This week is turning out to be a Texas week. My Dad once said to me "you will never have to ask a man if he's from Texas, he will tell you." In my travels, I've found that to be very true. Texas isn't just another state, it's a way of life. Big. Texas size. There is a mileage sign near the eastern point near Beaumont that says "El Paso 857". That's 857 as in miles. If you're counting, that's about a 13 hour trip before you hit New Mexico. I think the state put it up for pride. I've never seen a mileage sign with that many miles. It's interesting to me to see exits that begin in the 800's. That's a lot of exits travelling across the state.
The natives must have been crushed all those years ago when Alaska was admitted to the Union, displacing the Lone Star state as the largest land area state. But, you wouldn't know it from the attitude in the state. There are "Don't Mess With Texas" souvenirs all over the place. In Burger King, it's not just a Double Whopper, it's a Texas Double Whopper. I didn't get to measure it, but it looked bigger than all the other burgers on the menu. I saw a Texas cigar that was about two feet long with a sizable girth. It appeared to be an all day smoke.
This is a place of no nonsense. Texas law rules. I think the Sadaam Hussein figured that one out. Homeboy and resident Tator, Ron White said "in Texas, we've got an expressway to death row. If you kill somebody, we'll kill you back.." I've always had a wary feeling for states that require license plates on both ends of a vehicle. Texas is one of them. You don't test the law in Texas. There are also rules to follow. If you want to play in Texas, you've got to have a fiddle in the band. I think Randy Owens from Alabama became enlightened to that notion.
I've spent part of the week in Houston. It's my second time through, except this time, I got to make a delivery here and stay for a bit. The city is laid out well and the roads are marked clearly with street signs and painting in the roadways on the interstates, telling you what lane you need to be in for an upcoming turn. I wish I had more time to check out Galveston and Corpus Christi. Although still recovering from hurricane Ike, it's supposed to be a great place. Give me a beach and water anytime!
Today, I'm back in Laredo. There seems to be a decidedly Mexican attribute to a lot of the locals. There is a lot of Spanish spoken. I just made a delivery for the Mexicans to pick up and take south. The last time I was here in July, it was 107 degrees. They had a record breaking summer with countless days over 100..and one day at 115. Today, the weather has been quite nice, breezy and sunny, in the 70's in the morning..but it will toast up in the afternoon and that screen door from H E double toothpicks will swing open. I'll be following the shadows all day. Parts of the town looks like what you'd picture the Mexican border to look like with tumble weed, cactus and scrubby looking vegetation with sandy kind of soil. I didn't see my friend in the Hawaiian shirt, who I encountered on the earlier trip...the guy who complained about being photographed from outer space by the government. They must have beamed him up.
When you think of "Tex-Mex", this is the place. Taquerias dot the landscape all the way to Houston. These are restaurants that vary in size from a portable trailer to a regular sit down restaurant. I haven't been yet, but Tacos look to be the fare of choice. I love tacos and plan on partaking in the Texas experience before I depart! If you like Mexican fare, you wouldn't have a hard time finding it here. I'd like to find some of those burrito type things that come wrapped in corn husks.
In all, I like Texas. It seems to be a destination that I hope to frequent in the raw, cold winter months. There are palm trees all over the place...so, I figure it can't get too nippy here. The people are friendly and cheerful. I'll enjoy my time in Texas, just give me enough cold tea and shade. Where ever you are, I hope it's a great day for you.
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Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
Kentucky
Just as I criss-crossed Iowa 4 times a few weeks ago, it was Kentucky's turn this past week. I got to thinking and came to the realization that Kentucky is famous for a lot of things that could hurt you. Some rather quickly and others at a slower, more deliberate pace. Ok, let's run down the list. As the Bluegrass State is home of the Kentucky Derby, there are plenty of horses everywhere. I could smell manure in an urban setting at a fuel island at a truck stop...it overrode the diesel fumes. Impressive, especially since I didn't actually see the horses. You could fall off a horse, receive a swift shoe in the face, get a bite with over-size teeth...it's all got to hurt. We're not talking' Mr. Ed here.
Next up, it's the Louisville Slugger. For those of you who are not baseball fans, it's a bat. A very good bat. Millions of Little Leaguers past and present will tell all about a Louisville Slugger. So will gang members, street hoodlums, store owners and truckers who have their own version to beat on tires to see if they're inflated correctly. They sell the trucker version in truck stops and call it a "tire tester". Yeah, right. Test it on your head if you come in my truck un-announced.
