12/30/07

Today was nice and easy. The stretch of I-84 along the Columbia River is nice. For some reason though, it made me want to go back to elementary school and play Oregon Trail on one of those old Apple computers. It runs along the bottom of the gorge so there aren't a lot of elevation changes. Plus, the 55mph speed limit means I can just set the cruise control and watch people pass me along the way. Well, for most of the trip...

The evergreen trees, sunny skies, and moss-covered ground made it look like a nice spring morning for a few hours. After recent weeks, it was almost enough to make me forget that it was winter in the northwest. Almost. The last thirty miles into Portland were a pretty snowy mess. The weather was above freezing and it was just wet snow so it didn't cause me any problems, but the motorists were either really fast or really slow at that point. I wound up cruising along in the left lane more often than not until we got into Portland and it turned to rain. All in all though, a pretty cool ride.

Not only was the beer distributor open today, it was like Grand Central Station. I had to wait a while for a dock. That worked out cool for me because my wireless connection is wicked fast within major cities. I got to kick back and watch the Redskins spank the Cowboys and secure a playoff spot. (They would have backed in anyway, but they finished the season with authority.) Great job boys.

I was at the customer for a couple of hours, then tooled up the road to the Jubitz truck stop. I was #2 on the board when I got here (and I'm still #2 now), so my chances of tacking on some decent miles tomorrow to close out the year should be pretty good. I haven't been up this way a ton, but every time I've left Washington (closest to Portland I've picked up) the run has been a long one.

So I've spent the evening reading and eating and smoking cigars and just generally being useless. I did get an e-mail from YouTube saying that Paramount Pictures told them to remove my ninety second clip of Beavis and Butthead. That's pretty pathetic, honestly. It's their copyrighted material, of course. But seriously, a few laughs? Who is that harming? Where was the financial damage to them and where was the financial gain to me? People need to get a life.

12/29/07

The difference between tonight and today was like... well, it was like the difference between night and day.

The daytime was a pretty mellow affair. Lots of mountains, a few snow storms, pretty decent roads, not much traffic, plenty of boredom.

Tonight I made a call to the Oregon 800 number to see what was what. They said that Cabbage was snow packed and icy and that chains were required from mile 221 to mile 252. Okay, we'll just put in at the Flying J at mile 265 and head back out in the morning.

At mile 285... chain law. Shit. I got hoodwinked. Fucking 800 numbers.

So I pulled over and cracked the side box. It took me a bit to figure out how the damn things worked, but I had a pretty good idea. Then I realized something. Your humble blogger does not have the ability to put chains on tires. I'm not talking about the willingness. I did try. I moved up and back. I tried different approaches. I don't have the ability. I wrestled with those damn things for what seemed like an eternity. I was out of breath, dirty, covered in snow, and generally discouraged. So I hopped back in the truck to take a break, warm up a little, and see what I could come up with. I had managed to get the chains mainly on the tires, but I couldn't for the life of me get them centered.

Just then, the overhead street lights shut off. I assumed that there was a reason, so I called that damn 800 number back. No more chain law. Beauty.

At that point I decided that I might as well not stop at that Flying J. If they just lifted the chain law, they probably just plowed the road. Now is probably as good as ever. Let's go. I must admit that I'm at least a little disappointed. I had read some website that said Cabbage has the tightest turns on the interstate system. I'm calling bullshit on that one. I'm not an engineer, so I don't know how you measure the tightness of turns, but I've been on nearly every interstate in this country. There are a lot of turns tighter than those ones.

I had to chuckle as I rolled past all the guys who chained up while I was cursing the state of Oregon. My incompetence got me across the mountain a little faster. According to the little chart before the steep part, my max speed was 18mph. I came down at 24mph. What can I say? I'm a rebel.

Anyhow, down the other side of the mountain it was just a little rainy. Of course, at that point it was time to call it a night. Story of my life.

It will be a couple hundred miles into Portland from here. Apparently the beer distributor is open on Sunday (according to my dispatch) but we'll have to see.

12/28/07

The wind woke me up this morning. I looked out the window, and it seemed like my truck was leaning about ten or fifteen degrees to the right. Then the gust let up and the truck settled back down. Then more wind. Since I was hooked to an empty trailer, I took this as a sign that it was going to be a long day. Today was a long day...

It didn't take long to get started. I hopped in the trailer to sweep it out. The breweries are picky so I got it nice and clean, but froze my balls off in the process. Then I headed out of the truck stop. I was behind a tanker pulling doubles, but we were both making our way slowly up an icy embankment and toward the freeway ramp. About the only rule there is not to stop. Go as slow as you need to, but don't stop. A car came flying up the ramp, looking like he was going to cut off the tanker. "Don't do that. Don't do that. Don't do that. Don't do that. DON'T DO THAT!" hollered I. He did. He cut right in front of the tanker. Ergo, the tanker had to stop. Ergo, he got stuck. Ergo, I had to stop. Ergo, I got stuck. Ergo, a line of cars formed behind me as the source of the trouble went on his merry way.

