New tricks for an old fat dog. And a visit from a dead friend

Monday, January 16^th, 2012

      So, it seems that my company is turning over a new leaf. I suppose even the giants have to change at some point, of fall behind the more nimble companies. Allow me to elaborate.

      I made my delivery today with all sorts of extra time. I wanted to beat the traffic, and I beat the heck out of it, to the tune of 1 and ½ hours early. I planned some extra time for traffic (an extra 90 minutes... L.A. gets bad at rush hours) that it turns out I did not need. Then again, it is hard to say. I am of the opinion that if I had left later I would have taken longer and run the risk of missing the appointment time. In the end, I don't suppose it mattered anyway. I sat at the dock for a good 40 minutes before they even started to unload me. So I took another cat nap. And played some more banjo.

      Returning to the Fontana terminal, I was blessed with the chance to park in a space with an adjacent space open. Life is good, since that makes the backing a no-brainer. It may sound like I'm anemic or something, but I took another light nap and had some mild day dreams about something or other, then got off my butt to scan in the paperwork (so I can get paid). After the scan, I went to the dispatch window to staple the papers together. (Gripping!) While I was there, I figured that I would ask the lady how far behind they are for loads. You see, since SoCal is soft on freight and heavy on trucks, there is a bit of a waiting list for loads out of town. The list was 2 days deep. More precisely, “that is what they are shooting for,” was the response I got. So, back out to the truck for a real nap.

      I awoke to a text message. There is that “funky” ring tone you can set on my phone, and that is my text alert. Not very soothing, but it gets the job done. Turns out my next load (so early?) was a deadhead order to North Las Vegas. As much as I wish it had something to do with Jerry Garcia and his fun time pals, deadheading is simply driving someplace with an empty trailer. I also understand that dead-heading as a verb refers to the practice of cutting spent flower heads off their stalks in order to compel the plant to produce more blooms. Obviously, driving a few hours is in no way related to lopping off some flower's spent reproductive organs, but it sure is more fun to zoom up the hills at whatever speed you choose! Normally, Swift would have just let me sit for a few days in Fontana. I guess they really do want to keep the wheels moving. Yaa for change!

      North of Fontana on I-15 is a beautiful place. A few cities punctuate the otherwise desolate Mojave Desert. Joshua trees are quite a beautiful sight to behold. Pinon pines occupy lower elevation where the Joshua tree will not grow, along with any number of smaller shrubs. Barren, craggy eroded mountain sides border the landscape, a testament to the region's aridity. In some fantasy, I would strand myself out here just to prove my mettle, but I'm glad it is only a fantasy. I think I'd die withing a couple of days left to my own devices in all honesty. I grew up wanting to live out in nature in the woods, off the land. To be sure, Upstate New York is a very far cry from the Mojave.

      So for now, I will enjoy the desert night a few miles north of Vegas proper. There are less lights out here, so hopefully I can see some stars. Who knows where tomorrow will bring me? Enjoy what you have today! 

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Farms, Friends and Fiends

Sunday, January 15^th, 2012

      Well, I made it. There were actually a few spaces to choose from at the Fontana terminal, which was a bit of a surprise. I suppose that I could have stopped the truck earlier and saved myself the aggravation of driving through Metro L.A. today, but I figure that I'd have to deal with it at some point. The terminal here is rather shiny and new. The last time I was down this way was sometime in early '07 and back then it was under all sorts of construction. They had those mobile trailer thingies you'd see at job sites; these were the drivers's lounge, bathrooms and showers. A bit nasty. I'm glad to see that it has come along, although the lot is smaller than I recall. On to the day.

      For a second, I had forgotten where I started at. Apparently, Lathrop is not that memorable of a terminal. I awoke before dawn. I put my shoes on. I went into the terminal for some coffee, but the machine would not take coins for whatever reason. Bleary-eyed I pressed on, figuring that some coffee would be waiting for me down the road. It was about an hour or so away, but I got some. Just writing this simple blog makes me realize how tired I am. I suppose that I've not been getting enough sleep of late.

      After I had some coffee, I found it much easier to appreciate and love the rest of the world. Maybe a little bit harsh, but that is how I was feeling this morning. Driving through the San Joaquin Valley is a fairly mixed bag. I'm glad for the comparative flatness, since that makes the drive easy. If you're as into farms as I am, (but not more) then it can be quite a fascinating drive. As a general rule, I abhor mono-cropping. That said, the rows and rows of staked up tress and grape vines can be rather mesmerizing. If you look at them the right way, you can see what appears to be a radial burst of clear spaces between the rows, some more apparent than others, some closer, some farther. This may be the only aspect of mono cropping I enjoy. Seriously.