Then there's Kentucky Fried Chicken. Extra Crispy? A cholesterol bomb in every bite. Let's get a bucket and get started. They even came out with a grilled version recently to appease the critics.
Kentucky Women. There's probably more songs about Kentucky Women than any other state. The Judds, that native Kentuckian mother and daughter country music duo, look like they could ride rough shod over any man. How about the song " Kentucky Rain" ? Poor Elvis chased all over the state in the cold rain for one who left him. He had no idea why she left, not even a clue. He didn't even have a car. She probably drove off in it along with his heart. He had to hitch a ride from a preacher man. Couldn’t find her. No luck. Neil Diamond had his own version of a Kentucky woman. A friend of mine once said a Kentucky woman damn near killed him. If he ever got involved with another, she would probably finish the job.
And should we not forget Kentucky Bourbon. We all know what hard liquor can do. There's a reason they call it "hard". Yeah, that fine sipping' gentleman's choice. Me and bourbon don't get along. Many years ago, a summertime thunderstorm on someone's lawn woke me up from a chance encounter with fine Kentucky Bourbon. In Kentucky, they advertise a "Bourbon Trail" on official DOT signs on the interstates. I haven't figured that one out yet, but I wonder if you need ambulatory assistance at trail terminus.
Last, but not least, there were the Hatfields and McCoys. The famous family feud. Mostly, they were hurting each other. I believe the Hatfield's lived on the Kentucky side and the McCoys on the West Virginia side.
Other than all things I've mentioned, it's a beautiful state with friendly people. There's plenty of tall fescue type grass, neatly manicured with a bluish tint to it. They even had to put the Greater Cincinnati Airport is in Northern Kentucky. If you visit Ft. Knox, in Kentucky, I suppose one of those gold bars would hurt too, if you dropped it on your foot..
Next up, it's the Louisville Slugger. For those of you who are not baseball fans, it's a bat. A very good bat. Millions of Little Leaguers past and present will tell all about a Louisville Slugger. So will gang members, street hoodlums, store owners and truckers who have their own version to beat on tires to see if they're inflated correctly. They sell the trucker version in truck stops and call it a "tire tester". Yeah, right. Test it on your head if you come in my truck un-announced.
Then there's Kentucky Fried Chicken. Extra Crispy? A cholesterol bomb in every bite. Let's get a bucket and get started. They even came out with a grilled version recently to appease the critics.
Kentucky Women. There's probably more songs about Kentucky Women than any other state. The Judds, that native Kentuckian mother and daughter country music duo, look like they could ride rough shod over any man. How about the song " Kentucky Rain" ? Poor Elvis chased all over the state in the cold rain for one who left him. He had no idea why she left, not even a clue. He didn't even have a car. She probably drove off in it along with his heart. He had to hitch a ride from a preacher man. Couldn’t find her. No luck. Neil Diamond had his own version of a Kentucky woman. A friend of mine once said a Kentucky woman damn near killed him. If he ever got involved with another, she would probably finish the job.
And should we not forget Kentucky Bourbon. We all know what hard liquor can do. There's a reason they call it "hard". Yeah, that fine sipping' gentleman's choice. Me and bourbon don't get along. Many years ago, a summertime thunderstorm on someone's lawn woke me up from a chance encounter with fine Kentucky Bourbon. In Kentucky, they advertise a "Bourbon Trail" on official DOT signs on the interstates. I haven't figured that one out yet, but I wonder if you need ambulatory assistance at trail terminus.
Last, but not least, there were the Hatfields and McCoys. The famous family feud. Mostly, they were hurting each other. I believe the Hatfield's lived on the Kentucky side and the McCoys on the West Virginia side.
Other than all things I've mentioned, it's a beautiful state with friendly people. There's plenty of tall fescue type grass, neatly manicured with a bluish tint to it. They even had to put the Greater Cincinnati Airport is in Northern Kentucky. If you visit Ft. Knox, in Kentucky, I suppose one of those gold bars would hurt too, if you dropped it on your foot..
