It's been a slow day. I slept through most of it.
Sunday is the usual "nothing day" on this job, but not always. And I suppose right after Christmas is going to be a little odd in any case. But for whatever reason, I delivered a load last night and I don't have another load until Sunday afternoon. Not good for business, but not too terribly bad for sitting and thinking.
This morning the driver "next door" wanted to know if I was about to get breakfast. I told him I was too broke and we both laughed a little. Then we compared notes and I found he might be broker than I was. (Scary, that.) Between the holidays and truck problems, he was really short on miles.
And even so, he suggested I have breakfast on him.
I told him I had food in the truck, and we parted amiably, he to the restaurant and I to my bed again**. A good ten minutes went by before it occurred to me--maybe he just wanted someone to talk to. And thought spending part of his last five dollars in pocket money on a stranger's breakfast would be worth it.
That's happened to me before. Twice, in the last few months. Once a gentleman told me that he'd ordered too much and the rest would be thrown away if I didn't help out. The other time someone flat told me he'd like to talk, and he'd buy me coffee so the waitress wouldn't feel put-upon. Both times we sat and talked about anything and everything for an hour or more, before the other fellow had to get back in his truck and go on.
And I still didn't pick up on it this time. I'm kind of ashamed.
I should have gotten it a lot sooner. And of course I have, intellectually. I've heard the songs. I've seen the bull sessions that pop up at truck stops among total strangers. And similar ones on the CB, that last for as long as the trucks involved are within range. As I said above, I've even had people bribe me to talk to them. But until this morning I hadn't realized what all that implied.
I'm solitary by nature. I like having time to stare at walls or out windows. To me, time alone is time to think, and before this job I often didn't get enough of it. If there are people to talk to, I'll talk to them. And enjoy it. But I'm not as social a creature as a lot of the people I know.
For a lot of my life, that's been a liability. I never really understood pep rallies in high school. And I was never up on the latest gossip. The old office grapevine always passed me by. Et cetera.
In this job it may well be an advantage. Sheer loneliness isn't something that gets to me often. And it seems to be an occupational hazard out here. Not a huge insight. And it's kind of scary that I didn't really see it until now.
I wish I'd caught on a little sooner. I still wouldn't have let the guy buy me breakfast. But I could have bought a cup of coffee.
I think I'll try calling my wife now.
-----
*Things You Took For Granted
**I'd come up to the cab for a moment, for some reason I no longer remember--no, he didn't beat on the door or anything.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
The blind leading the blind
There is a gate to my right, next to the the dock I'm parked in this morning. It's firmly padlocked. Grass has grown up on both sides. A dumpster is sitting right in front of it. The part of the parking lot it opens onto is marked "reserved for storing old vending machines." At the moment the vending machine stack doesn't quite reach this far, so my truck is the only thing completely blocking the way into the yard from that gate--if you could break the lock and dig the grass out.
Entry from that direction is a hard right turn off a residential-size street that dead-ends about five feet past the gate. Well, actually it makes a 90-degree turn onto an equally small street. A UPS van might could make the turn. I wouldn't want to try it in anything bigger. It's about the same as the turn to get onto that street in the first place.
You may wonder why I'm so fascinated with that gate. Well, it's simple enough.
My GPS told me that was the way in here.
My truck has a GPS built into its satcom unit. It's incredibly handy at times, but neither the company nor my trainer entirely trusts it. My first trip by myself I found myself in total agreement with them. Modern satellite navigation and computerized maps are wonderful things, but they do have their limitations. In the case of this particular system, these include:
1) I don't control the destination settings.
The company sends them when they send me my load information. That's usually not a problem, but the first time I hauled a load on my own I found myself in the heart of Cape Cod, staring at a screen that insisted a warehouse in Pocasset was actually in the middle of a residential neighborhood in Buzzards Bay. No harm came of it, but it sure was educational.
A more subtle form of the disease has shown up seveal times since--like some of the online map sites, my truck's GPS has a "drop back and punt" mode for when it can't find an address in its database. Judging by the maps confused people have waved to me in my home town, I think some of the online services will direct you to the geographical center of the zip code. This machine seems to direct you either to the exact center of town or to the post office--I haven't had the nerve to go find out which. I'm just pretty sure that the big truck stop isn't in the middle of the courthouse square...
Less harmful and more amusing are all the truck stops that are in the exact center of the interstate, right where it crosses a highway. The address did say I-23 and State Route 456, didn't it?
2) I don't control the route selection.
Neither does the company. The machine computes its own "most efficient route." And what it thinks is "most efficient" can be odd sometimes. It's especially fond of cutting corners--adding 3 or 4 extra turns to save you a mile.
