A Long Way From Home: A Trucker's Life Through A Woman's Eye Volume 4

By C L Miller

It started out so innocently. I was working for a Las Vegas construction company in the accounting department. My husband, Harry, was driving one of the company's delivery trucks that took supplies to the job sites around the city. One weekend he had an out-of-town run and I got permission to go along for the ride. I was hooked before we'd traveled twenty miles.
Truck driving school lasted about four weeks. There were twenty students in the class and only two women, a ratio that reflects the entire industry. I was learning a new skill at age fifty-four, so very different from the quiet and predictable desk jobs I had done in the past.
Being a woman in a man's world can be challenging, is rarely boring, and is surprisingly comfortable. I have been treated with respect by my fellow Drivers and accepted without hesitation or condescension. There are no barriers.
If, a dozen years ago, someone had told me I'd be doing this job today, I would have assumed them to be certifiably insane.
Yet, here I am.

• Language: English
• Publisher: C L Miller
• Release date: Jun 6, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310116247

C L Miller

C L Miller is a sixty-two year old woman truck driver who teams with her husband. They drive over-the-road in the United States and Canada. Prior to getting her CDL, she worked in a library and in accounting.She calls this new adventure her ‘mid-life crisis career” and has recorded her journeys in the continuing series “A Long Way From Home: A Trucker’s Life Through A Woman’s Eye”. She occasionally detours into fiction, as in “Pivotals” and “First Fruits”.She welcomes comments and questions, and can be contacted at [e-mail].

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A LONG WAY FROM HOME:

A Trucker's Life Through A Woman's Eye

Volume 4

By

C L Miller

Dedicated to my fellow Drivers.

Be safe.

C L Miller was fifty-four years old when she went on the road as truck driver with her husband. They drove over-the-road in the United States and Canada. Prior to getting her commercial driver’s license, she worked in a library and in accounting. She called this new adventure her mid-life crisis job and recorded her journeys in the continuing series A Long Way From Home: A Trucker's Life Through A Woman's Eye.

She occasionally detours into fiction, as in Pivotals and First Fruits.

She welcomes comments and questions and can be contacted at

[e-mail]

Copyright 2015 

by C L Miller 

Smashwords Edition.

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Resolved

Small World

Directional Challenges

Polling places

Circling the block

Taking notice

Time for a change

Two of a kind

Now and Again

Ticklers

Are you sure about that?

Dragging the line

No more surprises

Connections

Positively indecisive!

Heart and Soles

Crossover

Sign Language

Smooth moves

Dream ON

Spring in our steps

Tangles

Adoring fans

Them & Us

Spaced-out travel

Speak easy

Pumpernickel

Second chances

New horizons

Oh yeah

Striking a chord

Prologue

Resolved

January 5, 2012

I am looking forward to 2012. First of all, it is a Leap Year, which gives me an extra day to be only one year older than Harry. It also gives me an actual Anniversary on February 29.

We made it as far as Gary, Indiana with our Milwaukee-to-Knoxville cargo before we shut down Thursday night. That was about all I could handle after the evening traffic in Chicago, although I have to admit it went fairly smoothly with few delays. We hadn't eaten all day, so we dove into a good meal at the Gary T/A and fell asleep early. Friday morning we gladly set out for Knoxville.

Kentucky is a beautiful state, and nothing is prettier than the sight of a thoroughbred horse standing in a pasture. All four knees are slightly bent, as if the horse just came to a halt or is contemplating a run; you can see the powerful leg muscles flexing. The long, silky tail is ruffling in the breeze; the mane is tickling the slender neck. The head is held high, eyes intently looking forward to the next race. An amazing moment.

Urban legend says that M&M Candy was offered a role in some silly little film about a cutesy little extra-terrestrial, and declined. I love those wonderful hindsight stories. Whenever I hear one, I think of Reese's Pieces laughing all the way to the bank.

The temperature was in the mid-50s when we arrived in Knoxville. We had two-plus days to relax before making our delivery on Monday morning. We made meal plans for the entire weekend. (Yes, that is sometimes the highlight of off-duty hours.) We set no alarm; we left the QUALCOMM in off mode. Ahhhhhhh.

