The Big Apple to The Deep South & Beyond

Hard to believe that September has come and gone and we’re now well into October. Where has all the time gone? And hey! What about summer? Where’d that go? There’s so many stories I could tell, from my experiences of the last three months since going solo -- and even a few before then, but so little time to write them all down and my access to the ‘net has been limited. I’ve gone through a month-long dry spell lately but hope to “catch up” ... just a bit anyway with this latest entry that’s beyond overdue.

I’m back in Sparks, Nevada after an all-night trip Friday night from Fontana, Ca. to Reno. It was a long drive across the Mohave Desert and northward between the Sierra Nevada Mountains to the west with Death Valley to the east. Most of the 460 mile trip was along the two lanes of U.S. Highway 395. Only some phone calls, the occasional headlights of other cars, small-town lights in the distance, and a stop or two along the deserted road, to admire a very dark sky and it’s millions of stars, helped break up the monotony.

I arrived at 5:30 Saturday morning dropping my loaded trailer at the J.C. Penney Distribution Center with nearly 13,000 pounds of Penney’s catalogs on board. An hour later I was at the now familiar Petro Truck Stop adjoining Swift’s Sparks terminal. This is the third time I’ve been to Sparks and it’s starting to feel a little like “home.” So it is, the life of a long-haul trucker.

Just six days before I was in Grand Rapids, Michigan where I picked up a 24,600 pound load of Cherrios Oak Clusters. Then it was a five day, 2200 mile trip across nine states with delivery at a warehouse in Fontana, California for General Mills. My first night of the trip was a week ago today. After traveling 671 miles, I spent the evening along Interstate 80 in Council Bluffs, Iowa just across the Missouri River from Omaha. Monday night, some 559 miles later, I met my Swift Academy roommate Thomas at our Denver, Colorado terminal. A buffet dinner at a nearby truck stop and sharing “war stories” of our days on the road consumed our time well into the night. Another trucker friend Ken, that I met five nights earlier, also stopped in for a visit. We’d met while the both of us were in the midst of the same three interconnected trips. The company had the two of us on a wild-goose chase searching for empty container trailers somewhere in Indianapolis. We would end up traveling together on a return trip to Ohio, where we traded our empties for loaded containers. Then the two of us traveled in tandem most of the distance to a rail yard in Chicago for the drop. Eventually those same trailers and their goods would find themselves in Sacramento.

Early the next day on Tuesday, I left behind my friends for the next leg of the trip some 589 miles down Interstates 70 and 15. I stopped finally in Cedar City, Utah late that afternoon. There I visited my nephew Steve and his wife Katherine and their five children over the next day and a half. Early again on Thursday it was on to my final destination at Fontana, some 400 miles distant, just east of L-A and west of San Bernardino.

It’s been nice the last couple of days to have a little time to catch up on my sleep. I was available for another assignment late yesterday afternoon but despite two opportunities coming my way via the Qualcomm, the timing has been such that I couldn’t accept either. Since going “solo” on June 29th I’ve driven a little more than 44,000 miles and seen 41 states. I’ve come real close to a few others but there are opportunities yet to come.

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On Tuesday October 2nd I was at the Columbus, Ohio terminal and wrote the following at about 8:00 that evening ...

I just made my final of two stops since picking up a trailer load of Michelin tires destined for Swift trucks beginning with our Martinsburg, W. Va. terminal. After the Martinsburg shop took it’s 60 tires I left yesterday morning for our terminal in Jonesville, Pa. just east of Harrisburg. Arriving late in the afternoon, and not having enough shop personnel to unload their 57 tires, I was told I’d have to wait until morning for them to take their share of the load. So after sleeping in ‘til 8 a.m. eastern and after less than half an hour to unload I was finally on my way south to Columbus some 450 miles distant via I-81, I-76 and I-70. I arrived in Columbus at 5:15 in the afternoon and was empty two hours later with my minimum 10 hour break ahead of me before I can leave on my next assignment, to parts yet unknown.

The last few weeks have been busy to say the least. My girlfriend Mercedes and I met at the Martinsburg, West Virginia terminal on Friday evening September 14th. Mercedes drove the two hour trip from Virginia, ready to begin her little more than two-week vacation exploring unknown destinations with me amidst the confines of my Volvo. Now how lucky can one guy get!? Understanding that “enquiring minds” want to know ... she slept in the upper while I occupied the lower bunk. Maybe not so “lucky.”

But, before hitting the road in the 18-wheeler, with the weekend off as a trucker, we loaded up her Trail Blazer and early the next day blazed a trail the 400 miles or so north to Akron, Ohio. There we would visit with my Uncle Eli and Aunt Mary as well as their daughter, my cousin Judy. We had a fun visit of a few hours and then spent some time visiting with my Aunt Edith who lives at a nearby retirement home. I hadn’t seen her for many years and it was a pleasant visit to finally get to see her. Still the same Edith with that big smile and good nature I’ve always remembered.

The next day on Saturday the 15th it was on to New Jersey where we hooked up with one of my best friends Mark. As I’d written in earlier posts Mark was there from Seattle taking a two-week long class for his work. Mercedes and I had hoped to be there sooner but got a later-than-expected start and lost our bearings somewhere in Jersey. Not inclined to ask for directions I finally found my way through the maze of New Jersey freeways, across the various bridges (sometimes headed in the wrong direction) and along neighborhood streets. We finally arrived at the Doubletree Hotel in Somerset early that evening. We did get close enough to see the skyline of the Big Apple in the distance, first mistaking it for Newark. The next morning the three of us drove into Newark, parked Mercedes’ car and caught a train into the city arriving at Manhattan’s Penn Station at around 9:30 a.m. We had finally arrived!

As we ventured outside the huge Penn Station on that Sunday morning we found ourselves deep in the canyons of the tall skyscrapers of NYC! Next door to Penn Station we saw the building housing the ABC Radio and TV Networks along side “Peter Jennings Way.” Mark hailed a cab, with the style and flair of a real New Yorker (we have pictures to prove it!), and we arrived at 125 Columbus Avenue and the Manhattan First Ward of the LDS Church just in time for their 10 a.m. meeting. It was an interesting mix as the ward was made up of the rich and talented. Among the members were Wall Street attorneys and investment house employees. A host of Broadway actors and singers were also among the congregation as well as Juilliard students. Mark noted the singing was the best he’d ever heard at a ward meeting.

Church was held on the third floor of what was about a seven story building full, no doubt, of chapels and meeting rooms as well as offices. From the street the building was not unlike any other in Manhattan. Nor once inside was it much different from other LDS Church buildings I’d visited anywhere else in the country ... save the elevators. One thing that did set the building apart from other meeting houses I’ve seen was a large ground floor doorway marking the entrance of “The Manhattan New York Temple.” Once outside, if one looks high above, they’ll see the large gold statue of the Angel Moroni seen atop all the LDS Temples.

The rest of the day was spent seeing as much as we could in the limited time we had available. Certainly more visits are in our future. After Church we caught a cab and headed to the south end of the island. The trip of about 5-6 miles took us past Central Park, “The Donald’s” Trump Plaza and the Empire State Building. In the distance we could see the CNN building. The fare costing nearly $21.00 delivered us to Wall Street.

We visited the large bronze “Charging Bull” statue representing the “aggressive financial optimism and prosperity” all wall street investors hope for. A couple dozen tourists surrounded the statue as they took turns for a quick photo while standing to either side. It’s undoubtedly one of the most photographed objects in the city and it’s history is noteworthy. Being a stockbroker Mark couldn’t resist the opportunity to have his picture taken among them.

A few blocks away we stopped in front of the impressive flag-draped New York Stock Exchange (see picture at the top of this post) where it’s entrance was heavily barricaded and guarded by several check points along the street by police and their bomb-sniffing dogs. After strolling past and taking some pictures we walked several blocks to Battery Park. There near the southern tip of the island, and where the the Hudson and East Rivers meet, we could see in the distance the Statue of Liberty as well as Ellis Island. The weather was perfect! Warm and sunny, but not too humid. Several ferry boats were loaded with tourists headed for the statue and Ellis. Nearby too was the famous Staten Island Ferry. Walking yet several blocks further we finally arrived at the site where once stood the twin towers of the World Trade Center. It was memorable to say the least to see the familiar street signs, the neighboring buildings, as well as the long sloping access ramp leading from street level to the base where the towers once stood. It’s the same ramp where on television I watched flag draped stretchers being carried out of the debris, and the same one where family members walked just a few days earlier to commemorate the sixth anniversary since the attack.

We wrapped up our visit with a late afternoon trip to the top of the Empire State Building. Taking nearly 45 minutes, two elevator rides, as well as a climb of several flights of stairs we noted it was far from the easy trip depicted in the movie “Sleepless in Seattle” when Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan rush to the top in search of “Jonah.” Once high above the streets the view was impressive! We’d have photos except the camera batteries decided to die on us just as we arrived. Above us we could see the same antenna mast that King Kong once grasped before losing his balance and falling to the street more than 80 stories below. By the end of the day we were all pretty much “spent.” After another train trip back to Newark we piled in the car and with Mark behind the wheel we (or should I say Mark) proceeded to get lost on our return to the hotel. By Monday the 17th Mercedes and I were back in Martinsburg and it was time for the two of us to become truckers.

