I'm sitting in my cab looking into the autumn woods. Found another place where I dare park nose-first, facing away from the crowd. It isn't as purely scenic as the one I mentioned elsewhere, but it's still a nice change.
The colors are a bit subdued where I am. Whether it's the colors themselves or the gray-sky-filtered light I'm seeing them by, the effect is a bit like a pastel drawing. Even the remaining greens are quiet.
Probably a good thing. It's relaxing to look at. And I could use a little relaxing.
The last two days haven't been all that relaxing. Not terribly profitable, either. Portioning out the blame for it could be complicated, and it would come firmly under the "spilled milk" heading, so I won't bore you with finger-pointing. Especially since one finger would be pointed back at me. But it might amuse you to see how much fun you can have with the hours-of-service thing I told you about some time back.*
Yesterday I told my dispatcher I would pick up a load in a certain place** at 1:00pm (Central time) and carry it to another place** about 550 miles away. At the time neither of us knew when the customer wanted it there.
Shortly thereafter I found a mechanical problem that might be extremely inconvenient down the road, if not positively unsafe. My company had a terminal nearby, so I let our mechanics look at the problem. It took longer than I thought to get everything straightened out, and I was late getting to the shipper. That might not have been too bad, but while the mechanical problem was being taken care of I finally found out when the load was due at the consignee: 7:00 am (Eastern time) the next day.
That sounds tough but not impossible, right? And it might well be, except for the rules we truckers must live by. If you haven't looked at the entry I referred to earlier, you might want to look at it now. The rest of this will make a bit more sense then.
***
Back already? Okay, I'll try to make this quick.
Consider a 7:00 am delivery 550 miles away. If you don't want to embarrass yourself too much, you aren't going to be casually optimistic about your average speed on a run that long. This one was mostly on Interstates, so you'd probably assume about 50mph.*** So it's going to take you somewhere around eleven hours.
That's all the driving you can legally do in a day. And you did have to get here to pick the load up, right? If you're like me, you had to finish up the previous one, too. So you don't have eleven hours left.
So you'll have to take a rest break. Ten hours worth--that's the rule. Which means you need to plan on twenty-one hours for the trip. And twenty-one hours before 7:00 am is 10:00 o'clock--9:00 am Central--the previous morning. Which is four hours BEFORE you were supposed to pick the shipment up--never mind how long it'll take them to load the stuff in your trailer.
Now, let me add one more bit of background. I accepted this assignment at about 9:00am Central. I was about 80 or 90 miles from the shipper at the time.
Do you see a problem here? I, unfortunately, didn't.
And it gets cuter. Let's pretend you prefer to drive at night. You got loaded first thing when you got up. And you're sure you can average better than 50 mph. So you're going to just drive straight through--nine to eleven hours of hard driving and you're there. Not a problem now, right?
Wrong. Remember the rule that says "fourteen hours after you start your day you can't drive any more?" Well, fourteen hours before 7:00 am is 9:00 pm the night before. This time the time zone change helps you--it's only 8:00 pm where you're picking up the load.
Which means you're only SEVEN hours late. The people in the warehouse only went home three hours before you got there.
***
So by the time I was assigned the load, NOBODY could get it there on time. Not legally, anyway.
Now, if somebody had noticed the zinger in time, we might could have salvaged the situation. Maybe arranged for a repower.**** (They tried, but it's not always easy to do on short notice.) Or at least given the customer plenty of warning. As it was, there was embarrassment and annoyance all around.
My dispatcher or my load planner should have caught this. Neither did. But then, my dispatcher has at least thirty other trucks to worry about--and that's on a SLOW day. And the load planner is working with a BUNCH of dispatchers. Who has time?
And it's my responsibility to do my job safely and legally--which means refusing jobs I CAN'T do safely and legally. So I end up being the backstop in this process. This time I didn't catch the problem either. And a good stressful time was had all around.
So here I am, sitting in my cab, looking into the woods and forgetting all my troubles for a while. Or I would be if I weren't busy writing about them.
Maybe I should stop writing now.
Ahhhhhhhh. Pretty...
-----
*See the entry for 08/07/2008: "TYTFG* #3: Nine to Five (or the equivalent thereof)"
**I'm not supposed to talk about where I am or what I'm doing. You'd be surprised at how many people make a living stealing stuff from trucks, and how many companies try to find clever new phrases to replace "Loose lips sink ships."
***Yeah, the speed limit's higher most places--but your truck has a governor on it, and several states still insist big trucks mustn't do over 55. And you ARE going to take restroom breaks, right? Please?