Eventually the cars behind me made their way around. Then I was able to back down the hill to a spot where my tires could touch pavement. With a little momentum and no weight, I was able to scoot around the tanker and up the hill. There was a dry spot about thirty yards ahead of him, so I pulled over and headed back to see if he needed any help. Maybe we could throw some chains on his tires or chip away the ice or something. It just seemed like stopping was the decent thing to do. After all, it was ten degrees outside. He said that he had called his shop and someone would be there in a few minutes. That was enough to convince me that he didn't need my help. After all, it was ten degrees outside.

On I-25 the road surface unfortunately mirrored that of the side street. Ice, ice, and more ice. I've always thought that I-25 was my least favorite highway, but that was more related to the mountainous and arid portions in Colorado and New Mexico. Now, with the addition of the debacle that is Wyoming in the winter, it's official. I-25 is the worst highway in America.

It should come as no surprise that I-25 in Colorado was clean and dry, despite last night's snowstorm. Once at the brewery, I was informed that they would need a bobtail weight. Some of the breweries do that while others don't. On my first visit to one that does, I have to wait in line, scale with my empty, drop my empty, wait in line again, scale my bobtail, pick up my loaded trailer, wait in line again, and scale loaded before leaving. Oh, how I love inefficient buraucratic wastes of time. I did get good news though, as my load was ready when I got there. Always remember the good stuff, right?

I got my dispatch and decided that it was a damn good thing my load was ready early. They have me set for 11am Pacific on Sunday. Think the customer will be open? Let's just say I have my doubts. If the load had left tonight, as scheduled, I would have had to pull two straight long overnight shifts to make it. The overnighters don't bother me per se, but with the road conditions I prefer to have the slight benefit of the sunlight and better visibility. As it worked out, I headed a couple hundred miles west tonight. I can put in a full day tomorrow and then finish off Sunday morning. The forecast for Pendleton, Oregon says rain and snow for the next couple of days so that mountain might be fun for me. It looks like I'll probably wrap up tomorrow somewhere just short of there and then run into Portland on Sunday when it is supposed to be a little warmer. Let's hope...

I'm going to take a few minutes now and share a little story. Some people, through this blog or through the message boards, occasionally ask me about coming to work for CFI. A common comment is that they appreciate hearing thoughts from someone who isn't trying to recruit them. I am not really accustomed to receiving many compliments, but I do take this as a compliment. As I've always maintained, my own selfish preference would be that CFI never hired another driver. That would mean less competition for loads and more money for me. That being said, I try my best to be as candid and honest as possible. For some people, CFI is a great fit and I tell people as much. For inexperienced drivers, I dare say it's one of the best options out there. A question that pops up quite a bit recently is whether or not people should come in amidst the "changes" related to the merger. Since there really haven't been any changes, I can only assume that they're reading some of the message board vitriol and getting confused. Maybe my little story here will resonate with some of you, maybe not. Either way, it's my blog so I'm telling it.

When I was at U of M, I was working as a NAFTA analyst for a large customs broker and going to school at night. The job involved a lot of paperwork and tedious phone calls. I really hated it, but I have always led a fairly expensive lifestyle and I needed the money. I started delivering pizzas on weekends for extra beer money and such. By pure accident, I wound up in charge of the pizza place and quit my job at the customs broker. At the age of nineteen, I had my first general manager job, at Pizza Hut.

We did annual performance reviews of the hourly employees back then. Those who got a poor review received no pay raise. Those with an acceptable review got a nickel an hour. Those who got a good review got a dime. I was allowed three "exceptional" reviews among my thirty employees, netting those people a whopping fifteen cent hourly raise. It's pathetic, I know, but that was the system. My typical employee worked around twenty hours a week. The vast majority got the ten cents, because the money they made was so pitiful and I appreciated the work they did. I was a GM at Pizza Hut for two years, meaning I went through this process twice while I was there.

Both times, I lost a handful of employees because they didn't get the fifteen cent raise. Let's think about this for a second. At twenty hours a week - Five cents equals a dollar raise. Ten cents equals two dollars. Fifteen cents equals three dollars. I shit you not. I had employees, who had always enjoyed their jobs, quit... over a dollar a week.

The majority went to other pizza places in the area. I know for a fact that Little Caesar's, where a few of them ended up, was starting people at minimum wage. I used to have beers with their GM on Sunday nights. So these people went from a job that started at $6/hr to a job that started at $5.15/hr, simply to protest the extra dollar a week that they thought they deserved. Inevitably, they would come into Pizza Hut and order breadsticks or something, so they could hang around and tell their friends how great they had it elsewhere. Then they would be asking me for a job in a few months because they were only getting ten hours a week at their new places of employment. If I had an opening I would take them back. If not, I wouldn't.