Including New York and Ohio, during our travels together, Mercedes and I visited 14 states covering more than 5,300 miles. We started our 18-wheeled journey in Frederick, Maryland carrying 29,000 pounds of those tasty English Muffins to Pennsylvania. We ended up as far west as Houston, Texas on the next trip hauling various juices including Apple and Yahoo. On the way we crossed through West Virginia, Kentucky, Tennessee, Alabama, Mississippi and Louisiana adding several new states to those I’d never seen before. We drove through Birmingham, Alabama, saw signs for Selma, and then on through Meridian, Mississippi. I was reminded of those tumultuous days in the 60’s when these cities of the deep south were the hotbed of the civil rights movement. I liked Houston but couldn’t say much of what passes as the Swift terminal there.

On our return to the east coast I carried a load of more than 200,000 empty aluminum soft drink cans from Texas to Georgia by way of Interstate 10. We traveled along the southern coast past Baton Rouge and nearby New Orleans. Later in the day we skimmed the Gulf of Mexico at Mobile, Alabama. Then it was on to Tallahassee, Florida where we eventually turned north and crossed into Georgia. The Florida “Welcome Center” near Pensacola was beautiful, just like the weather, and free Florida Orange juice was served inside. We picked up a K-Mart load just north of Savannah at the Port of Georgia in Garden City, along the Atlantic coast, where cargo ships were docked. It was a short 250 mile trip to the distribution center at Newnan in the suburbs of Atlanta. The return trips back to West Virginia included a 400 mile load from a Home Depot D.C. in Braselton, Georgia to their store in Roanoke, Virginia. From Roanoke we hauled Elizabeth Arden cosmetics to Reading, Pa. and then 45,000 pounds of bottled water back to our starting point in Martinsburg. The trailer of water would eventually be delivered to a Sam’s Club facility in Lexington, Kentucky but another truck and it’s driver would take it there.

After parking our truck in Martinsburg, for our last day together on the final day of September, Mercedes and I visited our third Civil War battlefield. This time it was Antietam, Maryland. The first major battle of the Civil War on northern soil, Antietam (or Sharpsburg as it’s sometimes referred to) was the site of the bloodiest battle in U.S. history with nearly 23-thousand casualties in a single day! Of those the National Park Service estimates that more than 7,000 were killed. What would people think if that many were lost in a single battle today?

We stood at what is known as “Bloody Lane” where 2000 Confederate and Union soldiers fell in the first hour. Along this 800 yard long sunken road there were a total 5600 casualties in the carnage that lasted 3 1/2 hours.

Later in the day we walked across Burnside’s Bridge that played a key role in the battle. The picturesque stone bridge crosses Antietam Creek and hundreds of Union soldiers were killed there in their assault against the Confederates to finally cross.

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I should be back to Lewiston the week after next. It will have been nearly four months since I was last there. I’ll have a short four days off from the 23rd through the 26th to move my car from the Lewiston terminal and then a quick trip to the Seattle area to move storage back to Yakima in a borrowed van. Then it’ll be back to Seattle to pick up my car and return to Yakima.

While at “home” in “the Yak” I’ll have a doctors appointment and hopefully time for a haircut before I have to return (via rental car) to Lewiston by Saturday the 27th. I’m hoping too to have a little time to visit family and friends. A little more than three weeks later, during Thanksgiving week, I should be back in the east again with Mercedes in Virginia where we’ll be married on November 24th. Wow! As I wrote earlier, how lucky can one guy be? Who would have thought!? And so it is, the life of a long-haul trucker.

During our times together over the last few months Mercedes and I have taken plenty of pictures. Soon we’ll have the best of them posted. Some will be seen here and others on a separate site. Until we see or hear from you again ... all our best to one and all!

Chicago Is! Not My Kinda Town

Who can't recall where they were and what they were doing six years ago today? It's hard to believe that it's been that long, and harder yet to believe that we've not experienced a similar attack since. Somebody must be doing something right! It's one of those days we will always remember and one certainly never to be forgotten, especially in these days of political debate. Life can and does go on, BUT NEVER, NEVER forget! Our very culture and our way of life depend on it.

"These are the times that try men’s souls: The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of his country; but he that stands it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict the more glorious the triumph." ~~ Thomas Paine, The Crisis, December 1776

Here I am at a Pilot Truck Stop where I spent last night. I’m near Lowell, Indiana, along southbound Interstate 65 with Chicago in my rearview mirror! My new destination is one I’ve been to twice before, Chambersburg, Pa. less than 45-minutes from historic Gettysburg. I’ve been “solo” now for more than 10 weeks. I’ve seen 28 states and have traveled nearly 21,000 miles since getting my own truck on June 28th. I’m pretty amazed to say the least.

The last four days I’ve crisscrossed through Minnesota and Wisconsin. I’ve been in towns named “Sheboygan,” “Oconomowoc,” “Manitowoc,” and “Winona.” Winona, Minnesota is a small town of 27,000 and where, just three weeks ago, six were killed in flooding of “historic proportions” according to one newspaper article. On Sunday I spent the day in the Green Bay, Wisconsin area.

Last Thursday morning I called in to the “Morning News” show at K.I.T. That’s the radio station where I used to work in Yakima. I had a pleasant conversation on-the-air with my friends Dave and Lance who host their little radio show there in the valley. Top rated and number one in the market of course! I had come out of Memphis the day before and spent the night at the “Trail of Tears” rest area in the “Land of Lincoln.” That morning I was heading into Chicago some 200 miles distant. I pulled over at a truck stop for a few minutes as we chewed the fat about my life as a trucker and explored the hot issue surrounding Mexican truckers driving into the U.S., under the N.A.F.T.A. agreement. Dave promises me lunch next time I’m in town, hopefully in October.

Later in the evening I cut through the downtown area of “Chitown” (that’s trucker-talk for Chicago). I drove northbound along I-90/94 passing the famous Sears Tower with it’s broadcast antennas, one bathed in bright red the other in bright yellow light, rising above it’s roof. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of it as I passed beneath. From 1973 until 1996 it was the world’s tallest building and is currently the tallest in North America. As it was dark I was disappointed not to get a glimpse of Lake Michigan a very short distance to the east.

My destination was a Macy’s Department Store Distribution Center just north of downtown. To get there I drove several miles up narrow Diversey Avenue through block after block of traffic lights, row houses and businesses, acclimating myself to the smells and feel of the local neighborhoods and habitat. I couldn’t help but think, “How can people live this way?” Finally I arrived at the D.C. It was a nightmare for a trucker. The yard had little space and on top of that another Swift truck broke down just as it was leaving and I was entering through the same inadequate gate. It took nearly an hour to clear the way for my entry with several trucks waiting behind me and around the corner along the busy street.

Once inside there was little room to maneuver with several trucks from various carriers all in the same confined space. After dropping my empty trailer just slightly out of the way of others, I got my loaded trailer number (T51835) from the security guard and started walking the yard to find it. Along an outside wall trailers were stored three-deep and in order to see the numbers of some I’d have to stoop and crawl below one trailer to reach another. After 45 minutes of searching and revisiting areas, just to be sure, I went back to the guard shack and asked, “Are you sure this trailer is here in the yard.” His answer, “No it’s probably at our other yard.” Luckily it was just a block and a half away, but only a little bigger than the first, and surrounded by tall buildings on all sides. After checking in at yet another security gate in a few short minutes I was hooked up. But, with my 53 foot trailer behind, it was nearly impossible to turn around in order to exit the yard. After several attempts on my part a yard worker, whose job is moving trailers in and out, offered to take the controls and in about ten minutes of twisting and turning managed to get my rig turned in the right direction. He was a pleasant Hispanic man and after offering my hand in thanks, and saying he had more than earned his pay for that night, we went our separate ways as he said “God bless you.” My way was pointed up Diversey back to the freeway and headed, with stout determination, the hell out of Chicago!!

The Chicago stop was the beginning of my trip that took me further north for my visit to Wisconsin and Minnesota. While I enjoyed the native’s quirky accents I had seen enough of those two states and yesterday finally left the region. Of course as I headed further east I had to pass through Chicago once again. This time I avoided the downtown freeways but never-the-less the toll road bypasses were dreadful to say the least. It took me more than 2 1/2 hours, in mostly bumper-to-bumper traffic, to make my escape.

Along the way and to the west of I-294 I passed the sprawling O’Hare airport and from my vantage point could see planes parked along ramps and runways faintly stretching into the distance for a couple of miles. Dang that’s a big airport! No offense Chicagoans, not that’s it isn’t a nice place to “visit,” but as far as Chicago is concerned -- from an 18-wheel perspective -- I’m sure as heck going to avoid future assignments there.