Of course, if you ignore the machine it will (usually) stop nagging you with helpful hints on how to turn around and get on the "right" road, and figure you a new route based on the direction you're actually going. So that's what you end up doing a lot of the time.
Which is why I ended up way out of my way once. I missed a turn, and ignored the GPS for some time afterward. As many times as it had cried "Wolf!"...
3) I don't control the display.
There is no button I can push to zoom out and figure which way the Interstate is. Or whatever. And it's always in "Turn by Turn" mode, zooming in on the next place you're supposed to make a right (so you don't miss it).
Which means if you don't want to turn there, you can't tell what other streets are nearby. The street you're looking for might be fifty yards down, but by the time the map scale would show it, the machine is fixated on that shortcut at the next intersection.
4) The directions can be fascinating.
There's nothing like a map with a nice big bright line leading up to the intesection and then going left--while large friendly letters say "Turn right at Zinnia Street."
Or a line that runs on forever in the direction you're going (which you know is the right direction) and the large friendly letters that say "Turn around on I 41." And wants you to do it thirty miles ahead.
And about half the time, there's a big bright arrow on the map pointing away from your road, in some direction that seems to have nothing to do with anything you're doing.
I get the impression this particular software just grabs the nearest appropriate map tile and (supposedly) the right words from a database. But if so, its search algorithms are kind of, um, off.
All this is probably just this particular software package. I'm told there's supposed to be an update coming out that will do something about at least some of these problems. And if I had any money to spare, I could buy a commercial GPS unit that would do a better job--or so other drivers tell me. But then there's the real kicker.
5) To a computer, a road is a road is a road.
All these gadgets are supposed to include a database of places you shouldn't go. I haven't seen any of them I can trust. So far, I've had computers try to lead me
Oh, yes, and they've tried to get me to come into a plant through a back gate that hasn't been opened in two or three years. Which brings us back to the present.
Fortunately, I had directions from the customer. If you've read my "Adventures in navigation" series you know how far I trust those, but they're usually more reliable than the magic box. When the two contradict each other I usually follow the directions, cross checking them against the GPS--and frantically looking for plan B in case they're BOTH wrong. This time I ended up coming through the front gate--after turning around twice trying to find it.
Not bad, all things considered.
Entry from that direction is a hard right turn off a residential-size street that dead-ends about five feet past the gate. Well, actually it makes a 90-degree turn onto an equally small street. A UPS van might could make the turn. I wouldn't want to try it in anything bigger. It's about the same as the turn to get onto that street in the first place.
You may wonder why I'm so fascinated with that gate. Well, it's simple enough.
My GPS told me that was the way in here.
My truck has a GPS built into its satcom unit. It's incredibly handy at times, but neither the company nor my trainer entirely trusts it. My first trip by myself I found myself in total agreement with them. Modern satellite navigation and computerized maps are wonderful things, but they do have their limitations. In the case of this particular system, these include:
1) I don't control the destination settings.
The company sends them when they send me my load information. That's usually not a problem, but the first time I hauled a load on my own I found myself in the heart of Cape Cod, staring at a screen that insisted a warehouse in Pocasset was actually in the middle of a residential neighborhood in Buzzards Bay. No harm came of it, but it sure was educational.
A more subtle form of the disease has shown up seveal times since--like some of the online map sites, my truck's GPS has a "drop back and punt" mode for when it can't find an address in its database. Judging by the maps confused people have waved to me in my home town, I think some of the online services will direct you to the geographical center of the zip code. This machine seems to direct you either to the exact center of town or to the post office--I haven't had the nerve to go find out which. I'm just pretty sure that the big truck stop isn't in the middle of the courthouse square...
Less harmful and more amusing are all the truck stops that are in the exact center of the interstate, right where it crosses a highway. The address did say I-23 and State Route 456, didn't it?
2) I don't control the route selection.
Neither does the company. The machine computes its own "most efficient route." And what it thinks is "most efficient" can be odd sometimes. It's especially fond of cutting corners--adding 3 or 4 extra turns to save you a mile.
Of course, if you ignore the machine it will (usually) stop nagging you with helpful hints on how to turn around and get on the "right" road, and figure you a new route based on the direction you're actually going. So that's what you end up doing a lot of the time.
Which is why I ended up way out of my way once. I missed a turn, and ignored the GPS for some time afterward. As many times as it had cried "Wolf!"...
3) I don't control the display.
There is no button I can push to zoom out and figure which way the Interstate is. Or whatever. And it's always in "Turn by Turn" mode, zooming in on the next place you're supposed to make a right (so you don't miss it).
