Saw the magazine thread and read that, amongst other things, the Long Distance Diary is missed, I used to love reading them, it’s part of the reason why I now write them!
Some of you may have read this on my blog, but for those that haven’t here it is 
.
My day starts in darkness, if you’ve read any of my other stuff, you’ll be thinking that I’m talking about the evening, but no, this darkness is the one that heralds the start of a new day and being that it is summer, that means that it is real early, even the birds are still asleep.
As always I need coffee, luckily in the town where I live there is a coffee shop, the owner of which, thankfully, must be an insomniac as he is open at this ridiculously early hour. I get the first two Lattes of the trip, one to drink now and one in my ‘to go’ cup and head off to the yard to reunite with 361.
The issues I had with overheating on the previous trip had been taken care of by Kenny and his gang in our shop, the radiator was flushed and the water pump replaced, the original water pump was still working fine, but company policy is to do things properly, so it was replaced. We operate along the same principles as the Airlines, the shop keep a record of component failures and wear rates and use this to replace parts before they fail, it helps to keep the show on the road. From a driver’s perspective this is a good philosophy as it minimizes the risk of ending up on the shoulder with a breakdown.
I also have some new shiny bits too, they’re under the hood so not on show, but when I flip the hood the first thing I see are the new braided hoses and shiny is shiny so I’m happy. There are new Shock Absorbers all round too, which is nice, I need a soft ride as I get older. While I’m under the hood I do my daily checks of fluids and all the other stuff that makes up a pre trip inspection, next step is to make up my bed and put everything in its place inside the cab and then head down to the border.
I’m joined by two fellow Paul Brandt drivers, George and my Uncle Dave, George is heading for Milwaukee, Dave is going to sunny SoCal, I’ll stick with George for the whole day, but Dave will leave us at Fargo as he heads west. We set off in our mini convoy and take Highway 75 from Morris to Emerson and the border with The United States.
As usual, the border crossing is a painless process, I get sent through the Mobile Scanner, it’s a giant X-Ray Machine that looks at the complete truck, trailer and cargo. I soon get the all clear and make my way down to the Gastrak Truckstop at Pembina, the North Dakotan border town. My colleagues are all good, but my load is a bit heavy on the trailer axles, with the assistance of both Dave and George I slide my trailer axles and reweigh, this time it’s even heavier at the back! Three professional drivers with over 70yrs of experience between us and we had moved the trailer axles the wrong way, this had overloaded them even more! My excuse was that it was still way too early for me, the other two I cannot speak for, but I have my suspicions……
Legal at last, we hit the road south, as usual I-29, direction Fargo. We’re going to stop at Fargo for a coffee and then the crowd of three will become two’s company. The run down I-29 is trouble free and we soon back off to the Double Nickel to avoid the attention of the North Dakota State Patrol, they’re always hiding somewhere within the Fargo City Limits, both on the north-south I-29 and east-west I-94, it takes eight minutes from one side to the other at the limit, so unless it’s a medical emergency, speeding will make no difference to your day, except that you’ll be on the shoulder handing over your license and registration to the State Trooper and a couple of hundred bucks a week later when the inevitable ticket is due for payment.
We grab a Latte from my old friend Ronnie McD, Dave heads off west, George and I head east on I-94, poor Dave has over 390miles of North Dakota left to do, we have only six before we enter Minnesota, we’re heading for St Cloud for a late lunch. I tried out a Bar and Grill which is located in a strip mall adjacent to the Pilot Truckstop at exit 171, it’s called RJ’s and if you’re in the area it’s well worth a try, the food is amazing.
First we have to negotiate the DOT weigh station a few miles inside Minnesota, we get called in, everyone does when it’s open, they don’t participate in the PrePass scheme. The bypass lane is the closest we come to meeting the Scale master, they have a ‘weigh in motion’ sensor in the approach lane, it senses that all the hard work the Three Stooges had done back in Pembina had put me under the legal limits and so we sailed on by.
Two and a half hours later, we pulled into the Pilot and parked our wagons, the culinary delights of RJ’s just a short walk away. We both decided on the Chicken Pot Pie, I could fill the rest of the blog with superlatives describing the mouth watering goodness that passed my lips, it was made even better by George picking up the tab, ker’ ching….
Early evening and The Twin Cities is not a good mix, but we managed to get through before the lunatics left the asylum for the day, even the construction, of which there’s plenty, did little to hold us up and soon we’re crossing the St Croix River and into the Badger State, Wisconsin. It’s a six and a half hour drive from our yard if all goes well and it had all gone well, we had four and a half hours left to run on our log books and would be making full use of every available minute, I didn’t need to, but Georgie Boy had a delivery in Milwaukee, so he needed to get as close as possible to avoid another early start.