As I mentioned earlier I spent Sunday in Green Bay. Not having an assignment I sat for a couple of hours south of the city at a quiet, and mostly unoccupied, rest area (imagining myself at Church) and listening to the Green Bay Packer home football game on the radio. Little did I know that the company would send me that afternoon on a short excursion to drop off a trailer. And where to? Right down Lombardi Avenue (named after coach Vince Lombardi) and past Lambeau Field, the home of the Green Bay Packers. As I arrived the Packers had just defeated the Philadelphia Eagles 30 minutes earlier ... and the traffic!! I had no idea that my directions would take me right past the stadium until I saw it in the distance! Historic Lambeau Field was host to the storied “Ice Bowl,” when the temperature dropped to 13 degrees below zero on New Years Eve afternoon in 1967. It was the coldest temperature ever recorded for an NFL game and considered by many the greatest game in pro football history. Around the stadium streets were named after notable Packer celebrities. Among them “Holmgren Way,” named after Seattle Seahawk coach Mike Holmgren during his seventh and final year with the Packers in 1998. Gee name a street after him and then he leaves town! That’s gratitude for you!

Anyway Bret Favre and the Packers beat the Eagles 16-13 and the crowd leaving the stadium was festive. I’d never seen so much Green and Gold in any one area, (even later when I visited some suburban stores), but I guess that’s normal at any football venue (only the colors are different). But the one thing you don’t often see are the “Cheesehead” hats worn by some of the fans. It’s just what it implies, a large hat shaped like a wedge of cheese and yellow in color.


After-all Wisconsin is known for it’s large production of cheese ... how appropriate. But the hats are “cheesy” none-the-less!

In just a couple of days my truck will be parked at the Martinsburg, W. Va. terminal. This weekend with my girlfriend Mercedes I’ll be visiting New York City along with a best friend from the Seattle area. My next post should originate from the Big Apple! (Pictures to be posted soon!)


Sign of the Day: “State Prison Next Exit - Do Not Pick Up Hitchhikers”

Memphis But No Time for Graceland

My thanks as always to all those that visit here and for your words of praise.

I’m in Memphis, Tennessee tonight at a truck stop along Interstate 40 after running a load of footwear from Dexter, Maine to Mabelvale, Arkansas, a little community just southwest of Little Rock. I dropped my trailer early last night at a Dillard’s Department Store Distribution Center and then spent the night in nearby Benton. While here in Memphis I’d love to visit Elvis’ Graceland but there’s no time this trip to venture the less than ten mile distance. Where would I park anyway?

As I drove into Little Rock yesterday, along southbound I-30, I crossed the Arkansas River and could see a short distance to the east the “Clinton Presidential Center.” Set along the banks of the river within a park setting the building is a bit unique with a large section elevated above the ground. As much as I tried I really didn’t find the architecture all that impressive. But the huge and even dramatic First Pentecostal Church nearby and pictured below, more than made up for it.



After picking up loads today at two different locations in “Clinton Country” I’ll be on my way tomorrow to Hammond, Indiana just south of Chicago. My cargo includes Black & Decker appliances, as well as baby walkers and high chairs made by a local Arkansas company, all bound for Sears and K-Mart.

I’ve certainly seen my share of the northeast and especially the New England states the last few weeks. Twice in twenty days I’ve been as far north as Maine. The only two states in New England I have yet to see are Vermont and Rhode Island. Sooner or later I suppose I’ll make it. It’s amazing how quickly one can travel across several states in so short a time in the east and you gotta love those New Englanders and their distinct accents! During those trips I’ve come within 50 miles of the Big Apple and slightly further from Boston. As for N.Y.C., I’m saving that adventure for a week from Saturday when Mercedes and I will be visiting one of my best friends from Seattle there. I don’t expect a lot of hospitality while in New York however, but at least I won’t be driving into town in a big rig. Hopefully I’ll have an opportunity soon to take in the sights in historic Boston as well.

Speaking of historic places ... in addition to my recent visit to our nation’s capital, I’ve also had the opportunity to visit two Civil War battlefields with Mercedes. For a long time, since first seeing Ken Burn’s 1990 outstanding documentary series on the war, I’ve been a bit of a Civil War buff and have read several books on the subject. I especially enjoy visiting these historic places with someone else whose interest, patience and curiosity are the same as my own.

On Sunday August 26, after my week-long furlough in Washington, while on our way from Falls Church to my truck parked at our Richmond terminal, Mercedes and I made a spur-of-the-moment stop along I-95 to the battlefield at Fredericksburg. Located halfway between the Union capital of Washington and the Confederate capital of Richmond, the town was of high strategic value during those dark days. We spent a couple of hours there roaming the historic markers of what remains of the battlefield, as well as the tranquil National Cemetery where many of that battle’s dead are buried. During one single day in December of 1862 there were 18,000 casualties at Fredericksburg, among them four Generals, two from each army. It was disappointing to learn that much of the original field of battle, where many soldiers fell, is now occupied by homes and other buildings built as the city prospered and grew.

Then, just last Saturday, I stopped along Pennsylvania’s I-81 and parked the truck at the state’s “Welcome Center” on the Maryland border. Mercedes made the 90 minute drive up from Virginia and we headed for Gettysburg about 40 miles away. Quite unique from any other historic area I’ve had the opportunity to visit, Gettysburg is big and the open battlefield is preserved with numerous markers, monuments and statues spread across a number of square miles. All however are easily accessible by car. Many original buildings, still with their battle scars, remain in the area and are used as residences by Park Rangers to prevent vandalism.

We arrived mid-afternoon but wanting to take in the sight on a tour bus, and really not having enough money to do so, we decided to put off spending much time on the battleground. Instead we took the shuttle to Dwight Eisenhower’s nearby farm which the President and former five-star General bought following his retirement from the military in 1950. Just 18 miles from the Presidential retreat “Camp David,” Maryland, and adjacent to the Gettysburg battlefield, the home and it’s surroundings are, to my way of thinking, ideally situated with an incredible and wide ranging view of the distant mountains. What a beautiful and peaceful location for retirement! I especially appreciated walking through the house where “Ike” and Mamie’s original furnishings and accessories were, just the same as when they lived there.

Later Mercedes and I visited one of the two Gettysburg visitor centers and walked some of it’s streets as we made plans for our next visit. A highlight was a walk through the National Cemetery and seeing where Lincoln gave his famous Gettysburg Address, the spot marked by the Soldier’s National Monument pictured at the top of this posting. It’s a nice little town and worthy of a couple of days to see all that it offers. My goal while I’m “long-hauling” it is to visit every major battlefield of the Civil War and as many Presidential Libraries as I can.

Keep those emails coming. You’ll hear from me again soon, and thanks again for stopping by. May your travels be safe and as enjoyable as my own!

Maine to The Carolinas & Washington D.C.

I’m sitting along an off-ramp at Dandridge, Tennessee about 30 miles or so east of Knoxville. There are no open spaces at the nearby truck stop, so I make my home here tonight on I-81. This is my second pass through the state in just ten days and among that growing number of states I had never visited before ... until just recently. Tomorrow morning I pick up a load at Chestnut Hill and head to Chambersburg, Pa. just a short distance from Gettysburg.

Since I last wrote I’ve been as far north as Skowhagen, Maine and down to Greer, South Carolina. Then it was back to Front Royal, Virginia, about a 90 minute drive from Washington, D.C. After my drop of Sterilite products in Front Royal at a Family Dollar Warehouse on the 18th I spent the next 8 days in the Washington D.C. area visiting with Mercedes. She treated me to a great time and chauffered me around to visit the sights and a few of the old neighborhoods where I lived as a young boy in nearby Maryland.

One night we drove into the city from Virginia passing on our left the John F. Kennedy Center and the nearby Watergate complex. To our right we could see the Lincoln Memorial and Memorial Bridge connecting the city with the main entrance into Arlington Cemetery. In the distance ahead was the Washington Monument. All were brightly lit.

Within a couple of blocks of the White House we parked the car and walked the short distance to the front of the “Executive Mansion" on Pennsylvania Avenue. I thought how small the President’s home looks when seen in person. Not as big I’m sure as many people imagine, but impressive none-the-less. A few people gazed through the large iron fence while others took pictures. A single protestor stood vigil across the street, sitting in a make-shift tent covered in a large clear plastic sheeting for protection from the weather. His cause I failed to note. Watching us close by was a "Secret Service" police officer. I knew he was Secret Service as that's what it said on the back of his jacket. I was struck by the number of uniformed police seen at nearly every street corner along the route from the Capitol building to the White House.

A few days later we would return to the city and spend several hours visiting Arlington Cemetery. Among our stops was President Kennedy’s grave and the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. While there we watched the head of Russia’s Navy place a wreath at the tomb with an American Navy Admiral. Just before, a Navy band played the Russian Anthem and then our own Star Spangled Banner. After the wreath was placed a female Naval bugler played “Taps” while a large contingent of Navy Honor Guard and flag bearers stood by and then silently but precisely marched away. Within a few minutes we watched the popular “Changing of the Guard.” We also took a few moments to visit briefly the grave of Audie Murphy. In 27 months of combat, Murphy became the most decorated U.S. combat soldier of World War II. Later he would become a successful Hollywood actor and played himself in the highly acclaimed autobiographical movie "To Hell and Back."

