The First Thousand...

We are on our way home.
We woke up yesterday to a beautiful day, but it was bittersweet for both of us as we drove the truck for the last time. I was very emotional; after all, this truck has been our home for several months and I've felt very cozy in it. We've had alot of fun and laughs and, well, I'm never good at goodbyes anyhow.
We met our owners in Oneonta, and they happily took over the truck. Turns out they are going to run it for awhile; I'm not surprised because Jerry is always saying how he's too bored with retirement lol! He was chomping at the bit to get behind that wheel yesterday!
We are in Ohio, getting ready to get back in the car after a good night's sleep. We only drove 500 miles yesterday due to the late start, and we have every intention of making up for it today! A nice rest makes all the difference.
Being in Ohio reminded me of the last time we were there. We were laid over there for a weekend and found a place in a little town to do laundry. We struck up a nice conversation with the proprietor of the laundromat, a very nice man by the name of Al Toomer. We spent at least a couple hours talking to him-- Jeff more so than I-- and Jeff was thrilled to hear that Mr. Toomer's nephew is Amani Toomer, a runningback for the New York Giants. Jeff, being a huge football fan, was very impressed with that. Mr. Toomer gave us his busines card, and told us to call him next time we were in Ohio. He wanted to have us over to his home and barbeque with the family. He also gave us his brother's business card!-- who owns some businesses in Las Vegas. Evidently we have orders to contact him if we are ever in town as well, so he can give us a grand tour.
It's always great to meet nice people out on the road. And if we hadn't gotten to Ohio so late last night, we probably would have given Al a call.
But we are anxious to get home as well. I must say, it's harder to drive a car across the country, compared to a truck. There's no sleeper to stretch out in!
Getting in a car for the first time after being in a truck for any length of time can be quite a shock at first-- more so in this rental car we're driving; it's a Ford Focus, very tiny and very low to the ground. It took us both some time to adjust to the change. Driving next to trucks is especially frightening!-- we could fit this little car right under the trailer. The tires are taller than this car!
I experienced another "first" yesterday. We had stopped at a gas station in Pennsylvania, and there by one of the fuel islands was a young Amish couple. He was a handsome man, in a straw hat and suspenders, filling up a gas container; she was standing on the fuel island, waiting for us to pass so she could cross to the store. Like the young girl in Lousiana (from an earlier post) I was awestruck by how simple and beautiful she was. She had on a fancy black dress and bonnet, pale skin with strawberry blond hair and freckles. Just a wisp of a girl really-- the dress almost swallowed her tiny little frame! She smiled shyly at us as she passed in front of our car, and I wanted to chase after her to ask if I could take her picture. But I wasn't sure if that would be well-received... so I admired her and her husband from a distance.
Of course this opened a new topic of conversation for me and Jeff. Not only did I admire the young Amish couple, but I deeply admire and respect their way of life as well. They are oblivious to the American lifestyle; away from crime, politics and the hustle and bustle-- and the overall stress-- of daily life away from their farmland. Pennsylvania is a beautiful state-- I know I've said it before but I don't mind repeating it.
Illinios is not so beautiful... and that's where we find ourselves at this writing. Not much scenery, but the sun is going down and at least we are being treated to a spectacular sunset. Two thousand miles to go...

The Last Run

We are sitting at the TA Truck Stop in Bloomsbury, New Jersey now. We are very close to our consignee, but it's much too early to deliver, so we stopped here to grab showers and eat. It's a beautiful day here, heavenly cool compared to the oppressive humidty we've endured up to this point.
Although I despise New Jersey as a whole, Bloomsbury is far enough on the outskirts that it's a quaint little place, surrounded by trees and green grass and valleys. Just over the border from Pensylvania. Our consignee is in Suffern, which is a tiny town just north of the New Jersey border, into New York. This will be our last run for awhile... and the funny thing is, we traveled this very same route on our first run, way back in April.
It seems like ages ago. Life on the road has been joyous, funny, adventurous and heartbreaking all rolled into one. Contrary to what some would believe, the time on the road passes by in a blur and the days all run together. I remember not long ago, in Reno, we were talking to another driver as he was polishing the rims on his 18 wheeler. He remarked that he woke up that morning and didn't know where he was. I burst out laughing and said, "That's how I feel every day!"
And it's true! Even worse, I couldn't tell you what runs we had directly before this-- I'd have to look over our logs and paperwork to figure that one out. Or, I could just read over this blog!
It doesn't really matter where we are though... the very thought of trucking across the country is what's appealing. Not everyone gets it-- so many people have given me a look of shock when I tell them what I do: "How can you drive that much without hating it?" To which I say: "You sit in an office all day, with the same view out your window, staring at a computer. I sit in an 'office' too, but the view from my window is constantly changing, and I can go outside and enjoy it any time I want! There's no boss looking over my shoulder... the closest thing that comes to that would be the Qualcomm, and I know how to shut that thing up!" :)
And like any driver who loves his job, Jeff and I decided against flying home-- we are renting a car and driving instead! One last cross-country fling before we settle down for awhile. New York to Sacramento-- Highway 80 all the way!
I'm looking out my "office" window, and see Jeff making his way across the parking lot, fresh and happy from his shower. Time to go for now... but I'll be back later to tell you about some little oddities we've spotted while out here on the road.
For now, we're keeping the shiny side up!

New York = Home!

Yesterday's run was the longest we have done in awhile now... and boy were we feeling it by this morning when we finally made it to the consignee. Jeff was worse off than I was-- he never slept yesterday and when his leg came up at 12:30AM, he wasn't sure if he'd make it for his five hours.
And because I was worried about him, I couldn't sleep!
It was a rough journey, but once we dropped off the freight we found a nearby truck stop and crashed for a few hours. Once awake we were offered a run to Suffern, NY for tomorrow.
We'd been hoping for a run to New York; but like California, we thought it would take a bit longer than this! Because it happened so fast I choose to see it as a good omen. For us, northern New York is like our second home base because that's where our owners live, and we made the decision over the weekend that if we can't get a load to California, then we need to try to get a load to New York so we can take the truck back to our owners and go home. And that's exactly what we're doing. We are taking an extended leave so we can rest and spend time with family.
Unlike the standard trucking industry, expediting is highly limited on the West Coast. Most expedited companies don't even deliver there-- we joined with our company specifically because they do. And while freight to California is common, it's still not easy being in the right place at the right time to secure a load there. This is why we've only been home once since April, and this is why we're going home to stay for awhile.
And we have every intention of returning to expediting, in some way or another. Our owner is going to look into securing us a "dedicated run"-- meaning we'd have a regular route we travel with regular visits home. It will be great if it works out, because I love this industry and I can't imagine doing anything else. But a balance is important too-- especially in Jeff's case because he is the father of two very young boys. The oldest had a birthday in May, and Jeff missed it. It broke his heart, as any parent can imagine. His youngest is having a birthday this weekend, and all this time we figured Jeff would make it for that one; once again, he'll be missing it. As devastated as he is, the good news is he'll have plenty of time at home now to make up for that lost time.
For me, I have a little niece at home who was four months old when I left in April. She is nearly nine months old now, and in the time I've been gone she has developed a lively personality and has learned how to crawl and stand and is very close to walking. For the first four months of her life, I spent nearly every evening with her, bonding and enjoying all of the little milestones of her age. I have missed her more than I could have ever imagined.
And let's not forget the Boo-Dog! I've missed him too. We all have lots of catching up to do!
For those of you who are wondering, the blog shall continue. It may take on a different theme for now, but I still have lots of stories to tell from being on the road. And no doubt, there will be more of those in the future!
For now, it's shower time, as we prepare for another long run to Suffern, New York.