And we won't discuss how long it would take you on NON-interstates...
****Trading loads with another driver partway there--as described elsewhere. Where on a blog can you put a glossary?
Friday, October 24, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Vocabulary lesson #3
A laptop has many uses. Tonight, once I get through here, it will become an extremely expensive alarm clock.
I forgot the cheap ones, y'see. And I still haven't replaced the cell. So my laptop is all I have. I picked up a freeware timer at one point, and it has an alarm clock function. So I'll run it all night, and hope it doesn't run down the truck batteries.
I don't know if it will, y'see. I have never been in this truck before.
Your word for today:
Slip-seating
When a driver is not assigned to a single truck. He slips into the seat, drives the truck for the length of his current assignment, then slips out of the seat and another driver slips in. Guess where the name comes from.
Slip-seating is not popular among drivers, from what I have heard these past few months. Companies love it, of course--to them it means the truck is in more or less constant use, making the most of the money they spent on it. To the driver, it means he doesn't know what to expect when he comes to work.
What truck does he get?
Does it run?
Is it clean?
What quirks does it have? (I've been in a truck where the Jake brake (see previous entry on that subject) only works while you're stepping on the brake pedal. Since the whole idea of a Jake brake is to let you use the regular brakes less...)
I drove a taxi for a while. More accurately, I drove for a taxi company--I didn't have a cab of my own. All of the above applied. It was not pleasant.
But for a truck driver it can be worse. The truck cab is your workplace. Even a day-cab driver has a tendency to personalize it. Imagine if you came in to work every morning with all your office supplies, and then hunted around the building to see which cubicle you were sitting in today. And whether the phone works. And whether the chair has a working backrest.
For an over-the-road driver, out for a week or more at a time in a sleeper cab, it's worse still. The truck is your second home. If you go by the time you spend there, you might call it your first home. Imagine if your job required you to live in a hotel room, and to move to another room every week.
And see whether the phone works. And whether the chair has a working backrest.
I spent several months driving my "own" truck. It was pleasant, in its own way. But I was out for three and four weeks at a time, and my wife needed me home more often than that. So I found a way to get home for three days out of every ten. To do that, I have to slip-seat.
It's not as bad as it sounds above. I don't get a different truck every time I go in, for instance. I'm one of three drivers who rotate through two trucks. Kind of a time-share thing.
So I only have two trucks to get used to. And I don't have to worry about the previous driver being a chain-smoker. But I still have to bring all my stuff to the terminal at the beginning of each week of driving, and haul it all home at the end.
And a week ago I came to work, got in "my" truck, and found out it wasn't my truck any more. While I was at home the teams had been reshuffled. So I have two new trucks to get used to.
This ones seems to have a good set of batteries. The laptop will probably last long enough to wake me up in the morning. Probably.
G'night.
I forgot the cheap ones, y'see. And I still haven't replaced the cell. So my laptop is all I have. I picked up a freeware timer at one point, and it has an alarm clock function. So I'll run it all night, and hope it doesn't run down the truck batteries.
I don't know if it will, y'see. I have never been in this truck before.
Your word for today:
Slip-seating
When a driver is not assigned to a single truck. He slips into the seat, drives the truck for the length of his current assignment, then slips out of the seat and another driver slips in. Guess where the name comes from.
Slip-seating is not popular among drivers, from what I have heard these past few months. Companies love it, of course--to them it means the truck is in more or less constant use, making the most of the money they spent on it. To the driver, it means he doesn't know what to expect when he comes to work.
What truck does he get?
Does it run?
Is it clean?
What quirks does it have? (I've been in a truck where the Jake brake (see previous entry on that subject) only works while you're stepping on the brake pedal. Since the whole idea of a Jake brake is to let you use the regular brakes less...)
I drove a taxi for a while. More accurately, I drove for a taxi company--I didn't have a cab of my own. All of the above applied. It was not pleasant.
But for a truck driver it can be worse. The truck cab is your workplace. Even a day-cab driver has a tendency to personalize it. Imagine if you came in to work every morning with all your office supplies, and then hunted around the building to see which cubicle you were sitting in today. And whether the phone works. And whether the chair has a working backrest.
For an over-the-road driver, out for a week or more at a time in a sleeper cab, it's worse still. The truck is your second home. If you go by the time you spend there, you might call it your first home. Imagine if your job required you to live in a hotel room, and to move to another room every week.
And see whether the phone works. And whether the chair has a working backrest.
I spent several months driving my "own" truck. It was pleasant, in its own way. But I was out for three and four weeks at a time, and my wife needed me home more often than that. So I found a way to get home for three days out of every ten. To do that, I have to slip-seat.
