She Driver

7:06pm: My Space
I have a MY Space now. I know, it's stupid but I got back in touch with tons of family and friends through there. I'm keeping my Blurty tho. It was my first blog and I'm an early adopter. (one of the first to use it)

10:35pm: Life's a Highway
Life's a highway. There's only one way you're gonna get through. When she starts to twist, be more like Chris. Pull your hat down tight and just LaDoux it. Garth Brooks singing about the late Chris LaDoux.

I drove 603 miles straight through today, only stopping twice to use the facilities and grab a Subway. The wind was blowing like a banshee, trying its level best to rip the truck from my white knuckled hands. My gross weight was 79900 and the terrain was up and down all the way. On the way down I could grab eighty to eighty-five and at the crest I would be doing fifty to fifty-five. To top it all off, at least four hours of it was on tiny secondary roads with no shoulder to speak of and curve after winding curve through town after tiny town. The sheer volume of red lights in backwoods towns with no business having a traffic light is astounding. It was a grueling day to say the least. It was one that pushed me to my limits.
Every now and then you have to "pull your hat down tight and just do it."

These are the days that make me question my sanity. What in the world was I thinking becoming a truck driver? Everything just seems so irritatingly difficult. I get lost, get found, get lost again and then recognize my own stupidity and get back on track. It's almost laughable, but by the time I find my way I am so angry the humor of it escapes me entirely.

Subsequently, there are the days when it all works and the scenery is beautiful and I thank God that I have a job where I can experience his creation in peaceful solitude. I drive along, listening to music as the miles float by, and think. Ah, those are the days that keep me driving. Perhaps tomorrow will be one of those days. I can only hope.

11:39pm: Blurty
I like this layout. I had planned to delete my Blurty but I guess I will keep it. I won't post any more of my writings here tho. This is strictly for personals blurts.

6:14pm: Women in Trucking
She can see the rain before it starts, looking clear through a windshield full of stars. Yeah, Mama knows the highway now by heart. Hal Ketcham, Mama Knows the Highway.
Women in trucking come in all shapes, sizes, and ethnic and social backgrounds. Each day another woman decides to drive a truck for a living, surprising her family and friends. As drivers go, women are the same as men so let's establish right now that nearly everything I say here about women will be the same for the opposite sex except where it's obviously a woman issue. Hey, I'm a lady, myself. I am not picking on my own gender.
With that said, some women weren't cut out for driving anything, much less a big truck. Some of them, plainly speaking, just don't have the nerve. Some women are naturally air headed and should be driven everywhere they go. I talk on the phone almost daily to one such driver. For the sake of anonymity I will call her Jane. I get fewer calls from Jane since she bought a GPS system for the going price of $500. I personally would brush up on my map skills and save the cash for something important like say, rent? But hey, who am I to judge? It must work because she calls me now only to complain about short trips and city driving and to let me know her recent victim. Her first victim was a parked car and her second was a defenseless, unarmed stop sign. Can you see where I'm going with this? Jane's not cut out for driving, period. In her eyes, she is not at fault for anything. The company is picking on her and sending her incessantly to New Jersey and "up North". I hate to tell her this but "down South" has parked cars and stop signs as well. The company keeps her there because she lives there. If you live in D.C. the company figures you can drive in it and cities like it. They think they are doing you a favor and keeping you close to home. Anyway, I regress. Women, not woman, right?
There are lady drivers and female drivers. The female drivers give the lady drivers a bad name. Lady drivers drive their rigs from town to town, delivering and picking up loads. Female drivers drive from truck stop to rest area, picking up men, giving "hooter shots", and picking up and delivering loads. I personally don't see how they do it. I barely have time to do my job. The extra curricula's, even if I was interested, would slay me.
I am currently training my first lady driver. She plans to team with her husband who is on another trainer's truck right now. She is a good driver, accepts constructive criticism well and truly wants to do this. She wants to know how to back well, drive in city traffic and handle mountains and inclement weather. Not all, but some women teaming with males have the man do those things. They drive only the rural areas of the interstate and let their men do all the backing. Calm down, I said some, not all. I have true respect for a woman that does it all out here. It's tough sometimes.
That brings us to emotions. Women are naturally more emotional than men, letting our emotions run our lives. The road is no place for emotions. Trust me, I have experience in this. If you get emotional and upset while driving you will at the very least, miss your exit and wind up miles out of your way once you come back to your senses. The other end of that is a disaster of some kind such as hitting something or worse, dying or killing out here.
So, to all the women out here who control their emotions, do a good job and keep it real. I salute you. To the females out here that think this is a theme park or a candy store, go home. To all you guys out here, cut us some slack. Most of us can back a truck by ourselves and keep it between the lines and "NO" you can't have a hooter shot.