      Along with large tracts of mono-cultures, there are some other man-made features to break up the monotony of the drive. There are a large number of concrete canals to please the eye, the stillness of the water surface reflecting the lifeless concrete into the heavens. There are a disturbing number of political signs. In particular, I saw this one sign repeatedly, “CONGRESS CREATED DUSTBOWL,” along some plowed, unplanted fields. This tells me a few things. 1) Whoever is posting these signs seems to blame congress for plowing up that field and leaving it fallow. 2) It was more profitable to collect a subsidy from congress than to plant the field. 3) Whoever is posting those same signs along the highway has a shitload of land in the valley and probably a good bit of money. 4) The posting party wants us to blame Democrats for the actions leaving the fields fallow. I am a bit flummoxed. Granted, I do not understand how agricultural subsidies work, and if I had an internet connection here, I would look that up right now. Ah well. I'm not going to change anyone's mind by logic, that's for sure.

      Not too far from the South end of the valley came, in my opinion, the highlight. There is a natural swamp area, which I am guessing is some form of protected wetland. I saw a roadrunner perched upon a fence post. A flock of grebes wattled in unison from the water under the fence to the highway side for some forage. A crane stood patiently waiting for something stupid to swim close enough. Raptors perched in high tree limbs, again waiting for something stupid to stop moving long enough. I saw a family of rabbits browsing by the roadside. For lack of more precise identification, a pack of ground squirrels foraged as well. Beautiful stuff.

      Coming into L.A. metro is always an adventure. Even on Sunday, the people here drive like they are not even remotely risk averse. I understand that in California, the driver coming onto the highway has the right of way (correct me if I am wrong) but I would certainly advise looking. If I had a dollar for the number of multiple lane changes I saw today alone, I'd buy something nice. Well, I'd probably save it, but you get the idea. There was a bit of a close call involving an on-ramp for which I was at fault. I decided that it would be a good idea to be in the far right lane instead of the second lane over. So I started merging. Looking back in my mirror, I saw nothing, I was almost done changing lanes. I looked back again and suddenly there was this car driving on the shoulder that I didn't see the first time I looked. That was a bit of a shock, and a touch hard to swallow. I stayed away from the granny lane after that, all the way back to the terminal. I'd get into the how tight the lot is here, but I am just going to be grateful for finding a space, and the idea of a shower tomorrow.

False Start

Thursday, January 12^th, 2012

     Well. This was rather unexpected. I am still sitting at the terminal in Sumner. Well to be fair, I'm in the truck where I can actually concentrate. The lounge is centered around a television usually depicting images of graphic violence so common in our culture these days. That aside, I have not moved my truck today. Well, maybe I moved it just a little.

      I started the day figuring that I would get a plan eventually, meaning that I slept until I felt it was time to get up. Nowadays that is sometime around 0730. I was shooting for 0600, but that fell by the wayside. I spent some time in the drivers' lounge hanging out in general, more time on the banjo and some time online. It just so happened that a guy I went to orientation with had returned for a bit and we got to catch up a bit, so that was cool. Later in the morning, I got to flappin' my gums about getting out of there and joked that I would team with this dude when I saw that I had gotten a text message. You see, I opted in for this feature with which Swift will text a pre-plan to your phone. This saves me the hassle of having to go out to my truck every half hour, crank the engine and wait for the fancy qual-com to boot up. Seriously, it takes 5 minutes for it to fully wake up from sleep mode. This feature is one of the great things about Swift.

      Getting back to my truck, I look a bit closer at the plan. I would be hauling returned appliances from Sumner, WA over to Greensville, OH. I have no freakin' clue where Greensville is, but I do know that Swift would pay me for 2230 miles, which is pretty sweet for this time of year. Seeing as it delivered on Monday, I would be running pretty hard, but still have time left over for a load after that. Now, when I say “for this time of year,” it is common knowledge in the trucking industry (or maybe any manufacturing industry, who knows?) that things slow down after the holidays end. The first quarter is almost invariably poor for freight, or “soft” to use the industry parlance. Especially in the Pacific Northwest. Any chance to get out of here and towards the East Coast is always welcome. Needless to say, I'm pretty jazzed about the idea of this load.