Now, all this trucking day in and day out can take its toll, both on truck and driver, but the way we operate means we have the freedom to do it the way it suits us best, to a point. A lot of companies tell the drivers what time to start and that’s all the information they get, sometimes there’s no contact at all, save for a message on the satellite Communications system installed in the truck, every aspect of their trip is managed by somebody behind a desk, a desk that can be thousands of miles away from the truck, one that can’t see weather and traffic conditions, or even that the driver is hungry and needs to stop for a snack.
At Paul Brandt Trucking, we too have a Satellite, it’s useful for Dispatch to send reference numbers and appointment confirmations, but we also speak to Dispatch, we know what time we have to be at our delivery, we know how long it takes to get there, 99% of the time we know where we’ll be heading for our next load, so it makes it easier to plan your trip, some guys like to get up early and finish early, some, like George and I, prefer to start a little later, but even we have to start early sometimes, especially on the East Coast where we lose an hour as we run our logs on Central Time. Having all the information at our disposal the day before we leave to go to work makes our life as drivers much easier, in turn, it also makes the Dispatcher’s job a little easier, having a personal relationship with the drivers means they get to know our strengths and weaknesses, they then allocate the work accordingly, obviously as one of the more prestigious companies, they expect that their drivers know how to do the job without constant instructions, from my point of view. I love this system, as much as I enjoy my job as a trucker, there are parts of it that I don’t like, my relationship with my Dispatcher means that I’m seldom disappointed with my instructions. Not that I’m a Prima Donna, I take the rough with the smooth, but let’s be honest, smooth is much better.
Speaking of smooth, it seems that it’s a word missing from the vocabulary of Wisconsin Road Builders, the I-94 is giving my new shocks a work out this evening, this combined with the constant watching for Deer running in to the roadway can make this part of the trip hard work, but a quick stop for a Latte keeps the senses alert. We complete the remaining miles chatting on the CB radio and soon pull in and park for the night.
Ten hours later my slumbers are disturbed by the ringing of my alarm, George and I have a synchronized pre trip thing going on, we also take part in a long established morning ritual together, ablutions followed by a Latte, George heads off to his delivery, I make my way to a truckwash, as you know, I like to keep 361 looking at its best, I’m also going to wait for George to make his delivery and run across Chicago with him, so I have time to kill. I have a confession to make too, next door to the truckstop is Starbucks, I am weak and have no willpower, I just have to go inside and order a Latte, I can’t help myself.
George also has a penchant for fine coffee, so I’m forced to have another before we head into Chi Town, he justifies this by saying that the rush hour traffic will have died down by the time we get there, personally I don’t care, a Latte is a Latte.
Our traffic forecast was accurate and the Windy City was a breeze…. We made excellent time and soon we were hitting the Indiana line, a few miles down the road we went our separate ways, George to Lebanon, Indiana for a load back to Edmonton, Alberta, me to the I-80/90 and onwards towards the coast. Usually I would also head down I-65 with George, but having time to kill in Milwaukee, I had gone online and checked the weather, my Sirius Radio had announced on the weather reports that there was a chance of Tornadoes from south eastern Indiana all the way through the bottom of Ohio and into West Virginia, my normal route to my destination. I’m not one for putting my head into the Lion’s Mouth, so I elected to run the northern route and stay away from the ugly weather, besides 361 was looking all clean and shiny, no point in letting all the hard work from the truckwash go to waste.
We’ve travelled along the Indiana Toll Road together before, so you’ll be sharing my frustration as I sit at the barrier waiting for somebody to answer the intercom, as usual the EZ Pass reader does not pick up my transponder, even when I climb onto the catwalk and wave it directly at the reader, I’m even more annoyed this time as I get abuse from the woman at the other end of the intercom, apparently it’s my fault that their machine cannot read my transponder, I point out that every other toll road in the country can read it, ore abuse follows, maybe that’s why there’s an intercom, a face to face conversation would probably have a nasty outcome if they speak to everybody like that, there are armed people likely to take exception, me, I go for reverse psychology, I exaggerate my British Accent and become even more polite, this either calms them down, or really gets under their skin, either way, I don’t care, I’m a lover, not a fighter.
The rest of Indiana passes by without issue, I stop at the eastern edge to fuel, I have enough to see me into neighboring Ohio, but that IFTA thing means that the Hoosier State is the place to fuel. I use a Pilot for my fuel and make myself some lunch from my supplies, with minimal equipment, I’ve become quite the chef recently, today’s offering consists of Chicken Breast in Sweet and Sour Sauce with Vegetable Rice. Some of it is store bought, some home made, but I read the labels and always go under the recommended daily allowances. As well as eating tastier food, I’m going to see the benefits to my long term health; no good can come of eating fast food all the time, that is a fact.
Ohio next, the toll booths at the start of their Turnpike have no problem reading my EZ Pass and I keep on rolling as the computer registers my arrival in the Buckeye State, apart from a brief visit to Starbucks it’s hammer down all the way for me, hammer down as far as the 65mph speed limit that is, Ohio State Troopers have a saying ‘At 67 you’re fine, at 68 you’re mine’ they are very vigilant too, they really take it seriously, so does Mike the Safety Director, so far my ■■■■ has not touched his naughty step, I hope to keep it that way.