Which means if you don't want to turn there, you can't tell what other streets are nearby. The street you're looking for might be fifty yards down, but by the time the map scale would show it, the machine is fixated on that shortcut at the next intersection.
4) The directions can be fascinating.
There's nothing like a map with a nice big bright line leading up to the intesection and then going left--while large friendly letters say "Turn right at Zinnia Street."
Or a line that runs on forever in the direction you're going (which you know is the right direction) and the large friendly letters that say "Turn around on I 41." And wants you to do it thirty miles ahead.
And about half the time, there's a big bright arrow on the map pointing away from your road, in some direction that seems to have nothing to do with anything you're doing.
I get the impression this particular software just grabs the nearest appropriate map tile and (supposedly) the right words from a database. But if so, its search algorithms are kind of, um, off.
All this is probably just this particular software package. I'm told there's supposed to be an update coming out that will do something about at least some of these problems. And if I had any money to spare, I could buy a commercial GPS unit that would do a better job--or so other drivers tell me. But then there's the real kicker.
5) To a computer, a road is a road is a road.
All these gadgets are supposed to include a database of places you shouldn't go. I haven't seen any of them I can trust. So far, I've had computers try to lead me
- under 12'9" underpasses, in a 13'6" truck
- over bridges with a 6,000 lb load limit, in a semi that weighs 35,000 lbs empty and 80,000 lbs full
- into cozy residential neighborhoods with streets that would barely hold my rig BEFORE the cars parked on both sides
- and onto cross streets with signs bigger than the road saying "NO THRU TRUCKS."
Oh, yes, and they've tried to get me to come into a plant through a back gate that hasn't been opened in two or three years. Which brings us back to the present.
Fortunately, I had directions from the customer. If you've read my "Adventures in navigation" series you know how far I trust those, but they're usually more reliable than the magic box. When the two contradict each other I usually follow the directions, cross checking them against the GPS--and frantically looking for plan B in case they're BOTH wrong. This time I ended up coming through the front gate--after turning around twice trying to find it.
Not bad, all things considered.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Role model? Me?
It's foggy tonight.
I'm in a rest area overlooking the Interstate, watching the headlights go by, cloudy cones of white leading the way for them. I can see to the buildings--a hundred yards or so, maybe--but things are a little vague at that distance. I can actually see the trucks go by more clearly, at about the same distance. I think the wind from their passing is stirring the air over the road more. Or something.
I had to fuel the truck this afternoon. Had a hard time of it, for several reasons. But the joys of fuelling I will leave for a later date. There will always be another fuelling comedy. Today I had an odder experience.
Because of one interesting thing that happened at the gas pumps, I ended up having to pull away from the pumps and park. As you've probably figured out by now, parking one of these rigs is no small thing. Having to do it when you weren't expecting to can spoil a mood pretty effectively. But if it has to be done...I had found an open space and was getting ready to line myself up when another driver came up to my door.
"Are you backing in?" he said, looking at the parking place behind me.
"Yeah," I said, a little puzzled.
"I'm a trainer.* And I was wondering if you'd mind if my student watches you. I'd be talking him through it, giving him some tips. Seeing an experienced driver do it might help him figure a few things out."
A bit scary, that. Especially since I was about to back to my blind side.** I had room to ALMOST straighten out before I started backing, but still, it wouldn't be fun. And with a critical audience...
But that's not the kind of request you can refuse and still look like a tough, confident trucker. So I said "Sure," and put the truck in gear.
I didn't disgrace myself, and when I turned off the motor and climbed out he thanked me. Said I'd given him lots of opportunities to point things out to his trainee--and he was especially grateful for one moment, when I'd gotten real nervous about what was behind me. He'd been telling the kid how important it was to know if he was safe to move. "If you're not sure, get out and look!" he'd say. And now there they were, watching a real live professional driver--and when he got to a ticklish spot he got out and looked, by gum!
Real live professional driver. I like the sound of that.
-----
*Trainer--It occurs to me that I may not have explained that term before, even though I've used it several times. So here goes.
A lot of "professional driving schools" will help you get your Commercial Driver's License (CDL from here on)--but that's pretty much all they do. You'll get barely enough training to pass the test. And once you've gotten your CDL, you're a public menace. You're not safe on the road, you're not safe backing up to loading docks, you're not safe parking--I'd rather share the road with a kid who just "borrowed" Dad's car to celebrate getting HIS license.
(And I can say that. I'm describing myself a year ago.)
The company that hired you knows this. So before they turn you loose with a truck, you'll spend several weeks (at least) with an experienced driver who's willing to risk life and limb for a trainer's bonus. He finishes teaching you how to drive. He helps you figure out the paperwork. And he tries to help you develop some judgment. If he does his job right, you might live long enough to finish learning the job on your own. At least that's the idea.
