I just learned this.

I was just looking at a pickup truck on ebay that’s in Dixon, Wy.  I decided to find out where Dixon is.  It’s in south-central Wyoming, just north of the Colorado line, in Carbon County.  Dixon has a population of 79, but has a population density of 584 people per square mile.   That cracked me up, because I thought that sounded dense, but Knox County’s is 751 per square mile.  Carbon County has 15,000 or so people, with a population density of 2 people per square mile, which is pretty bad ass.  But the extremely bad ass thing I learned is that part of Carbon County used to be part of the Republic of Texas.  I had no idea that it extended up that far.  If Texas was still a country that governed itself like the State does now, I would live there.  I might move there anyway.  I might even get a “Sam Houston is my President” bumper sticker.

Stuck accelerator.

This will be short, but I just read a news story about Toyota recalling 3.8 million cars for floormats.  Yep floormats.  They apparently slide up too far and make the accelerator stick.  I want to throw this out there for something to keep in the back of your mind in case your accelerator ever sticks, and it’s happened to me (not from floormats).  THROW THE SON OF A BITCH IN NEUTRAL!  Stop the car.  Turn it off.  Yes, if you are driving an older car without electronic controls, this might hurt the engine, but all of these newer cars have rev limiters to keep this from happening.  By newer, I mean post mid-eighties, so probably all of you, including you Volvo owners.  Besides, the engine is probably going to be in bad shape if you run into a tree anyway.  I also want to throw this out there-if you are in a similar situation, but the car won’t go into neutral, just turn the car off.  Don’t turn the key back to the position that locks the steering wheel, just enough to turn it off.  Yes, you will lose your power steering, and, to a lesser extent, your power brakes, but they will still work.  Even in this day of electronic controls, your feet and hands still put direct pressure on the brakes and steering box.

I’m sorry this is what I write about after a hiatus, but I think that common sense stuff like this should be required knowledge to get a driver’s license, and since it’s not, I’m telling you.  I usually don’t think about stuff like this, I just kind of assume everyone knows it, but a California State Trooper was driving a Lexus with his family in it when the accelerator stuck on him.  He managed to drive at 120mph for a couple of minutes before wrecking.  He didn’t know any better, so I guess I don’t know why I should expect anyone else to.

I guess to give a little update on me, I got over the food poisoning, but I’m sitting in Humble, TX, not having any luck finding a load.  This is especially irritating since I stayed out this weekend because I couldn’t find a load home, and came to Texas instead.  I’m planning on heading towards Texarkana in the morning and hoping to find something over there, or towards Little Rock.  I am so ready to be home.

Same old friend plan.

This was a comment on the last post, but I decided it was too long, it needs its own post.

Anna Laura, I couldn’t help you out with an alignment, even if you were rich. It takes a pretty serious set of specialized tools. Now, if you want to take it somewhere and get it checked, I can help you replace the parts, and then you could take it back to get aligned. I recommend Pete’s alignment, they are on Oklahoma, which is two blocks north of Baxter on Central. They’re supposed to be the best in town, and if they can’t align it because it needs parts, they will tell you what it needs and offer to fix it or let you bring it back. I just looked up the parts for your car, they are cheap (unless you need the whole rack which is $230), $25 for a tie rod end and $10 for a ball joint. You will eventually spend more in tires than you will on the alignment, so it’s worth it for that alone, not even counting the safety aspect.

Natalie, your car isn’t even close to being a hoopti, it just leaks oil, right? As long as it doesn’t get so bad you can’t keep oil in it, you can drive it cross-country. Your front crank seal is $28 and your cam seal is $10.

So how about this deal, since I don’t have any rich friends with broken down cars-feed me, keep loving me, and be on call to help me if I need a hand with something working on my vehicles, and I will help you all fix yours, and hopefully teach you something at the same time. My Dad taught me a little about working on cars, but I got most of my knowledge from reading. Those Haynes manuals they sell at Auto Zone aren’t perfect, but you can learn a lot just by reading the step-by-step instructions. They also have a great troubleshooting guide. Anna Laura, I’m pretty sure you should have one for that car, I know I had one for it, and I would hope I gave it to you. These internet forums for specific vehicles are great too, you have to wade through the bs to get to the information, but there are lots of places where people will take lots of pictures and do write-ups of repairs on their cars. Learning technical stuff is more about understanding the jargon than actual learning. Read and try to wrap your brain around how things work. The actual wrenching side just takes a little experience, you can’t really write a book about the best way to get a wrench into a tight spot.