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Alabama
Wednesday came and it was back out there, on the road again. This trip would be short and sweet. The company needed us to make a special delivery of electronic goods and appliances. A small army of my company's trucks descended on a massive warehouse, south of Atlanta to take goods everywhere. You would have thought I was transporting blocks of gold with the level of security in this place. There was a gate with guards letting one truck at a time though, and only if their paperwork checked out. And...you weren't getting out, until all the paperwork was scrutinized. They pasted sealed load tape all over the back of my truck and clamped a door seal along with my padlocks. No peeking! But, ha! I have a camera inside my cargo hold trained on what is loaded :-) Actually, there are three video cameras on board. One on the right side to cover my blind spot and one on the back, so I can see the loading dock come up while backing. The ordeal lasted for an hour and a half. Ordeal, yeah right. I'm actually very happy to be doing this.
This wouldn't be a long trip, because the plan is for me to get a new truck. This one was coming out of service. I need to get the new one from the other side of town and then I'm scheduled to take it to company HQ for inspection and labeling in Ohio early next week. This one will be a Freightliner and the condo cab is supposed to be bigger.
My destination was Birmingham, Alabama. It doesn't get any easier or quicker from Atlanta. I always like going to Alabama. Every time, I manage to have some sort of pleasant exchange with an Alabaman. Alabama is much laid back compared to Georgia...at least metro Atlanta. Southern charm lives here. Most of the locals I meet are a bright and sunny people, and ready to talk about anything, anytime, anywhere. I cruised into the Flying J just north of B-ham about 9:20pm. I grabbed a two for one pizza deal with a juicy juice red Hawaiian Punch. One of the waitresses from the restaurant was sitting at the next table. I smiled and said hello and she proudly announced in her thick heart of Dixie accent that I needed to try the freshest catfish ever. She held her hands about two feet apart to demonstrate the size of a monstrous sea urchin with a big grin. I replied that I would indeed shoot for some catfish the next day. A fish as big as she described would HAVE to be shot :-0
It was a breezy and pleasant night with an almost full moon in the sky..and time for the obligatory puff on the Medco Birchwood. I discovered a young black and white cat in the bushes near the entrance. Her coloring made her look like a little cow, the way the black part of her fur was arranged like a jersey heifer. She looked like she was having fun pawing at a cricket. I want to bring all the cats home, but this one needed to stay here.
A goateed fellow driver sat down at the round wooden picnic table where I was stationed and proceeded to opine that all the world's problems were because of Obama. Well, I guess after 8 years of blaming Bush for everything from one side, now the other has the opportunity. I was too tired to agree, or disagree. I was in a state of ambivalence. He went on his merry way after figuring out that he wasn't going to get much of a response from me. Besides, my congressman, Rep. John Linder, wrote and introduced HR 25, The Fair Tax initiative. That would have been way too much discussion for this poor tired soul.
The next morning was a perfect Alabama morning for July. The day was still breezy and sunny to perfection. Now it was time to dump off the gold bars on Florence Street.
Mission accomplished. It now was time to head up I-59 to Chattanooga and dump off the truck and gets a rental car back to Dallas, GA. I love going up 59. It's Alabama at its best. The scenery offers rolling hills and some good size eastern mountains, especially around Ft. Payne, the home of the musical group Alabama. I stopped around noontime just north of Weiss Lake for a leg stretch and some lunch at a small BP with a terrific little restaurant. Greeting me from behind the counter was a smiling Persian fellow telling me he had the freshest catfish for lunch! My chance was at hand. I said, I've been dreaming of catfish all day and that would be great. He offered me his spiced steak fries and promised to fry up a fresh batch, just for me. I sat at a booth table and ate the tasty fries, waiting for Alabama’s finest. After about 10 minutes he proudly presented a plate of perfectly battered, spiced and fried catfish. It was out of this world. Today, I am a better person for having had my lunch there. It was the pinnacle of my trip.
I said goodbye to my truck in Chattanooga and ended up at the Hertz rental counter at the airport in Chattanooga. Ms Poteet was helpful and put me into a zippy Toyota Rav 4 for the jaunt home. I got in the car and it was just in time for the Braves and Rockies in Denver. Don Sutton and Mark Lemke serenaded me home on Project 9-6-1 with an always knowledgeable account of the play by play. There's nothing more relaxing to me that listening to baseball on the radio, especially Braves baseball. Our commentators are the best.
