A February thaw. It feels like an early spring. I spoke to the birds when I let the cat out. They had nothing to say to me. A couple thrushes did cock their heads to listen to my pathetic whistle. The dawn multitude had much to say to each other though. I'm so glad that I live up here on this ridge top with the forest at my door.
I wrote that last weekend. I apologize for my reticence. Some of you may have seen some drunken scribbles here as I search for an identity other than as a driver that I quickly (oops, one was up for a week) deleted. More on that later, perhaps, but guess what! I'm a driver! Here's my latest misadventure:
The name of this blog is apt. I was sent over the road last week. It was a nightmare. I'm so glad that I only have to fight for a space to park my truck, so that I can sleep, occasionally. And the food...
Joplin Missouri was my terminus. On the way I saw the Arch, my favorite piece of Public Work. An early co-driver of mine once asked, “What's it good for?”
“Would you live in a world without Art?” I asked in reply.
I have spoken before about the many faces of the Arch I have seen: without apparent foundation, or stainless steel edged; but that's all lost in the archive. Unfortunately traffic was tricky both as I crossed the Mississippi, and later when I passed beneath the Arch itself, going back northwest after my first delivery. I didn't have the chance to appreciate it. I stole a few glances, and its reflection in the glass of the downtown skyscrapers surprised me once.
Coming home on I 255, however, I watched the Arch with the City behind it in minute parallax as I traversed the abandoned canal and viable train yards. It's undeniable; it's there; the Gateway.
Is this job really so bad, is it really a nightmare?
I thought my luck was changing when I got a back haul that picked up in Webb City, just north of Joplin, instead of 90 miles further west in Coffeeville Kansas, like the last time I did this run. I pulled into the Flying J on my way to the pick up so that I could clean out the trailer and met gridlock. I never got past the entry and ended up doing a U turn in the drive 20 minutes later.
I was lucky. If I'd gotten into the lot how long would it have taken me to get back out again? And it didn't matter that my trailer was dirty in the end.
Once backed into the dock I had to laugh, I mean really. After getting my empty weight the scale operator told me that the docks were on the opposite corner of the building. He turned to confer with someone then said, “The easy way to do it is to go up 'the trail' along that side of the building, but it's blocked right now. You'll have to go that way and take a left, turn right and straighten out, then back in.” Fair enough.
I headed up “that way” and looked down the first lane to the left. It looked like it might have been possible to get my rig through there except the piles of scrap metal were overflowing into the road so I went further up. I stopped. There was no right to make after the next turn to get straightened out; end of the line. So there I was traipsing through the mud, in the rain, trying to figure out how the hell I was going to get to the docks. A garbage truck driver stopped and gave me some moral support and I laughed it off but thought, “Dude, you drive a straight truck.”
I ended up doing an S back. The sight side part was easy, wide open, but it narrowed to a bottleneck in the blind side. Fortunately the tire tracks in the mud were easy to follow even in my little convex mirrors. I lined up next to another trailer parked there, then got out to give the dock workers my load information. There was nobody around. I looked to check how I was situated to the dock and...what the hell? That one trailer was parked against the only part of the bay that was parallel to the building, the rest of the docks were set at an angle. It was an angle that was impossible to back straight into because of the piles of scrap aluminum. All I can say is that I'm glad I'm a veteran driver or I might have had trouble there.
It was a heavy load and was immediately apparent that I had a tire low on air. “Great, how long is this going to delay me?” I thought, “I just want to go home.” I got out my air hose that hooks to the inboard compressor via the trailer emergency brake line to air up the flat temporarily, so that I could get out of there. My mistake then was in checking the pressure of the other tires. All eight of those trailer tires were low! I admit; like 99% of my compatriots I merely thump the tires and only get out the gauge when I detect trouble. Usually the loads I deal with aren't heavy enough to worry about it but this one was. So I spent an hour there kneeling in the mud, airing up my tires. Sometimes the angels do smile on us though. I don't know why those tires were all so low, but the pressure held and I never had to go into the shop. One more night on the road and I was headed for home!
I was feeling pretty good Friday, on my way back. The load I was hauling didn't deliver until Monday but I was supposed to try and deliver that day. Then my fleet manager sent me a message that said never mind. He must have called ahead to arrange it and been told no go. All I had to do was drop the trailer on the yard on the north side of Indy. I still had to shuttle the Chicago load to the other side of the building in Plainfield but that was supposed to be ready for me by the time I'd get there. The weekend was just ahead. As I rolled into Indiana listening to WISU a fresh snow delineated the branches of the hardwoods. Things were looking OK. I'd forgotten all of my trials and tribulations. Life wasn't so bad.
Then there was an injury accident that had southbound 465 shut down. I jumped off at Crawfordsville Road and took Lyndhurst south. Lyndhurst is a big wide road both up north and further down. I didn't know, however, that it turns into a two lane residential street in between, with lots of school bus stops! I finally made it to Washington street, my destination but then had to ask, “Am I dyslexic, or what?” The accident was at Sam Jones. I was thinking Washington St. was below Sam Jones, but it's not, it's above it. Oops. With everyone else trying to get around the accident too Washington St. was a mess so I jumped on 465 going back north to Rockville road and followed that all the way out to 267, stop light after stop light.
I don't know if I could have done better but it ended up taking me an extra hour in traffic. I was lucky though, because when I got there the Chicago load still wasn't ready yet. That's an hour I would have had to spend reading or something.
I made it home though, I survived. It could have been a lot worse. So is this job a nightmare, is it hell? Naw, it's all in a day's work.
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