10:29pm: PIckle

by dragonbytch

5:37pm: Terminal Rats
"I lay my head on the railroad tracks, waiting on the Double E. But the train don't roll by here no more. Poor, poor, pitiful me". Linda Ronstadt, Poor Poor Pitiful Me.
All decent sized trucking companies have terminals. Terminals are places that we take our tractor or trailer for service, get permits, logbooks, drop loads and pick up loads. It's also where we go when we are in trouble for something like log or safety violations. Hit something and see how long it takes to get called to a terminal for a safety review. I try to avoid terminals but being a trainer makes that difficult. Orientation is held at the terminal, therefore that's where the new student drivers are waiting.
Every time I go to a terminal I see the same drivers I saw at the last one. Some of them are trainers and are forced to go there like me. The remainder are what I affectionately call Terminal Rats. No, that doesn't mean a rat that's going to die soon. Terminal Rats float from terminal to terminal. If the load they are on passes anywhere close to one, they just can't help themselves. They wander around complaining they aren't getting any miles. "This load doesn't deliver for four days and its only 600 miles. I can't seem to get any miles. My dispatcher sucks. This company sucks."
Please! Spare me! Do you want some cheese to go with your whine? Get out of the terminal, drive your 600 miles and draw layover pay until the drop time. The next load won't have such a padded delivery date. If a driver uses all the time available to him/her to deliver a load, he/she will continue to get loads with pad dates. Dispatch absolutely will not give a 600 mile load that delivers the next day to a driver that uses four days to do a one day trip. When a company hires a new driver, they give them more than enough time to run a load. They are testing them to see how they run. If they use all the time available to them to run the load, the pad times stay wide. If they run it on in, arriving early, the pad times gradually get narrower. Oftentimes, the only load picking up near a driver has a long pad time but you don't have to be stuck with it.
Example; my next load is 583 miles. It delivers on the 21st, four days from now. I will pick up the load, drive 500 miles to Greensboro, NC. and call dispatch for a drop authorization. I will drop it in the yard and get a new load that delivers on Monday. Sometimes fr8 isn't available and I have to sit on a load. In such cases, I get within 75 miles of delivery point, message dispatch of my location and start drawing layover pay.
And now, back to the Rats. I wonder if they are just clueless to the way trucking works or if they are lazy. Maybe they just like to socialize. Whatever the reason they become Rats, they truly annoy me on so many levels. They are loud, obnoxious, know it alls that have seen and done all there is to do in trucking. Their attitudes are atrocious and they make sure everyone around them knows just how unhappy they are with the company.
The following are common statements of a Terminal Rat;
" I ain't getting no miles.
" My dispatcher has no idea what he's doing.
" That cup has been sitting on that table for weeks.
" I have the high score on the Ms. Pac Man game.
" Last weeks orientation class was bigger.
" I can't afford that, I work for** insert company name here.
" I'm looking for another company.
Terminal Rats also are known as Truck Stop Junkies.
They hang out in the truck stops playing the Cherry Master machines or racing the ponies on the Sega big screen. If a driver starts naming his ponies and telling you how many races his pony has won, he is not referring to The Kentucky Derby. He is racing virtual ponies. They breed, buy and sell virtual ponies. This pastime actually cost money. Money they don't have because they are in a truck stop playing ponies instead of driving.
As a trainer, I teach new drivers how to drive, run the Sat-com unit, company policy and how to make the most of his/her time out on the road. Too many drivers out here are spending all they make living on the road. The keys to being a successful driver is working the system, maintaining a good attitude and not hitting anything. The latter two, I will save for another day. As Paul Harvey always says, "Now you know the rest of the story. Good day."

