Saturday, October 27, 2012

Perfect Imperfections

 

So why, if I wrote that a week ago didn't I post it?

Because I'd intended to add to it, to say so much more.

So why, if I have so much to say can't I think of anything when the time comes?

Possibly a good question...

OK, here's one: a basic paradox of trucking. The driver is but a link, either of materials or of finished goods, for other industries which operate on their own schedules, and even if it's not "just in time freight" then the company that she drives for needs the truck free to reload. So it's a heavily time constrained business. The driver is always in a hurry. Yet to drive a Big Rig safely one cannot be in a hurry. Every action must be executed slowly and deliberately, ready at any moment to change course drastically, all avenues fully surveyed.

Slow down to hurry up.

But wait, I'd posted, but I can't leave it there...When I'd first complained was premature. Sure the weather had been shitty and leaves were down but there was still plenty of fire burning on the hillsides. In fact I'd crossed the White River on the way to Indy and they didn't seem to have had the winds we did; the trees still cloaked in all their flaming glory.

Not so now. Not only is peak long gone but most of the leaves have fallen. Embers still burn in hollow and on hillside alike, but drabness claims the day. Soon there will be only the architectural interplay of branches to confound and amaze.

When I started this gig driving a big rig down country lanes after limestone it was nearly summer, the trees in full leaf. As usual when the leaves fall once hidden things become obvious. There are old stone holes all over the place, and I'm just talking what can be seen from the road. And piles of waste stone beside them, or near to one that can't be seen, surely.

How do they know where the good stone is? Why do I sometimes load up at one quarry only to carry the rock to another? In the depths of time how can an articulated fossil still survive what has become an otherwise blank white expanse of sedimentary rock?

I have one here, I hold it as we speak. Whilst loading a block one day I saw something glitter. On the bed of the truck already I investigated and found a perfect imperfection.

 

Friday, October 26, 2012

Gray Blues

 

Grey overcast, wet drizzly, cold miserable day today. My Gortex® lined boots have sprung leaks, both of them, after ten years. A wind came through and stripped many of the leaves off the trees; skeletons along the roads and on the hillsides. Darkness draws nigh, coming earlier of an evening and staying latter each morning.

Like a crossfire hurricane, but it's all right now; there's a fire in the hearth.

I wrote that about a week ago. I've gotten out of the habit of writing, threatening to renew it, but haven't. Makes a great segue though, since to day was also wet and miserable. In between nothing but globally warmed clear skies. I was back in the truck without AC, and needed it. Damn the luck.

So now that I'm live I can't think of a thing to say. I'm sure we're doomed, but my son in law is interested in urban farming, which might be a start. I hope the microchip survives, but that takes a lot energy to make and run. Wha'dya think, do we have it in us to survive?

Yeah you, I'm talking to you.

 

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Fire on the Mountain

 

There are worse things than driving around Southern Indiana in the autumn. Like, I could be driving to Indy every day and leaving thence to points unknown, but probably not beautiful Southern Indiana, at least not as regularly as now. No, Southern Indiana is a jewel at any time of year, but especially in the fall. I picked up a load going to Massachusetts today and the shipper said, "I bet you wish you could take this load up there yourself." Why, because of New England in the autumn? They got nothin' on us! He was being ironic.

So yes, the fall is coming on strong. Everyone said that the colors weren't going to be as good this year because of the drought last summer. Everyone was wrong. The colors are sublime, and they are a stretch from peak yet. Perhaps they started a little early, and perhaps they're changing quickly, or perhaps we're just looking for some sign of that drought? In any case it's gorgeous in the hills these days.

And yes, I'm still doing that flatbed gig out of Bloomington. Like I keep saying: the pay is lousy, without benefits, the work is harder than working with a van trailer, dirtier by far than hauling a van, and the equipment sucks; but at least it's local. I've been there, done that; commuting to Indianapolis. I could do it again if I had to but my memories of the experience are not fond. In fact it was a blight on my spirit, perhaps even more so than being over the road. Recurring nightmare indeed.

Speaking of the equipment, do you remember when I was driving around last summer without air conditioning? Someone joked that I'd get a truck without heat next. I didn't think that was possible with all of the heat generated by the engine but yes, you guessed it, I had a truck without heat the other morning. Oh the trials and tribulations!