Don't Be Oh-Feared!!

Like most couples, Jeff and I have catch phrases that make us laugh. Quotes from movies like Fargo (It's my DEEEL), Pee Wee's Big Adventure (It's not for thale, Fran-this!) and the Ren & Stimpy cartoons (Eeet's so Beeg!) never fail to crack us up. We've even come up with some of our own, and those have evolved in their own special way while we've been on the road.
The most popular one is "o-freared". It started off as a cute way to say "afeared" instead of "afraid". One day we were driving through Auburn California and Jeff saw the sign for a little town called Ophir, and at that point we began saying "oh-feared" whenever panic was in the future.
More recently we were in upstate New York and saw a sign for Frear Arena (say that ten times really fast!) and again our little catch-word has evolved. Now if we're really frightened we say we're "oh-freared". Just plain old fear is "oh-feared".
Got it? Pay attention because there's a quiz at the end of this blog! :)
Based on our personal vocabulary, here is a typical conversation between co-drivers on any given day:

Julie: Oh no, here comes a bridge!
Jeff: Are you oh-feared?
Julie: No, I'm really scared! I'm oh-freared!
Jeff: Don't be oh-freared-- just BEEEEEE careful!

There have been a couple times that both of us have been seriously oh-freared on the road. The one that comes immediately to mind was our jaunt over a 9,000 foot summit that we weren't even supposed to be on.
I know I've already ranted in this blog about misguiding road signs. The ones in Reno, Nevada nearly got us (and some innocent bystanders) killed.
We had just picked up at a shipper in Reno, and were on our way to Phoenix. We were following the route our company suggested, and came to one of those forks in the road. We went the way the sign seemed to imply, and soon found ourselves climbing up and up and up, on a tiny two-lane road that winded continuously around cliffs and spectacular views.
We crested at 9000 feet, with no road signs in sight, and no way to turn around. All this time we assumed we were still on Hwy 395, because that's what the last sign had told us.
After the crest we began descending, and I could see Lake Tahoe in the distance. What a view! I took a picture. Down we went, taking the curves very slow. It seemed to take forever but finally we could see a stop sign at a three-way intersection ahead. We also saw a highway identification sign, and it was NOT the highway we thought we were on. There was no time to vent our frustration about that, however-- what happened next was very quick and reflexive.
There was road construction going on down there, and lots of cross traffic. Jeff started applying the brakes-- and the brakes weren't there.
I shouldn't quite put it like that. There were brakes, but barely. We were experiencing what is known as "brake fade", and this phenomena is what inspired those "Runaway Truck Ramps" you see along Hwy 80 and other mountainous roads. It's a situation no truck driver ever hopes to find himself in. Using your brakes excessively can cause them to overheat, and at that point they're practically non-existent. This is what was happening to us. We could smell the brakes burning and could see the smoke pouring out from under the truck.
Of course, that was after the fact. At the time, all Jeff could concentrate on was controlling the truck, and I was frantically trying to motion to other cars to stop.
We rolled into the intersection, and thank God Jeff didn't panic. Somehow he managed to stop the truck just a few feet beyond the stop sign. The cars in the intersection must have realized what was happening because they stopped too.
It all worked out in the end, but I can't help thinking-- even to this day-- that the results could easily have been so tragic. I'm really grateful to Jeff for keeping his cool, and I'm so thankful the other drivers were paying attention.
We now know what not to do when it comes to driving in mountains. And a few weeks later, we rolled through the Rockies without any problems.
Famous last words: Don't be oh-freared, just BEEEEEE CAREFUL!

More Bouncing (Of A Different Kind)

Right after I finished the previous blog, I gathered my things together to walk up to the restroom so I could wash my face and brush my teeth. Lightning in the distance greeted me... does it ever stop around here? I've seen enough lightning to last a lifetime-- not that I'm tired of it mind you; I'm just amazed how common it is in these parts during the summer.
I figured I'd better hurry, just in case the storm gets too close before I can make it back to the truck. I was about halfway across the parking lot when a big bright bolt bounced down just beyond the parking lot where I was standing... out in the open.
I made a beeline back to the truck, and then felt silly telling Jeff I was afraid. I don't know how to act in this weather. I know it's rare that people get struck by lightning. I also know my mother-in-law was struck when she was 6 years old. That same strike killed her 13 year old cousin. And I really don't want to know what it feels like to sizzle.
Turns out I was smart to get back in the truck. This past hour I've been watching lightning dancing around the parking lot from the safety of the cab. It was so spectacular even Jeff came down out of the clouds to watch it with me. Right in front of us! Dazzling bolts bouncing all around the ground, and one even hit the top of a truck trailer parked across the lot from us.
It's now raining... and I'm happy to be parked instead of having to drive in it again. I'll feel very cozy tonight curled up in my bunk.

Bouncing Back And Forth!

