8/2/09

There has been an internal debate among the folks at Fenian Godfather Publishing lately. A certain segment of the staff thinks that the name of this blog should no longer be Tales from the Road, but instead should be Don't Do This. The rest of the staff is content with the current title. I tend to fall on the side of the Tales from the Road folks, since I think the others are just trying to make fun of me, but sometimes I do have to wonder. For instance, don't ever do this...


I got out of New Braunfels and down to San Antonio as soon as my ten hour break was over. At the shipper, it was amateur hour (on my part) for some reason. Drop a trailer, hook a trailer. It's not complicated. I couldn't back the empty into a spot to save my life. Just one of those days. Eventually I got everything settled and still managed to get my dispatch in before the pay period ended. Beauty.

I did have the presence of mind to check a map before leaving San Antonio, just to be sure, and then headed out. Note to self: In addition to checking a map, it would be wise to look at your fuel gauge before trekking across vast stretches of nothingness. The 'fuel and route' thing that comes with the load assignment said that I should fuel in Van Horn on my way to El Paso. That sounded fine to me, since the Pilot in San Antonio would have been 10-15 miles out of my way. I didn't realize just how far Van Horn was from San Antonio though. I made it without running out of fuel, somehow, but there couldn't have been much left in the tank with the gauge looking like that. Not lucky. Blessed.

On the way through the wilderness, around 5am, I was like a prize fighter who is knocked out against the ropes and hasn't fallen down yet. I was in control of my vehicle and all that jazz, but I was struggling to maintain. Time for a nap. The weather was pretty cool at that point in time. Obviously I wasn't going to be idling the truck with an empty fuel tank, so I assumed that the sun would wake me once the truck started to heat up. Probably three hours or so, I guessed. The heat did wake me, but I had slept for five hours rather than three. A five hour nap is excellent for leaving you feeling refreshed and ready to drive. A five hour nap is not, however, a good fit for the hours of service regulations. By the time I got to Van Horn and topped off the tanks, my 14 hour clock was almost finished. Another forced break with no rational basis behind it. Par for the course.

I could stay here for ten hours and then head to our yard in El Paso tonight, I suppose. There would be time for another break before I have to deliver near there tomorrow. I'm all discombobulated at this point though, so I think it's probably better to stay up all day and try to sleep tonight, then drive the last hundred miles tomorrow. Even I could use a sense of normalcy for a day or so every now and then.