9:57pm: Passing in a Governed Truck
"And the race is on and here comes pride up the backstretch, heartache is going to the inside." The Race is On, Some country artist circa 1960?
I wrote a new chorus to that song and a goes like this;
And the race is on and here comes Prime up the backstretch,
Schneider is going to the inside,
Werner is falling back and he's trying not to cry.
JB's out of the running 'cause the rig is just to slow.
Yes, the race is on but it looks like Swift wins so now we all can go.
I told you I have a lot of time on my mind. Passing in a governed truck is an art form. We have to factor in the other trucks speed and weight plus our speed and weight plus the length and steepness of the grade. We have to wait until there is no one faster than us coming up behind because we don't want to slow the super truckers down. When then time is ripe, we get out there in the hammer lane and go for it. Sometimes I feel like the little engine that could. "I think I can, I think I can but no, not this time. Wait for the next downgrade and try again." If the slower truck is heavier than us, we have to get them on the uphill. That's harder because we have to pass slower due to our weight therefore slowing other traffic down. When that happens they give me the single finger wave, letting me know that I am number one.
Occasionally, after a grueling time of passing, a four wheeler will sneak in to my right before I can get back in the granny lane. Well, sneak in isn't exactly accurate, whip in is the correct term. I now have a car on my right and the driver starts to pace me. It's not purposeful; he just got there and now has no clue as to what he should do. Should he speed up and pass me? What if I don't see him? So he just hangs out back there too close to my bumper for me to safely change lanes. I'll help him make a decision. I turn on my blinker and now he freezes like a deer in the headlights. It takes about thirty seconds and then a path is chosen. He will either put the hammer down to get ahead or he will brake and fall back. Either way, in his mind, I endangered him, his family and half of the people in his hometown by nearly crushing him. He does not understand that if he had held on for another twenty seconds, I would have been safely in the right lane and out of his way. I am also number one in his mind. Bad trucker!

9:56pm: Time Wasters
"We tore up all of our swindle sheets and left 'em laying on the scales. We crashed the gate going ninety eight and said let them truckers roll, 10/4" C.W. McCall, Convoy
DOT scales are a giant timewaster. I realize that they have to keep us in line and make sure the rigs are safe and aren't overloaded. That way, we are less of a danger to the motoring public. However, sometimes they just have us exit, roll over the scales and there's no one even in there to check our weight. A trucker's favorite word is CLOSED. That stands for Cops Laying On Scales Eating Doughnuts. Then we don't have to go in to the scales and break our rhythm. Yes, we have a rhythm and you left laners break it too. My favorite bumper sticker of all time said "The left lane is for turning, passing and idiots like you". I saw a truck once that had "thgir peek ciffart rewolS" on his grill. Read that with a mirror. My spell check had a hey day with that one.
Anyway, back to scales. My company provides Pre-Pass so I don't have to enter all scales. I usually get a green light on the in cab transponder, (I think that means it transmits and responds. Isn't that the same thing?), but not all scales are equipped with Pre-Pass. I don't know why not. They make a couple of cents each time a truck gets a signal from their transmitter. I like free money. I would think DOT would as well.
Today, I get to go in the sleeper and lie down every time we have to roll over scales. We picked up a load and our gross weight was 80920. That's a tad over 80000 so we had to take it back to the shipper, get a pallet removed and go 15 miles back to the truck stop and reweigh. We were under gross but over on all axles except the steers. The pin was in the first hole so we couldn't slide the axles on the trailer. I decided sliding the fifth wheel forward two slots would do it and it did. The only problem was it put us sixty pounds over on our steer tires, hence the sleeper over scales routine. So far, so good. Due to the over weight, we can only spot fuel. That means we use 50 gallons, fuel 50 gallons, use 50gal?.and so on. The adventure never ends. Oh good, we just got another green light.
Gourmet Bar-B-Que. Is that an oxymoron or is it just me?

9:55pm: Atchafalaya Swamp Freeway
"Jambalaya, crawfish pie, filet gumbo. For tonight I'm going to see my cherie mio. Son of gun, we're gonna have big fun on the bayou." Hank Williams Sr., On the Bayou.
Apparently there's an accident ahead. I know this because the bridge has become a parking lot. Commuters and travelers are getting out of cars and walking around, checking out the swamp below. If I turned on CB radio, I could find out what's going on but that wouldn't get me any further down the road. Not to mention, I would have to wade through the filth and idiocy that is the trucker channel we call Sesame Street to get a straight answer. I'll just wait till I get to it, whatever "it" is.
I may never know. Sometimes it's all cleaned up and gone before I get there. I guess I'll just sit here and look for gators down there.
The swamp is an extremely fascinating place. There are people living in there that have never driven a car, been to a Wal-Mart or even stepped foot on pavement. Supercenter? What's a supercenter? Some of them don't even speak the English language. They live in what we would call shacks built on stilts in the midst of the swamp, with no electricity or running water. They live the true simple life, not the Paris Hilton "simple life". It's certain, they don't have cable TV and broadband internet access however they have never had it so they don't miss it. I drive on and imagine them peering out from the trees, feeling sorry for me as I drive on day after day distressing about bills and internet access, smugly feeling sorry for them.
I long for the simple life but could I give up Yahoo Mail and Greys Anatomy? Probably, but would I? I hate the fact that I rely on Wal-Mart for food and incidentals. Our country has made leaps and bounds in progress in a short time since it was founded but are we better off? We're more comfortable but better off, I'm not so sure about. If trucks stopped hauling fr8, our society would fall upon it's backside in fear and trembling. What would we eat? How would we wipe those backsides we so recently fell on?
We live in a time that babies die in the New Orleans Super Dome of starvation and dehydration when a hurricane strikes. The hurricane didn't kill them. WIC did. WIC stands for Women, Infants and Children. It's a program conceived by the government to provide women with healthy foods while pregnant and nursing and to provide free formula for infants. If the women that were stuck in the Super Dome and the Convention Center had not had WIC, they would have, due to poverty, been forced to breast feed their babies. They had their breast with them in the shelters but WIC was no where to be found. Our bodies were designed to provide nourishment for our babies. The government wasn't. If that's not a wake up call to the masses, I don't know what is.
I am going to be in Jacksonville, Florida tonight so my trainee can see his family. It makes me miss my dysfunctional yet loving family all the more. That's for another day.

