A Long Way From Home: A Trucker's Life Through A Woman's Eye Volume 2

By C L Miller

It started out so innocently. I was working for a Las Vegas construction company in the accounting department. My husband, Harry, was driving one of the company's delivery trucks that took supplies to the job sites around the city. One weekend he had an out-of-town run and I got permission to go along for the ride. I was hooked before we'd traveled twenty miles.
Truck driving school lasted about four weeks. There were twenty students in the class and only two women, a ratio that reflects the entire industry. I was learning a new skill at age fifty-four, so very different from the quiet and predictable desk jobs I had done in the past.
Being a woman in a man's world can be challenging, is rarely boring, and is surprisingly comfortable. I have been treated with respect by my fellow Drivers and accepted without hesitation or condescension. There are no barriers.
If, a half-dozen years ago, someone had told me I'd be doing this job today, I would have laughed them off. Ten years ago, I would have assumed them to be certifiably insane.
Yet, here I am.

• Language: English
• Publisher: C L Miller
• Release date: Jun 6, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311113719

C L Miller

C L Miller is a sixty-two year old woman truck driver who teams with her husband. They drive over-the-road in the United States and Canada. Prior to getting her CDL, she worked in a library and in accounting.She calls this new adventure her ‘mid-life crisis career” and has recorded her journeys in the continuing series “A Long Way From Home: A Trucker’s Life Through A Woman’s Eye”. She occasionally detours into fiction, as in “Pivotals” and “First Fruits”.She welcomes comments and questions, and can be contacted at [e-mail].

Book preview

A LONG WAY FROM HOME:

A Trucker’s Life Through A Woman’s Eye

Volume 2

By C L Miller

Dedicated to my fellow Drivers.

Be safe.

For my Mother.

Our time together was tragically short,

but in those few years you instilled in me a love of reading

that has never diminished.

Writing is a natural extension of that love.

Thank you.

C L Miller is a fifty-two year old woman truck driver who teams with her husband. They drive over-the-road in the United States and Canada. Prior to getting her commercial driver’s license, she worked in a library and in accounting. She calls this new adventure her mid-life crisis job and has recorded her journeys in the continuing series A Long Way From Home: A Trucker's Life Through A Woman's Eye.

She occasionally detours into fiction, as in Pivotals and First Fruits.

She welcomes comments and questions and can be contacted at

[e-mail]

Copyright 2015 

by C L Miller 

Smashwords Edition.

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Celebrate!

Absurdvations

An Overnight Sensation

Prose & Poetry

The Week After

High Steaks Game

Poetic Licensing

Land of Enchantment

Thumper's Dad

Cleanliness is next to impossible

What goes around may bite you in the tush

Free range flakes

Tennessee drivers and Georgia plums

Across the Midwest

It's all about ME!

Bunny Hopping

Y'all come back soon

Pins & Needles

Slings and Errors

Sweet Carolina

Speed bumps

Talladega Days

In a word

Westward Ha!

Sunny Side Up

Birds I view

Horseshoes and hand grenades

Celebrate!

November 11, 2010

Last week marked our first anniversary with Joel and TopDrawer. The bruises from pinching ourselves have finally healed. We are having the working time of our lives.

After only a few weeks of our second go-around with BottomFeeder it was becoming clear that nothing had changed and we were already discussing our options. We were literally in the middle of a conversation when my cell phone rang. It was the recruiter from TopDrawer with whom we had been in occasional contact the previous eighteen months, unable to coordinate our respective needs and schedules. Until that day. I have an owner looking for a Team. Are you interested? Oh yes, we are. His name is Joel, give him a call. We found out he is a Colorado businessman looking to expand his interests; he had a particular truck in mind; he'd get back to us. Yeah, right, we said to ourselves, like it's gonna be that easy. As it turned out, it was. By the end of our third phone call, the truck was purchased and we were hired. Over the phone, sight unseen, step of faith. We are still amazed at our incredible good fortune.

