cutting teeth

Saturday, November 12^th, 2011

With every beginning comes and end. This is the natural order of things, and a law that cannot be violated. In many ways, this week is a sort of beginning for me, just as the old self fades away. Like a gnarled forest behemoth, living over a span of centuries, the end may linger in varying stages of progression. The Earth herself moves in and infinite precession of equinoxes, hurtling through space around the local star, eventually returning to the same place in the galaxy after 240 million years. Like all cycles, while they may seem the same, they are in different spaces and times always. Thus, everything is always new and ever-renewed. Change is a Mandate.

On the human scale, one of the more notable changes is that of the seasons. Today, I got to drive through my first snow storm. Seeing as I was traveling East from Tacoma, I was doing my all to avoid getting caught in Snoqualmie Pass. For those who do not know of this place, I will give a description. Nestled in the northen Cascades, this pass is roughly the same latitude as Seattle (47*24'36”N precisely) and about 3022 feet above sea level. It is a craggy place, through which interstate 90 winds in sinuous curves along faces of blasted rock. Upon reaching the peak, there is a ski resort (of course!) and a long stretch of highway that  narrows from 5 to 2 lanes after the climb. Thankfully, there is some nice new grooved concrete pavement on the east-bound side replacing what may have been the deteriorating original work from the first construction. The pass itself goes for a number of miles and ends in what is known as “Stampede Pass,” presumably because a bunch of cattle there freaked out about something once upon a time ago. The long and short of it is that it sucks to get caught in the snow up there, as there are precious few plows to maintain the roads, and passing through usually requires putting chains on the tires (think cold wet hands on metal under a truck getting wetter and colder).

      That said, I drove through a wet pass, but with bare pavement. It had snowed last night, and the chain laws were in place when I woke up for no reason at 2 a.m. Happily, all restrictions were lifted by the time I departed Tacoma. So, smooth sailing right? Almost. About an hour outside of Spokane, I ran into the snow. For a while the road was just wet, but then it went to two lanes of tire tracks (called “wipes” technically). Then down to just the granny lane being only wipes. Being the safe driver I am, I slowed to 55, and a line of cars decided behind me was a good bet. The snow was blowing something fierce now, and starting to cake on my windshield. Fortunately, it was only 30 degrees out (most trucks have an outside thermometer onboard), so the snow didn't start freezing to my wipers. This has happened before; the procedure for cleaning them off is to pull over and slap them against the windshield, thus breaking the ice and freeing your vision. The proper procedure is dangerous, costs time, and... well... lame. Some people will just blast the defroster on the highest, hottest setting hoping the heat will melt the ice. I did this today to melt the snow. It does not melt ice. What I've done in the past is to roll down the window, reach around the outside of the truck and grab the wiper as it makes a pass and pull it away from the windshield before it goes back to the resting position. That will usually work, although it may take a few tries and leaning a bit forward out of the seat.

      To coincide with the changing of the weather, I've been given a different truck. (remind me to count the chains and check them soon).  This one has a mere 77,000 miles and change on it, so it is still quite new. Despite this, there are some quirks already. This truck is not governed at 60 mph, rather at 64. I suspect that the previous owner was in the reefer fleet, which my company lets run a bit faster than the rest. Can't have all that hamburger get warm! The other strange quirk is that the steering wheel is a bit off. I've found it a touch disconcerting that I cannot drive straight with the wheel on an even keel. Other than those two bits, this tractor is in top shape and really clean, which is a VERY fortunate event in the trucking world. On my rides from Spokane to Clackamas via Pacific, I heard all sorts of horror stories about people rescuing abandoned trucks, littered with trash. One story involved “Crusty Bill.” This was really his nickname. He would use his truck floor as an ashtray. Bits of desiccated food, like pizza crusts and french fries, were strewn about the interior. Other stories involved piles of regular garbage. One story involved 7 small dogs and their excrement. Yessir. Trucking is not for the faint of heart, as you never know what you'll get. One thing is for certain though, whatever it is, it will change.