Tonight we sit in Kansas City, Missouri. On the advice of our owner, we deadheaded here from McPherson, Kansas-- supposedly because we have a better chance of getting a load out West from here. Wouldn't ya know, we got a great load!-- to Tennessee. Even funnier: we have to pick up the freight in McPherson Kansas! We deadheaded here for absolutely nothing, AND it took about 35 gallons of fuel just to get here. That's the business for ya! One positive thing is that we don't have to leave until Sunday-- we have the weekend to relax.
We finished a pretty difficult run from Chicago to Kansas, dropped the freight off this morning. Jeff is sick now and in bed trying to rest, and I'm close behind him. I've only had about three hours sleep since yesterday morning. This last run was an overnighter, and I've never quite gotten used to sleeping in a moving truck. My leg began at 3:00 this morning, somewhere outside of Kansas City. There was lightning all around in the distance, but Jeff said he hadn't encountered any rain while he'd been driving. It figures!-- no sooner did I take over the wheel that I was headlong into the lightning and the pouring rain. I love watching mid-western storms, but from a distance! Driving in them is a different story entirely, and it doesn't help at all that my night vision is already lacking, and gets very bad in the rain. Because of the DOT rules for log compliance, Jeff was not allowed to take over for me, and besides he needed to sleep anyways.
We were under serious pressure to get the freight to Kansas on time, and I had to keep moving. I rolled into Kansas City and a mess of freeway signs that made no sense in the pouring rain, and somehow I ended up on the wrong highway headed north. When I turned around to head south, that onramp was closed for construction. Not cool! Lightning was crackling all around me and I'm thinking to myself, What on earth am I doing out here, in a big truck in pouring rain at 4:00 in the morning? All of a sudden "home" seemed very comforting, and also very far away.
I started sobbing. I'm really good at that when it's 4 in the morning and I'm in an electrical storm in the middle of nowhere. The same thing happened to me in Virginia a few weeks back. Deja vu? Jeff took over the wheel for me in Virginia while I had an emotional meltdown, but I refused his offer this time. No meltdowns for me!-- I just sobbed quietly and got myself through the mess and made it back to the freeway I needed to be on. After about an hour the storm was behind me, and it was smooth sailing from that point on.
I'm always happy when I get to drive during sunrise. For several years I worked swing shift and went a long time without seeing a sunrise. Now I try to drive that leg whenever I can. This morning was beautiful! Most people who have never been to Kansas imagine it to be flat, and it is on the western side of the state!-- but the eastern side is rolling green hills for as far as you can see. I never mind driving through there. And with the storm clouds behind me, they provided a magnificent foreground for the sun to rise over.
And the freight arrived on time. I made it there at exactly 8:30, which was when it was due. Not bad after the traffic nightmare in Chicago!
I tell myself, it could always be worse. I could have been Josh last night, driving a tractor-trailer through the Bronx and almost getting blown off the George Washington Bridge. He said it scared the hell out of him, and I can totally relate to that! (as I'm sure you all have figured out from reading this blog!)
Jeff is up in his bunk, high in the clouds of our deluxe condo sleeper, and he is yawning loudly. It's killing me, I'm realizing how tired I am. It's time for sleep. Tomorrow is all about the mundane chores that we tend to save for the weekends: laundry, shopping for truck supplies, and wrapping up the week's paperwork. It will be nothing to blog about, which means it will be time for some storytelling! :) I still have a few good ones, so stay tuned!
And have a wonderful weekend!

Going Back To Indiana... NOT!!!

We are on our way to North Chicago, from Gary Indiana. Traffic is horrible, in fact I've never seen it so bad. It's just one perpetual road construction nightmare. We've gone maybe 30 miles in 90 minutes. I'm just grateful we got out of Gary-- for a few minutes it looked like we weren't. The freeway onramp was closed and we had to follow detour signs, which eventually disappeared in the middle of a slum . How convenient! We don't like following detour signs for that very reason.
I just can't find anything endearing about Indiana. I'm sure there must be nice parts, but I haven't seen them. To make matters worse, I've had the Jackson 5 song "Going Back To Indiana" playing in my head since yesterday. My head is actually starting to hurt.
I was up late last night, long after Jeff went to sleep. I made an amazing discovery-- Google Earth. Now I don't know how long this program has been around, but I just found out about it around 2:00 this morning and downloaded it immediately. WOW is all I can say! I highly recommend this program to everyone-- it's free and it's fantastic. It's a virtual satellite program that enables you to "fly" to any point you want around the globe, and then you can zoom in for closeups. Nothing I could write here would convey how cool this program is, I won't even try. Just one more thing I love about computers.
I reluctantly went to bed around 3:30, and woke up at 4:30 to Jeff calling out my name. "Did you feel that?!" he was saying. He told me he thought the truck was shaking, but I hadn't felt anything. We both drifted off again, and didn't realize anything was wrong until we fired up the engine to leave for Chicago today. That's when we saw that the right passenger side mirror was twisted forward. That's also when we realized we'd been hit by another truck in the night. That's what woke Jeff up.
We've been hit before, in San Antonio a few months ago. A truck was backing into the spot beside us, and his trailer caught our side mirror on the driver's side. It was exactly like being in an earthquake. Because our curtains were drawn we didn't know what was happening. The driver finally realized that he'd hit us, and bailed out of the parking lot with Jeff chasing him on foot. Jeff managed to get the truck's company name and trailer number, but we never did find a telephone number to report the driver to his Safety Division. The damage was very minor, and just required Jeff to push the mirror back in place.
This time it's not quite that easy. The truck hit our mirror as he was pulling out; our mirror is completely out of alignment and there's no easy fix for that. Jeff's having a terrible time seeing from that side and it's making lane changes a nightmare. He will be a frazzled mess by the time we get to the shipper.
Did I mention it's also pouring?!
And once again, the company directions are completely wrong. We will be very late...
Chicago is gorgeous, by the way. We've seen it both in daylight and nighttime. We drove right past the Sears Tower. But with the traffic the way it is, it would be nicer to look at it on Google Earth! :)

Go West Young Man (& Woman)