We happened to be in Colorado the day after Joel took delivery of the truck, so we met him and saw our new home for the first time. Two weeks later we were at TopDrawer Orientation -- with Joel -- and it was becoming very clear we had made a wise decision on all counts. Nothing in the last twelve months has altered our perception.

Last week Joel called and wished us a Happy Anniversary! Where's our cake? we asked. The next time you are in Colorado, we'll do a cake. And then we picked up a sweet run to Boulder. Here we come! Start baking.

One of the challenges of driving in the Northeast is that Exit Numbers do not match Mile Markers in several states, notably New York and Massachusetts. Exits are numbered sequentially so Exit 1 might be at any Mile Marker from 1 up. An unaware Driver can find this awkward and it can lead to unfortunate conclusions as to the distance to your next stop, especially in the larger-area states.

Our trip across the I-90 through upstate New York was a new route for me. The weather was cold and clear at the beginning but turned to snow flurries in Pennsylvania, then to sleet in Ohio, then back to clear as we neared the Indiana state border. Other than a few cities it was mostly farm land. Fall had fallen off the trees and winter was impatiently standing in the wings, waiting for its turn in the parade. Lake Erie was gray and choppy in Cleveland, matching the sky. It gave the water a menacing look, as if made of agitated fingers searching for victims.

In my pondering time, I gave some thought to the phrase 'cautiously optimistic'. Lately I have been at the mercy of another's slow decision-making which has caused me to pendulum from euphoric to frustrated. I know that I have a half a glass of water, I'm just not sure if it's on the way up or down. Does that make me bravely pessimistic?

If I could communicate with the motorists with whom I share the road, I would point out that when Speed meets Size, the big guy usually wins. If you want to cut in front of me, you'd better be sure I have space to stop.

Traveling in other parts of the country gives us a chance to see regional shopping centers with unfamiliar -- to us -- stores. My favorite are those obviously local hardware and lawn-n-garden. I'm not talking the Big Boys like Home Depot or Lowes; I mean those family-run shops. I imagine the owners -- fifth generation -- selling one nail or helping the townsfolk put together a kit of enough odds and ends to build a space shuttle from scratch.

Cowabunga! Thanks to Harry persevering, shoulder to the wheel (metaphorically speaking), we arrived early (as in single-digit still-dark almost-yesterday) Sunday morning at the Iowa 80 Truck Stop! We slept in the parking lot (in the truck), showered, ate in the restaurant. We lingered. Another Notable First.

Trukker Skool

Alcohol consumption regulations are much more stringent -- and carry much stiffer penalties -- for Drivers. For example, in our home state of Nevada, legally intoxicated begins when a civilian blows a .06 on the breathalyzer; for a truck driver, the number is .02. Law enforcement can and will administer the test as soon as they see the Class A, regardless of the reason for the traffic stop. We never were big drinkers, but being able to only consume one glass of wine every four hours took the fun out of it. We removed alcohol from our lives, because our CDL is our drivers' license, and operating a Moped under the influence counts just the same as a semi, and shows up on our record. Most trucking companies frown on DUI charges, without waiting for a conviction; some fire Drivers. It simply isn't worth it on all counts.

All that to say that intoxicated persons are quite a rare occurrence in a truck stop. They are also extremely annoying at 1:30am after a long day in the saddle.

We enjoyed a wonderful breakfast in the Iowa 80 Restaurant. But it was marred by an encounter of the insensitive type. The table to my right was occupied by an older (than me) couple and a second man that joined them. Beyond their table was a group of people who, based their apparel, were probably Amish. There were two tables of these folks, obviously traveling together, without children, and quite likely Locals sharing a Sunday morning meal. The odd-man from the nearby table got up to pay his bill and stopped near the Amish diners to chat. I could only hear him -- possibly because the Amish were too astonished or too polite to reply. In the voice of a second-grade teacher on a class field trip, he patiently and mono-syllably supplied the un-solicited information that You are in the World's Lar-gest Truck Stop. It has a lot of in-ter-es-ting things used by truck drivers. Many Drivers stop here to buy things for their trucks. My first impulse was to point out to Mr Wizard that his students are not from Mars; if they are Locals, they are also probably regular patrons; that the huge collection of truck-related paraphernalia and the three full-sized trucks in the building might have offered a clue, even in the highly unlikely case that no one in the group can read. His previous table-mates were clearly ashamed of his behavior. What a ninny!