Almost at the homestead, Streisy texted me and said "where r u?" I almost replied, "Im here, up the street", when better sense overcame me and I just hit speed dial for her and actually talked to her. That younger generation, text maniacs!
I grabbed a few necessary bags and made my way in to the gathering cats. It took a little while, but even sleepy head Louie came out with a wildly wagging tail. Today, I'm home again 'till the next trip. Word around the company is that it is getting very busy out there...especially on the east coast. A trip to Maine right now, would hit the sweet spot.
This wouldn't be a long trip, because the plan is for me to get a new truck. This one was coming out of service. I need to get the new one from the other side of town and then I'm scheduled to take it to company HQ for inspection and labeling in Ohio early next week. This one will be a Freightliner and the condo cab is supposed to be bigger.
My destination was Birmingham, Alabama. It doesn't get any easier or quicker from Atlanta. I always like going to Alabama. Every time, I manage to have some sort of pleasant exchange with an Alabaman. Alabama is much laid back compared to Georgia...at least metro Atlanta. Southern charm lives here. Most of the locals I meet are a bright and sunny people, and ready to talk about anything, anytime, anywhere. I cruised into the Flying J just north of B-ham about 9:20pm. I grabbed a two for one pizza deal with a juicy juice red Hawaiian Punch. One of the waitresses from the restaurant was sitting at the next table. I smiled and said hello and she proudly announced in her thick heart of Dixie accent that I needed to try the freshest catfish ever. She held her hands about two feet apart to demonstrate the size of a monstrous sea urchin with a big grin. I replied that I would indeed shoot for some catfish the next day. A fish as big as she described would HAVE to be shot :-0
It was a breezy and pleasant night with an almost full moon in the sky..and time for the obligatory puff on the Medco Birchwood. I discovered a young black and white cat in the bushes near the entrance. Her coloring made her look like a little cow, the way the black part of her fur was arranged like a jersey heifer. She looked like she was having fun pawing at a cricket. I want to bring all the cats home, but this one needed to stay here.
A goateed fellow driver sat down at the round wooden picnic table where I was stationed and proceeded to opine that all the world's problems were because of Obama. Well, I guess after 8 years of blaming Bush for everything from one side, now the other has the opportunity. I was too tired to agree, or disagree. I was in a state of ambivalence. He went on his merry way after figuring out that he wasn't going to get much of a response from me. Besides, my congressman, Rep. John Linder, wrote and introduced HR 25, The Fair Tax initiative. That would have been way too much discussion for this poor tired soul.
The next morning was a perfect Alabama morning for July. The day was still breezy and sunny to perfection. Now it was time to dump off the gold bars on Florence Street.
Mission accomplished. It now was time to head up I-59 to Chattanooga and dump off the truck and gets a rental car back to Dallas, GA. I love going up 59. It's Alabama at its best. The scenery offers rolling hills and some good size eastern mountains, especially around Ft. Payne, the home of the musical group Alabama. I stopped around noontime just north of Weiss Lake for a leg stretch and some lunch at a small BP with a terrific little restaurant. Greeting me from behind the counter was a smiling Persian fellow telling me he had the freshest catfish for lunch! My chance was at hand. I said, I've been dreaming of catfish all day and that would be great. He offered me his spiced steak fries and promised to fry up a fresh batch, just for me. I sat at a booth table and ate the tasty fries, waiting for Alabama’s finest. After about 10 minutes he proudly presented a plate of perfectly battered, spiced and fried catfish. It was out of this world. Today, I am a better person for having had my lunch there. It was the pinnacle of my trip.
I said goodbye to my truck in Chattanooga and ended up at the Hertz rental counter at the airport in Chattanooga. Ms Poteet was helpful and put me into a zippy Toyota Rav 4 for the jaunt home. I got in the car and it was just in time for the Braves and Rockies in Denver. Don Sutton and Mark Lemke serenaded me home on Project 9-6-1 with an always knowledgeable account of the play by play. There's nothing more relaxing to me that listening to baseball on the radio, especially Braves baseball. Our commentators are the best.
Almost at the homestead, Streisy texted me and said "where r u?" I almost replied, "Im here, up the street", when better sense overcame me and I just hit speed dial for her and actually talked to her. That younger generation, text maniacs!
