire I concluded that I needed a new cooler. I picked one up at the Pilot in Troy then waited for the inbound driver. He showed up exactly when he was scheduled to arrive. Another guy, having left the same place forty-five minutes later, showed up a half hour earlier. Weird. Anyhow, loaded and ready, it was off for Ohio. I checked Google Earth before I left and it looked like the customer had plenty of room for me to park overnight, so I was able to take a leisurely drive across Illinois and Indiana knowing I didn't have to find a spot nearby and wake up early.

"To be Irish is to know that, in the end, the world will break your heart." - Daniel Patrick Moynihan

Pat said that about the death of John F. Kennedy. My deal tonight wasn't nearly as dramatic, but the premise really does hold true. There is something messed up in my head such that, when things are going well, I know that the other shoe is about to drop. I don't think so, I know so. As I entered Indiana, my dashboard lights went out. Oh well, I'd have to replace a fuse at the Pilot in Brazil. No big deal. Then the trailer lights went out. Shit! Not good to be on the highway with no trailer lights. As it turned out, I still had brake lights and rear turn signals, but I couldn't tell that while I was driving. It was a pretty stressful couple of miles until my exit, but I got off quickly enough and pulled into the Pilot.

I topped off the fuel tanks while I walked around the trailer to assess the situation. I could see in my mirrors that the lights had gone out, but I didn't know exactly what was or wasn't still functional. I basically did another pre-trip routine at the fuel island. The amber belly lights were not lit, but they flashed when the turn signal was on. The trailer clearance lights were AWOL. With the brakes applied, one brake light lit up but the other did not. With the lights turned on, the outer red tail lights were lit but the inners were not. And, of course, the dashboard lights were out. I parked the truck and started some tinkering. The one brake light that was out was actually fried at the connector. Maybe that's what triggered the fuse situation in the first place. I don't know, I'm not a mechanic. So, one replacement light later it was time to attack the fuses. There is a schematic on the back of the fuse panel showing the locations of various fuses, but it correlates loosely with reality. I got to sit on the step of my truck and go, one by one, through the fuses. None were burned out, but eventually I pulled one and put it back in causing my dashboard to light up. Cool. Then, I found one that lit up the trailer lights. Double cool. But that made the tractor clearance lights go out. Bogus. I found the one to fix the tractor lights, and the dashboard went back out. What the fuck! I went back to the one that lit up the dashboard the first time, and it did nothing. Back through the whole fuse panel again, I finally got everything lit up. I was watching the whole way through Indiana, expecting them to pop again. They never did so everything is apparently okay, for now.

I rolled into the customer's yard a little before midnight. My directions from CFI gave a route starting from I-70 but I was coming from 74 and 275. I found a sensible route from there, but at one point I was convinced that I was on a road where trucks do not belong. There was a sign mentioning no engine braking, so that was a relief. I checked in with the girl at the desk and she said they may or may not get to me tonight. No big deal to me either way. My ten hour break will be up right at my 10am appointment time, so if they unload me early that's great. If not, that's fine too.

A little side note: I know quite a few people who read this are looking to start driving careers in the early part of next year. The 2008 atlases are starting to show up on truck stop shelves. If you live near a truck stop, you might want to take a look and see what kind of deal you can get on the 2007 version. I saw some for $4.99 earlier. Might as well save a few bucks if you get the chance.