Later in the day it was on to the memorials of World War II, the Korean War as well as the long black Vietnam War Memorial. Frankly I wasn’t as impressed with the Vietnam "Wall" as I had expected. I can understand those who were critical of it's design. The new WW II Memorial (pictured above) however was quite impressive and spacious with a large fountain in it’s center. It’s in a beautiful setting -- midway between the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial. At the end of our visit we stood at the base of the large seated Abraham Lincoln in the beautiful “temple” that honors him. As we left we rehearsed the scene from the movie “Forrest Gump” when Forrest spoke from the same steps we stood on.

After having been gone for so long (the last time I was in D.C. was in 1980), and especially growing up there as a boy, I had forgotten how beautiful a city Washington really is. Many of the government buildings are simply magnificent in their design and architecture. I was pleasantly surprised that the weather there wasn’t as humid and hot as it normally is. In fact I was reminded of the unpredictable weather we often experienced in Seattle. Rainy and a bit cold it was, despite it being August. That’s certainly not the “norm” for Washington D.C, but you won't hear me complain.

A Week in Willard One Night

I sit this morning in Willard, Ohio, about an hour or so drive west of Akron. I arrived last night at 7 p.m. eastern time after driving with only one short fueling and bathroom break for a straight twelve hours. My driver Manager phoned me along the way indicating the “consignee” was “chomping at the bit” to receive this load of 12 large paper rolls weighing in at more than 42-thousand pounds. But, When I arrived I found out I had an appointment time of 5:30 the following afternoon. To say the least I’m not a happy camper, especially in light of the fact that I could have stopped at one of two truck stops some 40 miles east of here. Instead I’m stuck here in a dirt lot among other disgruntled and waiting truckers next to the delivery docks. On top of all this my Qualcomm communication keyboard hasn’t worked for several days and there is no cell phone service here in Willard. But I suppose things could be worse.

In an attempt on foot to find a pay phone to make some calls, and finding none of three that would work for me, I happened along a local ice cream store. In an effort to relieve my frustration I decided to buy a large chocolate cone. When I saw how tall they had stacked the ice cream (a good 6 or more inches) I had expected a charge of three to four dollars and was pleasantly surprised to pay only $1.75. With my frustration only mildly tempered that was the highlight of my evening as I feel asleep early and woke at about 6:30 a.m.

The drive here past Akron on highway 244 was interesting as I passed through several small towns and, among the Ohio Amish people. Along the way I passed a make-shift Amish outdoor market. There sat dozens of their wagons hitched to horses with the hatted and bonneted men and women and their similarly dressed children busily milling about. The wagons loaded with fruits and vegetables. On the opposite side of the lot were the cars and trucks of the non-believers there to buy their goods. A couple of times I had to slow for a horse-drawn buggy along the way and passed others going in the opposite direction.

Since my last entry I’ve been to Oklahoma City and then went on to New Milford, Connecticut. I spent one of my best days ever visiting with a gorgeous latin girl who drove up from the Virginia suburbs of Washington D.C. (350 miles) just to see me! (Who would have thought!). "Mercedes," who is unquestionably the new love of my life, or even more commonly referred to as my "girlfriend," and I spent most of our time visiting nearby Waterbury, Ct.

Waterbury is a beautiful and typical old New England town with it’s tree-shaded homes, narrow streets, a sprawling downtown park with a statue honoring it’s Civil War soldiers. An attached plaque contained the following inscription: “In honor of the patriotism and to perpetuate the memory of the 900 brave men who went forth from this town to fight the war for the Union. This monument has been erected by their townsmen that all who come after them may be mindful of their deeds and fail not in the day of trial to emulate their example. 1861-1865” Waterbury has become one of my all-time favorite towns and Mercedes and I hope to visit there again soon.

Eight days ago, as I passed through Akron on my first trip in many years to the northeast, I spent an evening with my cousin Judy and visited her mom and dad, my aunt Mary and Uncle Eli. It was a pleasant but brief reunion with those I hadn’t seen in about a dozen years. Then, just this past Tuesday, I spent a similar afternoon and evening visiting a number of my cousins who I hadn’t seen for 20 years or longer in Clearfield, Pa. Clearfield is where I was born and the source of many fond childhood memories with my large family of aunts, uncles and cousins. While there I visited the cemetery where my father, grandfather, great grandparents and many of my other relatives are buried.

I had hoped this job would allow me to see the country and to visit friends and relatives I hadn't seen in years. So far, so good!

Wal-Mart Country

I’m parked at a Pilot Truck Stop in Springdale, Arkansas, just down the road from Bentonville and the Wal-Mart Distribution Center where I make my next delivery tomorrow morning. My load is nearly 37,000 pounds of mens and ladies watches. A "high value load" as they're sometimes called. Bentonville also happens to be where Sam Walton opened his first Wal-Mart store in 1962 and where the world's largest retailer is headquartered. The original "five and dime" store pictured above now serves as a Wal-Mart "Visitor Center" in Bentonville.

I arrived here at 1:30 this afternoon. After an hour or so visiting the truck stop store, updating my log and a bit of tidying up my small surroundings I laid down for a nap and just woke. Matt Drudge talks on the radio.

The last several days have come pretty early for me with not as much sleep as I should have overnight. Last night I watched a DVD on my laptop. It’s the first time I’ve done that since my truck driving career began. I’ve either been too tired, didn’t have enough time, or just plain not interested to do so previously. I bought “The Legend of Bagger Vance” several weeks ago and had never seen it. It’s unlike me to buy a movie unseen but I’d always thought it to be my kind of movie and I wasn’t disappointed.

I drove across the Oklahoma/Arkansas state line early this afternoon. It’s the first time I’ve visited the state. No Clinton signs anywhere but I was greeted in the border town of Siloam Springs with American flags displayed on every light post along the south side of the street spaced about 30 feet apart. I’m guessing I drove for four or five miles along highway 412 through the entire town with not one light post missed. Businesses along the route also with their own flag poles, displayed state and other flags along with "Old Glory." It was quite an impressive sight. I’d like to write the city council a note of appreciation and thanks for their display of patriotism.

I loved the large billboard I saw as I crossed into Oklahoma from Texas, “Welcome to Tulsa Time” You’d have to be a country music fan to appreciate that.

Just North of the Border

Hard to believe that August is already upon us and summer is about to wind down and give way to cooler temperatures, at least in many parts of the country. But let's not be too premature, there’s still the next 30 days as well as September and maybe part of October to enjoy. Maybe I can stay down in the southern part of the country and not see any snow or temps below 60 all winter long! I doubt it though.

I’m in Mexico! At least it feels that way. Everywhere I go I see signs in Spanish and everyone I hear seems to be speaking the same as I await another assignment. I just completed a 340 mile trip from Phoenix to the “Otay Mesa” area south of San Diego. Even further south yet of National City and Chula Vista! Heck I’m so close to Mexico even the Border Patrol checks me out as they pass. I saw a border patrolman on a four wheeler a few hours ago arrayed in a camouflage helmet and combatish green outfit with holster ready to do battle. He passed my parked truck seeming to be on the lookout for something or someone outside Swift’s Otay Mesa Terminal on Calle de Linea (that’s the name of the street).

So, here I am back in California again and only about a mile and a half from the Mexican border. Tijuana lies only slightly further. As I drove through southwest California I saw quite a few Border Patrol vehicles (cars and pickups) and even a few helicopters skimming the desert border. Out in the middle of nowhere along Interstate 8 I slowed to a near-stop but was passed on through at a “Border Patrol Check Station.” All of this no doubt part of Homeland Security and immigration control. I’m in the “thick of it” here! The photo above is a section of border fence not far from where I sit.

My cargo that brought me to the southern-most reaches of California? Nearly 850 fifty pound bags of “Pizza Flour!” With the pallets and packing material the total load came in at 43,645 lbs. When I opened the doors on the trailer to make the delivery they were all still neatly stacked on their 17 pallets just as they were when I closed the doors adding the lock and seal at their origin. It was a smooth drive all the way.

I spent the night last night about 70 miles north of my destination along I-8 at the “Golden Acorn” Casino and Truck Stop in Live Oak Springs, Ca. courtesy of the La Posta Indian tribe. I’ve never heard of them and it’s likely they’ve never heard of me. Since they didn’t have a Craps table, and especially since I didn’t have the money, I didn’t play. I looked at the one wall full of pictures of their big winners and admittedly envied the California man who a couple of years ago won a cool $1,950,000 on one of the Casino “Wheels of Fortune” machines. Why couldn’t that be me? One reason, I don’t play the slots!

After looking around the truck stop store in the connected facility I stood by watching a few hands of Blackjack before venturing back to my parked truck. Once cozied up inside with the “privacy curtains” drawn (just like they are now) I made some bologna sandwiches with a fruit cup and enjoyed a few bites from a chocolate bar washed down with Lemon-Lime Gatorade. Man! This is living!

I thought late this afternoon my next assignment would be a “High Value” load destined to a Wal-Mart facility at their home town of Bentonville, Arkansas. But all of a sudden it wasn’t to be. A 1670 mile trip here one minute, along with feelings of ecstasy, and then an hour later ... gone! A long story, good for telling in person. Life’s not fair, but who ever said it would be?