2:28pm: Blurty
I got a laptop finally. I will be posting more. Probably copies from my She Driver log. Something Like this.....

“On the road again. I just can’t wait to get on the road again.” Willie Nelson, On the Road Again. I have a song in my head for every state I travel and some for lots of other things as well.
People say a lot of dreadful things about women drivers. I like to believe I am a good driver; after all I am a professional. I drive a truck for a living. An eighteen wheeler, a big rig, a large car, and the list goes on. OTR is what they call it. That stands for Over The Road but it’s actually Over The Roads, plural. I have been to just about every state in the continental United States. I would say it’s over ALL roads but there are roads we aren’t allowed on, and for good reason. Hey, we’re allowed on some roads we shouldn’t be. It’s not just a job, it’s an adventure. I am a professional tourist that never gets to see the good stuff. I have a full list of places I want to go back and see in a four wheeler someday. I pass signs that describe out of the ordinary sights and parks that I can’t get a rig to. These are placed in the mental file for later viewing if I survive the adventure I’m on.
I have a great deal of time on my hands or in my head; however you want to say it. My hands are busy but the mind goes on and on. That’s what started this story, the time in my head. I see things that remind me of the past, make me ponder the present and inspire me to plan the future. I think about our society today, our way of life and sometimes just generally crazy things pop in my head for no reason. So sit back and enjoy the ride.

2:16pm: Trucking
I have signed on with US Xpress. I am leaving Sunday for orientation. I think i am going to go all 48 states. Theres more money in it and I would get to travel to places I have freinds and family. I may wait until spring to do it though due to the whole chaining up tires at Donner Pass and all. I can run regional until then.

In other news, Danna and Justin are never getting back together as far as I can tell. Danna is showing quite a bit now. The baby's name will be Charlie Abigail Davis.

Kara got her grant so she should start school in January. She is going to Texas on Monday for the Holiday. I would miss her but I won't be here either, I'll be on the road. I mean, I will miss her but I won't be sitting home all alone on Christmas missing her. That would be pathetic.

Gary, Mary and Micah seem to be doing well. I don't see them much since they moved out to Vance.

My Mother got commited to Bryce State Hospital. I went to see her the other day and she seems to be thinking more clearly so maybe they are helping her. It has helped me to be around her. I have let alot of hurt go due to it. She is old and sick and I just can't hate her anymore.

I guess there is no more news so I will get back to ya laterzzzzzzzzzz.

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4:03pm: OTR
I thi....no I know, I am going back OTR. I am either going with USxpress or May Transport. If I go May, I will be driving all 48 and US will be southeast regional. Maybe I will go May so I can go to WA and WY. People i need to see there.

Until later.....laterzzzz

4:48pm: Primestar and Juicy Juice Update
The neighbors caught on and I don't know the password. Sorry so long to say so but I haven't been online much.
So until later.......laterzzzzz

12:07am: Hi
I just wanna say I am alive still. I just have nothing interesting to say.

3:29am: Primestar and Juicy Juice
I finally built an antenna for my wireless connection to I don't know where that I think will give me a consistent connection. I have some modifications left to do to it. It's not quite like this one but it works. I had a cantenna but it has to be accurately aimed and since I don't know the signal comes from, that's tough. The Primestar dish kinda 'scoops' it up and 'stuffs' it in the can. Or at least that's the premise. We'll see.

Ok, been up WAAAAAAY past bedtime. I have a "needles" appt in the morning.

Until later.....laterzzzzzzz......
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