Perfectly safe

28 AUGUST 2013, 14:37
Got up, dropped a trailer full of plastic things at a chain-store warehouse, and headed to my next shipper. Sixty-odd miles through the scenic Ozarks to a large, dusty facility, surrounded by piles of--dirt? tailings? ore?

No matter. I was going to a loading dock. There I was greeted by a nice lady in work clothes who cheerfully told me where to go (politely). As I backed in, I saw stacks of huge metal ingots. What I was carrying, I supposed.

I supposed right. It took them about fifteen minutes to load the trailer. Another hour or two for me to secure the load.* A few minutes to get out the gate and park. It would take them a few minutes to finish my paperwork, so I walked down to the Drivers Lounge and washed my hands.

Thoroughly.

Then I did it again.

For some reason I didn't want to rub my eyes until I'd done that. Maybe something to do with all that dust. Or the trucks spraying water on the road to reduce the dust in the air. Or the building on the way out that hosed the truck down to get the dust off it.

Or maybe it was the nice lady and the friendly forklift driver cheerfully talking to me in the warehouse.

While wearing gas masks.

Did I mention that they loaded my truck with ingots of lead?

I'm taking a shower tonight..

*(Trivium: If you've ever been inside a semi-trailer, you may have noticed that the floor is made of wood. Real old-school.

(Well, there's a reason for that. Loads like this one can shift. And the straps and bars we normally use wouldn't hold this kind of weight. So what do you use to keep all that weight in place?

(Wood. Pressed (or wedged) tight against the mercchandise, and nailed down. To the wood floor.

(When they hired me for this job, they didn't mention carpentry…)

Spa-a-a-h

20 AUGUST 2013, 12:35
Okawville, Illinois is east of St. Louis, off I-64, exit 41. Small town, with a Pilot truck stop right off the exit and the town about a half-mile down the road. And in the town is The Original Springs Hotel.

The spring in question runs under the hotel. It's not a hot spring,* but lots of minerals. So they set up a spa in 1867, and it's still here.

I had to do a restart--34 hours doing nothing trucking-related. So I said what the heck. A moderate walk, too much money,** a long soak in a mineral-laden hot tub, and half an hour on a massage table--and the time wasn't wasted. I had an Experience.

The walls of the spa proper were lined with tin panels that dated back to the grand opening, they said--decorative in a Victorian fashion and still valiantly shielding the walls from moisture.

The tubs were modern whirlpool types, but that was no great disillusionment. This isn't a hot spring, so they always heated the water before piping it into the tubs anyway. And it was indeed relaxing. They offered to let me soak longer than the time I'd paid for, but I didn't --because it was a proper Victorian-era spa. No air conditioning. Sitting in a hot tub is ok.  Sitting in a Turkish bath is ok. Both  at once?

The masseuse*** was not quite as period--a proper massage therapist, with just the proper streak of New Age. She went beyond what I paid for (hot stones, at least--extra charge, the flyer said) because "the universe told her to." I won't argue.

Suddenly the whole spa thing makes much more sense to me. Another reason to get rich. And maybe to look forward to getting stuck here again.
-----
*(geothermal but merely non-cold--about 60°, they said)

**(not really--I'm just cheap)

***(I use the old term in honor of the age of the place--built when "masseur" and "masseuse" had not become snicker-words)

Scary docks: the Philadelphia project

14 AUGUST 2013, 13:22
So you slip off the Interstate, cruise down a four-lane avenue, and make a right turn through two cars.* About a block up you find the warehouse and its dock doors.

Enclosed.

On the right.

We've discussed backing to to the right before, but this is slightly different. You're looking at doing it on an active street. With two lanes. Even with the bike lanes and the shoulders your trailer is longer than the street is wide.

The trailer. Not "the tractor and the trailer."

So you're going to back to your blind side, across all lanes of traffic, up on the sidewalk, backing your tractor blithely through the chain-link fence over there--and the two concrete-filled steel posts guarding it. Oh, and the fire hydrant.

You're not?

Good for you.

So instead, you will U-turn into the store parking lot you can see over your left shoulder. It's just wide enough.

Then you'll back across the street again, blocking a whole new set of angry drivers. If you're careful, you won't run over any of the customers' cars as you line up with the dock.

Actually, yes. That IS what you'll do. The are no other options you can see.

Oh, look! There was one other driver backed in when you got here. And he's out there spotting for you!

This is a GOOD thing. Not only is he keeping the happy commuters (or whatever) from trying to squeeze past (they WILL try)--he's giving you some directions. Backing from bright sunlight into a dim garage barely wide enough (between concrete columns) to fit you is no fun even when you have room to maneuver.

Remember to thank him when you're in. Profusely.

And there you are. Your trailer is firmly pressed to the dock. Your truck is blocking the bike lane, but only a foot or so is sticking out into the street.** All is well.

At least until you have to pull out.

*(Actually the light turned while you were desperately looking for an angle; and after three or four cars went past you, one took pity and hung back far enough. You DID acknowledge his kindness, right?)

**(This warehouse obviously predates 53' trailers...)