I had planned to be on the road by 9:00 tonight after sitting here since 11:00 this morning, but now it looks like I might be spending the night on a street outside the terminal. I won’t be alone though as I’m in good company with about a half dozen other trucks, with and without trailers, parked in the same area. Ask me too about making the wrong turn less than a half-mile from today’s destination. Thank goodness, tomorrows another day.

Sign of the Day: “Caution: People Crossing On Road” (Along California’s 8-Lane Interstate 805 - Southbound near the Mexico border).

By The Time I Get To Phoenix

Well here I am finally in the "Valley of the Sun," Phoenix, Arizona and my tractor parked at the company headquarters. I have once again learned that it isn’t always “what” you know but rather “who” you know when it comes to getting what you want. This truism was evident in my more than three-week effort to get down this way with several near-misses.

I’ve spent the weekend here in the Phoenix “burbs” having arrived early Friday evening amidst all the news about the two T.V. news helicopters that collided here earlier in the day. Rather than deal with the unknown parking situation at the terminal on a weekend night, and wanting to make the trip to pick me up as easy as possible on my various hosts, I chose to drive beyond the headquarters facility to the nearest Rest Area some 30+ miles further down I-10, half-way it seemed to Tucson.

Since arriving, with more than two days to spare before my scheduled delivery, I’ve visited with friends and family and spent two nights sleeping in a regular bed, although my niece Zoe’s was a little short. I also managed to get a much-needed haircut. I’ve seen some relatives I haven’t seen in more than a dozen years, many of them just young kids the last time I saw them. Now they’re married with young families of their own. Clearly the next generation has a firm foothold and is about to take over.

Last night I stayed in my truck and after resting only three hours was on my way to a five a.m. delivery of my 45,600 pound load of bottled water. The shipment originated in Stockton, Ca., and was picked up Thursday morning at nine a.m. with the final destination a local “Sparkletts” distributor here in Phoenix. The more than 700 mile trip was uneventful but I did enjoy some more unique sights and experiences along the way. Among them, crossing the treacherous “Grapevine” a mountain pass along I-5 100 miles or so south of Bakersfield. A major route between northern and southern California the pass is located at the southern end of the San Joaquin Valley. Along the way there were plenty of trucks, lines of them traveling in both directions. As we neared the bottom of the long, steep downhill grade semis were limited to a speed of 40 mph. Finally and suddenly at the bottom, you find yourself in the community of Valencia and the "Magic Mountain" amusement park a short distance to the west and just 26 miles from Los Angeles. Time to change the radio to my favorite oldies station, K-EARTH One-Oh-One!

The company headquarters is everything I had imagined. A complex of 11 modern buildings. A “Driver’s Center,” 9 or 10 lanes for fueling up, and of course “Building 1,” where the “Administration” hangs out. I spent a wad at the company store this morning, buying several shirts and also a number of tools to help me in my job.

The weather here has been just as expected ... HOT! Although “cooler” than recent temperatures it was still in the high 90’s and up to 104 degrees during the day, “not bad” the locals say. On Saturday I saw a distant dust storm in the area and was glad that we weren’t in the midst of it. Onerous looking to say the least!

I’ve now driven more than 21,000 miles since hitting the road with my mentor and more than 7500 miles since going solo 32 days ago. Where I’m headed next? Who knows?

Stuck in Sumner

Well it could be worse, I suppose. I could be stuck in Lodi as “Creedence” sings about. I’ve been through Lodi, California recently and no offense, but there’s nicer places. The song however seems to closely fit my situation, ‘cept the Lodi part.

"Just about a year ago, I set out on the road,
Seekin’ my fame and fortune, lookin’ for a pot of gold.
Things got bad, and things got worse, I guess you will know the tune.
Oh Lord, Stuck in Lodi again."

Having just recently received my own truck I’d noted with my driver manager before I left Lewiston that it appeared to be near it’s required 30,000 mile periodic servicing. She put it off saying to let her know when it was past the 120-thousand mile mark. She couldn’t set up an appointment, I was told, until it had reached that magic number. (At the time it had just over 118-thousand on it’s odometer). So with the passage of time as well as a number of miles I finally had an opportunity this past Friday to have the work done when I arrived here at the Sumner, Washington terminal for a log book class, required of all new drivers.

I checked in with the service department and after they scanned the records on their computer system, it turned out the truck is more than 6,000 miles past due for servicing. The service writer told me they couldn’t allow me another trip until the truck had been serviced, and initially indicated it probably wouldn’t be done until Sunday. Bottom line, we should have had the truck serviced when I initially brought it up with my DM. The reality ... they didn’t get it finished until this afternoon ... it’s now Monday. So, here I was ... stuck in Sumner for the weekend. I did spend some time with both my youngest boys on Thursday night and Friday, but their busy lives along with wants and needs has limited our time together. Meanwhile on Saturday and Sunday a couple of different friends came and picked me up for eats, refreshment and company. Now with Monday evening fast approaching I’m without an assignment and not sure when I’ll get one. If not late this afternoon, no doubt tomorrow morning sometime. So, here I am, still stuck in Sumner.

Terminals are places where Swift conducts it’s business with it’s drivers. There are more than thirty of them scattered around the country. There you’ll find terminal and fleet managers, driver managers, safety people, trainers, shops for maintenance and repair, receptionists to greet the public and other support staff. It’s a place for drivers to relax and to park their trucks knowing they’ll be secure. You'll also find lots of trailers, either empty ones or those waiting transfer to other locales. There’s a driver lounge which can vary greatly in size, comfort and amenities with televisions also of varying dimensions depending on the terminal. There’s sinks, coffee pots and microwaves for preparing meals and vending machines as well as coin-operated washers and dryers. In fact I did my laundry (one load of color, one of whites) just last night. There are class rooms and other offices and there are “drop boxes” where drivers leave the paperwork in designated envelopes for their completed trips. Without submitting the paperwork drivers won’t get paid.

The Sumner terminal is one of the nicer ones I’ve had the opportunity to visit (not perfect, but nice none-the-less). It’s a newer facility with a large bathroom and several showers. The required log book class was timely with a good instructor who answered a number of questions I had wondered about since going “solo.” Keeping a legal log book is one of those time-consuming “pains” of being a long-haul trucker. I understand the D.O.T.’s reasoning, but they’re still a major nuisance. Kind of like a diary every quarter-hour of every day has to be accounted for, as it occurs. There are four categories for your entries. “Off Duty,” “Sleeper Berth,” “Driving” and “Off Duty (Not Driving).” If you get stopped by the State Patrol, or at a state Inspection or Weigh Station, and your log book is not up to date it can cost you literally hundreds of dollars in fines. If you find yourself involved in a serious accident, regardless who’s at fault, how you have entered your last “Change of Duty” could be the difference between spending the night a free man, or in jail. It can be that important! So, if you’re like me, and always wondered what those truckers were dutifully doing with pen in hand, as they sat behind the wheel of their stopped truck, wonder no more! They’re no doubt updating their log book.

My latest trip from Tracy, California to nearby Puyallup went fairly well. I actually got to drive the greatest majority of it on the Interstate, northbound on I-5. I drove over, for at least the second time, the “Veterans Memorial Bridge.” It’s a huge high level roadway spanning a section of California’s Lake Shasta. Far below one could see dozens of large houseboats as well as other pleasure craft. It was quite a sight from that high vantage point. Unfortunately it was raining steadily that morning and I could imagine the vacationers weren’t enjoying their time on the water quite as much as they had hoped. Later that afternoon I climbed northern California’s “Anderson Grade Summit” and experienced one of the worse downpours I’d ever witnessed. The storm, less than 20 miles south of the Oregon border, included everything a good rain storm is known for, heavy rain with hail, rolling thunder and lightning. Some cars and vans pulled over to wait it out, while others, like me, crawled ahead with headlights on. In my rearview mirrors I could hardly make out anything except the occasional faint traces of headlights from cars behind. The temperature dropped from the low 80’s to 61 degrees in just a matter of minutes. I don’t believe, that during this short trucking career of mine, I’ve seen daytime temperatures as low. It was pretty nasty, with limited visibility and my wipers running at full throttle, but the truck got a needed washing and I doubt there was a bug to be seen anywhere on the mirrors or front end, where they often congregate, by the thousands!

I spent that evening, Wednesday night the 18th, at the “Seven Feathers Casino, Hotel and Resort” located near Canyonville, Oregon and about 25 miles south of Roseburg. I parked my truck about a mile distant at the Seven Feathers Truck & Travel Center all part of the same complex which included free shuttle service to the casino. The casino and other buildings encompassing the “resort” as well as “RV Park” were first class. Unlike several of the Indian casinos I’ve come across in other recent trips across Oregon this one had a Craps table, and that my friend is my game of choice. Admittedly I couldn’t resist and after several hours I gave back all the winnings -- plus a little more -- of what I had acquired a week or so earlier while spending my 34 hour reset at a Sparks, Nevada truck stop. Easy-come, easy-go as they say, but there’ll be other days! And despite the loss I slept well that night at the truck stop.