A trainer who takes his job seriously is a blessing indeed. I had one. And it looks like I met another one today, working for another company. Which brings up back to our story...
**See the entry for 11/15/2008--"Progress, backwards"--to learn why this is scary...
I'm in a rest area overlooking the Interstate, watching the headlights go by, cloudy cones of white leading the way for them. I can see to the buildings--a hundred yards or so, maybe--but things are a little vague at that distance. I can actually see the trucks go by more clearly, at about the same distance. I think the wind from their passing is stirring the air over the road more. Or something.
I had to fuel the truck this afternoon. Had a hard time of it, for several reasons. But the joys of fuelling I will leave for a later date. There will always be another fuelling comedy. Today I had an odder experience.
Because of one interesting thing that happened at the gas pumps, I ended up having to pull away from the pumps and park. As you've probably figured out by now, parking one of these rigs is no small thing. Having to do it when you weren't expecting to can spoil a mood pretty effectively. But if it has to be done...I had found an open space and was getting ready to line myself up when another driver came up to my door.
"Are you backing in?" he said, looking at the parking place behind me.
"Yeah," I said, a little puzzled.
"I'm a trainer.* And I was wondering if you'd mind if my student watches you. I'd be talking him through it, giving him some tips. Seeing an experienced driver do it might help him figure a few things out."
A bit scary, that. Especially since I was about to back to my blind side.** I had room to ALMOST straighten out before I started backing, but still, it wouldn't be fun. And with a critical audience...
But that's not the kind of request you can refuse and still look like a tough, confident trucker. So I said "Sure," and put the truck in gear.
I didn't disgrace myself, and when I turned off the motor and climbed out he thanked me. Said I'd given him lots of opportunities to point things out to his trainee--and he was especially grateful for one moment, when I'd gotten real nervous about what was behind me. He'd been telling the kid how important it was to know if he was safe to move. "If you're not sure, get out and look!" he'd say. And now there they were, watching a real live professional driver--and when he got to a ticklish spot he got out and looked, by gum!
Real live professional driver. I like the sound of that.
-----
*Trainer--It occurs to me that I may not have explained that term before, even though I've used it several times. So here goes.
A lot of "professional driving schools" will help you get your Commercial Driver's License (CDL from here on)--but that's pretty much all they do. You'll get barely enough training to pass the test. And once you've gotten your CDL, you're a public menace. You're not safe on the road, you're not safe backing up to loading docks, you're not safe parking--I'd rather share the road with a kid who just "borrowed" Dad's car to celebrate getting HIS license.
(And I can say that. I'm describing myself a year ago.)
The company that hired you knows this. So before they turn you loose with a truck, you'll spend several weeks (at least) with an experienced driver who's willing to risk life and limb for a trainer's bonus. He finishes teaching you how to drive. He helps you figure out the paperwork. And he tries to help you develop some judgment. If he does his job right, you might live long enough to finish learning the job on your own. At least that's the idea.
A trainer who takes his job seriously is a blessing indeed. I had one. And it looks like I met another one today, working for another company. Which brings up back to our story...
**See the entry for 11/15/2008--"Progress, backwards"--to learn why this is scary...
Saturday, December 13, 2008
I was attacked by my chair today.
Modern semi-tractors have lots of creature comforts, compared to their ancestors. Among them are seats with adjustable height, tilt, back support, seat firmness, and number of partridges in a pear tree. Fully half these adjustments are pneumatic--the truck's already compressing air for the brakes, the suspension, and a few other things, so why not?
So I got out of the truck to connect the air and electrical lines to the trailer, went back to the cab, and started to climb back in--and suddenly I found myself being swatted by something thin and snakelike that whipped around in the floorboard and hissed, loudly. After a few seconds of dodging and a few more seconds of chasing it around, I got hold of it. It was a tiny hose, the one that supplied air to my seat adjusters. Now it was supplying air to the whole world, and adjusting its own position.
This is a more serious problem than you might think. I was merely annoyed myself--until I heard an alarm go off on the dash. It seems the seat adjusters are powered by the same air supply that operates the trailer brakes. And the people who designed truck air brakes borrowed an idea from the elevator designers: a secondary brake system that's powered by heavy springs, and built so it's always trying to apply the brakes. The air system provides power to keep the brakes from locking up--that way if the air system fails, the brakes come into play by themselves.
In other words, as long as this little hose was loose, I couldn't move the truck.
It only took me about five minutes to figure out where it went, and another two or three to get it there. But I had time to think about just how oddly the systems on these machines work together. I've run into things like this before.