      I hop in the truck, fire up the engine and patrol the yard, seeing as the trailer is here someplace. I make the first sweep. Maybe I missed the trailer. I make the second sweep. Nope. I park the truck, then get out and walk up and down the 4 rows of trailers. Not a single one matches the number I have on my plan. Befuddled, I walk into the office to see what is going on. After some searching, I am told that this particular trailer is some place in Montana. Later, I am told that it is a rail container sitting here in the Sumner yard. So I check again. Nobody has any clue about what is going on with this trailer. My DM is working his butt off trying to get things worked out because it is an awesome run. Seriously, this guy rocks.

      So I play some more banjo. It feels like I am getting used to it again. I go back inside and hang out by my DM's cubicle. I certainly appreciate the open door policy here. It wasn't like this at Gordon, or at the Syracuse terminal for that matter. I help out around the office in the limited capacity that I can and wait some more for any kind of information. Finally, the customer service representative (CSR henceforth in all entries) logs off and goes home. That is to say, the name disappeared from my DM's screen, and he/she does not work in the Sumner office. The CSR's here are a pack of hilarious women who seem to be laughing as much as working. That also rocks.

      In the end, nothing can be done until the CSR who created this load comes in tomorrow. Leaving me hanging for the night. If I hadn't driven for Swift before, I'd wonder how often stuff like this happens. Either way, I get another day to acclimate, but more importantly another excellent rest.

Here I go, again on my own, probably down some roads I already know.

     After a longish hiatus, I am behind the wheel once again.  Well, not at the moment, as that would be somewhat life threatening.  Technicalities aside, I am again employed to haul truck loads of shit across the country to random destinations.  By shit I mean whatever they tell me to haul, which is not likely to include 'shit' proper because that is HazMat class 8 (Biohazard)

      Right now, I am sitting in the Swift terminal in Sumner, WA getting back into the feel of trucking.  Funny that it takes a scant 3 weeks for the lifestyle to dissipate.  I could reflect upon that as a tribute to my flexibility in life and situations.  Alternatively, I can choose to see it as a fairly clear sign that I'm ready for a new lifestyle.  Even better, I could fuse the two points of view and find something perhaps closer to the truth.

      I've yet to get my truck in any kind of livable shape.  Today started fairly early to take public transit all the way from Burlington, WA to Sumner via Tacoma.  There are always a ton of little details to get in order before getting out on the road at a new company.  Setting up direct deposit, enrolling in benefits, taking whatever silly training courses I remember them asking me to take, forgetting what the other two are or where to find them in the byzantine depth of the terminal drivers' kiosks; all sorts of little things.  My truck is a somewhat older International.  When I say older, I mean in the ballpark of 403k miles.  Odds are, if I kept going with this truck for an extended period, say the rest of the year, I would end up getting a new one with maybe 56 miles on it.  I've had one that young before.  Still smells like plasticizers.

      Anyway, the truck should be running just fine, as by now they've gotten all of the kinks out of the system.  I would say that this is my first International, but that would not be entirely correct.  I drove an older one back in 2006 for a flatbed company.  Granted, I only stayed there for 3 days but I still count the experience, if only because Swift does.  That truck in 2006 had a whopping 725,000 miles on it.  It was an International Eagle.  For those who have no idea what I am talking about (probably everyone) I'll give  a brief exposition.

      The International Eagle is a boxy affair with little eye for design.  The interior is roomy but it does not have a second bunk.  Once inside, you can get some fresh air by sliding the tiny little rectangular windows at the top of the cab.  The side walls are endowed with little flaps that can be thrust open to stream air in or out of the bunk, or even across if you are clever with your mashing.  If you are ever on the road, you may hear of these Eagles being referred to as, "the mobile home of trucks," and not in a good way.

     The truck I am in is a bit better designed, but storage space is at a premium.  It lacks the ubiquitous towers found in Volvos and Freightliners.  Fortunately, it is graced with a second bunk upon which I can sorts all sorts of crap.  The styling, however is sleeker and a bit more ergonomic.  Additionally, it is even quieter than anything I have ever driven.  To be fair, I've not yet been under a load going up a hill with this vehicle.  My only experience with this truck to date has been to drive it around the yard checking the gears, brakes and lights.  To report, the transmission is low and loose, the cltuch rides somewhere in the middle with a middling pressure, the brakes are high and soft (but effective) and the fuel pedal is responsive enough (so far).  That said, I'm glad to have a truck for now.

       We'll see how long that lasts.  For now I am beat and I've got to make the bed still.  Maybe even start organizing things.