I’m hoping they’ll get me down to Phoenix within the next week or so. There I’m planning to spend a few days visiting friends and family and check out the company headquarters. Got to save a little money for my visit to the company store as well. I’m looking forward to it, despite the current temperatures well past 100 degrees. More, as the story unfolds ...

A Day In A New Life

(Here’s an entry written several weeks ago, recently discovered but one I overlooked posting. Just a little something written on my second day out).

It’s 8:30 a.m. Saturday June 30th and I’m 335 miles into my first loaded trip as a solo driver. My rig is a 2007 Volvo VNL 670 with a 400+ horsepower Cummins Diesel engine. My destination is Sparks, Nevada, and I’m about half-way there. I’m just south of the small town of Jordan Valley, Oregon as I slice through the southwest corner of the state. My route takes me from Lewiston south on highway 95 and then west on I-80 at Winnemucka, Nevada. It’s an easy, uncomplicated trip.

After hooking up a trailer late yesterday afternoon at the Lewiston terminal I only have to drop it off at our Sparks terminal outside Reno. A “T-Call” as it’s referred to, meaning another driver will pick up the trailer and deliver it to it’s destination. In this case a Longs Drug Store distribution center in Patterson, Ca. A lot of people will have me to thank when nature calls and they partake of their share of the 21,732 lbs of “Bathroom Tissue” I’m carrying.

I’ve run out of hours per D.O.T. regulations. After taking a “nap” break near Parma, Idaho of 4 1/2 hours I hit the road again only to realize I had just a couple of hours left of the 14 hours of “on duty” time I’m allowed. I had no choice, I would have to take a 10 hour break. I would have been better off had I just stayed where I was in Parma and taken my entire 10 hours there. As it is, the clock starts all over again from this stop. Being a rookie, I’m allowed some mistakes, besides I’ve plenty of time to complete this trip and I can use the time for rest and to relax a bit.

So here I am hidden behind my cab curtains along a wide spot on the road and plenty of time on my hands. I’m out of range for making cell phone calls, which would help wile away the hours. It’s 81 degrees outside and my ACs on with the remote-controlled radio tuned to an oldies station playing the Guess Who’s 70’s hit “No Time.” My laptop is powered through a 450 watt inverter that converts the 12 Volt DC in-cab power to 115 AC for home appliances etc.

I’m driving a less than one year old Volvo tractor with a little more than 100,000 miles. As I get some mileage behind me I’m learning the best way to organize and stay organized in my confined quarters. One things for sure, if you don’t constantly keep straightening after yourself you could quickly get disorganized. Just as Brigham Young once said, “A place for everything, and everything in it’s place.” Reminds me of the small camper trailers I would sleep in with one of my ex brother-in-laws, only my home is even smaller! That same brother-in-law is celebrating his birthday today and I reminded myself last night that I’ll want to give him a caall today. He was born on the exact middle day of the century, so you can figure out his age. I’ll only tell you he’s ALOT older than me!

One disappointment with my new truck is that it doesn’t allow space for a refrigerator. One can adapt by sitting the fridge on the passenger seat using bungee cords to secure it, but that’s not my style. As my son Sean would say, “I don’t roll that way!” But I’ll have to figure out something so I can store at least a small amount of cold foods.

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It’s 12:35 in the afternoon now and after some rest in my bunk I’ve woken and visited outside of the rig. My in-dash temperature guage says it’s 85 degrees outside, although I would have thought it maybe a bit warmer. The truck has been idling for the entire morning to keep me cool. I’m not sure how much fuel I’ve used while sleeping, but I’m glad I’m not an owner-operator. I forgot to reset the meter on the readout to give me an idea, but I suspect I’ve burned a couple of gallons. I’ve slept well and maybe woke up momentarily twice the last few hours. My mattress is comfortable but not the quality pillow-mattress my mentor had in his truck. I’m hoping to rectify that in the next few weeks.

I can’t believe I’ve been so lucky to get through these last couple of months fairly unscathed and with a bright, shiny new rig to do my work. In a few more hours I’ll have rested the required ten and I’ll be on my way once again. I expect I’ll arrive at my destination around 1 a.m. in the morning. Where my next assignment will take me, I have no idea...

"Rome Wasn't Built In A Day"

It’s been two weeks to the day since I struck out on my own with my first solo trip out of Lewiston. Since then, during my five trips so far, I’ve hauled, among other things, 12,000 lbs. of cardboard for Boise Cascade, 45,000 lbs of various wines to two different distributors in Boise, as well as hay for a Monteview, Idaho farmer. That's right, hay! More than 41,000 lbs of it to be exact in large 1900-2000 lb. bales destined for a Kingsburg, California dairy farm, some 930 miles away. When I first read the assignment I thought to myself, “I’ve never heard of either one of these towns!”

This job can sure get awful dirty at times and that dairy was as dusty as it gets! Not only that, I had a crew of local flies in side my cab that decided to hitch a ride. It was a couple of days before I finally showed the last one out my opened passenger window, somewhere near Wheeler Ridge, Ca.

Right now I have a trailer load of unknown product I picked up this afternoon from our Swift terminal in Troutdale, Oregon. The load is due anytime tomorrow for delivery to a Wal-Mart distribution center near Hermiston, Or. It’s been a nice drive the last couple of hours eastbound along I-84 and the Columbia River Gorge. Tonight I'll sleep at "Biggs Junction" with my home state of Washington in sight, just across the Columbia. Just a few days ago I delivered a load of Proctor & Gamble products loaded at an Oxnard, California warehouse to another Wal-Mart DC just outside Sparks, Nevada. After running out of hours, per the D.O.T.’s “70 hour rule,” I sat most of Sunday and all day Monday for a “34 hour reset” of “off duty” time at a Sparks, NV. truck stop. Surprisingly I never visited neighboring Reno, one of my all-time favorite towns. It’s just not as fun when you’re by yourself. :(

Now with a little time on the road I’m beginning to create some habits and routines to stay organized and to be as efficient as I can. One things for certain: the limited space I have is much more noticeable as a solo driver than it ever was when I was with my instructor during those 6 weeks. With Dennis we weren’t really “living” in the truck, but just using it mostly as a tool for our work. There’s a big difference. With me this is my "home." Not only do I use it to accomplish my work, but I “live” in it’s confined space as best I can. It’s a good thing I can count on it moving as the constant change in scenery makes it all worthwhile. And thanks to whoever invented Velcro. It sure comes in handy for keeping things in their place! You'd be surprised what a guy with a little time can do with some "hook and loop" tape and his tools of the trade and other essentials.

Twice in the last week I’ve had the opportunity to cross over California’s 7000 foot Donner Pass near the Nevada border. Named after the ill-fated Donner Party of pioneers that struggled nearby for survival during the winter storms of 1846-1847. Of the 83 people who were trapped east of the pass, only 45 survived to reach California, some of them resorting to cannibalism to stay alive. Despite it’s history it is unquestionably among the most beautiful stretches of mountain pass in the states as it traverses the rugged Sierra Nevada Mountains. I only wish someone had been with me to share in it's grandeur.

In this work I seem to lose track of days as they turn into nights and nights again evolve into days. I often forget what day it is and have to write things down or I find myself at a loss to remember where I was ... just yesterday. I had expected to post to this blog more often. There are so many things I could write about, my experiences along the road and things I’ve seen or thought, but there are three things one needs in order to maintain this commentary. Time, energy and the Internet. Without all three the job just doesn’t get done. I’ve been pretty busy since going “solo,” logging more than 4400 miles so far, and time is limited allowing me it seems just enough to rest and recover for my next leg in the journey. When I do have some time to spare I often lack the energy to do much writing. (This is a lot of work, believe me!) Then, of course, one needs access to the Internet in order to post. But the stars have once again aligned over Henrietta and the opportunity has presented itself, so here’s a little story I’d like to share.

On my second day out, Saturday June 30th, I found myself in a sleepy (and I do mean “sleepy”) little town called “Rome.” In the middle of nowhere in the southeast corner of Oregon, it’s not far from the borders of two other states. This little commune lies along a stretch of “no man’s land” on highway 95 between Nampa, Idaho and Winnemucca, Nevada. (I don’t make these names up!) Apparently the town was named for some peculiar geologic formations that suggested the ruined temples of Rome, Italy. (I know what your thinking. Where’s he come up with this stuff?) Not found on any map I wouldn’t have known the place existed were it not for the road sign indicating it was up ahead. “Good,” I thought, I needed to take a quick bathroom break and pick me up a little thirst quencher with the temperature well into the 90s. I found the wide spot in the road with a few buildings encompassing an “R-V Park” and a little road-side store with a sign on top reading “Rome Station.” I was fortunate enough to find the picture at the top of this post of the very structure of which I write on the Internet, thanks to the Salem, Oregon Public Library. Who woulda thought! Although the photo was taken in 1963, let me tell ya, the building looks about the same! After securing the truck I approached and noticed a handwritten sign in one of the windows, “Customer Appreciation Day” it read. “Go around back for free food and refreshments. Music provided by the Sage Creek Band.” Wow! I thought, “My lucky day. Free food AND musical entertainment!”