The driver's seat can lock up the trailer brakes. So can the passenger's. The self-leveling suspension can interfere with the driveshaft. On another model truck, the sleeper's fan switch can override the cab's air-conditioner controls. And so on.
You really do have to keep track of everything...
p.s.
I've mentioned this before, but I don't know how far into the past my readers may have looked. So I'll mention it again--my Internet access is kind of spotty. So I will often save up a bunch of these entries and upload them all at once, when I have a connection.
In other words, if you notice a post that you should have read the last time you came in, you haven't lost your mind. It's just me, trying to keep my posts in order. The dates you see are when I first wrote an item, not when it got on the site.
We thank you for your patience...
So I got out of the truck to connect the air and electrical lines to the trailer, went back to the cab, and started to climb back in--and suddenly I found myself being swatted by something thin and snakelike that whipped around in the floorboard and hissed, loudly. After a few seconds of dodging and a few more seconds of chasing it around, I got hold of it. It was a tiny hose, the one that supplied air to my seat adjusters. Now it was supplying air to the whole world, and adjusting its own position.
This is a more serious problem than you might think. I was merely annoyed myself--until I heard an alarm go off on the dash. It seems the seat adjusters are powered by the same air supply that operates the trailer brakes. And the people who designed truck air brakes borrowed an idea from the elevator designers: a secondary brake system that's powered by heavy springs, and built so it's always trying to apply the brakes. The air system provides power to keep the brakes from locking up--that way if the air system fails, the brakes come into play by themselves.
In other words, as long as this little hose was loose, I couldn't move the truck.
It only took me about five minutes to figure out where it went, and another two or three to get it there. But I had time to think about just how oddly the systems on these machines work together. I've run into things like this before.
The driver's seat can lock up the trailer brakes. So can the passenger's. The self-leveling suspension can interfere with the driveshaft. On another model truck, the sleeper's fan switch can override the cab's air-conditioner controls. And so on.
You really do have to keep track of everything...
p.s.
I've mentioned this before, but I don't know how far into the past my readers may have looked. So I'll mention it again--my Internet access is kind of spotty. So I will often save up a bunch of these entries and upload them all at once, when I have a connection.
In other words, if you notice a post that you should have read the last time you came in, you haven't lost your mind. It's just me, trying to keep my posts in order. The dates you see are when I first wrote an item, not when it got on the site.
We thank you for your patience...
Monday, December 8, 2008
Early morning
Backed up to a dock in the early morning hours, watching the morning shift filter in from the parking lot in front of me. It's light enough for that now--as opposed to when I slipped in. I got here a good hour or so too early--I just now felt the truck vibrate, telling me they're opening the dock door and preparing to unload me. Better that than arriving on time, though--that would have involved sharing the city streets with a whole lot of other people who were also getting to work "on time." Tolerable in a car, but in one of these barges...
Before I had to do it, I never thought just how much the sheer SIZE of these trucks affects the way you drive. I've touched on that before, of course--the way you take up EVERYBODY's lane turning right at an intersection, the reason you don't dare be too polite to merging traffic, and so on. But the sheer terror that comes with a trip up Main Street in Smallville, with parked cars three inches from your trailer on the right and oncoming traffic the same distance away on your left--and are those power lines really high enough? Oh, and you'd better spot that cross street in time--you sure aren't going to back up if you miss it. Assuming you can turn at all--it's not like YOU wrote these directions...
So when I can I come in REAL early in the morning. It's a bit less terrifying when the streets aren't full.
(Now the truck is bouncing. If this were Star Trek I'd be pretending to fall out of my chair for dramatic emphasis. Good. The forklift is at work...)
Before I had to do it, I never thought just how much the sheer SIZE of these trucks affects the way you drive. I've touched on that before, of course--the way you take up EVERYBODY's lane turning right at an intersection, the reason you don't dare be too polite to merging traffic, and so on. But the sheer terror that comes with a trip up Main Street in Smallville, with parked cars three inches from your trailer on the right and oncoming traffic the same distance away on your left--and are those power lines really high enough? Oh, and you'd better spot that cross street in time--you sure aren't going to back up if you miss it. Assuming you can turn at all--it's not like YOU wrote these directions...
So when I can I come in REAL early in the morning. It's a bit less terrifying when the streets aren't full.
(Now the truck is bouncing. If this were Star Trek I'd be pretending to fall out of my chair for dramatic emphasis. Good. The forklift is at work...)
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Getting paid
It's warmer tonight, so far. Don't know if that will last, but I'm enjoying it while I can. It's still dark, though.