I don't know my daughter's friends any more. She is twenty-six and lives in another state, so that's not a big surprise, but it is a far cry from the time when I knew everything about her friends from their allergies to the veterinarian the family used for their pets. How they do grow up.

The Fall Back time change caught us completely unaware! We left the Iowa 80 at what we thought was 11:00am (Eastern Time). At 2:30pm we noticed that our cell phones said it was only 1:30pm. Since we were driving in Central Time, we assumed the cell phone system had flipped us to local time; but no, it still showed set in Eastern Time. Now we are completely flummoxed. Are we in an alternate reality? Did we skip into Mountain Time, which is still off an hour? Then the conversation we overheard Saturday afternoon about the hassle of the time change plus the tall restaurant server resetting the clocks when we arrived at the Iowa 80 early that morning, caused us to say Ah-Hahhhh. And we just gained an extra hour of travel time! And we have absolutely no idea how much sleep we got because we use the alarm on our cell phones!

In Iowa I saw a billboard advertising crop insurance. In our regular city lives, we can reduce our rates on auto and home policies by protecting ourselves from potential damages: smoke detectors, intruder alarms, seat belts, driver training, etc. But how does a farmer or rancher reduce the possibility of bad weather, animal injury or illness, crop failure? So I'm sure it's a difficult choice every year to pay the premiums or take the chances.

I am now convinced that some birds fly just because they can. It's not about finding food or escaping being a meal; it's just because it feels cool to soar.

Our run to Denver brought us back to the scene of my previous encounter with the coin slide on the dryer. I did laundry, very carefully.

Monday evening Joel and Mary picked us up at the truck stop and treated us to a delicious dinner -- and dessert! -- accompanied by a lot of wonderful conversation. Thank you both. When we returned to the truck stop we signed our new six-month contract and Joel said How about I just date the next one 'Forever'? Works (no pun intended) for us!

Sadly, on Tuesday morning, I was forced to euthanize our long term guest, SuperFly. There just comes a time when it has got to stop (ahem) uh, that is to to say, it becomes in the best interest of all concerned to bid farewell. Rest in peace (finally!)

It started snowing Tuesday afternoon as we relaxed at a Denver T/A. We snuggled down in the truck and watched the big white fluffy flakes dance across the parking lot.

Technology at its finest. Wednesday morning showers: clean rooms, hot water; room-entry pin-code pads inoperable due to computer glitch; long line, not amusing. Just give out good ol' fashioned keys.

We got out of Denver just ahead of a storm expected to dump six inches of snow, and headed for Kansas City. It was a day of clear skies and warm sunshine.

Near Limon, Colorado, is a tourist area featuring a tower from which -- according to the sign -- visitors can See Six States. So, boys and girls, dig out your atlas and figure out the other five. And no, we didn't stop, so I don't have an answer.

I love driving through farm country. This time of year the animals are a great weather predictors and most of the ones we have seen are not sporting a winter rug. If they are being accurate, we're in for a milder winter.

Absurdvations

November 18, 2010

Traveling in the South and Midwest one could easily assume a Waffle House was built at every off-ramp. I believe the off-ramps were designed so freeway motorists could get to the Waffle Houses.