It's not as bad as it sounds above. I don't get a different truck every time I go in, for instance. I'm one of three drivers who rotate through two trucks. Kind of a time-share thing.
So I only have two trucks to get used to. And I don't have to worry about the previous driver being a chain-smoker. But I still have to bring all my stuff to the terminal at the beginning of each week of driving, and haul it all home at the end.
And a week ago I came to work, got in "my" truck, and found out it wasn't my truck any more. While I was at home the teams had been reshuffled. So I have two new trucks to get used to.
This ones seems to have a good set of batteries. The laptop will probably last long enough to wake me up in the morning. Probably.
G'night.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Don't stop.
Sorry for the gap. It's been an interesting few weeks. Very much in the Chinese sense. Bits and pieces may have been entertaining or edifying. If so, they'll show up here eventually. But for now I'll let the sharp edges fade.
And in the meantime, where are we now? Ah, yes. I-285 around Atlanta. Just after rush hour. Average speed, 15-20 mph. Much stopping and going. Many people in various states of irritation.
Myself: No worries.
Quite a while ago I ran across an article on the Net called "The Fluid Dynamics of Traffic Flow."* The basic idea was that stop-and-go traffic has a lot in common with "hammering" in water pipes. Exactly how is more explanation than I really want to go into. Maybe you ought to read the original here**.
It was his suggestion about being part of the solution that got my attention. This part of the explanation I will paraphrase. I hope I get it right...
When you stop a car on a highway, the car behind you has to stop, too. And, more than likely, he'll stop right behind you. So he can't move until you do. And he can't really move until more than a half-second after you do--it'll take at least that much time for him to realize you're moving, and then move his foot off the brake and to the gas pedal. Add in the fact that it takes more power and more time to get moving from a dead stop than it does to accelerate while you're still moving, and you've got a noticeable delay between you starting back up and him starting back up.
Now let's talk about the lady who stopped right behind him.
And the tractor trailer that stopped right behind her.
The truck is a real problem, in fact. When IT stops, it WILL take a while to get going again. For the Trivial-Pursuit-minded among you, a big rig goes through at least five gears to get up to about 20 mph. Even with one of the new automatic transmissions, that's a long, slow process. And the car behind THAT thing? I guarantee you--the first hint HE has that things are moving again is when the truck's brake lights go out.
So what can you do?
Don't stop.
I try to make a game of it. We truckers (real and quasi-) are taught to look way down the road anyhow.*** So I sort of exaggerate that in heavy slow traffic. Slow down a good while before I get to a clog. Try to keep slowing gently, keeping plenty of space in front of me. If the clog stops completely, I slow down some more, but I don't stop if I can help it. And I watch the brake lights as far ahead as I can manage.
**
There. The eighth car in line ahead of me. Did he just let off his brakes?
Yes, he's moving, sort of. How long before the pickup behind him eases off his?
Good. Will the last car in line be moving by the time I get up there?
Darn. Okay, let's slow down a little more.
Still nope. Well, I've got room. Touch of brake. Down to ten. That enough? Yes! Another few seconds and--
Whoops. Looks like Christmas is coming again. Oh, well. Keep slowing. Even a mile an hour is better than a dead stop. (It really is.)
Ah, there we go. Creeping along, but moving. And I've still got fifty feet. Make that thirty--somebody just pulled into the gap I left. Well, believe it or not, that evens out in the end. Strange but true. See? That guy four cars up that just pulled into the left lane? Told ya.
**
Think if it as a hand of solitaire. It doesn't get me where I'm going any faster, but it does several other things, most of them useful.
It helps smooth out the traffic behind me. As long as I'm moving, the car on my tail may well be moving too. The people behind him aren't stopping-and-going either. If I'm lucky, I'm being a public benefactor.
It cuts down on the tailgating a tiny bit. People aren't quite as likely to stop right there, touching my bumper, if I'm still moving and could stand on my brakes any minute. This makes things a LITTLE safer.
It keeps me from going insane, sitting here on a six-lane highway moving at walking speed. I have something to do. Think of it as my version of those road-sign games people try to get their kids to play on long trips.
Who knows? It might cut down on the madness behind me. Going slow is frustrating, but not as frustrating as sitting still, and then moving ten feet, and then sitting still again. Not to me, anyway, so maybe not to the people back there. I can hope, anyway.
Ah. Speed is rising. We're moving at forty-plus. Much better.
(The preceding blog entry was a flashback. I was not really typing and driving in heavy traffic at the same time. Some things are best left to IMAGINARY professionals...)