In the past four days I've driven about 1800 miles. I didn't get paid for them, though. As far as the company's concerned, I haven't done anything yet. Maybe next week.
No it's not corporate heartlessness--though it certainly feels like it sometimes. Y'see, OTR* and Regional** drivers are paid by the mile.*** And before they pay me they want proof that I actually picked up that load in Hooterville, and actually delivered it to Gotham City.
The normal way to do that is with the Bill of Lading. This is a piece of paper that lists all the things that were loaded onto the truck. I have to sign it when I pick up the load, to say I actually did pick it up.**** Then, when I get it to the consignee, he signs it to say I actually delivered it.
Now I have proof that I actually did my job. So I have to get it to my company, so they'll pay me. This usually involves putting it in an specially-addressed envelope and dropping it into a Trip-Pak(tm) box at the nearest truck stop. I'm not sure what happens next--I get the impression that Trip-Pak(tm) gathers up everybody's envelopes, scans the contents, and sends the scans to the correct employers. Then, I think, they send the hard copies by more leisurely means.
Once the company gets the scanned bills, they confirm that somebody actually signed for the load and credit the appropriate number of miles to my payroll account. At the "end" of the week they add all the miles up, multiply by my per-mile rate, and start deducting. What little is left over I get a day or two later.
Which leads us back to this week. I sat around for a day because of truck problems. On the second day I picked up a trailer and started toward a destination about a thousand miles distant, with one stop on the way. On the fourth day I dropped my trailer, picked up another one, and hurried to my next pickup--where I waited some time before learning they had nothing for me to pick up. I told my dispatcher this, and he found me somewhere else to go. On the fifth morning many boxes were wheeled into my trailer and I was rolling again. Another eight hundred miles. I got it there on the sixth day--today--and was sent here, where I will pick up another load in the morning.
As you can see, I've been busy.
But I didn't actually deliver a load until the fourth day of my work "week." And as it happens, my pay "week" ended the day before.
So as you can see, I haven't done anything.
It does even out, of course. I'll be paid for all those miles--next week, after they get the bills. So I'm not losing money. On the other hand, that money could have been handy this week. Bills are a lot more consistent than paychecks in this business. A bit of money in the bank can be a VERY GOOD THING when you're a trucker. Maybe I'll have that someday.
I wonder what they did before Trip-Pak(tm) and fax machines. Carrier pigeons? Trust their very livelihood to the U. S. Post Office? (No backups, remember--the copy machine wasn't commonplace either.) Hold on to everything until the next time they got to a terminal--and do without their money until then?
They was men in them days...
-----
*Over The Road, as opposed to Local (drivers who deliver in a single city, county, or whatever), Line-haul (drivers who pick up a load at Point A, deliver it to Point B, turn around and haul something back to Point A--and then do it all again tomorrow), etc.
**Like OTR, but in a smaller region
***And that may be a whole 'nother post right there--how many miles from Mayberry to Metropolis? The answer is not what you think...
****This can get complicated. For instance, what if I didn't actually stand there and count the cartons as they got loaded on the trailer ? (A lot of shippers won't let me into the warehouse to do that.) Or worse, the trailer was loaded before I got there? Well, I can note on the Bill that I'm taking their word for what's aboard. But a lot of shippers will scream to high heaven if I do. They won't let me check the load, but they expect me to take the blame for anything that's missing...
In the past four days I've driven about 1800 miles. I didn't get paid for them, though. As far as the company's concerned, I haven't done anything yet. Maybe next week.
No it's not corporate heartlessness--though it certainly feels like it sometimes. Y'see, OTR* and Regional** drivers are paid by the mile.*** And before they pay me they want proof that I actually picked up that load in Hooterville, and actually delivered it to Gotham City.
The normal way to do that is with the Bill of Lading. This is a piece of paper that lists all the things that were loaded onto the truck. I have to sign it when I pick up the load, to say I actually did pick it up.**** Then, when I get it to the consignee, he signs it to say I actually delivered it.
Now I have proof that I actually did my job. So I have to get it to my company, so they'll pay me. This usually involves putting it in an specially-addressed envelope and dropping it into a Trip-Pak(tm) box at the nearest truck stop. I'm not sure what happens next--I get the impression that Trip-Pak(tm) gathers up everybody's envelopes, scans the contents, and sends the scans to the correct employers. Then, I think, they send the hard copies by more leisurely means.
Once the company gets the scanned bills, they confirm that somebody actually signed for the load and credit the appropriate number of miles to my payroll account. At the "end" of the week they add all the miles up, multiply by my per-mile rate, and start deducting. What little is left over I get a day or two later.