We completed our Delaware to Chicago run late this morning. Finally got to bed at 3:30AM, and woke up to the computer beeping out load offers after only three hours of rest. This particular offer really opened my eyes though-- it was going to Arizona! Yes I love Arizona, but even better than that, it's west, and west is home for us. I could have done cartwheels in the cab at that moment.
We had driven about 150 miles to pick up the freight when the load was cancelled. Goodbye Arizona, goodbye home. At least for now.
I try to be optimistic. My feeling is that if this load was cancelled, it's because there's a better one out there. This load didn't pay all that great anyhow; we were willing to take it so we could get home. We are now parked at a truck stop in Gary, Indiana, and we have decided we will not take any load offers that aren't going west. We have let our dispatch know of this too, in much kinder terms of course. The last thing you want to do is piss off your dispatcher! :)
The run to Chicago was not without it's drama. It poured all the way through Maryland. At one point I started seeing lights and sirens whizzing past me, and after about the fifth one I turned on the CB for the scoop on what was happening. The traffic was already backing up-- always a good indication of an accident ahead.
More police cars, two ambulances, and about four firetrucks, and the CB was hopping with commentary from other truckers. One thing I've noticed-- truck drivers get very excited about accidents. The traffic jams are no fun because they're losing money, but I suppose it all balances out.
CBs are great for information in situations like this. How big is the accident? What mile marker is it located at? How long is the traffic jam? Is there a detour and if so, how and where do I get back on the freeway?
I learned this was a big one, involving a tractor-trailer and a car. There were so many people talking on the CB their voices were cutting each other out. But there was this one lady driver who carried over everybody else, and she was going on and on about her family and her job and the last 40 years of her life. I wanted to scream at her to SHUT UP!!-- she was interfering with the information. But another driver beat me to it: "What do you think this is lady, a telephone?!" Of course, she continued without missing a beat. I wonder if she even heard him.
When we finally did get through the jam, the accident scene was hellacious. The truck drove off the highway and down an embankment, and his trailer came unhitched in the process. Somehow his tractor ended up upside down on top of the trailer, and there were mangled pieces and debris all over the eastbound lane below. I heard there was a car involved too? I didn't see a car, unless it was under that horrific mess of what used to be a truck. God help those poor people! The truck driver walked away from it, amazingly enough. But he most certainly was driving too fast for conditions, and it very well may have cost somebody (or several people) their lives.
I've had way too many truckers blow past me on the freeway doing about 90 or 100. I see it all the time out here, and I find it appalling. It's really bad when they tailgate four wheelers at that speed. I can't imagine 80,000 pounds of equipment barrelling up behind me at 100 mph.
That's not to say there aren't any idiot four wheelers out there. I've seen as many-- if not more-- of those. It's a sad indication to me that people just have no regard for others anymore. The world of drivers has become so narcissistic that people just refuse to consider the consequences until it's too late-- and usually they end up taking innocent vicims with them. How selfish is that? Just so you can get one more car-- or truck-- ahead of everybody else?
Enough of this rant... we've just been given a load to Kansas. Although it's not quite west, it's headed west, and that will have to be good enough for now.

Off To Chicago!

Well our run for the government was a success-- at least for the government! Poor Jeff was exhausted and irritated by the time we finished this afternoon. More of the same with bad directions; we drove all over downtown Albany looking for Main Street (where our pick-up location was supposedly at) for nearly an hour, and we never did find Main Street. We found out from our shipper that Main Street isn't in downtown Albany, it's on the other side of the river on the outskirts of town. To make matters worse, the new directions were messed up as well. When we finally got to the pick up, another surprise: no loading dock, which means Jeff had to hand-truck the freight from out of the building to the truck. Our dispatch is supposed to notify us of things like this, but someone dropped the ball.
We made it to the consignee (delivery location) in New Jersey at 1:00, and endured one of the most grueling security inspections I've ever experienced. Now, we have hauled ALOT of high security freight, and been to alot of military bases and other such places, but never has a security checkpoint been so intensive. They searched our truck inside and out, confiscated my camera (but only for the delivery-- it was returned once we exited the grounds) and practically interrogated us as to what we were delivering. I shouldn't be surprised-- we were at the Picatinny Arsenal-- which stores military ammunition of all types. We weren't delivering ammunition (thank God) but going onto the grounds is enough reason for the security. Funny thing is, through their extensive search they missed the bottle rockets Jeff has stored in the side cubby underneath our cargo box! We had pretty much forgotten we even have them!-- they are leftover from our Fourth of July bash in New Hampshire. At any rate, we had a good laugh about that.
The delivery was difficult because once again, no loading dock. Once again Jeff had to use the handtruck to cart these 100 pound boxes through a long building. By the time he was finished he was spitting tacks. I can't blame him. It's not the extra physical work that angers him-- it's not being warned about it.
This great paying load, it turns out, wasn't worth the trouble.
But we have put it behind us now, as we are on the New Jersey - Pennsylvania border and have a better load going from Delaware to Chicago. Chicago tends to have alot of California-bound freight, so we are hoping once again to get home.
We are getting ready to head to Delaware tonight. We will park in our pick-up location to rest and be ready for the 9:00 appointment tomorow. From there we will head out to Chicago.
I'm very sorry I haven't been able to post more on this site. I'd hoped to do so over the weekend, but a storm blew through Albany and totally wiped out my Internet signal for the remainder of time that we were there. Very disappointing. I still have lots to say but must save it for another time. For now I will just say thanks for visiting, and wish you a happy day.

Edited From 8-13

It's been an exhausting few days since leaving North Carolina. This post finds me in Albany, New York, finally rested and able to blog a bit more.
We thought we'd be laid over in D.C. for the weekend, and were actually discussing an outing to the monuments since we missed them last time. And then the computer sent a load offer to Albany that we couldn't refuse. Back up through Jersey we went, and more bridges. One was so bad Jeff banished me to the sleeper so I wouldn't freak out lol.
We didn't get to Albany until 1:30 this morning, with an 8:00am delivery time. We were already tired from the previous run, and only permitted a few hours' sleep before we'd have to get up again and deliver our freight. The computer started squawking this morning at 5:00, reminding us it's time to leave. They think if we're only an hour away, we should leave three hours early. Jeff and I have an excellent on-time record, but you wouldn't know it the way our company behaves with the computer reminders!
I should take a moment here and talk about the Qualcomm, or Customer Link as it's also referred to. This is the computer that allows us to comunicate with our dispatch, and vice versa. It's mounted right on the dash of the truck. All of our business activity is recorded on the computer, and this activity is sent via coded messages back and forth. We also receive load offers over the computer. I like this aspect of it because the offers give you all the information about the load that you need-- miles, pay, times for pickup and delivery etc. If you want to accept the offer you send a 01 message; if you want to refuse the load you send a 12 message. There are other codes as well, for pickup arrival, delivery confirmations, and checking in and out of cities (or express centers, as my company refers to them).
But the Qualcomm can also be a pain, like the reminders that came this morning.
That's enough about the Qualcomm-- I just wanted to touch on the subject since it's such an integral part of truck driving.
We've been dispatched to New Jersey for Monday, running some government freight. These loads always pay well, but they're not without their own headaches. The paperwork has to be precise, the truck is tracked with satellite surveillance for the entire run, and the truck must be monitored at all times by the drivers should they stop for any reason. There is also a whole new set of macro codes that must be sent to the government dispatch as well as our own company over the Qualcomm. This is only the second time we've had a load like this.
Will write more later!

