A Bit of History

A Bit of History

Perhaps a bit of history leading to the telling of this story. My initial decision to drive truck began in 2007. I sought out information about the company, applied for and received a response indicating that I was “conditionally” hired and was to begin training in about 3 weeks, after a medical exam.

Went through the exam, gave a two-week notice to the Tribune (shocking everyone), and began preparing to leave the paper and go to Green Bay.

Here comes that “conditional” part. One week before I was to go to GB for training, I had one last phone interview concerning health and meds. I was asked what meds I took, ha, little did I know what was coming.

Upon revealing the prescriptions I take, there was a pause, an um or two and the person said “I need to look that one up.” Turns out one of my meds was not allowed to be able to obtain a commercial drivers license-CDL. I was told I had to be off the med for 6 months to be considered for employment! Yikes! This conversation couldn’t have taken place a week earlier?! I just gave notice that I was leaving the paper!! She said good luck and call us back in 6 months.

So… swallowing my pride, I went to the editor to ask if I could rescind my resignation. To my unending surprise, he said he had not yet submitted the paperwork and that I had continued to diligently perform my duties at the paper (no short-timer attitude here!) I spent another full year at the Tribune, resolving the meds issue and again deciding that I was going to do this.

Went through the entire process, med exam, phone interviews and getting the go-ahead to go to Green Bay. Apologies to the Tribune, but I felt the need to do the whole thing under wraps and could give only a 3-day notice I was leaving. They were less than pleased and was told I could never again work for the Gannett Corporation. Guess I burned that bridge.

Apologies and How I Decided to Drive Big Rig

Apologies for not keeping my blog current. I decided that I should tell the story of how I ended up being an over the road truck driver.

Now some of those reading this will have heard the tale but not most and certainly not in the boring detail I’m liable to put down here.

A long time ago (OK about three years ago), in the far away land of Port Edwards, WI, a less than happy photographer was watching his income flatline as the newspaper industry struggled to maintain viability and decide which employees it could do without.

The Wisconsin Rapids Daily Tribune, my employer for 8 years, had been purchased by the Gannett Corp. shortly after I started. A building housing about 100 people at it’s peak had already been reduced to 40-45 by 2000. Changes in print technology and computers were the cause of that reduction of staff. But when Gannett took over, the first thing to go was the press itself, thereby ensuring that no other entity could purchase the paper and begin competing in the newspaper industry. Granted, the press, relatively new, had been idled a few years prior when the Tribune began being printed in Stevens Point, home of a sister paper.

Shortly after the press was disassembled and shipped out, the layoffs began. A few individuals deemed expendable, then it was entire departments as they moved them to other papers around the state. You see, when Gannett came in, they bought ten papers in the eastern and central areas of Wisconsin. As operations moved, they offered positions to the folks being cut.
They then had to re-apply and if they got the job, they would now have to commute 30 to 60 miles. Yeah, thanks a lot, I get to keep the poorly paid position and add the expense of driving? No thanks. Most opted for unemployment and sought work in the free-falling economy of central Wisconsin. An added bonus for Gannett, they shed the older employees for younger and cheaper ones.

By the time I left, the 30-35 people had been reduced to less than 20. The area residents complained about the lack of service the paper now provided to the community. All advertising had to be called into an 800 # to a town 100 miles distant, locals had no idea to whom they were talking and errors, while always present, became much worse.
Reporters now had to shoot photos, photographers had to shoot video and write stories. Quality of the paper continued to decline, the actual physical size of the paper declined, readership declined, advertising declined and the possibility of long-term employment for me declined. I decided, with much discussion with my wife, it was time to seek other opportunities. I would leave before I was downsized.

So what to do? The Wisconsin Rapids area had seen it’s major industry, paper production, go through the same process I just described about newspapers. Hostile take-overs and outright sales of the paper mills to larger, outside corporations resulted in the loss of many hundreds, perhaps thousands of local jobs. The mill in Port Edwards was closed accounting for 500+ alone!

I could go back to school and get a degree in some field of interest??? OK, 2-3 years to flesh out some sort of degree, no income for that time period, accrue several thousands of dollars in debt and come out a 50-something year-old college grad trying to compete in the economy that was just crashing?
Or, since I enjoy driving, go to school for 3 weeks, learn to drive a big rig, and start bringing in more money than the newspaper would ever pay? Duh! So, here I am, driving a giant, pumpkin-colored rig across the country.

Pissed Off!