Which leads us back to this week. I sat around for a day because of truck problems. On the second day I picked up a trailer and started toward a destination about a thousand miles distant, with one stop on the way. On the fourth day I dropped my trailer, picked up another one, and hurried to my next pickup--where I waited some time before learning they had nothing for me to pick up. I told my dispatcher this, and he found me somewhere else to go. On the fifth morning many boxes were wheeled into my trailer and I was rolling again. Another eight hundred miles. I got it there on the sixth day--today--and was sent here, where I will pick up another load in the morning.
As you can see, I've been busy.
But I didn't actually deliver a load until the fourth day of my work "week." And as it happens, my pay "week" ended the day before.
So as you can see, I haven't done anything.
It does even out, of course. I'll be paid for all those miles--next week, after they get the bills. So I'm not losing money. On the other hand, that money could have been handy this week. Bills are a lot more consistent than paychecks in this business. A bit of money in the bank can be a VERY GOOD THING when you're a trucker. Maybe I'll have that someday.
I wonder what they did before Trip-Pak(tm) and fax machines. Carrier pigeons? Trust their very livelihood to the U. S. Post Office? (No backups, remember--the copy machine wasn't commonplace either.) Hold on to everything until the next time they got to a terminal--and do without their money until then?
They was men in them days...
-----
*Over The Road, as opposed to Local (drivers who deliver in a single city, county, or whatever), Line-haul (drivers who pick up a load at Point A, deliver it to Point B, turn around and haul something back to Point A--and then do it all again tomorrow), etc.
**Like OTR, but in a smaller region
***And that may be a whole 'nother post right there--how many miles from Mayberry to Metropolis? The answer is not what you think...
****This can get complicated. For instance, what if I didn't actually stand there and count the cartons as they got loaded on the trailer ? (A lot of shippers won't let me into the warehouse to do that.) Or worse, the trailer was loaded before I got there? Well, I can note on the Bill that I'm taking their word for what's aboard. But a lot of shippers will scream to high heaven if I do. They won't let me check the load, but they expect me to take the blame for anything that's missing...
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Governors and rolling roadblocks
Dark comes early this time of year.
I'm sitting in the sleeper cab with the curtains drawn, hoping they'll provide a little insulation. It's gonna be cool out there tonight. Besides, there's not much to see--the light was pretty much gone when I pulled in. Before six.
While I'm waiting for the sleeper to cool down too much for sleep, I suppose I'll talk about something that happened several times today. It usually does. And I figure a certain number of people get ticked off every time.
I'll bet you do, too. You're driving down the road, looking forward to the steak at that restaurant two exits ahead, and suddenly you find yourself behind a moving wall. Great big trucks in both lanes, sedately cruising along at just under the speed limit. Or worse, one almost passing the other, then slowing down while the other one almost passes him back. Like a couple of six-year-olds playing race cars. You can almost hear them yelling "vroom, vroom!" at each other.
Well, that's not exactly what's happening.
Just in case you don't know it, a lot of semi-tractors--especially the ones that belong to a big company--are governed. Put that pedal to the medal as hard as you want--it won't go over 65.* This is not necessarily a bad thing, most of the time. Drivers do have a tendency to use all the speed you give them, whether they need it or not. The problem comes when you find yourself closing steadily on a truck ahead of you.
You pull out to pass--and realize he's going exactly one mph slower than you. Or worse--one half of one mph.** Or worse still, it varies. On anything but perfectly flat ground, that's quite possible. If he's got any kind of load, his engine isn't big enough to pull him uphill at the speed limit. That's obvious to everyone when he's going up a mountainside at thirty, engine roaring and emergency flashers flashing. But even a slight slope can slow him down by one or two mph. And an equally slight downslope can speed him up past his governed speed, just a little.
The same is true for you, of course. But right now, you're the one catching up. So you must have a little more power, or a little less load. So you pull out to go around him.
You were closing at two or three mph--at least for the last hundred feet or so. But maybe some of that was drafting. Looks like you're barely closing now that you're in the left lane. Or maybe you're not closing at all. In another minute you hit another slight upslope and you start pulling past him--and then you crest the hill and his extra weight pulls him along faster than you. Until you hit the next upslope, that is.
And his truck is eighty feet long. And so is yours. And there's the little matter of safe following distance.*** So you're going to have to cover at least a hundred yards (relative to the other guy) at less than half walking speed before you can pull back over. And in your mirror you see the long string of cars and trucks, full of people speculating on your ancestry and personal hygeine.
And all because of that stupid governor.
Mind you, I don't really get too upset about the thing. But it would be nice if they'd put in an override. In this day of computer control, it wouldn't be hard--and you could put in limits to keep drivers from abusing it. If I had a button that would give me an extra 5 mph for one minute, three or four times a day, it would actually make things safer out here.