I grabbed a few necessary bags and made my way in to the gathering cats. It took a little while, but even sleepy head Louie came out with a wildly wagging tail. Today, I'm home again 'till the next trip. Word around the company is that it is getting very busy out there...especially on the east coast. A trip to Maine right now, would hit the sweet spot.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Barney
Thursday, July 16. I met the owners, Pat and Wes back at the Petro, off I-285 in Atlanta at 10:30 AM sharp. It's a huge complex and the trucks fuel up in what seems like a mile from the restaurant up front. No normal, everyday people beyond the checkpoint in this place. You have to have a Commercial License to get in the back of this place. Truck after truck pulls up in the fuel islands and the nozzles come out like six guns on either side to pump into dueling tanks. The smell of diesel is commanding. They have a large section for cab air...a big yellow, dryer-like hose that hooks up to a truck's window. It offers hot or cool air conditioning, electric, cable TV or high speed internet. They do that so a driver doesn't have to run his truck for lengthy periods of time to get air and power on layovers. The costs vary, but it's around $10 bucks a night.
My truck isn't new. But, it's new to me. I now have a Freightliner Century Class. It's a few years old, but in nice shape and it runs well. The air blows good and cold it has all the basic necessities that a dude like me needs on the road. My satellite radio sounds good in it. The clutch is a wee bit temperamental. But, she's strong and muscular with a big fat Cat diesel motor. I like the Cat. (Ain't that ironic :-)
When I saw what color it was, my lips kind of puckered like I just bit into a fresh lemon. Yellow would have been hip. Red is a great Georgia color, Bull Dawgs and all. Nah...everybody's got a red one. I had a white one. White is good in the heat. Black is H E double toothpicks to keep clean. Silver, too boring. I would have liked tan or light brown, but I'm not driving for CRST. Drivers refer to them as the "Crash and Roll Stunt Team". No thanks. Orange is reserved for the Schneider National hot shots. I've only seen green on one company. Well, the first thing I said when I stood in front of it for the first time was "Streisy is going to love the color of this truck." It's her favorite color. Hands down. Two things came to mind when I saw it for the first time. It's a beast....and it's Barney! Yes, my friends, it's p u r p l e. Dam. I had visions of easter...and baskets filled with lots of dyed eggs placed neatly around fake grass. I thought of Welch's grape juice. I imagined myself holding my breath and what color I would turn. Oh, man, I'm the pretty boy on the block now. Crap. With all I've got to put up with, idiots on the road, bad weather, traffic, tight travel and delivery times...and now I get to do it in a purple dinosaur that sings "I love you, you love me..." The Truck gods have surely frowned on me.
Pat reassured me. Just drive it for a while. We'll have a Peterbuilt for you soon. OK, where do I sign for it? So, I got it home and pulled it into the driveway and up near the barn. Streisy came out and clapped her hands with a goody, goody...a PURPLE truck, a PURPLE truck! I nailed that part. She couldn't wait to climb up into it like there were Christmas presents inside. In the end, if Streisy is happy, I'm happy. I'll drive this thing thinking of her delight in the presence of purple. I'm glad she doesn't like pink better. In fact, I did see one pink one out there. The biggest, meanest looking trucker mamma climbed out of that one at the Flying J in Omaha. She had Arnold Schwarzenegger biceps. All the guys watching, kind of turned away and pretended they weren't paying attention, when she climbed out walked toward us. This woman would have broken any one of us in half.
Me and Barney go into service tomorrow. Maybe another trip to Colorado? Purple mountain's majesty? This might be good :-)
My truck isn't new. But, it's new to me. I now have a Freightliner Century Class. It's a few years old, but in nice shape and it runs well. The air blows good and cold it has all the basic necessities that a dude like me needs on the road. My satellite radio sounds good in it. The clutch is a wee bit temperamental. But, she's strong and muscular with a big fat Cat diesel motor. I like the Cat. (Ain't that ironic :-)
When I saw what color it was, my lips kind of puckered like I just bit into a fresh lemon. Yellow would have been hip. Red is a great Georgia color, Bull Dawgs and all. Nah...everybody's got a red one. I had a white one. White is good in the heat. Black is H E double toothpicks to keep clean. Silver, too boring. I would have liked tan or light brown, but I'm not driving for CRST. Drivers refer to them as the "Crash and Roll Stunt Team". No thanks. Orange is reserved for the Schneider National hot shots. I've only seen green on one company. Well, the first thing I said when I stood in front of it for the first time was "Streisy is going to love the color of this truck." It's her favorite color. Hands down. Two things came to mind when I saw it for the first time. It's a beast....and it's Barney! Yes, my friends, it's p u r p l e. Dam. I had visions of easter...and baskets filled with lots of dyed eggs placed neatly around fake grass. I thought of Welch's grape juice. I imagined myself holding my breath and what color I would turn. Oh, man, I'm the pretty boy on the block now. Crap. With all I've got to put up with, idiots on the road, bad weather, traffic, tight travel and delivery times...and now I get to do it in a purple dinosaur that sings "I love you, you love me..." The Truck gods have surely frowned on me.