Song of the South

I've been working on spreadsheets today. Funny how you can look at a spreadsheet of your earnings and then say, "Where did the money go?!" In our case, most of it is being eaten up by fuel costs. Poor truckers, how do they do it? Something has to give, and soon.
Jeff was napping while I worked, and when he woke up he was hungry. We figured we'd eat on our way to Raleigh tonight. The question of where to dine came up, and there across the street was a Waffle House. Need I say more? Everything pales in comparison, in Jeff's eyes. As I've said in an earlier post, he would eat there morning, noon and night if he could.
I decided I would finally enjoy a waffle there. All the times we've gone, and I've never had one. So we park the truck and notice the windows of the restaurant are fogged up. As soon as we get out of the truck, our glasses fog up too! That's how muggy it is here.
Even the tree frogs were looking for relief-- there were several of them perched on the restaurant windows outside!
There were three people working there tonight-- and all three greeted us as we walked in. The jukebox was playing a catchy tune and we were enjoying another great meal, when we realized the song that was playing was ABOUT the Waffle House!
We asked our waitress about this, and she said there were at least 20 songs on the jukebox that were Waffle House originals. Her personal favorite was a country music version, and she happily punched the numbers on the machine to play it for us. The cook groaned, "Oh NO, we have to hear this AGAIN?!" She danced and sang the words to us as we ate.
Soon we were chatting with all three Waffle House employees, and they gave Jeff a map of locations across the country (and I'm sure that sooner or later, we'll get to them all).
And so I'm looking at this brochure they gave Jeff. There is also a menu here-- and remember what I was saying about the hash browns? You can get them with various toppings, and each topping has a cute term. I couldn't remember them all before but I have them now in front of me.
All of their hash browns come "scattered". This simply means that they're cooked evenly on the griddle. But you can also order them capped (mushrooms), smothered (onions), covered (cheese), chunked (ham), topped (chili), diced (tomatoes), and peppered (jalapenos)-- to which I say: UGH!
Jeff likes them smothered, covered and topped.
I like mine scattered well and left alone.
One thing Jeff and I do agree on: the Waffle House in Clayton, North Carolina is the BEST we've been to! We were provided with entertainment while we ate, and the conversation was lively as well.
And that's why Jeff asked me to title this post Song of the South. He adores the Waffle House, especially when they sing to you.

Driving in Circles

We delivered our freight in Goldsboro, North Carolina at about midnight last night. It was very frustrating trying to find the consignee (aka customer we are delivering to) because of very dark roads in very dark places. After driving around and around, Jeff was ready to hang it up and call our company to tell them to get another truck to pick up our freight and deliver it. It's very irritating to try and decipher directions from the company sometimes-- they don't always get it right. You would think they would try to be more conscientious about their directions but the opposite is true. At any rate, we found our warehouse just in time, dropped the freight and parked at a Wal-Mart around the corner to sleep.
I woke up this morning to a bright sun and oppressive heat. Add some humidity and you'll see me huddled in our truck in front of the air conditioning. I did brave the outside environment long enough to get some supplies at Wal-Mart, and was browsing through the crafts section when I caught a bizarre sight: a mounted deer head singing "Sweet Home Alabama" complete with moving mouth and head. He seemed to be looking straight at me as he sang, "Lord I'm coming home to you!" It was far too soon after waking up for me to completely absorb that scene.
It's times like this I realize just how far from home I am. You would NEVER see something like that in California.
Upon returning to the truck Jeff informed me of the load offer we received over the Qualcomm computer. We are picking up in Raleigh and delivering to Washington DC tomorrow. What's with all these low mile load offers? As a team, we should be getting cross-country runs at best. Guess business is slow.
And I guess we won't be heading to California just yet...

Quick Post

We finally got a load offer taking us to North Carolina. This is a good thing, as the next load could very well take us home to California. I hear that my company gets tons of Cali loads out of Durham. Let's all cross our fingers that Jeff and I can get home? It will only be the second time since April.
I know of an old spiritual guru who has an ashram in Durham. He counseled me in the late 80's, and even used some of my writings for a book he published. Of course, that was a much different time, but I've always wanted to meet him. Wouldn't it be cool to pull up in our big truck to finally say Hello? It's a nice thought, but as it always goes in this business, you ever know where you will end up!

We Meet At Last!

Today's post finds me pensive-- which is always a great time to write! I'm also very happy to know there are people out there who are actually reading this. It makes it all the more fun for me to keep this blog updated.
I was away for a day because we had a very nice visit with my friend Josh (previously written about in this blog). Turns out we were going to be in the same city (Atlanta) at the same time, so we had a wonderful dinner last night at Sonny's Real Pit Barbeque. Great food, and great service. It was awesome to finally meet in person too!
I neglected to say in my previous post that Josh is gay, and so is his co-driver Rick. It just so happens that the truck they drive is hot pink (or as Josh prefers to say, fuschia). I remember when he first went to pick up the truck to start his new job, he called me and said with a laugh, "Julie, I think this was meant to be! The truck is pink, and will be driven by two fags!" Today I took a picture of Josh and Rick standing outside their fuschia truck, with Josh's dog Moose hanging his head out the window. Perfect!
They are gone now, off to parts unknown. Jeff and I are still waiting for a load offer. Seems to be very busy tonight in Atlanta, lots of trucks here. It's been raining off and on all day, and when I say rain, I mean heavy downpours with all the extras. The lightning gets so close you can hear it crackle and pop. It reminds me of when Ren whizzed on the electric fence, times ten.
We came here by way of Mobile, Alabama yesterday. I've been through Mobile before, and I didn't like it. Too many bridges. Yesterday's run allowed me to bypass those bridges by taking another interstate before we got anywhere near them. I was relieved, to say the least! Until, that is, I saw a span looming in the distance. It looked okay until I started climbing it... and climbing, and climbing, and climbing... YIKES! Here comes the wind. Oh NO! I started to panic, and Jeff's saying "It's okay Sweetie, just don't look down! Look straight ahead!" I was getting dizzy and felt faint. The truck slowed down to a crawl.
If I could just drive over the things without wobbling, it wouldn't be so bad. But there's always that wind!
Coming off that bridge landed me on a causeway, which continued for a couple of miles. I can handle those because they're low enough that there's no wind.
I'm sorry to keep harping about bridges... it's just the one thing I hate about driving a truck. You can see over the sides. It can be pretty spooky.
The "bridgiest" state I've been in would have to be Louisiana. There are bridges everywhere, because of all the water. That's where I also saw the longest bridge of my life. It was actually what's called a "causeway"-- more like an elevated roadway. Eighteen miles long over swamps and marshes, rivers and lakes. It was surreal and creepy to drive that thing, but luckily there was a right hand shoulder and no wind.
Causeways don't bother me too much, unless they're eighteen miles long! :)
The last bridge I'll comment on will be the one crossing from Pensacola, Florida headed south over the bay. I'm told it's a temporary bridge because a hurricane blew the original one down. Several sections of it are actually just metal grates, and it sits right on the water. It was only one lane wide. Thank God I wasn't driving, I would have completely frozen.
And ultimately, this is why I wanted to drive as a team. When I freak out, Jeff can come to my rescue. He's not afraid of anything. Makes me so mad! :)

The Best and the Worst of America (In My Humble Opinion)