Just a thought.
-----
*Or 63, or 62--some of the companies have backed the governors down a mile-an-hour or two to save fuel in these sad times.
**Maybe his governor is set the same way yours is. But is his speedometer calibrated exactly like yours?
**Yeah, I know we all ignore it way too much of the time (except for me, of course). But it does improve your chances of staying alive out there.
I'm sitting in the sleeper cab with the curtains drawn, hoping they'll provide a little insulation. It's gonna be cool out there tonight. Besides, there's not much to see--the light was pretty much gone when I pulled in. Before six.
While I'm waiting for the sleeper to cool down too much for sleep, I suppose I'll talk about something that happened several times today. It usually does. And I figure a certain number of people get ticked off every time.
I'll bet you do, too. You're driving down the road, looking forward to the steak at that restaurant two exits ahead, and suddenly you find yourself behind a moving wall. Great big trucks in both lanes, sedately cruising along at just under the speed limit. Or worse, one almost passing the other, then slowing down while the other one almost passes him back. Like a couple of six-year-olds playing race cars. You can almost hear them yelling "vroom, vroom!" at each other.
Well, that's not exactly what's happening.
Just in case you don't know it, a lot of semi-tractors--especially the ones that belong to a big company--are governed. Put that pedal to the medal as hard as you want--it won't go over 65.* This is not necessarily a bad thing, most of the time. Drivers do have a tendency to use all the speed you give them, whether they need it or not. The problem comes when you find yourself closing steadily on a truck ahead of you.
You pull out to pass--and realize he's going exactly one mph slower than you. Or worse--one half of one mph.** Or worse still, it varies. On anything but perfectly flat ground, that's quite possible. If he's got any kind of load, his engine isn't big enough to pull him uphill at the speed limit. That's obvious to everyone when he's going up a mountainside at thirty, engine roaring and emergency flashers flashing. But even a slight slope can slow him down by one or two mph. And an equally slight downslope can speed him up past his governed speed, just a little.
The same is true for you, of course. But right now, you're the one catching up. So you must have a little more power, or a little less load. So you pull out to go around him.
You were closing at two or three mph--at least for the last hundred feet or so. But maybe some of that was drafting. Looks like you're barely closing now that you're in the left lane. Or maybe you're not closing at all. In another minute you hit another slight upslope and you start pulling past him--and then you crest the hill and his extra weight pulls him along faster than you. Until you hit the next upslope, that is.
And his truck is eighty feet long. And so is yours. And there's the little matter of safe following distance.*** So you're going to have to cover at least a hundred yards (relative to the other guy) at less than half walking speed before you can pull back over. And in your mirror you see the long string of cars and trucks, full of people speculating on your ancestry and personal hygeine.
And all because of that stupid governor.
Mind you, I don't really get too upset about the thing. But it would be nice if they'd put in an override. In this day of computer control, it wouldn't be hard--and you could put in limits to keep drivers from abusing it. If I had a button that would give me an extra 5 mph for one minute, three or four times a day, it would actually make things safer out here.
Just a thought.
-----
*Or 63, or 62--some of the companies have backed the governors down a mile-an-hour or two to save fuel in these sad times.
**Maybe his governor is set the same way yours is. But is his speedometer calibrated exactly like yours?
**Yeah, I know we all ignore it way too much of the time (except for me, of course). But it does improve your chances of staying alive out there.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
When is an eighteen-wheeler not an eighteen-wheeler?
When it's a fourteen-wheeler. Or a ten-wheeler.
Technology marches on, you see. You know those wide, low-profile tires that have started showing up on customized cars? Something similar is available for big trucks now. One tire as wide as the dual-wheel assembly on a "normal" tractor or trailer. Apparently they decrease rolling resistance and improve gas mileage.
Our newest trailers have them. So do our very newest trucks. Looks like the day of dual wheels is almost past.
And when will they change all those road signs? "Trucks six wheels and over..." That could be pretty darn big.
Oh, well. The language has never really kept up. I mean, really. How many Teamsters can handle a coach and four these days?
Technology marches on, you see. You know those wide, low-profile tires that have started showing up on customized cars? Something similar is available for big trucks now. One tire as wide as the dual-wheel assembly on a "normal" tractor or trailer. Apparently they decrease rolling resistance and improve gas mileage.
Our newest trailers have them. So do our very newest trucks. Looks like the day of dual wheels is almost past.
And when will they change all those road signs? "Trucks six wheels and over..." That could be pretty darn big.
Oh, well. The language has never really kept up. I mean, really. How many Teamsters can handle a coach and four these days?
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