----
*Some of you may have heard this before--those who know me from Myriad, anyway. Well, tough. I'm gonna pretend other people read this, too.
**It appears the original article has expanded noticeably. My post may duplicate a lot of what's on the site. Well, a little redundant repetition can be usefully beneficial...
***Oh, that's right. I haven't done the mandatory lecture about safe spacing, have I? Well, not today. And if I get around to it, I'll try to avoid TRUE dullness...
And in the meantime, where are we now? Ah, yes. I-285 around Atlanta. Just after rush hour. Average speed, 15-20 mph. Much stopping and going. Many people in various states of irritation.
Myself: No worries.
Quite a while ago I ran across an article on the Net called "The Fluid Dynamics of Traffic Flow."* The basic idea was that stop-and-go traffic has a lot in common with "hammering" in water pipes. Exactly how is more explanation than I really want to go into. Maybe you ought to read the original here**.
It was his suggestion about being part of the solution that got my attention. This part of the explanation I will paraphrase. I hope I get it right...
When you stop a car on a highway, the car behind you has to stop, too. And, more than likely, he'll stop right behind you. So he can't move until you do. And he can't really move until more than a half-second after you do--it'll take at least that much time for him to realize you're moving, and then move his foot off the brake and to the gas pedal. Add in the fact that it takes more power and more time to get moving from a dead stop than it does to accelerate while you're still moving, and you've got a noticeable delay between you starting back up and him starting back up.
Now let's talk about the lady who stopped right behind him.
And the tractor trailer that stopped right behind her.
The truck is a real problem, in fact. When IT stops, it WILL take a while to get going again. For the Trivial-Pursuit-minded among you, a big rig goes through at least five gears to get up to about 20 mph. Even with one of the new automatic transmissions, that's a long, slow process. And the car behind THAT thing? I guarantee you--the first hint HE has that things are moving again is when the truck's brake lights go out.
So what can you do?
Don't stop.
I try to make a game of it. We truckers (real and quasi-) are taught to look way down the road anyhow.*** So I sort of exaggerate that in heavy slow traffic. Slow down a good while before I get to a clog. Try to keep slowing gently, keeping plenty of space in front of me. If the clog stops completely, I slow down some more, but I don't stop if I can help it. And I watch the brake lights as far ahead as I can manage.
**
There. The eighth car in line ahead of me. Did he just let off his brakes?
Yes, he's moving, sort of. How long before the pickup behind him eases off his?
Good. Will the last car in line be moving by the time I get up there?
Darn. Okay, let's slow down a little more.
Still nope. Well, I've got room. Touch of brake. Down to ten. That enough? Yes! Another few seconds and--
Whoops. Looks like Christmas is coming again. Oh, well. Keep slowing. Even a mile an hour is better than a dead stop. (It really is.)
Ah, there we go. Creeping along, but moving. And I've still got fifty feet. Make that thirty--somebody just pulled into the gap I left. Well, believe it or not, that evens out in the end. Strange but true. See? That guy four cars up that just pulled into the left lane? Told ya.
**
Think if it as a hand of solitaire. It doesn't get me where I'm going any faster, but it does several other things, most of them useful.
It helps smooth out the traffic behind me. As long as I'm moving, the car on my tail may well be moving too. The people behind him aren't stopping-and-going either. If I'm lucky, I'm being a public benefactor.
It cuts down on the tailgating a tiny bit. People aren't quite as likely to stop right there, touching my bumper, if I'm still moving and could stand on my brakes any minute. This makes things a LITTLE safer.
It keeps me from going insane, sitting here on a six-lane highway moving at walking speed. I have something to do. Think of it as my version of those road-sign games people try to get their kids to play on long trips.
Who knows? It might cut down on the madness behind me. Going slow is frustrating, but not as frustrating as sitting still, and then moving ten feet, and then sitting still again. Not to me, anyway, so maybe not to the people back there. I can hope, anyway.
Ah. Speed is rising. We're moving at forty-plus. Much better.
(The preceding blog entry was a flashback. I was not really typing and driving in heavy traffic at the same time. Some things are best left to IMAGINARY professionals...)
----
*Some of you may have heard this before--those who know me from Myriad, anyway. Well, tough. I'm gonna pretend other people read this, too.
**It appears the original article has expanded noticeably. My post may duplicate a lot of what's on the site. Well, a little redundant repetition can be usefully beneficial...
***Oh, that's right. I haven't done the mandatory lecture about safe spacing, have I? Well, not today. And if I get around to it, I'll try to avoid TRUE dullness...
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