At this point in time, we have now been to 43 states. The ones we have missed are the Dakotas, Minnesota, Rhode Island and Idaho. For this particular post I can't comment on those, but I have lots to say about everything else!
I wanted to go on the road to see the country. I'm sure most truckers got started for the same reason. We get paid to see the country but we certainly aren't tourists-- most times you're seeing the country from the cab of the truck. We've been lucky though, in that expediting leaves us free time to explore some of the places we're laid over in. The most recent off-duty jaunt for us was when we spent Fourth of July on a beach right at the New Hampshire-Massachusets border. The plan had originally been to rent a car and drive to Boston for the fireworks, but when we found the beach, we decided to stay there. We ran through the waves, made sandcastles, hob-nobbed with the locals. We had dinner at a seafood place where Jeff ordered an entire Maine lobster for the unbeatable price of $13, and he said it's the best lobster he's ever had (and he hasn't had many, because in California they're very expensive) And that's what's been so fun about all of this-- you never know where you're going to end up, or quite literally, what you will find on your plate.
I had touched upon the subject of the South and the people there in my last post, but I didn't elaborate at that point. I thought it would be great to write about it more in-depth later, because I have alot to say, and so this is what today's entry will be about. Not just the South, but mental notes I have made about places all across the country. I will start with the South though, because this was technically the beginning for Jeff and I. We flew to Georgia to pick up our truck in April of this year, and that was the starting point.
I mentioned earlier that everyone calls you "y'all". There's nothing formal about the people here-- the only time you'll see anything close to formal is on Sunday's when everyone comes out in their "Sunday best". The restaurants are crowded with families just coming from church, and Jeff and I love listening to them talk. I remember hearing a little girl-- she couldn't have been more than five-- exclaim to her older sister: "Goodness gracious, I believe we need some apple PAH!" (pie). Hearing a young child speak that way just tickles me pink.
It's very laid-back and easy in the South. People are friendly and life is simple there. I think what Jeff loves most about the South are the Waffle House diners. They seem to be on every corner in every town. Although it's called the Waffle House, their specialty is actually hash browns-- either plain or, as they proudly say: smothered, topped, capped, and/or scattered; which really just means what kind of topping you'd like heaped upon them! I think you have a choice of tomatoes, cheese or chili, or any combination of the above. Jeff always gets his doused in chili. I think it's disgusting but he loves it, and I know if he had his choice he'd eat there three times a day if not more. But more than the food, it's the ambiance of the place. You walk in and you're greeted with enthusiasm, and when you leave you're thanked for coming in. What they say about "Southern Hospitality" is very true.
The most profound memory I have of being in the South was when I stopped at a Food Mart in Louisiana. I was at the counter-- again on a Sunday-- and in walks what I could only describe as my idea of a true Southern Belle. She was tall and dainty at the same time, about eighteen years old, all dressed up for church in a long flowered dress. She had porcelain skin and long hair that was curled on the ends, and the curls were dancing over her shoulders. Not a stitch of make-up and she looked beautiful.
I know Westerners like to poke fun at Southerners... but now that I've been to the South I know better.
The South is a beautiful landscape, but the prettiest place I have seen are the rolling green hills of Pennsylvania. Talk about a postcard coming to life!-- it is stunningly beautiful. A close second to that would be Northern Utah, and this is a place I would like to call home one day. The mountains are truly majestic, old and wise and I wonder what kind of stories they could tell. I had the same feeling when we drove through the Colorado Rockies-- where the mountains are so high trees no longer grow. You can easily feel very small and insignificant in places like that, and you have the constant feeling that you're just a visitor, and that this land belongs to someone (or something) else entirely. I feel honored to be a part of that in any way, even if it's just rolling through in a big rig.
And then there's another favorite place of mine: the desert. I should revise that by saying I like what I have come to call "the incorporated desert". Places like Phoenix, Palm Springs and Las Vegas-- where you have all the scenery but also an air-conditioned building to escape it when the need arises.
We were laid over in Phoenix for a couple of days last month. It was so hot there, the AC in our truck couldn't keep us cool enough, so we got ourselves a hotel room and stretched out. The monsoons were rolling in, and I watched cloud formations and lightning for what seemed hours out of the window. I find that amazing!-- it's 115 degrees and there are clouds and lightning and rain! It's something I never get tired of, but that's "nature". The most beautiful "manmade" sight I enjoyed in the "incorporated" desert was the view of Las Vegas at night.
We were approaching from the north, having driven through mountains and valleys after enjoying a spectacular desert sunset. The sun had long since gone down, and we'd been driving in darkness for some time. I had crawled into my bunk to rest before my leg at 2am, and was sleeping when Jeff called to me to come up to the cab and take a look at THIS!
What a sight it was! Coming around a mountain and there below us is Las Vegas in all it's glory. I have never seen so many lights. It was like Christmas times one thousand. What a pleasure it was to come down out of a mountain and drive into that!!
One of my greatest joys was finally being able to see Mount Shasta, which is in the very north of California. All the years I've lived in that state, I never made it up that far, and to finally see it was just overwhelming for me. We didn't stop there though!-- we were also able to see Mount Ranier, Hood and St Helens as well. I was beginning to feel small and insignificant again...
And so those are the high points, but like anything else in life, there are low points as well. There are some places I absolutely hate to drive. I'm a pretty positive person but even for me, it's hard to find the bright side of having to drive in places like Oklahoma, Arkansas and Nebraska. The cities are okay but the outskirts are flat and seemingly endless. There's nothing to look at, and for truckers, scenery is why we're out here in the first place!
Texas is like that in several places. The thing with Texas is it's so big, it takes something like 20 hours just to drive through it. During that journey you will see some very bizarre landscape, but you also see big beautiful cities and the ocean too-- if you go down far enough.
We had stopped somewhere in the middle of all that, in a small dusty town to get some food. Right behind the little diner was a do-it-yourself car wash, and a man had his HORSE there in one of the stalls, ready for a good scrubbing. A HORSE! We thought that was so funny.
I think a horse in a car wash is a good place to end this post. I've had my say, the horse most certainly had his wash, and we are still in Mississippi preparing to drive the rest of the way to Mobile.
Hoping your day is a happy one!

