6/19/10

Guess what will get your attention in a hurry.  Sitting at a CBP checkpoint and seeing the guy with the dog coming barrel-assing toward the cab of your truck.  Honestly officer, the trailer was sealed up when I got it.  Turns out he wasn't coming for me.  He was after the cargo van next to me.  Some might think that his dog had smelled drugs or something, but this is Arizona, home of SB1070.  We know the real story, don't we?

I get waved through those checkpoints (all of 'em, not just Arizona's) with a smile and a nod. Sometimes it ain't so bad to be Whitey. Speaking of which, have you ever noticed that the white people in the Southwest are some of the whitest white people in America? Hell, even in Michigan we get tanned a little in the summer. The white folks out here must go hogwild with the SPF 30 or something. I don't know.

I don't recall a lot of specifics about today's driving, which usually means that the drive was pretty good.  It also usually means that I was pretty tired.  I was up and rolling wicked early this morning in order to keep to my noon dispatch, so that part wasn't so peachy.  Otherwise just a long and steady drive. 

After I made my drop at the border (as in - 30 yards from the fence, no kidding), I sent in my 'dropped trailer' form.  I expected my new assignment to come through, but instead I got a message telling me that I had sent the wrong forms.  I was not at Stop 2.  I was at a relay point.  I needed to send the corresponding forms so that I could be dispatched to my next pickup.  I muttered something about weekend dispatchers and did as I was told, then checked my Qualcomm to confirm that I was right.  It says right there on the relay form that we don't send that one at a border location... err... nevermind.  I guess I'm the bonehead this time around.  In my defense though, that form used to say it wasn't for border locations.  I swear.

Anyhow, I had to scoot over to our drop yard a couple of miles away and grab my next loaded trailer.  It was ready and waiting, paperwork and all.  That's always a plus.  1,725 kilograms of foam should make for a nice and easy ride across to Texas.  Beauty.  I had managed to preserve enough of my 70 hour clock to get through that border checkpoint and on to Benson before my time ran out.

And that, my friends, brings several days of hard driving to a merciful end.  I'm not too proud to say that I am worn out.  Nobody will ever mistake me for a super trucker.  The week wraps up with a beefy 3,874 miles in the books.  I'll spend the next couple of days finishing out this run, but next payday will reflect just under $1,500 in earnings.  I'm guessing that my safety bonus will be on that check too, so the tax withholding will be a sight to behold.

I can work nine hours tomorrow and seven hours on Monday.  That should be enough to get me to the Dallas area ahead of Tuesday morning's delivery.  For now though, relaxation and baseball.  I am parked close enough to a Motel 6 so I have a speedy wi-fi connection.  The Tigers are going for eight in a row against these pitiful National League teams.  This is good.

6/18/10

I'd like to start by congratulating the great state of Nevada.  It couldn't have been easy to end Michigan's four-year reign as the unemployedest state in the union, but you've managed to take the top spot... for now.  Something tells me that we're not going away any time soon.  Don't rest on your laurels.

I think that today may have involved more hypothetical logbook calculations than any day that I've ever had on the road.  For starters, we had the D.O.T. medical exam situation to sort out.  After consulting the compliance department here at Fenian Godfather Inc., I decided against dropping my trailer in Lancaster.  I could have fit the extra stops into today, but my 70 hours were starting to dwindle.  Wasting the extra time dropping and hooking and driving back and forth seemed like a bad idea.  So I cruised into that parking lot that I showed you yesterday and found that it belongs to a vacant business.  There still were signs posted saying that I couldn't park there, but you know how it is.  Fortune favors the bold... or something.

After the clinic opened at 8am, I filled out a couple of forms and gave them back to the receptionist.  She told me that there would be a two-hour wait.  Yikes.  That ain't good.  She said that she would call me when they were ready, so I gave her my phone number and then headed out to my truck to do some calculating.  Long story short - 11am.  As long as I was out of there by 11am I would be able to reach Nogales in time, provided that there weren't any major delays along the way.

I got my phone call after 45 minutes and the exam only took a half hour or so.  Good deal.  And thus it will be another two years until I have to let another dude fondle my nads.  Back out to the road...

It's uncanny. I don't feel motivated enough to do the digging and provide you with links to all of the old posts tonight, but it's uncanny. Whenever I tell you fine people that I'm ready to head home and have a few beers, the high-paying pre-plans seem to come out of the woodwork before I get a chance to send in my home time request. Some of you have been reading this blog for quite some time, so you already know that this has happened numerous times. For those of you who are less familiar with the historical tendencies, you'll just have to take my word for it.