As I walked around to the back of the building I noticed, among three large shade trees, a small group of people, some seated while others milled about and visited. I guessed there must have been about 40 people in all, men, women and children. Some were seated at an assortment of picnic tables and nearby were a couple of tables full of food. There was a large Bar-B-Que as well, manned by what could have been your “typical truck driver,” watching over a huge side of beef as it turned slowly and glistened from the sauce that had been applied. While I was looking at three large Igloo coolers of refreshment, in an effort to figure out what was inside, a young college-aged girl walked up and described what was contained in each, “Lemonade, iced tea and some kind of fruit punch.” I chose the lemonade and, as I’m often apt to do, struck up a conversation. She was from Rome (Oregon, not Italy) but going to school in Sacramento where her mom lives. Her dad owns the little store and she was visiting for “a week or so.” She said she loved coming home as it was so quiet at night. I asked her how many people live in Rome, to which she replied “Oh, probably about 30.” From the look of things I wasn’t the only “outsider.”

Looking around most of the men appeared to be the hard working rancher or farmer types I’ve come to know and appreciate since moving to Yakima. You could tell I wasn’t far off in my assumptions by not only the attire they wore, but by the conversations I overheard. “Lost one of my cattle yesterday” one said to another. Believe me when I say, these guys weren’t just “dressing up cowboy,” they were cowboy! The women, mothers of their children, helpmates and dutiful companions were engaged in their own conversations about cooking, family and home. “Salt of the earth” some would say.

After eating two helpings of food, along with several cups of lemonade, I returned to my table with yet another plate containing a mix of salads, (garden, potato and macaroni). Sitting down again I finally struck up a conversation with the older couple who had been sitting across from me. Their teenaged grandson it turns out was sitting to my left. We were the only ones at the table. I wish I had a camera as this 60ish gentleman who sat across from me had the kind of rugged and chiseled good looks you’d expect to see in a character from an old-west movie, right down to the hat he wore with the silver hair underneath. One of those “good guys” who’d probably end up dead mid-way through the second act. It turns out I was right when I thought to myself, “I bet this guy could tell you some interesting stories.”

After some chit-chat I learn his name is Glenn. He tells me he was born and raised right there in Rome. He spoke of his grandfather who came from “Missoura” in 1898 and built the first road in the area, just “a mile or so up the highway ... back when there was nothing and nobody here.” “And now there’s Rome!” he explained. I responded, “And Rome wasn’t built in a day, was it?” He replied, with a chuckle “No, it took two days!

Glenn went on to tell me (just a little) about the 25 years he spent in ”the Alaskan bush“ roping and corralling wild cattle "left there by Russians." He said there were years that would go by when he wouldn’t see a single human being, ”not a soul.“ After a few stints at other activities, including one on an Alaskan crab fishing boat, he’s been back home in Rome for the last five years or so. He now spends his time teaching his grandson the rapidly fading art of making arrowheads, which he sells to neighbors and passersby. As we parted and shook hands he mentioned that I should look for the ”Arrowheads“ sign up the road heading toward Jordan Valley and ”stop in sometime.“

Glenn’s writing a book about his experiences in the Alaskan wild using a computer and speech recognition software that he says works well. Good thing ‘cause he ”sure as heck can’t type.“ He relies not only on memory but his ”25 years of notes“ he kept during those solitary times. Mainly he says he’s writing his story for his posterity, so he won’t be forgotten. I don’t know if I’ll ever get a chance again to see Glenn, but I sure hope so. And if I do, I’ll be sure and ask if I can take his picture. By-the-way the Sage Creek Band? They weren’t bad at all. Lots of good old classic country music. Don Gibson, Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline. You know the kind.

As always thanks to all those who take the time to visit and especially for the compliments. We’ll ”talk“ again soon!

Finally My Own Truck!

On Tuesday afternoon June 26th after winding up my 42 days of mentor training and getting the paperwork and road test out of the way, I was directed outside the terminal building to a Freightliner truck looking for a new owner. My new Driver Manager (DM) handed me the keys and said “Here, go and check it out and see what you think.” Well to say the least I was excited but that quickly waned when I climbed inside the just freshly detailed cab and, after a couple of minutes figuring out how to start it, I realized it had nearly 756,000 miles! I was bummed! I hadn’t seen or heard of a company truck with as many miles. So after talking with a former fellow student who checked it out with me I decided to return to my D.M. “What do you think?” she asked. “Well, you know it’s got like 755,600 miles on it, and I was hoping for something a little newer, something I could look forward to fixing up and having for a while.” (I was hoping for something with maybe 300,000 miles or so, but as they say, “beggars can’t be choosers”). She mentioned that if I had a truck with that kind of mileage that I would be high on the list to get a new one (not necessarily a brand-new one), but she wasn’t sure when that might happen. It could be a month, or three or more months down the road. I wasn’t happy with the uncertainty, which of course wasn’t her fault, but I’m not one that likes to deal much in uncertainties.

So, I asked if there were any other options, and not batting an eye she said she’d speak to the guy in charge of assigning new drivers their trucks and see what other possibilities there might be. That didn’t take long as “the guy” sits about ten feet away. Within a few minutes the three of us got together and a number of options were reviewed. First, the company would pay me to ride a bus down to the Swift terminal in Lathorpe, Ca., where there was a truck available. (Not the most pleasant thought - a bus ride of that length). Secondly there was another truck down near Mountain Home, Idaho. They could probably get me a ride with another driver to rendezvous with it. There was another truck scheduled to come in to Lewiston later that night, but they knew nothing about it. “The guy” suggested I shouldn’t stand around waiting for it, as it could have a number of problems and be in the shop for days before it was drivable. So, I asked, “What would you do if you were me?” He suggested that I go pick up a truck somewhere, being pretty confident that at least it would be road worthy. (If your truck is moving you’re making money ... otherwise nada!)

Then my DM spoke of a truck in Caldwell, Id. that had been left there by a driver. Neither knew much information on any of the trucks. At least two of them were Freightliners and you could bet they were all high mileage, as it’s been several years since the company had purchased any. Then my DM told me she knew the Caldwell truck was a “fairly new” Volvo and she remembered that the driver was very happy when he got it as it didn’t have a lot of miles. She knew too that the driver had taken “meticulous care” off it. Weeelll ... that sounded like the best bet for me! So after one night and another half a day of trying to secure a ride down to Caldwell (a whole ‘nother story!) I was finally on board an older Freightliner with a driver named “Norm” for the five hour ride down south. Norm was headed for California and would drop me off along the way. My truck had been left at a truck stop that also serves as a “drop yard” for Swift trailers. I was told I would find the keys at the stop’s fuel desk. Once I had it, I could spend the night there and in the morning hook up an empty trailer and make the trek back to Lewiston. I needed a day to get my things in it and spend a little time setting her up. My DM was more than accommodating.

We arrived at the truck stop at about 10:30 p.m. Wednesday. It was dark as we drove the long line of trailers but in the short distance we could see a Volvo, which most likely would be my new truck. Confirming the correct truck number, that it was indeed the truck I had come to retrieve, the first thing I noticed was that it had a skylight above the cab. Not all of them do, but this one did and that was a plus! As we drew closer I could see that it appeared, from the outside anyway, to be in very good condition. Finally after unlocking the front driver’s door I climbed in. I was shocked! This truck looked and smelled like a new rig! Plastic still protecting the top bunk mattress and on the carpeting below. Quickly I started her up and fumbling with the in-dash electronic read-out I found that it had 117,914 miles on it. Now that may sound like a lot but with a long-haul truck it’s really very little. Just barely broken in! For all intents and purposes this truck was brand new! I was giddy! I couldn’t believe my luck! All the way down I worried whether I had made the right decision, as this was one I would have to live with for a while. My worries, as all of those so far during this journey have been, were a waste of time! I was so excited that my plans to spend the night before returning to Lewiston were put aside. I wanted to drive my new truck right now! I wanted to feel the freedom that was in store for me and experience what it all would be like to hit the open road with no one calling the shots, ‘cept me. Unfortunately I had forgotten to bring my flashlight and it was just too dark to find an empty trailer. I resigned myself to organizing what few things I had brought along, reading up on the truck manuals, and bedding down for the night.

I didn’t get much sleep as I kept waking up and checking out things I hadn’t thought of before. How do I get the idle to stay on? How does this work? Where do I put my things? What do all those symbols on the bright dash display mean? What am I going to do with all this space! Finally the next morning at 6:45 the moment I had waited for, for so long had finally arrived. I gingerly hooked up an empty trailer, checking and double checking the connections, and, after getting my log book in order, I slowly drove truck #300294 the short distance across the dirt lot and onto I-84N beginning the mostly scenic 270 mile trip back to Lewiston.

The next day Friday the 29th was spent getting all my belongings from my car and organizing them. Among other chores I had the truck washed (on the company dime) and then got to spend some time with my Academy roommate Thomas who just finished up with his mentor. He’ll be taking a week or so off to return to his home in Montana before getting his own truck assignment. We’re still planning to hook up together on a number of excursions around the country in the months ahead. Once we’ve got our feet on firm ground, and a few weeks behind the wheel, we’ll look at making some firm plans.