The New York Traffic Jam (Courtesy of Jeff)

We left West Memphis this afternoon and landed in Jackson Mississippi a few hours later. Halfway to our pick-up point of Mobile Alabama. The drive here was exciting because in between the hazy sunshine we hit some rather dramatic thunderstorms that kept Jeff on his toes. There was a bolt of lightning that hit the ground right next to our truck (on my side of course) and the POP and BOOM was shockingly loud. I was on the phone with Josh at that moment, and let out a yell that I'm sure nearly blew out his poor eardrums. If I hadn't been restrained by the seatbelt I'm sure I would have shot through the roof of the truck. We had a good laugh about it but GEEZ the storms here are crazy!
We found another Flying J to park in and it's pretty decent (and yes Lynore, we had a very nice shower here!). There is a little swamp by us and I could see fish (or something like fish) hopping out of the water and then splatting right back down. Swamps are pretty gross, with thick murky water-- better put-- slime!-- and there's alot of them around here. That said, Mississippi is a lovely state. Lots of green grass and trees, and I never get tired of the way people talk in the South. They have soft, sweet voices and call you "y'all".
But I'm getting away from my New York story. I could go on and on about the South, cause Jeff and I love it here, but New York is a whole world away and someone posted a comment about my blog and reminded me of one of our experiences in the Big Apple.
You know the traffic is bad there, and everyone's in a hurry. The roads are really bad (funny, in the states where the taxes are highest, the roads are the worst) and it's very hard to keep your sanity in situations like that. Jeff always drives in the big cities, and I'm always happy to let him.
So one day we had a run to Jamaica NY, aka JFK International. We had to pick up some air freight at Lufthanza Cargo. You don't need to have been there to know the place is huge, and the cargo road runs in a gigantic circle, with access to about a million different airline cargo docks. We had driven the entire circle and never did see Lufthanza, and now we had a bigger issue to deal with: road signs pointing every direction but backwards.
It reminded me of the Wizard of Oz, when the gang comes to a fork in the road and there's a sign there with ten different arrows, and they stop to ponder which way they should go. But Jeff and I didn't have time to stop and ponder. We had a line of impatient cars behind us already, and as you know, no four wheelers like to get stuck behind big trucks. One of the signs was indicating a 12 foot high overpass ahead, but in the mess of signs we couldn't decipher which direction that overpass would be.
Our truck is nearly fourteen feet high, so a 12" overpass is definitely to be avoided. We made a right turn, thinking the overpass was to the left, and went around a curve and just ahead of us is an overpass marked "12" with another sign warning NO TRUCKS.
Did I forget to mention we were also on a freeway onramp, exiting one of the busiest airports in America? Of course, the signs never told us that.
Jeff slammed on the brakes, let go with a few profanities, and then the horns started honking. Looking in the side mirrors we can see middle fingers popping out of every car window behind us. What did they think, that we were stopping for the thrill of it? There was absolutely no way we could continue without losing the entire top of our truck, but in the eyes of New Yorkers that's just not a good enough reason to stop. And by God, if we weren't going to move, they weren't going to stand for it!
The onramp we were on was single lane with no shoulder. Beyond that was a curb that led up to a grassy median. I watched the line of cars grow bigger, watched the middle fingers increasing in numbers, and the horns were ringing in my ears. Just then, cars started driving up the curb onto the grass and burning rubber past us, fingers still shaking at us out of the windows.
Jeff was beside himself. He felt really stupid for getting us in this predicament, but I didn't blame him and told him he shouldn't either. It's pretty pathetic to have to decipher road signs as you're driving. Since that day we've gotten quite accustomed to road signs telling us one thing and then leading us the opposite direction. It happens a lot more than it should. But there in New York, in the middle of that situation, it was hard for him not to worry. We had cars blasting past us on the grassy median, more lining up behind us, and no idea what to do.
I was ready to get out and spot for him, so he could back the truck up somehow and get off the onramp. Luckily, a cop came up right then and spared me having to address every person in every car behind us. I was pretty impressed with how the cop took complete control of the situation and got us out of there. It's amazing what a few flashing lights (klaxons) and a uniform will do.
I told Jeff later that he caused a major traffic jam in New York, and had a good reason to do it, and he should be very proud. It's something to tell the grandkids about one day! Hell, I should have taken pictures of the angry mob! I'd at least have a cool picture to post here then! Wish I would have thought of it, but at the time we certainly had other things on our mind.
Next time, I'll be ready!

Truck Stops-- A Love-Hate Relationship

We are sitting at a truck stop in West Memphis, Arkansas-- Day Two. The truck stop is a pit and come to think of it, so is the town. I already knew about West Memphis after watching a documentary on HBO about a triple homicide that had taken place here. It gave me the creeps then, and being here live and in person makes it even worse.
It wouldn't be so bad if the truck stop was at least clean and cool and comfortable; but Jeff and I have learned over a short amount of time that the nice ones are few and far between. When we do find a nice one we store it in our memory banks and return the next time we're in town. We'll be headed to Atlanta again this weekend, and there are no nice ones there. We can deadhead about 100 miles south though, and there's a pretty decent TA there. Hopefully we won't have time to layover-- Atlanta is a great place to get loads.
Back to truck stops. They play a very integral part in a truck driver's life. They can be a beacon in the night for a driver who's tired and wants to rest, or maybe wants some food, or needs a shower.
I've seen a few drivers out there who are more interested in rest and food than a good shower, but I'm not speaking for them. For me, the shower usually comes before anything else. People don't realize what a luxury a nice clean shower can be until they've been on the road. When I was still home, I showered every morning, and then took a bubble bath every night. I didn't know how I was going to live without this daily luxury.
But showers can be a pain if they're dirty to begin with, as is often the case out here. It's even worse when you pay for a dirty one. The TA truck stops give out a free shower coupon if you buy 50 gallons of fuel. Sounds like a bargain-- especially when they cost $9 without a fuel purchase! But it's not always such a great deal-- if the shower's not clean or, another big complaint of mine, there is no ventilation in the shower room.
We started rating the TA's around the country. So far at least 50% of them get black marks.
Even though the showers were free, we were tired of taking showers and still feeling grimy.
After awhile we decided to break one of Jeff's firmest rules: we were going to try a Flying J. We had boycotted them since starting this job, because we heard from more than one trucker that Flying J had stopped flying the American flag once it had been bought out by Middle Easterners. There were some times we didn't have a choice as far as a place to layover, but we steadfastly refused to give them our money. There finally came a time when we decided to pay for a shower there, and were quite astonished to see how nice they were. We were on a roll for awhile-- the first five or so were spotless and very impressive. But our luck had to run out sooner or later I suppose. The last three we've been to have been awful.
And this is the quandry of many truckers out there, I would imagine. Hoping the city you're headed to has a decent truck stop. I'm beginning to think there is no such thing. If it's not a dirty shower or terrible food, it's the way they nickel and dime you to death. Some places even charge you to park overnight!-- and those are the very places that are the absolute worst.
Such is life on the road. It can be a blast, but it can also be frustrating as well.

