1,611 or Bust

I hadn’t planned on my home time stretching out to January 13, but it did. When you drive a truck that has 860,000 miles on the odometer, it needs attention on a regular basis. My fuel lines froze in the very cold weather and there were other repair issues that needed to be attended to which prolonged my stay at the homestead. On the positive side, I don’t think anyone on their deathbed says “I wish I would have worked more and spent less time with my family.”


Towing the truck was a major undertaking and took 2 hours to hook up and drag 5 miles to Pike Diesel Repair in Hiram. The shop owner, Jerry, assured me that he’d get me running as soon as possible. My silver lining was that the breakdown occurred in my home area and not some place like the Bronx, New York. The lot at Pike was jammed full of tractor trucks begging for repair. The cold weather it seemed gave me lots of company.

Finally, The Fat Cat was ready to go and she purred like a kitten at the Petro Stop in Atlanta as I awaited an opportunity of freight. The Qualcomm chirped out a trip from Murphy, North Carolina in the mountainous west part of the state to Urbana, Ohio, just west of Columbus. The downside of the trip would be a winding and hilly ride out of Carolina at night because I-40 is in a long term shut down westbound, caused by a major rock slide. It not only sent large boulders onto the roadway from steep grades, but ended up damaging the highway severely. Tennessee 69 was the alternate for my trip and had me wishing I was driving a sports car, instead of a truck on a roadway with more hair pins than a beauty shop.

Once in Ohio, I bounced to Detroit and then over to Ann Arbor, where I had a nice stay in November. They always say “be careful for what you wish for, for you just might get it.” Well, I got it. I rubbed the “Load Genie Lamp” and was granted a cannon ball run from Coldwater, Michigan to Laredo, Texas. Success! My frozen body would thaw and warm 70 degree sunshine would shine on my face. Fit me in a sombrero and provide me with a taco. With that thought, it was on the road to my reward.

Sixteen hundred and eleven miles of interstate droned and by the time I got to the end of Interstate 35, I was like a man in the desert laid prone on the ground reaching for the oasis. One minute I’m stone throwing distance from Canada, the next, I’m sitting on the southern border at the Rio Grande. This was my third trip to Laredo. Always hot, always kind of quirky regarding some of the people I’ve talked to and always very Mexican, considering its proximity to our neighbor to the south. Mexican works for me because I can speak Spanish, enjoy the food and I would actually wear a poncho like Clint Eastwood.

The nighttime air was 50ish, the coolest I’ve experienced there so far. After enduring plenty of record cold elsewhere, this was indeed a treat! My load delivered on Sunday morning where sunshine and 70 degree weather shined down on me, just like I pictured it.

Not much freight comes out of Laredo. It is primarily a drop off point for goods heading into Mexico. There aren’t many companies that send trucks into Mexico these days. It’s just too dangerous, especially around border cities on the Mexican side. The area is dotted with numerous warehouses where the hand off to Mexican truckers occurs. It is an orderly operation and hundreds of trucks cue up at the truck stops to deliver at their appointed times.

Now that my load was deposited, I pointed the Fat Cat to San Antonio for a new destination. It’s a very straight shot to San Antonio with scrubby looking, desert-like landscape dotted with classic ranch entrances displaying various brands that get stamped into the livestock. I like this drive. There are no hills, congested traffic, ice or snow. Set the cruise control and let the XM play.

Like clockwork as I pulled into Alamo Town, the Qualcomm chirped out a run from the next town up in Austin to White Sands Missile Range, New Mexico. My first thought was landing three cherries on a one armed bandit. I opened the map and it said “Not Open to the Public” at White Sands. Give me restricted places around Roswell, Area 51, Cape Canaveral, Edwards Air Force Base and other places where the security is as tight as the back end of a clam, and I’m there! I live for this stuff. After all, I’m the guy who has a profound interest in the National Institute for Standard Time (NIST). I want to know exactly where the Camak Stone is. What really happed to D.B. Cooper? It sure beats delivering ball bearings to Flint. I knew from the location of my New Mexico destination, I’d be layed over in El Paso, Texas. I like El Paso, so this would be a win-win deal. Maybe California would be next.