Homework assignment-search the internet and learn how an automotive electric relay works, and why they are used. They are simple, but really pretty ingenious. Google it, you should have it figured out in 10-15 minutes, and you will have one up on a lot of men.

Now go read up, and let’s fix something this weekend.

New Business Plan

Step one-ditch my poor friends with broken down cars.

Step two-get some rich friends with broken down cars.

Step three-convince new friends to let me work on their cars.

Step four-sell thirteen letter shit spreader (International).

Step five-rake in the dough.

Step six-Like I’m telling you, I will be so gone.

Step seven-comment on my own blog, because I won’t have any friends.

Alright-a new post.

Well, I don’t have a lot of time, but it has been way too long.  I’ll just impart a piece of wisdom an old-timer gave me this morning-

“The best way to make a dollar trucking is to start out with two.”  How true.

I am getting ready to leave Charleston, SC for Knoxville.  I just changed out of my sopping wet (with sweat) clothes, and I am wearing my comfortable shoes and Jaden’s favorite shirt (the blue and red one).  Love to all.

(no sleep ’til) Brooklyn, Ia

I’m here at the Kwik Star Truck Stop and Pine Cone Restaurant in Brooklyn, Iowa.  I’ve actually been here for almost a day now, I think my brain needed to do some catching up.  I delivered in Chicago Monday morning, then picked up the load coming to Iowa that afternoon.  It had two stops about fifteen miles apart in Victor and Belle Plaine, Ia.  I took this coming into the Iowa River valley, heading north on Iowa Highway 21 towards Belle Plaine;

There is something about looking at the high, white clouds in the blue sky this time of the year that just makes it look hot.  It was hot here yesterday afternoon, about 97 and humid.  After I got empty, I headed back down 21 to the truckstop, looked around for loads a little, and went in to eat lunch.  Before I ordered, I saw that they had pie in the cooler, and it looked like the real deal, no pie filling from a can.  Well, sure nuff…

Really, there is nothing like a tall glass of sweet tea and a cold piece of apple pie on a hot day.  This huge piece of pie was only $2.95 by the way, the Tomato Head can seriously kiss it.  I sat around and watched the news in the air conditioning as long as I could, then came back out to my truck, which I was dreading because I would have to run it and waste fuel to keep comfortable.  This was when it was about 97, when I came back to my truck at about three.  At about four, you could see a big dark storm cloud coming in from the northwest.  The wind picked up, and it started cooling off about a degree a minute, down to 71 at twenty till five when I took this;

It wasn’t even raining yet here, just blowing hard and lightning way off in the distance.  Well, it rained hard for about an hour, then started raining even harder, and then totally died out and started clearing off almost instantly.  It cleared off in a way that you just knew the sunset was going to be great, and it was.  This doesn’t do it justice at all, in size or coloration.

 The main part of the sunset probably coverd 140 degrees of the horizon, and the clouds in the east were lit up pink from the reflections.  Truly amazing.  I guess it takes a big sky for that kind of sunset, we don’t get that kind of line of sight in the hills.

 I’m still sitting here a day later because no one seems to have any freight that’s paying anything.  I’ve been doing well the last couple of weeks until this point, so I’m not in a big hurry to go anywhere for not enough money, which is all they’ve had to offer.  I may end up leaving here and heading back towards Chicago if nothing turns up soon.  

 That’s about it I guess.  I am ready to come home and go camping.

McComb, Ms

  I don’t know if all my posts are always going to be titled for the town I’m in, but that’s how I’ll do it for now anyway.

  I am at the Fernwood Truck Stop, which is a nice old place on the west side of I-55.  I was here last in January, and I took a picture in the restaurant that I made my header photo here.  I wish I was hungry, I would like to go inside and eat just to have the experience again.  Since I was here, Love’s has built a “travel center,” complete with a Mcdonald’s, across the street.  Assholes.  There are plenty of other places here they could’ve built around here other than across the street from an established truckstop.  Fortunately, the Fernwood has a big garage and tire shop, and a local log truck company is based out of here, so I think they’ll be ok.  