We weren't the only Drivers using down time to make minor repairs and do some sprucing up for the New Year. It was a cool, clear day in Knoxville, just about perfect. The truck wash facility on the Petro property was a busy place and the line was long, even taking into account the length of each vehicle. The truck in front of us was clearly from Canada. A sign on the back of the trailer read: This Unit Travels At 110km/hr (When Posted). If Driver Exceeds This Speed Please Call 1-800-123-5555. Even the trailers are polite!

Most of us were bunked down long before midnight. We aren't the only Drivers who have eliminated alcohol from our lives. The hardcore party faction set off firecrackers at 11:00pm, then all went quiet.

Trukker Skool

Being seen storing liquor in your truck can generate an inspection. If you cannot reasonably consume the purchase in time to leave you SOBER (not hung over) for up to twenty four hours before the next driving shift, it can result in a citation for driving under the influence. Note: This is in advance of the actual drinking.

For example, if you are due to go back on duty at 0700 Monday, January 2, any alcohol found in your truck MUST be able to be consumed (with reasonable tolerance and discretion) prior to 0700 Sunday, January 1. If the quantity in your possession indicates you will be drinking more than is easy to recover from, or after 0700, or might be saved for later consumption, your truck will be taken out of service and you will be grounded until the liquor is gone and another twenty four hours have passed. You may be charged with Driving Under the Influence, even though you have not yet turned the key in the ignition. This even applies if you are part of a Team and the other Driver doesn't imbibe. Regardless of which Driver is scheduled to drive on Monday or the number of hours until the other goes on duty, all must adhere to the standard. (This knowledge may cause a very brief discussion around the Driver's lounge about buying a six pack and ringing in the New Year. It will be followed by shrugs, a couple sighs, and a chorus of Well, never mind ... Good night ... See you next year!)

Clean truck! Freshly painted black bumper! Laundry! A shower TWO days in a ROW (kind of freaky weird)! In keeping with a New Year tradition, the restaurant buffet offered black-eyed peas as a good luck start to 2012. Not being very fond of them, and not sure of the details of the lore, I took a small portion. Later I read that one must eat one pea for each day of the year. Great, I'm only good until January 10; Harry is only safe until January 2.

We arrived at our Knoxville Consignee a half hour ahead of the 0800 appointment (translation: Get there when we tell you, and we will work out the minor detail of having someone available to unload your truck) to a completely deserted building. At 0758 a single vehicle pulled into the parking lot. It turned out he was the only person planning to put in an appearance the day after a holiday, but he made a phone call. Someone Else would be there within the hour. Someone Else said we weren't supposed to arrive until Tuesday, and he didn't have the equipment available to unload us anyway. So back we traipsed to the Petro. In mid-afternoon it began to snow; not a blizzard, but enough, and very very cold. Fortunately we were parked fairly close to the building and made every trek worth the effort.

I wear size six-and-a-half wide shoes. Without the wide, they are too small; a size seven is too big. Fortunately, there must be a segment of the female population that shares that size with me; unfortunately, the selection is limited. In my current circumstances space is at a premium, so my shoe collection is small (two pairs). When my summer whites wear thin, I go after a set of winter blacks. That was my mission on Monday. Walmart carries the Dr Scholl's I like, so I went to their shoe department. Sadly, nothing in my size was on the shelf. I waylaid an employee who paged the shoe department clerk; apparently the message got routed to Mars. I waylaid a clerk and explained what I needed. She checked the shelf I had been standing in front of for the past ten minutes. No, there is nothing in your size. She checked again. Nope, still not here. The shoes I was wearing were getting older and more worn by the minute. After ten more minutes we determined that this particular Walmart was out of stock on my shoes. Whew! I'm glad we settled that!

We arrived at the Consignee again on Tuesday morning. They had decided to unload our truck using the equipment already on hand, but with three more people to help. The freight was packed in three separate wooden containers. The first to come off was a 500-pound box firmly attached to a wooden pallet; they hooked a strap to it and to a forklift and dragged it back to where it could be forked and lifted. Piece o'cake. The next piece was almost the height of the inside of our trailer, and more than half the width; however it only weighed 2300 pounds so the grab-and-drag worked well, if more carefully done. Piece number three was the challenge. It weighed 6500 pounds. Since it was put on first, it was far forward in the trailer. A pallet jack lifted one end so they could drag it part way out of the trailer. It weighed twice what our lift gate could tolerate so when they got it near the rear edge, they attached it to their overhead crane. At that point I literally drove out from under it, leaving it suspended until I was clear. All this took over an hour. We were glad when it was complete.