I’ve spent nearly all that I have for some food and other supplies from Wal-Mart (Yep, my life has deteriorated to this) with just a few dollars left for some shopping at a truck stop along the way. I need a road atlas, a three pound hammer, and a couple of other “tools of the trade” to get me through the next few days until payday on Tuesday. The road beyond looks bright and I’ve got my sunglasses on for the miles that lie ahead across the northern Nevada desert. The oldies keep coming from my radio with the Beach Boys in the background. Wow, and to think I get paid for this!

The truck pictured above is very similar to my own, except mine is white in color. Would have preferred the red but Swift thinks otherwise. Hope to have a good digital camera soon, so I can show the real thing. Thanks for checking in, there's more coming soon!

Independence Day!

Hard to believe, but I have just one day left to go in my training before being assigned my own truck. Sometime tomorrow morning my mentor and I, as a team, will be rolling one last time into Lewiston, Idaho. My 42 days of road instruction will come to a close and in just a day or two I should have my own truck and officially a solo company driver.

While we could have easily pressed on last night and arrived back in Lewiston early today, for the first time since hitting the road on Saturday April 12th, we are actually “killing time” on the road in order to finish this trip on my final day of training. So, after arriving early this morning at a Pilot Truck Stop along Interstate 90, some 175 miles east of Missoula, we’ve parked our trusty Kenworth and are enjoying a good 20+ hours of sleep and relaxation. A little less than 500 miles separates us from our final destination. We’ll leave sometime late tonight, with me behind the wheel, to complete the journey and bring our long travels together to an end.

My mentor has taught me a lot, based on his 34 years and more than 4-million miles of long-haul truck driving. His work as an on-the-job instructor is nearly over but our friendship will continue on. Along with my roommate Thomas from the Academy, who I’ve kept in regular contact with, Dennis no doubt will remain a good friend and advisor. He’s gone well beyond my expectations and has, over these last six-plus weeks, watched over me and my welfare. He’s shown great patience as I’ve ground and tested the gears of his $110,000 truck and missed exits and routing along the way. Right now as he sleeps in the back I’m sitting in the air conditioned front cab writing this post. I’ve been lucky to have been taught by one of the best and to have spent these long days of driving behind the wheel of a new 8-speed Kenworth truck. I will often be reminded of Dennis’ wisdom and his advice as I travel in the days ahead.

It’s been 75 days since I drove the slightly more than 200 miles to Lewiston from my “home” in Yakima and it’s been a whirlwind experience and quite the journey, to say the least! A lot has certainly changed in my life. The Swift Academy and it’s accelerated training, to prepare me to receive my Class “A” Commercial Drivers License, was a big challenge all in itself. It’s something I’ve written about in my earlier entries. Then for the last 6 weeks it’s been a menu of “real world” long-haul trucking. In our 41 days together Dennis and I have driven more than 30,000 miles crisscrossing 16 states and numerous cities and communities along the way. I’ve climbed tall mountain passes and driven along some of the west’s most beautiful canyons along the Snake and Columbia Rivers. I’ve been on a two-lane stretch of road so close to California’s Mt. Shasta, it was if I could have reached out and touched it. A far cry from the view one sees from Interstate 5. We’ve covered the entire northern states from Washington to Wisconsin. We’ve travelled south as far as Illinois and Indiana returning to the west coast via Iowa and Nebraska. We’ve hauled everything from trailer loads of empty tin cans and Ocean Spray Cranberry Juice to huge 4500 pound rolls of paper. We’ve visited a Tracy, California pet food manufacturer, that didn’t smell so nice, and a large detergent distributor in Salt Lake with the mixed aroma of a load of freshly washed clothes as well as dishes.

During these past several weeks I’ve often thought as I drive, “I can’t believe I get paid to do this!” I’ve seen some of the most picturesque sights. Among them numerous small mid western American towns. Communities dotted with farms and quiet tree-lined streets with beautiful white steepled churches and little school houses. I’ve also passed their proud high schools with their football stadiums and seen the little cemeteries where they bury their dead. One can only imagine the history and the people that have passed through these towns.

During our last trip through mid Iowa I was driving along westbound state highway 18, not far from our connection with Interstate 35 near Mason City. I couldn’t help but notice the varying shades of green grass and the differing crops and farms that blanket the flat landscape there. I’m reminded of one sign I saw for a nearby community; “Welcome to Rudd. Not bigger, just better!” America is truly a blessed country and a wonderful place to visit. Often in our day to day lives we become cocooned within our own communities and surroundings. We forget that there are a lot of people with diverse lifestyles and a great big world out there.

Shortly after the drive through Iowa I found myself meandering along Interstate 90 and through the “Badlands” and “Black Hills” region of South Dakota. Along the way and seen from the freeway are scattered a few authentic old west towns that look just as they did in the 1880s. Among them, and close to Rapid City, is the once lawless and infamous town of “Deadwood.” You may know this as the place where the popular HBO television series of the same title was set. Deadwood is famous for it’s old west reputation and ripe history along with it’s colorful inhabitants. It’s where in 1876 Wild Bill Hickok in Saloon No. 10 met his doom with a bullet to the back of his head. Apparently next to Hickok’s grave in Deadwood can also be seen the final resting place of frontierswoman Calamity Jane.

I also saw a tourist attraction along the same stretch of Interstate 80 at a casino where you could see movie props from the Kevin Costner film, “Dances With Wolves,” as well as some of his other movies. “Dances” is among my favorites and apparently the movie was filmed at a state park in nearby Custer. Kostner owns the casino and found interest in it while shooting the movie. Not far too is the famous Mt. Rushmore National Memorial. While I haven’t had the opportunity to explore these sights as a team driver, I’m hoping that as a solo driver I’ll be able to take at least some advantage.

Late last Tuesday night we spent a couple of hours at Walcott, Iowa and “the world’s largest truck stop.” Just west of Davenport the “Iowa 80 Truck Stop” is a truck driver’s department store of sorts and a modern multi-level grown-up’s toy store. It includes elevators and several floors of shopping space as well as a number of trucks on display in their main “showroom” along with the absolute best showers I’ve experienced to date! Nearly anything you’d want to buy as a long-haul trucker is available at the store or through their catalog. Their parking lot was huge with room for over 800 trucks.

It’s amazing that what I once feared, I now love. I can remember, in my first few days on the road, dreading the thought of driving the two lane highways through the numerous communities, valleys and hills one has to navigate. These are conditions that test a low-mileage trucker versus the relative ease of traveling the Interstate, with no stop signs or traffic lights to encumber your progress. I worried about the constant slowing down I would encounter along the way and the fact that I would have to downshift the truck frequently to control my speed as well as the engine RPMs. It was difficult to say the least, but now, with the miles of experience behind me, I actually look forward to the challenge, and the change in scenery, one experiences on these secondary roadways. I certainly haven’t perfected the process of shifting but am well on my way. The same can be said for backing these trucks and trailers into those spaces separated by just inches between other trailers and 18-wheelers. I’m far from perfection in this process as well but know that, with additional time and practice, I’ll be able to handle the challenge. It’s like I told Dennis last night, “I don’t want to be just a truck driver, I want to be a darn good one!”

To wrap things up, it’s been a great experience. Not an easy one for sure, and in fact far harder than I expected. But I’ve had a good time none-the-less. There were admittedly a few times -- early on -- when I wondered, “Is this really what I want to do?” Now with nearly 15,000 miles of personal long-haul driving experience behind me I’m definitely happy with my decision. I’ve come to the realization that I don’t have to do this job ... I get to!

In the weeks and months ahead I have a lot to look forward to. Among them, renewing old friendships as well as family relationships. My early plans include a trip, with time off, in the Washington D.C. area where I grew up and went to high school. A new-found friend awaits my visit there. I’m hoping to not only visit some of the areas where I lived, but to see Arlington National Cemetery, as well as the White House and other attractions while there. After that it’ll be on to Swift company headquarters in Phoenix for some required simulator training and a few days to visit my son and new daughter in-law as well as other family and good friends. The company store also will get a visit! Then I’m hoping to once again head back east, this time to Akron, Ohio. There I’ll visit my only surviving uncle and his wife of more than 60 years along with their family. He’s among that “greatest generation” and truly an American hero who, along with thousands of other soldiers, fought for their lives on June 6, 1944 to take back France’s Omaha Beach from the occupying forces of Germany. It was the beginning of the end for the Nazis and their occupation of Europe. Finally in early September I’m planning a weekend visit with one of my best friends from the Seattle area. Only this time we’ll be in New Jersey where he’ll be on a job assignment. We’re looking forward to a weekend in the big Apple and whatever else meets our fancy over the two and a half days. Other places, friends and family are in my plans for the remainder of the year.

Finally, thanks again to all those who regularly visit this blog and send me messages of support. I’m surprised to see that there are folks who visit regularly from not only many unexpected places around the country, but from various locations around the world. It would be nice to know who you are and what brings you to my little spot on the World Wide Web. Please take a moment to say hello and to ask questions or leave comments should you be so inclined. I’m not sure where the next few days will lead, but you can be sure that I’ll document much of what I see, do and think within these pages all along the way. We’ll “talk” again soon!