Josh and the Trainee Nightmare

Before I started in the expediting industry, I had done alot of research. The Internet is wonderful in that it provides so many different resources for information. There are some great trucker's sites I visit-- with forums where you can post messages and get plenty of answers. I spent countless hours on these sites, asking questions and learning about every aspect of the industry that I could.
The one issue I just couldn't get past with regards to signing on with a national carrier-- and it was a big one-- was knowing that in order to become a driver with a large company, I would have to go out for 6-8 weeks with a trainer to learn every aspect possible about life on the road and how to resolve problems. The thought of living with a stranger for weeks on end was daunting. As a woman, it presented a whole other scope of issues because there was a good chance my trainer would be a man. Good trainers are hard to come by, and female ones were especially scarce.
I was considering signing on with Werner. You've probably seen their trucks out there on the highways across America. Big blue trucks. The company has been around for a long time. The starting pay was decent (and believe me, when I say "decent" I mean they were probably paying just pennies more per mile than other companies). I had resigned myself to the fact that I would earn peanuts my first year, but after that, doors would open all around me and I could get a job anywhere I wished. Experience goes a long way in this business.
I just couldn't get past that one little nagging issue: driving for 6-8 weeks with a stranger.
It was about this time that I discovered expediting, and everything changed for me. I didn't have to deal with trainers and the whole resulting headache. Because of my previous experience driving straight trucks and my recent training with tractor-trailers, many companies were ready to hire me on. While Jeff and I were going through the whole application process with our current company, I continued to peruse the trucking sites, and there is where I encountered Josh.
He had posted a thread that had pissed off a bunch of people. He couldn't care less; he spoke his mind there and I happened to agree with what he was saying. I learned he was a dog lover, and I am too, so we started communicating by email about dogs and life etc. His letters were very eloquent and colorful, and it wasn't long before we were chatting by phone.
He was, at that time, preparing to make a big career move and was set to attend trucking school, and then sign on with Werner for their training. We decided to keep in touch, because I was very interested to know how his experience went; I always believe in having a "Plan B" just in case things don't work out in any particular venture. He got through school, and about the time Jeff and I were ready to leave for the road, Josh was heading out for his training.
That was the beginning of twelve weeks of absolute hell for Josh. He went through four trainers total; each one worse than the last. They were bossy, demanding, and childish in their behavior, and when he spoke to other trainees, was not surprised to find out most of them had had the same experiences. Josh made every effort to stick it out, laying over in hotels while his trainers took their home time, but after weeks of misery the stress caught up with him, and he got off the truck for good.
I'm sorry for what he went through, but glad we kept in touch because now I know I will never sign on with Werner. I'm sure there are those who will say their training went well, but I've heard enough in my time with Josh that the chances of that are real slim. And people wonder why the turnover rate in the trucking industry is so high? Why not start with the trainers? What about the low wages they pay their first-year employees? What about the fact that the dispatchers are rude and evil people? Life on the road is hard enough without having to deal with that BS. You're away from family and friends, and the only people you deal with on a day to day basis are total assholes.
Things turned out well for Josh though. I sent him to the expediting website, and with the driving experience he gained with Werner he was able to qualify for my company and now drives a truck in the same industry I am! The money out here is ten times better as well.
I won't say every day is a bed of roses-- as with any company you're going to deal with some headaches-- but those are few and far between. Josh can certainly appreciate that. He has thanked me many times for steering him in my direction.
We still have yet to meet in person, but we speak daily by phone and figure that one of these days, we'll end up in the same city and can have a nice dinner and a few good laughs.
I love happy endings! :)

The Tulsa Welcoming Committee

We were hauling pharmaceuticals from New Mexico to Kentucky, with our reefer (refrigerated unit) set to 5 degrees. As a team, Jeff and I like to drive five hours on, and then five off, and I was nearing the end of a five hour leg when we rolled into Tulsa. I had just hung up with my sister back in California, Jeff was coming out of the sleeper and I was lamenting over yet another bridge to cross-- this time over the Arkansas River. Silly me!-- the bridge wasn't that bad, at least not until I got over it.
I saw flashing klaxons behind me (my new favorite word-- I never knew that was the correct name of the colored lights on police cars-- thanks for the vocabulary lesson, Jeff!). I assumed the cop wanted me to get over so he could pass, but when he followed me into the next lane I was dumbfounded. "He wants to pull ME over?!" My mind was flashing through possible scenarios to explain such an occasion: maybe we have a light out. Did the registration expire and we didn't realize it? Did our back door fly open and spill ice chips all over the freeway?!
The cop did not look pleased when I finally stopped the truck and rolled down my window. The question on my face was apparent but he ignored it and demanded to see all my paperwork. I knew to give him my license and medical card (required for all commercial drivers) but what other paperwork could he want?
I was shocked and dismayed at the time; it was obvious I had done something wrong. My actions had gotten me stopped-- not a burned out tail light. But what had I done? I asked him again and he told me curtly that he had clocked me going nine miles over the posted speed limit.
Speeding?! ME?! Jeff has been getting on me for driving too slow... and now I'm stopped for speeding. It seemed outlandish. There had to be some mistake. I'm sure this is what everyone thinks when they get pulled over-- even the ones who know they were doing wrong.
But I am like the Mrs. Cleaver of truck drivers. The older I get, the more cautious I become-- especially in a big truck. I chose to err on the side of caution, always.
The officer once again requested my paperwork. He didn't seem pleased at the blank stare I gave him, but I honestly didn't know what other paperwork he needed. May I re-iterate once again that I never get stopped by police. I had no idea what he wanted, other than registration and driver logs.
Driver logs... we STILL trying to figure those out. Just one more government regulation meant to "regulate" but somehow manages to totally confuse us. I was scared to death my log would be found out of compliance, and I'd be slammed with a hefty fine. It would be worse than a speeding ticket! Jeff was grumbling and I could see he was very agitated, but all I wanted to do was cry. I obediently followed the officer to his car, sat down inside and went over the paperwork.
He was still not at all pleasant or even talkative. Instead he quietly looked over my log, pointed out a mistake and sent me back to my truck to get my notes and fill it out correctly. While I was gone, everything changed. I'm sure he scanned my license and saw that I was indeed Mrs. Cleaver, not just a reasonable facsimile, and that my log violation was a simple mistake that could be easily corrected. He was much nicer when I returned to his car, where he wrote me out a warning and then asked Jeff and I about life on the road, and if we'd ever driven through the Rockies (coincidentally, the run before this, we had!). More talk about tornados, California living and my biggest question: was I really speeding?
He said that when I crossed the bridge and went down an incline, the truck speeded up. That made sense-- I was pulling 50,000 pounds at the time. The problem he had with that was that I didn't brake when I got to the bottom of the hill.
It was a fluke. It had to be, and I told him so. He sent me happily on my way, imploring me to be careful out there.
I AM careful! I'm the Mrs. Cleaver of truck drivers!