Time to vent a bit. Traveling this country has proven to be a mixed pleasure. I've seen some absolutely beautiful places and witnessed some disgusting behavior.
Beautiful places? New York City at sunset, the Thousand Island region of Lake Ontario, the New River Gorge filled with mist as seen from the bridge in West Virginia and a desert sunset as seen from Highway 54 in New Mexico.

Disgusting behavior? bottles, bags and puddles of urine seen along the roads, truck stops and drop yards across the country. Most truck stops reek of the smell of piss and diesel except for some of the newest that have yet to be defiled to the degree that older stops have been. Clear or translucent bottles with tell-tale amber glow. Even ziplock bags lying on the pavement just waiting for the next tire to pop the bag and spray piss all over the place. There have also been bags and soda cups filled with feces and subsequently run over. C'mon guys, really? You can't make the 100 feet to the restroom? I say guys because I really doubt that women are responsible for this type of act. Well, perhaps a few, but doubtless this is a male dominated kind of thing.
Granted, there can be emergencies, but can't you deliver your "product" to a trash receptacle? It seems there are many that can't. If you look, you'll see these bottles on roadsides and off ramps. I've seen them set in quantity on concrete light post bases like a display. I pity the poor municipal employees and volunteers that clean the road sides and medians of our public roads.

Sorry State of Our Economy

Just left the Philadelphia area the other day and feel the need to comment on the neighborhood I visited. An urbanized industrial area called Chester along the Delaware River just south and west of downtown Philly. I delivered to a large, national manufacturer of consumer goods with a factory right on the river. It was a large facility with multiple properties and was a damn obstacle course to drive through, a fact attested to by a bit of graffiti left on a sign in the drop yard. It was poorly maintained and dirty.
The area itself was interesting to say the least. Lone houses standing on a small block where every other structure had been torn down. What appeared to be abandoned houses, some boarded up and some with gaping holes due to missing doors and windows, side-by-side with tidy homes and some others that were still lived-in but should be torn down. There were businesses mixed with the houses, some open but many closed. There were shuttered industrial buildings, some vacant lots and some brand-new construction.

What was the brand-new stuff you ask? A huge Harrah's Casino on the river bank and a prison. Really? This is the new growth moving in to replace our rotting industrial base? One to take your hard-earned money via what's called "entertainment" and the other to lock up more and more of our population who do not conform to our societies rules. Granted, there are a number of incorrigible and dangerous individuals that need to be removed from our communities but many are repeat offenders of petty crime and drug users that should not be warehoused at a huge cost to our society. I don't see either of these "industries" providing anywhere near the number of jobs that manufacturing provided.

I was amazed as I entered this area at 11pm on the Wednesday before New Years Eve, at the sheer volume of cars pouring into the casino with people apparently willing to shell out their cash on the hopes of a big win. The odds were not in their favor and never will be. Let's hope that we can do better for ourselves and this country.

Hookers in Little Rock

I've been driving about 16 months now. In that time I've been approached once, indirectly, by a lot lizard, the derogatory term used to describe a truckstop hooker. I was in San Antonio, TX and a woman was walking from rig to rig at the truckstop I had chosen to park for the night.

It was summer, it was still light out and plenty hot. She eventually got to me and asked to use the CB, I politely declined and she continued on. A driver finally let her into a rig and as she grabbed the mic, I switched on my CB. I generally don't use my CB as it's rather obnoxious, interferes with my music and I can't understand half of what's being said by what sounds like mush-mouth southerners cussing at each other most of the time.

Anyway, she proceeded to adopt this sweet, Texas twang and advertised herself as a "masseuse" for hire. Oh yeah, I'll bet she rubs you alright. So the replies began to pour in from drivers in the lot and a meetup was set for a "massage" I passed.

So, until two nights ago in Little Rock, AR, that was the extent of my exposure to the seedy part of truck driving.

It was a cold night, about 37 deg. and I see a woman walk past the front of my rig wearing a hooded sweatshirt, sweatpants and flip-flops. I thought to myself, "That's not a driver". Now there are a number of women drivng truck, they just do not wear the attire this woman was sporting. Again, I turned on the CB just in time to hear another woman advertising her services to anyone on channel 19. 19 is the common talking channel used by drivers. She didn't play the coy massage angle. She said straight up she had a juicy ass and some sweet, juicy titties for hire! She said anyone interested should jump to channel 23 for more details. She stated what truckstop she was located and what she was wearing, it was not the same woman I had seen.