Trukker Skool

Depending on the type of cargo you carry, you may occasionally have a Consignee that refuses a load. The Shipper most likely will not want it back. Your company might give you the option of how to dispose of the items. That means you could find yourself with 35,000 pounds of over-ripe bananas; a LOT of unpackaged toilet paper; enough breakfast cereal to feed your entire neighborhood for a year. Occasionally it will be a much better deal, and you will make a lot of new friends.

We were sitting in the truck stop restaurant near a couple who were telling about a load of King crab that was refused by a Consignee, reason unknown to us. They bought a lot of butter and had a big dinner. It got us thinking of some of the loads we have carried and how a refusal would have played out for us. We might have an artificial heart machine, a radio altimeter, seismic equipment, several jet engines, a twenty foot long piece of track lighting, enough flavored syrup to make two thousand bottles of Orange Crush, a few computers with NASA information, a lot of appliances, some very good drugs, and Texas Rangers ball caps. Sounds like a right fine party!

I am always grateful for our little on board shower/toilet facility, but even more so at 2:30am on a very cold, dark, winter morning.

Wednesday morning we set out for Memphis to pick up freight to deliver in Knoxville on Thursday morning. This is a regular customer, so we know the drill by heart. As I drove westbound on I-40, it became crystal clear that the Tennessee Highway Patrol had been informed of the ban on hand-held communication devices. They had probably decided that the $2750 fine made it worth stationing an officer at five mile intervals, just in case a Driver was not aware of the new regulations. I think I could have blown past them at ninety miles per hour, but as long as I was wearing a headset I wouldn't be pursued.

Just west of Knoxville, a billboard announces Flea World is at an upcoming exit. Makes me feel scritchy just to read that. I have no desire to visit.

A pleasant surprise came our way. Apparently Someone felt bad about the delivery debacle on Monday, so we were given a fair compensation for our time. I know WE feel better. Reese's Pieces better!

Thursday morning had us back in Knoxville. We decided to try shoe shopping one more time. Same Walmart, different clerk. I explained my preference for a particular style of Dr Scholl's walking shoes. She searched the back stock and regretfully reported there still were none. She then suggested another brand of shoe that is very popular with persons who do jobs that require a lot of walking. I was amenable, so we moved to that shelf. Alas! Still nothing in my size. I asked her if she could check the stock room. She suggested I try on another size to determine if I would like the shoe before she went to check. I suggested that the best way to determine if I will like a shoe is to try one in the correct size for my foot. (Yes, she was the clerk in the shoe department.)

Thursday afternoon in Knoxville. I am now the proud owner of a very comfortable hand's free device. It can be programmed to read my text messages to me. If I purchase the correct program, I can even dictate my outgoing text messages. For another upgrade, it will put a turkey pot pie in the microwave and tell me when it is ready to eat. There has been a run on hand's free devices at every truck stop and a few of the electronics and phone stores. We bought ours through our cell phone provider. The clerk commented on the rise in sales. I explained the new regulations. He was astounded when he thought I said the fine was $750. He was speechless when I told him it's $2750. We agreed it was about time the Law cracked down.

Happy New Year, y'all.

Small World

January 12, 2012

It's a small world ... Unless you inadvertently swap cosmetic bags with your male Co-Driver and aren't sure which shower room he is in. Your only way to find him is to call his cell phone as you walk the hall, hoping you will hear it ringing.

... after all ....

We sat down to dinner at the Petro in Atlanta, and a few moments later a couple we met last month in Ontario, California, sat down in the booth next to ours. We got caught up on news before they headed out. It always amazes me how often we re-encounter Drivers we have met in truck stops on the other side of the country. The odds on that seem exponentially astronomical, and yet it happens fairly often.

Speaking of which, Cory wrote he is on his way to North Carolina. We are in Georgia. The gap is closing. I want to see his new truck.