Yeah, again.  I was rolling across West Texas with my foot to the floor when the next pre-plan came across the satellite.  It was an 1,816 mile run from Nogales to the Atlanta suburbs.  Immediate reaction - "Holy shit!  What is that, a 4,800 mile week?"  Delayed reaction (about a half hour after I confirmed the assignment) - "Wait, what?  When does that thing deliver?"  I took another look and saw that the schedule said Tuesday at 11am.  Time for more calculating.  I have this many hours left on my 70... I'll use this many in getting to Nogales...  I'll pick up this many tomorrow... This many Sunday... This many Monday... This many Tuesday... Wait, what?
 
The schedule itself was doable.  I would have to drive full shifts every day and keep my breaks to ten hours, but I could do it.  The problem was that I wasn't picking up enough hours to drive full shifts every day.  So what gives then?  I checked the satellite forms that I've sent on the last couple of mornings, thinking that maybe I had sent the wrong hours or something.  Nope.  Everything was right.  I don't know then.  Maybe the load didn't actually have to deliver on Tuesday.  If it were an open-ended delivery, then I could use the hours that I picked up on Wednesday and everything would work out okay.  Yeah, I was sure that this was the explanation.  I ran some more calculations in my head and satisfied myself that a Wednesday delivery would make everything legal.
 
After rolling down the road a little further, I started to have my doubts.  An open-ended delivery would usually have the time listed as 00:00.  This one said 11:00.  Hmmm, something wasn't right.  So I sent a note explaining the situation with my hours and suggesting that I might have to relay the load on Monday.  I expected to get a reply asking where and when I could relay it, but instead I got a message asking when I would be able to deliver.  This seemed to indicate that the delivery time may in fact have been flexible.  Keeping in mind that I was still 600 miles from Nogales at this point, I did some more calculating.  Something along the lines of 3am on Wednesday was my best guess.  I would run out of hours on Tuesday, then pick up more hours at midnight.  It seemed that I would be somewhere in eastern Alabama by the time the hours ran out, so roughly three more hours... there you go.
 
After a few minutes, I got a note saying that the load was unassigned.  Guess that delivery wasn't so flexible after all.  A couple of minutes later I got a new assignment.  Instead of the Atlanta suburbs, I'll be going to the Dallas suburbs.  Same Tuesday morning delivery but ~800 fewer miles.  Okay then, this I can do.
 
My 14 hour clock for today was going to run out somewhere between Van Horn and El Paso.  Seeing no good parking options in that region, I decided to duck off in Van Horn and call it a night.  After a ten-hour break here, I'll have to hit the road bright and early.  I have around 500 miles to go from here.  Assuming that there are no catastrophes along the way, I should make it with an hour or so to spare.  Good enough.
 
The fact that my medical card has been renewed means that there's no longer a specific date by which I need to get home.  I had some things to do with friends next weekend, so it would be nice to get something toward home once I make it back to Texas.  It's not critical though.  The drop-dead date would be the holiday weekend, seeing as I have a bunch of explosive devices at home (and a Swedish buddy who intends to detonate every one of them).  I definitely won't want to miss that display.
 
My Tigers are spanking Dontrelle Willis at the moment, so I'm going to bed with the expectation that I'll wake to find a suitable outcome.  If only they could play these National League tomato cans every night...

6/17/10

I don't know.  What do you think?  Should I try dragging a trailer into that parking lot tomorrow?  I know I won't have any problems getting in there.  Just not really fond of parking tickets.  The little building on the upper left (with the orange "pin" by it) is a medical clinic where I can get my D.O.T. card renewed.  I have no idea what kind of business occupies the large building behind that big parking lot.  The clinic opens at 8am so, in theory, I could be in and out before the lot started to fill up tomorrow.  This is, of course, assuming that it ever does fill up.  The aerial view here is from Microsoft and I also checked an image from Google.  The lot is completely empty in both pictures.  I don't know.

If I decide against pulling a trailer into that parking lot, then I'm inclined to stick with yesterday's assessment and forget about stopping.  I would have to go to our terminal in Lancaster, drop my trailer, scoot across the 2-3 miles to the clinic, get the physical done, go back to the terminal, get my trailer, and head back out to the highway.  I haven't done the math yet to see if I would have time for this sort of diversion.  Possibly, I suppose.  A lot of the calculus would also depend on how quickly the clinic operates.  At the one back in Michigan, I was in and out within an hour.  Assuming that I'm ready and waiting when this one in Texas opens its doors tomorrow, it's probably not unreasonable to think that I could be finished in short order.  I don't know.

I knocked out a solid ten hours of driving today, getting me through Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana.  By the time I got into Texas, it became clear that I wouldn't reach the Dallas area before my hours ran out tonight.  As I started this morning, I thought that I would end up somewhere in Louisiana today.  So in that sense I guess I was pleasantly surprised to see that my estimation was a little off.  In a practical sense though, it's the miles that count - not the states.  Still lots of miles to go from here.

The drive across I-20 was a pretty simple affair.  Traffic was fairly light and I had an afternoon ballgame to break up the monotony a little bit.  I'm not a big fan of interleague play, generally speaking.  As long as my Tigers can keep beating up on these National League tomato cans though, I may have to rethink my position.