  Every year, the DOT has a 72 hour truck enforcement bliss, and it’s going on today through Thursday.  I apparently got out of Texas just before they started up, and didn’t really see anything special from there to here.  I am all for keeping the roads safe, and I think these things are necessary, but I wish they would enforce the laws equally.  I see a whole lot more cars with lights out or cracked windshields than trucks.  When was the last time you checked to see if all your lights were working?  And I know it would be silly to ask when the last time you inspected your brakes or checked your power steering fluid was.  I am required, by law, to check that stuff every day.  In accidents involving cars and trucks, the driver of the car is at fault over 70% of the time.  I personally have been in four accidents in a truck, one of which was my fault, so I guess I bear that statistic out.  I don’t disagree with holding trucks and truck drivers to higher standards, we are professionals, and our vehicles have potential to inflict more significant damage.  Enough of that, I could go on forever.

  I might add more later, but I’ve worked up an appetite for some culture.

  Drive friendly.

  Well, I went inside and had a big serving of culture, with a side of grilled pork chops, cole slaw, and sweet tea.  Some old black men came in right after I ordered, and sat down at the counter with me.  Claude didn’t want a salad tonight, he had a taste for a hamburger, dry, no onions.  He put four creamers in his coffee and asked me for a light.  Leroy was talking about how his Cadillac had such a big tank he could drive to New Orleans, back to McComb, and back to New Orleans without stopping for gas.  And that ain’t just drivin’ there, that’s ridin’ around too.  Claude said that his old Fleetwood had a 350, a small block, and it would go to New Orleans and back twice, drive to work every day in between, and still have a quarter of a tank when he got back.  Then they talked about old Mike, the school bus driver, and how he was always getting lost on his route.  

  ”Miss Purvis would always call the principal, wantin’ to know where was Kenny at, and Mike’d be out there drivin the bus around in circles.”  Then they all agreed it was sad when Mike died of Alzheimer’s last summer.  There was talk about how Todd had come to drive for Fernwood, but then McComb called and told him they’d give him a new bus with air conditioning, and he called Fernwood and told them where to get the bus.  

  I’m afraid when I get to be that age, there won’t be any more Fernwood truck stops to sit around at, and if there are, people won’t mingle in to talk.  Maybe I’m wrong, I’m sure someone was thinking the same thing in 1963.  The world has been changing at an unrelenting pace for the last century, but there are still little pockets that change much slower than others.  Who knows.

  I can’t believe I didn’t mention this before, but McComb has a special place in my heart.  Jerry Clower always used McComb as a landmark when he was describing where his hometown of Liberty, MS.

  ”If you go towards the tracks of the Illinois Central Railroad, whichever side you live on, and go to McComb, Mississippi, and head out in the woods, due west, about twelve miles, and slam on brakes, you’d be right smack in the middle of East Fork Community, Route 4, Liberty, Missippi.”  We listened to Jerry Clower a lot growing up, and I always felt a kinship to him, but Mississippi sounded like a far off distant land.  I love being here as an adult, and seeing the no frills lives of the people here, a true spirit of community, and an abundance of common sense.  That’s what I want when I grow up.

Amelia, Va

If I don’t start now, in the middle, I will never start, before the end.

My name is Josh, I live in Knoxville, Tn, and I am a truck driver. I drove a truck for the first time six years ago this week, but I was born with diesel in my blood and ninety-weight oil on my brain at 12:51 PM on the last Friday of 1979. That will do for now, and I’ll start in the middle.

I’m shut down for the day at the 360 Truck Stop on US 360 in Amelia, Va. There aren’t a whole lot of “Truck Stops” left anymore-most of them are chains that are as uniform as any two Wal-Marts, and they call themselves “Travel Centers.” This is a truck stop. The restaurant has wood veneer paneling, booths and barstools with red cushions, and a “no smoking” sign over the pinball machine. Every table has an ashtray. There is a clock on the wall with no hands and a painting of the Last Supper on the face, and three pictures of a grist mill that look like they’ve been yellowing in the fluorescent light since 1983. When I walked in, Jim Reeves was playing on the jukebox, which instantly picked my mood up about three notches, and I high-stepped it on into the bathroom. When I came back out and sat down at the bar, the cook put out her cigarette and asked me if I really intended on making her work for a living. This place might have the best jukebox I’ve ever seen. I picked “Lonesome, Ornery, and Mean,”(Waylon) “Lost Highway,”(Hank) and “Phantom 309″(Red). I sat back down, smoked, listened, and thought about all the cars that have cut me off, all the forklift operators who have taken their lunch breaks before finishing unloading me, and all the dispatchers who never care about me unless I’m late, and grinned to myself about how they’re all a bunch of suckers for paying me to do this job.