Pat reassured me. Just drive it for a while. We'll have a Peterbuilt for you soon. OK, where do I sign for it? So, I got it home and pulled it into the driveway and up near the barn. Streisy came out and clapped her hands with a goody, goody...a PURPLE truck, a PURPLE truck! I nailed that part. She couldn't wait to climb up into it like there were Christmas presents inside. In the end, if Streisy is happy, I'm happy. I'll drive this thing thinking of her delight in the presence of purple. I'm glad she doesn't like pink better. In fact, I did see one pink one out there. The biggest, meanest looking trucker mamma climbed out of that one at the Flying J in Omaha. She had Arnold Schwarzenegger biceps. All the guys watching, kind of turned away and pretended they weren't paying attention, when she climbed out walked toward us. This woman would have broken any one of us in half.
Me and Barney go into service tomorrow. Maybe another trip to Colorado? Purple mountain's majesty? This might be good :-)
Monday, June 29, 2009
From The Frying Pan to The Fire
Monday started with end of a nice stay in Denver. What a relief, the weather was great after a very hot week every place I was. The company "moved" me to Chicago for a new load assignment. So, I travelled back across Nebraska, Iowa for the fourth time this trip and through the rough stretch of I-80 in Illinois. That road makes me crazy. And they charge tolls in an effort to add insult to injury. All the corrupt politicos must have swung the highway money elsewhere.
It was 62 degrees for the high and kind of overcast in North Chicago. I had a bite at a Greek place and the assignment I had been waiting for came through. Pick up would be in Rockford, Illinois, destination, Laredo, Texas. Somebody give me a range hat, we're going to Texas. A 1,400 mile cannon ball run to the Mexican border at the Rio Grande. Time to finish up the gyro and gulp the unsweet tea and head to Rockford, about 45 minutes out from Chi Town. After loading up the coveted apparatus for the Mexicans, it was time to peddle it outta there. The run took me down state through Illinois, around St. Louis, out Missouri, into Oklahoma, through Tulsa and into Texas. I continued through Dallas, Waco, Austin, San Antonio and it was a straight shot to Laredo.
Texas wasn't what I thought it would be. I expected some open land in between the cities on I-35, but it was one big fat (Texas, style), megalopolis from Dallas to San Antonio. Over 300 miles of megalopolis. It opened up after San Antonio into Laredo. The scenery turned into wide open spaces with sprawling ranches.
By the time I got to Laredo the next day, it was nighttime and at 10:30 pm CDT, it had cooled off to 85 from a high of 110. In your face type of heat. The next day was 107. The locals said, "you should have been here a couple of days ago when it was 112." Truly, a screen door away from hell. I'm real sorry I missed that. They also said," be careful of the tumbleweed, it hurts." I said, it hurts? "Yeah, it's got thorns"
I went to the happening Flying J restaurant to get a piece of pizza and a Sunny Delight where I found myself behind a fellow that looked like Tommy Chong trying to get a receipt from the cashier for goods that he had gotten with a free coupon. Back and forth they went. The Flying personnel weren't going to give him one and he insisted that the border Gestapo would arrest him if he didn't have a receipt for his goods. Finally, after involving a small army of people, they came up with some sort of paper, just to shut him up and get rid of him.