Tomorrow's drive, once I get clear of the Dallas area, looks to be another long and boring one.  I probably can't get to El Paso from here in one shift, so I'll most likely end up spending the night somewhere in the mountains.  Then, Lord willing, I'll be able to complete one more ten-hour break and finish the trip to Nogales on time.  One thing's for certain - there won't be any of that cruising slowly to save fuel.  This is one of those runs where I wish my truck could still go 70mph.

6/16/10

It's uncanny.  I don't feel motivated enough to do the digging and provide you with links to all of the old posts tonight, but it's uncanny.  Whenever I tell you fine people that I'm ready to head home and have a few beers, the high-paying pre-plans seem to come out of the woodwork before I get a chance to send in my home time request.  Some of you have been reading this blog for quite some time, so you already know that this has happened numerous times.  For those of you who are less familiar with the historical tendencies, you'll just have to take my word for it.

I got rolling around 10am this morning.  10am, incidentally, is the correct time to get rolling in the morning.  So one might say that the day was off to a good start.  I was due in Matthews, North Carolina by 5pm but I was going to try my luck at getting rid of the load a little early.  3pm was my targeted time - not ridiculously early such that I would be sent away from the consignee, but still early enough to beat the afternoon traffic around Charlotte.  If I were able to get rid of the load early as I hoped, then I would be able to send in my request for home time and possibly catch another assignment today.

Having encountered no traffic at all during the first half of the drive, I was running way ahead of schedule.  I saw a sign for a truck stop on I-77 in Columbia so I decided to duck off and take a lunch break.  Cue the telltale double chirp of the satellite unit.  At first I was kinda glad to see that I had a pre-plan.  I wasn't going to have much luck in finding parking once I was empty, so this way I would at least have somewhere to go.  And requesting home time today wasn't an absolute imperative.  I needed to get back and renew my medical card by June 24th, so taking one more run and sending the request in a day or two wouldn't kill me.  From anywhere in that part of the country, I'm only a couple of days from home.

Once I got backed into a parking space at the truck stop, I took a look at the new assignment.  In light of yesterday's remark about getting home to a fridge full of beer and a comfy couch, sometimes you just gotta chuckle...

Oh well, it's kinda hard to complain about squeezing in an extra $800 before heading home for a couple of weeks. Between this extra trip and my upcoming safety bonus, there should be plenty of cash to keep the fridge stocked.

My delivery in Matthews turned out to be a drop/hook, so that was a nice surprise. The folks at the distribution center were polite and friendly as well. This was an even bigger surprise. After making a quick and easy swap of my loaded trailer for an empty one, it was time to retrace my steps down toward Columbia.

My next pickup was at the tire place in Lexington. I had been there once before. On that previous trip, there had been a paperwork issue that made for one big hassle. On today's trip, everything went smoothly. I made another quick and easy drop/hook, sent in my loaded call, and hit the road.

My original plan summary (pictured above) said that the load would deliver in Nogales at 8am on Saturday.  That's just crazy talk though.  The paperwork says that the load must deliver no later than 8am on Monday.  In all likelihood, we would be looking at something in the middle.  Depending on the broker's hours of operation, I was expecting to deliver either on Sunday afternoon (if they were open) or on Monday morning.  As I merged back onto I-20, the dispatch came over the satellite.  Assholes.

I'm due in Nogales by noon (3pm in the civilized world) on Saturday.  2009 miles in less than 72 hours is a pretty shitty deal in my book.  After I drive my balls off for the next few days, that damned broker had better not be closed for the weekend.  These jokers have pulled that shit on me once or twice before.  I wasn't amused.

My own personal distaste for 600+ mile driving shifts is not the only issue with my schedule for the next few days.  Now it's not entirely clear to me where or when I'll be able to renew my medical card.  I'm probably not making it back to Michigan by the 24th, so it'll have to be handled somewhere on the road.  When I first saw this assignment, I thought that I would be able to stop at our terminal in Lancaster, Texas and go to a clinic somewhere around there.  With this kind of balls to the wall dispatch though, I can't really fool around.  Lancaster will fall somewhere in the middle of Friday's drive.  I won't have time to stop there and then resume the trip after getting my physical done.  I guess I'll just have to get to Nogales and then take it from there.  I'll have five days left on my current card at that point.  I'm sure we'll come up with something.

I got through South Carolina and Georgia tonight before parking at a little truck stop in Heflin, Alabama.  I think this leaves me somewhere in the neighborhood of 1,700 miles from Nogales, depending on whether or not I cut the corner on one of those "not recommended" state highways.  This load is a shade under 30,000 pounds, so it might behoove me to stick with the freeways and go through Tucson.  In any case, I'll have to get cracking bright and early tomorrow.  Lots of ground to cover.