One event marred our weekend. I happened to check our bank balance on Friday evening and noticed a debit from our account via an ATM at the truck stop. Harry was in the game room, but I knew he had enough cash to play for quite a while so my first fear was that he had lost his debit card. It turned out he had been scanned by those devices that can read the bar code on credit cards, and transfer the information to another card that can be used in the ATM. We found all this out when we called our bank. We immediately informed the truck stop security person. He ran the surveillance tapes, but couldn't find any indications of who did it. I'm firmly convinced it was not a Driver. More than likely it was someone who perceived the casual atmosphere as a place to roam unnoticed, scanning unsuspecting wallets in back pockets. Fortunately our loss was small and won't be repeated by the thief, but it still made me twitchy. I hate being suspicious of others.

Saturday afternoon at the Petro was unusually sociable. The truck stop has made a few changes in the layout since our last visit. The styling salon moved from a trailer in the parking lot to an indoor space. That forced the game room to go smaller, which in turn squeezed the pool tables out to the main room. The TV room is a bit smaller, but the access is easier. All that put most of us within a few steps of each other, regardless of what recreation we are pursuing. With football playoffs and a marathon pool tournament, it was a loud but friendly place. It was quieter and cooler outside, so there was always a group on the benches. Of course, being Georgia, the evening brought rain and a bit of lightning. I preferred to stay outside, with occasional peeks at the football scores. Since the building is smoke free, there was a continual parade of smokers and a few fresh-air fiends outside. The back door is the main access to the parking lot, so nearly every Driver passes through it at least twice during a visit.

Trukker Skool

Even in the casual atmosphere of a truck stop, there are a few basic rules of etiquette. You will frequently find groups of Drivers chatting in the restaurant, the Driver's lounge, the laundry room, or wherever they happen to gather. No conversation is considered strictly private, and most will welcome an additional voice. You just need to follow the basic rules of engagement. First, you must wait for some indication that you have been included, which can range from a look in your direction to an invitation to join; butting in is frowned upon. Second, you must wait a few moments before speaking, until you have picked up the flow and can merge easily. Third, you must not change the subject when you enter the conversation; it will change itself soon enough. Fourth, when you speak, it should not be argumentative, abrasive, or loud; an exchange of opinion is welcome, being shouted at is not.

Some people don't get that, and a quiet chat I was having was stomped on by a woman who paused going into the building, backed out, and started talking. Loudly. She was telling me about some issue with her truck, during which she reminded me a half-dozen times that she owns. My co-chat walked away in frustration, but I was enjoying the evening air and sat and listened. And listened. And listened. An hour later I found my new friend in the group watching the football game and we resumed our conversation, keeping an eye out for Ms MeMeMe.

I attended the Sunday morning and evening chapel services. They were led by different chaplains, but there was a similar theme. In the morning the subject was Isaiah's call to ministry; in the evening we heard about Phillip's ministering to the Ethiopian who was reading Isaiah. I don't know if the two men planned it that way, but it was an informative tie-in.

There are several trucker ministry organizations in the United States and Canada. Between them they cover eighty percent of the larger truck stops, such as Petro, T/A, Iowa 80, and the smaller chains. (Most Pilots, Loves, and now Flying J do not offer on-site chapels, but in some areas local churches will provide shuttles to their services.) They are non-denominational, although the chaplains will share their church affiliations and it will frequently reflect the area of the country; for example, in the Southern states it is heavily Southern Baptist. The chaplains (so far all male) usually work on a rotating basis, presiding about once a month. Many chapels have multiple meetings throughout the week, others are only on Sunday morning. A few use the Drivers' lounge, but most have a separate trailer on property, which gives them the option of staying open longer. We even see trailers left unlocked 24/7, even if no one is on duty, to allow Drivers a private place for prayer and meditation. It is a wonderful service, and we Christian Drivers are grateful.

Monday morning we accepted an appliance load from Atlanta to Memphis. Sadly, our favorite forklift driver, Tony, was no longer working there. When we asked about him, we got some mumbled replies. It remains a mystery.

At breakfast on Tuesday, a TopDrawer Team (I think we've met before) sat near us and started questioning us on how we handle the job with Joel. They shared that their truck's owner expects them to consult him on every load before they accept or decline. Since TopDrawer only