I ate my pizza and drank my Sunny and headed out of the ice cold air conditioning for a before-bed-puff on my pipe. Outside, there was a guy in a Hawaiian shirt, looking like he'd been in the sun too long during the day. He struck up some small talk with me and suddenly said "I wish the government would stop taking pictures of me from outer space" I replied that I hated when that happened and had grown weary myself with smiling for all the cameras. I asked if he was a driver, and he said no, and he offered that he spent his days slipping back and forth between the US and Mexico. I didn't ask why. I didn't want to know why. For the curious, he was a clean shaven Caucasian man with Aerosmith Dream On lines in his face..maybe mid 50's.
The next morning, I cleaned up and ventured over to the J for some Cinnamon Toast Crunch and 2% milk for breakfast. I passed my rumpled friend in the Hawaiian shirt in the convenience store and wished him a good morning. I finished up and headed to the NAFTA trade zone to hand my load to the Mexicans.
After 20 days out, visits to numerous cities and destinations, travel though 17 states and on time deliveries for every one..it was time to go home. I headed my empty truck, full of road stories and a feeling of accomplishment to Dallas, Georgia. Straight from Laredo I travelled, except for a stop back in San Antonio for paperwork, I destined, singing Ray Charles' "Georgia On My Mind"
At 10:00 am, EDT, I pulled into my driveway and parked the truck, up behind my barn. I couldn't wait to get in the house to see the girls, my four legged son Louie and his 14 feline brothers and sisters. My neighbor Mike showed up with his lawn tractor and started cutting my lawn! Before I left, I had thrown a drive belt on mine. I was arraigning for a pro cut when Mike showed. Other neighbors stopped by and before I knew it, we had a small gathering. Loy, from next door handed me a pile of yellow squash from the garden. It all made me realize how much I love living here and how lucky I am to have such great neighbors.
I'm out again on Wednesday for another vagabond round in my rolling office with a view of America. It's a great country out there. Happy 4th of July everyone. It's still worth celebrating. May God bless you all.
It was 62 degrees for the high and kind of overcast in North Chicago. I had a bite at a Greek place and the assignment I had been waiting for came through. Pick up would be in Rockford, Illinois, destination, Laredo, Texas. Somebody give me a range hat, we're going to Texas. A 1,400 mile cannon ball run to the Mexican border at the Rio Grande. Time to finish up the gyro and gulp the unsweet tea and head to Rockford, about 45 minutes out from Chi Town. After loading up the coveted apparatus for the Mexicans, it was time to peddle it outta there. The run took me down state through Illinois, around St. Louis, out Missouri, into Oklahoma, through Tulsa and into Texas. I continued through Dallas, Waco, Austin, San Antonio and it was a straight shot to Laredo.
Texas wasn't what I thought it would be. I expected some open land in between the cities on I-35, but it was one big fat (Texas, style), megalopolis from Dallas to San Antonio. Over 300 miles of megalopolis. It opened up after San Antonio into Laredo. The scenery turned into wide open spaces with sprawling ranches.
By the time I got to Laredo the next day, it was nighttime and at 10:30 pm CDT, it had cooled off to 85 from a high of 110. In your face type of heat. The next day was 107. The locals said, "you should have been here a couple of days ago when it was 112." Truly, a screen door away from hell. I'm real sorry I missed that. They also said," be careful of the tumbleweed, it hurts." I said, it hurts? "Yeah, it's got thorns"
I went to the happening Flying J restaurant to get a piece of pizza and a Sunny Delight where I found myself behind a fellow that looked like Tommy Chong trying to get a receipt from the cashier for goods that he had gotten with a free coupon. Back and forth they went. The Flying personnel weren't going to give him one and he insisted that the border Gestapo would arrest him if he didn't have a receipt for his goods. Finally, after involving a small army of people, they came up with some sort of paper, just to shut him up and get rid of him.
I ate my pizza and drank my Sunny and headed out of the ice cold air conditioning for a before-bed-puff on my pipe. Outside, there was a guy in a Hawaiian shirt, looking like he'd been in the sun too long during the day. He struck up some small talk with me and suddenly said "I wish the government would stop taking pictures of me from outer space" I replied that I hated when that happened and had grown weary myself with smiling for all the cameras. I asked if he was a driver, and he said no, and he offered that he spent his days slipping back and forth between the US and Mexico. I didn't ask why. I didn't want to know why. For the curious, he was a clean shaven Caucasian man with Aerosmith Dream On lines in his face..maybe mid 50's.