Guys started calling out asking for a more detailed description and asking prices. She described herself and said prices were case by case, she will come talk with you, where you at? Guys tried to describe where they were parked and she asked them to flash their lights. Some guys didn't listen very well. She stated she was at a place across the road but there were trucks flashing their lights where I was parked and they kept saying "I can't see you sugar!"

So, my first, real exposure, to lot lizards. Again, I passed.

Trip from hell

Smacked my first deer, got a speeding ticket, knocked over a utility pole and could not get home for Thanksgiving. That made this last time out the trip from hell. Having the time to visit with friends in Virginia, hitting a couple of tasty micro-breweries and getting some good miles helped ease the pain.

A brief rundown on this trip as I write this at the West Memphis OC (operating center)in Arkansas. Started this run to the Kansas City area and then through Topeka to Wichita. In Topeka is a micro-brewery/barbecue joint named the Blind Tiger. Good food and very tasty beer! Made that a stop-over so I could eat and drink a few beers.

Back north to the Twin Cities then east, bound for Virginia. It was crossing Ohio in the dark, with a heavy load of paper, on a steep downhill that I exceeded their damned 55 mph speed limit and garnered a ticket. On to VA, then north to PA and back south to VA. Nearly out of hours, I was able to take a 34 hour break in Crozet, VA and spend the time with my good friends, the Ewell family! During that visit my buddy James, some of friends from the area and I went to the Blue Mountain Brewery. A very small micro-brewery started by a former brewer from the Goose Island Brewery. Only ate appetizers (very good) and drank numerous (small) beers. Had a very good time.

From there, east to Norfolk. That's where I took out a wooden utility pole that I failed to see as I entered a poorly-lit drop lot. It held support wires for cable and phone wires, no power. No service was lost, traffic was blocked for a short while but the police didn't take my name or file any sort of report. I did notify my employer. After that incident, I headed north to New Hampshire and Maine.

It was in Maine going north on I-95 near Lewiston that I saw the briefest flash of a deer head as I struck it full speed, right in the bumper. Then the subsequent bumps and rumbles as I ran it over with 9 of my 18 wheels. I ended up with a dented metal bumper and a trashed left-side plastic bumper extension. The next day I passed the scene of the crash and saw nothing but a huge smear of blood that ran about 150" down the road. I absolutely smoked that poor thing.

So now I'm on my way back east, encountering horrible traffic and several crashes causing about 2 hours of delay in CT. Another crash on a 2-lane road in Ohio (I hate Ohio) stopped me dead for an hour and a half. These delays cost me an on-time delivery and to miss the next pickup that was to head me home in time for TG. I chose to stay out, get more miles and take 5 days for my next time at home.

Dead Animals

Dead animals, roadkill, sail rabbits. You see the bodies scattered on the roads you drive every day, the blood stains from fresh hits or the dried, leathery remains of some poor critter run over so many times, it's nothing more than a flat platter of unidentifiable fur. This situation has begun to bother me.

As I rack up thousands of miles each month, I cannot help but notice just how many animals, both wild and domestic, perish beneath the wheels of cars and trucks that ply the roads. My last trip out took me through Pennsylvania, New York, Maine, Vermont, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Ohio, Indiana and Michigan. I saw what must have been hundreds of carcasses! I thought perhaps I should make a count to see if what I was estimating was any where close to the actual number. Each day passed and I neglected to begin a count. This trip out, after the first day, I made my count.

Driving the states of Iowa, Missouri and Kansas for about 450 miles, I tallied 255 dead animals. Bloody deer, bloated raccoons, squashed skunks, and numerous anonymous bits of fur or feathers. There were hawks, dogs, foxes, cats, rabbits and squirrels. I witnessed 2 feral dogs eating a deer carcass in Missouri. Then, not too much further down the road, two dead dogs side by side in the median not ten feet from another deer.

Repeat this scene in every state with regional changes in dead fauna and you can understand what I've been seeing out here on the road. I can almost tell what state I'm in by the species I see. Gators in Louisiana, porcupines in Michigan, armadillos in Texas, well, and also Mississippi, Alabama, Louisiana, Missouri, etc, etc.

A few observations about regional differences as I end this. I just cannot believe how many dead dogs I see on the roads of southern states. What the hell is up with that? Are there that many more dogs, do the owners just let their canines run free. I'm sure some are feral but I've seen many with collars and I'm sure there are no feral chihuahuas running around Alabama.

I have no idea how this could or should be addressed but perhaps just an increased awareness of what's happening out there by anyone that reads this. Thanks for reading.