On Veteran's Day we were in Oak Grove, Missouri. We were waiting at a repair shop and the lounge TV was tuned to a game show that requires contestants to be ridiculously exuberant in order to come on down. This episode consisted entirely of service persons; they even had a military band playing the theme song. One soldier won a truck, another walked away with a diamond-studded watch, and the grand prize was a Las Vegas vacation. I'm not sure if I should feel offended by the whole thing, but I am. In the first place, the show was probably taped months ago; where are those soldiers now? The more shameful part was the public humiliation the losing contestants had to go through. How dare the game show do that to our nation's heroes! This is how we honor our troops? If they wanted to truly honor our service people, give every one of them a truck, a diamond watch, and fly the entire group to Las Vegas, just because. That would be worth watching. Oh, and the kicker: Each member of the audience will receive a complimentary one-hour phone card courtesy of XYZ Phone. Yippee. The price was wrong.

We arrived at the wonderful Oak Grove 70 on Wednesday evening. We spent Thursday getting some maintenance done on the truck and got an upgraded QUALCOMM installed. Talk about user-friendly! It performs its typical functions but also has a few games -- as in solitaire and mini-pinball -- on it. But fear not, it is programmed so that only the non-Driver can use it when the truck is in motion.

We spent a very convivial hour or so at the counter in the Petro cafe, chatting with our fellow Drivers. Harry had a mini-pot of coffee and I had an equal serving of hot chocolate. We all came to the highly professional conclusion that: (1) we avoid Flying J; (2) Waffle House has a controlling interest in the US Department of Transportation; (3) Waffle House has the very best hash browns; (4) restaurant servers wait until you have a mouth full of food to ask you a question; (5) there is a steep grade on I-40 near Asheville, North Carolina, that is scarier than Emigrant Pass; (5) it is raining, which is better than snowing; (6) a good buffet is music to our hearts [are you detecting a theme?] ; (7) restaurant servers wait until you have a mouth full of food to ask you a question; (8) a good shower is wonderful, a tub is fantastic, a spa is heavenly; (9) the disadvantage to a large truck stop is the distance you have to walk to the indoor facilities; (10) we wouldn't work at anything else [no one actually said that because no one needed to].

We got a load opportunity from The Mansion Theater in Branson, Missouri, to an airport. We pick up our cargo at midnight. The one and only Johnny Mathis is finishing a gig there on the same day. We are doing the math.

We arrived in Branson in late afternoon and found The Mansion Theater. It looks like its name with tall white columns framing the glass door entrance. In the lobby is a magnificent two-story double-sided curved grand staircase leading to balcony seating. We parked our truck, bought tickets to the Johnny Mathis concert, and walked to a nearby cafe for dinner. Our server told us the entire crew would be in for a pre-performance meal, but by 6:15 with an 8:00pm concert, we figured plans had changed. Alas! for thinking in Eastern Time and operating in Central Time, again.

There is nothing like a Johnny Mathis concert in Branson, Missouri, to make one feel young. Trust me. But at age seventy-five he can still belt out a song, and while his vocal range has narrowed, his voice is still strong. Ovation!

On the flip side two restaurant servers told us that their grandfather also likes Johnny Mathis, making sure we are aware of the demographic we represent. Thank you.

The other day I heard a Driver order a side of gravy with his chicken taco. I obviously called that one in the air.

In case you have been wondering, the CB Radio is alive and well. While most long-range communication is via cell phone, the CB is good for the What's happening up the road? inquiries. We have one that we use for getting or giving information about traffic jams, weather conditions, or roadside incidents. When we drove with BottomFeeder it was almost always on, and it led to several interesting encounters.

(1) Late one night I was driving in a bad snowstorm on I-90 in Montana. Another truck came up behind me and started yelling at me to get out of his lane -- although how he knew I was in it was beyond me as I wasn't even sure if I was still on the freeway. He called me by the company name on my trailer but I didn't respond. I was about fed up with driving in near white-out conditions anyway, so I took the next off-ramp. It turned out to lead to a delightful little truck stop called Crossroads, so I was soon grateful for the nasty suggestion. As I parked, another Driver who had heard the Griper, sympathized with me, unaware that I was a woman. When I thanked him, he immediately came back with Little Lady, he was mean to you! Do you need a hug? I keyed the mic