The next morning, I cleaned up and ventured over to the J for some Cinnamon Toast Crunch and 2% milk for breakfast. I passed my rumpled friend in the Hawaiian shirt in the convenience store and wished him a good morning. I finished up and headed to the NAFTA trade zone to hand my load to the Mexicans.
After 20 days out, visits to numerous cities and destinations, travel though 17 states and on time deliveries for every one..it was time to go home. I headed my empty truck, full of road stories and a feeling of accomplishment to Dallas, Georgia. Straight from Laredo I travelled, except for a stop back in San Antonio for paperwork, I destined, singing Ray Charles' "Georgia On My Mind"
At 10:00 am, EDT, I pulled into my driveway and parked the truck, up behind my barn. I couldn't wait to get in the house to see the girls, my four legged son Louie and his 14 feline brothers and sisters. My neighbor Mike showed up with his lawn tractor and started cutting my lawn! Before I left, I had thrown a drive belt on mine. I was arraigning for a pro cut when Mike showed. Other neighbors stopped by and before I knew it, we had a small gathering. Loy, from next door handed me a pile of yellow squash from the garden. It all made me realize how much I love living here and how lucky I am to have such great neighbors.
I'm out again on Wednesday for another vagabond round in my rolling office with a view of America. It's a great country out there. Happy 4th of July everyone. It's still worth celebrating. May God bless you all.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Here Today, Gone Tomorrow and Somewhere Else The Next Day
Thursday last week I started in Ohio at a truckstop called Gulliver's Travels and went over the top of Ohio to Detroit, Mich, then out across Michigan through Indiana, Illinois, Iowa and south to northwest Missouri near Kansas City. From there up to Omaha, Neb. Then, back across and up Iowa through Des Moines to Minnesota to Minneapolis.
Next up was a trip across Wisconsin to Madison to Milwaukee and then south to drop a load in Chicago. I was going to stay in Chicago, when I got a sudden load to Denver, Colorado, pick up was in Hartford, north of Milwaukee. Back up to Wisconsin. More cheese. Bombed across Wisconsin, back through Rockford, Illinois and out I 80 again. And.. yes, once again through Iowa! More corn. 3 times I have travelled through Des Moines this week. East, West and North, South.
This morning I cruised into Denver, had two stops and then holed up in The Flying J Truckstop..with WIFI :-) The mountains are snow capped and the low is predicted to be 55.
This week, I saw signs for the boyhood homes of Thomas Edison, Herbet Hoover, Ronald Reagan and Bob Feller. Farm fields stretched for miles in every state I've been to. Western Nebraska and eastern Colorado are extremely flat until you're on top of Denver, then the mountains go up like a wall. They're snow capped right now.
With the trip to Michigan, I have now completed every state east of the Mississippi. Working on all 50 and all the Canadian Providences. I used to want to do Mexico, but Laredo, TX is about it for me with all the border trouble.
The thing about this job, is that I never know where I'm headed. Nothing predictable. Kinda like Hot Air Ballooning. Once you go up, it depends on the wind. So, right now, I'm a nomadic gypsy with no direction.
Next up was a trip across Wisconsin to Madison to Milwaukee and then south to drop a load in Chicago. I was going to stay in Chicago, when I got a sudden load to Denver, Colorado, pick up was in Hartford, north of Milwaukee. Back up to Wisconsin. More cheese. Bombed across Wisconsin, back through Rockford, Illinois and out I 80 again. And.. yes, once again through Iowa! More corn. 3 times I have travelled through Des Moines this week. East, West and North, South.
This morning I cruised into Denver, had two stops and then holed up in The Flying J Truckstop..with WIFI :-) The mountains are snow capped and the low is predicted to be 55.
This week, I saw signs for the boyhood homes of Thomas Edison, Herbet Hoover, Ronald Reagan and Bob Feller. Farm fields stretched for miles in every state I've been to. Western Nebraska and eastern Colorado are extremely flat until you're on top of Denver, then the mountains go up like a wall. They're snow capped right now.
With the trip to Michigan, I have now completed every state east of the Mississippi. Working on all 50 and all the Canadian Providences. I used to want to do Mexico, but Laredo, TX is about it for me with all the border trouble.
The thing about this job, is that I never know where I'm headed. Nothing predictable. Kinda like Hot Air Ballooning. Once you go up, it depends on the wind. So, right now, I'm a nomadic gypsy with no direction.
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