What is my point here? People are not always intelligent when it comes to their work and their pay. The sense of personal entitlement that these teenagers felt caused them to make irrational and emotional decisions regarding their employment. It seems painfully obvious to me that many people never outgrow this sense of personal entitlement. So, when they determine (for whatever reason) that they deserve something, they continue to make irrational and emotional decisions. There have been no changes related to the merger with ConWay, save the trucks being turned down to 65mph. If this was a good job six months ago, it's a good job now. If it sucks now, it sucked six months ago. If it was better to work at Little Caesar's than it was to work at Pizza Hut, then this was true before the performance review. Yet the changes, or lack thereof, spawned the discontent.

People also don't seem to outgrow the need to "stop by" their old employer and tell everyone how glad they are to have left. I'm not going to blast any trucking companies here, because I don't know enough about them or how they work for a given employee. I will say that people who will blast CFI for turning the trucks to 65mph, and then pimp a (nameless) company that is going to 62mph, are not very bright. People who will go to a company that pays teams less than CFI does, simply because pet owners don't have to "earn" the same pay as non-pet owners, are not very bright. People who will criticize CFI's "benefits" for things like a lack of vision coverage, when vision coverage typically provides savings exactly equal to the premiums paid, are not very bright. So, when you see them inevitably spout off about how bad CFI sucks now, my best advice would be to consider the source. They weren't saying that a few months ago and it was the same job at that time.

In summary, don't stay away from CFI because some people are factually challenged. Stay away because I don't want you taking my miles.

Cheers.

12/27/07

I know a guy. He's some kind of senior citizen fella that pulls a tanker. Anyhow, he used to work for CFI. Before I started here, he mentioned that one of the things that was nice about CFI is that they aren't afraid to move the power to wherever the freight is. I wasn't too sure what that would really mean to a driver, having never experienced how the process works, but it turns out he was right. They do sometimes move us a long way to get a load and that is a good thing when you get paid nothing for sitting. Today I received, to the best of my recollection, the longest deadhead I've ever had. After I got unloaded in Great Falls I was immediately dispatched to Fort Collins, Colorado. That's some 720 miles away. I've had a handful of deadheads of over 500 miles, but I think this is my longest. I get paid the same empty or loaded, so CFI has to eat the cost of moving the truck and I don't have to sit and wait. I don't know who in Joplin made the call in this case, but whoever it was - Good lookin' out my brother.

From Fort Collins, I'll be hauling a load of beer up to Portland, Oregon. That will be another 1,170 miles or so. There's still hope yet for this to be a nice paycheck. With holiday pay and stop pay and border pay and the rest of it, I'll be approaching the $2,000 mark. Then I hope for one nice-paying run to close it out. Any time I've left Oregon or Washington with a load, the miles have been nice. Since there will still be a day left in December when I get up there, I have a shot.

I headed back down through central Montana on the state and U.S. highways from Great Falls to Billings. A funny thing occurred to me as I was a couple of hours into the drive. US-12 is the same street that runs across about three miles north of my house. There it's called Michigan Avenue, but it's the same US-12. There are movie theaters, bars, restaurants, stores, and such. In Montana... umm... maybe Kevin Costner dancing with some wolves or something. Not much else.

After a nice afternoon nap in Billings, I got back on the road and rolled on into Wyoming. I had the cruise set at 65mph and the radio blasting, just enjoying the ride. Then the road was pointing south and my truck was pointing west. Oops. Didn't see the ice coming. Better get off that cruise control. The rest of the ride was pretty damn slippery. Here's something I don't understand; There aren't that many highways in Wyoming. They obviously have a prevalent winter weather pattern here every year. Why in the hell do they do such a piss poor job of maintaining the roads? It's five degrees outside right now, so the salt wouldn't help, but it was sunny and in the high 20's today. Some salt on the roads would have allowed all of that moisture (now known as ice) to evaporate. Can they just not afford it or what?

In any case, I stopped in Evansville for the night. I have a few hours to go in the morning, then I'll take a break at the brewery to prepare for my nighttime dispatch from there. I've never gone across Cabbage before, so that will be something new. I'm obviously hoping for good weather. I seriously don't know how to use tire chains. I'm not entirely stupid, so I'm sure I can figure it out, but I'll just keep my fingers crossed. The Denver radio stations are saying they got blasted pretty good tonight, but my connection is so slow right now I have a hell of a time getting any weather reports to load. Since I don't have to go all the way down into Colorado, the highway should be in decent shape for me by tomorrow afternoon when I get to Fort Collins.

Now I think I'll load my latest game of Civilization III and wrap up my epic battle against Bismarck and the Germans. I've refrained from going nuclear in order to placate the Chinese, but they're starting to piss me off. This thing might get crazy.