There’s not much going on alongside the Turnpike, but my Sirius Radio keeps me occupied as the miles roll by, I’m listening to the replay of Freewheelin’ with Chris and Meredith, I missed it this morning as I was chatting with George on the CB, but now I have no such interruptions. As I’ve said before, I love this show, a couple of New Yorker’s who had no prior relationship with the Trucking Industry, yet they really get it now, they occasionally have some serious topics, but mostly it’s just a good old free for all, I find it very entertaining.
By the time the show is over I’m approaching the toll booths at the eastern end of the Ohio Turnpike, the reader does its thing again and I roll on towards the State Line and the PA Turnpike, here the reader manages to communicate with my little transponder at highway speeds and I’m soon on the outskirts of the home of the world’s foremost ketchup, HJ Heinz. None for me tonight though, I’ve got places to go, people to see.
The place is Breezewood, the people are those that appear in my dreams, another day’s work is done, two early starts have seen me arrive here with ample time to take my mandatory ten hour break and still make it to my delivery by tomorrow afternoon, it’s that knowing what I’m doing before I’m doing it thing, it really works. However, first I must sleep.
I awoke from either, a dreamless sleep, or one with a completely unmemorable dream. Now I’m back to reality, it’s time to truck. I have new places to go today and new people to see. A wash, a Latte and a pre trip inspection come first though. The shower was provided by the Travel Centers of America, TA for short and the Latte was provided by the Barista in Starbucks. The pre trip was all my own work and while doing it I got chatting with the driver of the truck parked next to mine, he was very complimentary about 361 and full of questions about driving huge Road Trains out in Australia, it’s the accent again, no matter where I go, people’s first thoughts are that I’m an Aussie, sometimes I tell them I’m British and sometimes I have a little fun, today I was in a mischievous mood, so before I wished him a G’Day, Bruce, as I called him, was left thinking that I used to pull six trailers through the outback and that I wrestled Crocodiles in my spare time.
In North America there are two seasons, Winter and Construction, the sun is shining today, so that means construction, but although this part of the highway system and this part of the country is very busy, the only obstacle it presents is a lower speed limit, I’ve allowed for the unexpected as I’ll be skirting the Nation’s Capitol today, this can be very busy and as it’s construction season you can almost guarantee a back up somewhere along the way, I was not to be disappointed, as soon as I left the Keystone State behind and entered Virginia there was construction everywhere and a sea of brake lights way off into the horizon. Coming from Britain I’m used to this, over there we have 60 million people, every single one of them used to wait until I was ready to go out on the road and they would leave five minutes before me, it was not unusual to spend four hours or more to go less than a hundred miles, this is a piece of cake in comparison.
A small piece of cake as it happens, I’m soon heading south on I-95, DC in the mirrors and the Marine Base and FBI HQ at Quantico somewhere off to my side in the trees. I soon branch east again at the I-64 in Richmond, home of the big Tobacco Companies. I spot a very welcome sign, the familiar sign that adorns the best coffee cups in the business, Starbucks, truck parking nearby too; it’s as if they knew I was coming. I get a to go order for two, one in my Starbucks Thermos Cup for later, one to ease the pain of the next hour.
The pain of a traffic back up, the tunnel that takes me under the Chesapeake Bay is a notorious bottleneck, today it’s at its worse, traffic is backed up for eight miles according to the Gantry Signs, I’ve planned for it, but one day it would be nice if I wasn’t always right!
I make the delivery with half an hour to spare before my appointment. Thanks to some hard work by the guys on the loading dock, I’m on my way, Bills of lading signed, before I was due to get there, I love it when a plan comes together.
Another visit to Washington DC now, my first pick up in Aberdeen, Maryland, is just to the north. As well as being home to my pick up, the Aberdeen Proving Grounds are located here, this is where a lot of weapons testing and other top secret stuff is done. To get to my pick up I have to use the entrance road to the Proving Grounds, there is no left turn, so I have to make a right and then turn around. I don’t go far enough to see anything; just as well really, I’m sure there is a lot of security there.
My log book is nearly full for the day, usual practice here is to drop my trailer on a loading dock and go off to park for the night, however they’re on top form tonight, they tell me to stay hooked to my trailer and within twenty minutes I’m loaded and have my paperwork in my hands. Under normal circumstances this would please me, but I’m stopping here for the night, there’s a truckstop just up the road, but it’s next to a rail line and when a train passes by, which is about every ten minutes, it feels like an earthquake. Usually I park in a quiet little spot I’ve found, but it’s not big enough to get into with 53 foot of trailer behind me, so I have to tough it out at the truckstop. I manage to get a decent night’s sleep as it turns out, the weather is hot, very hot, so I need my air con, to get that I have to run the truck all night, the gentle rumble of the big CAT engine masks the noise of the trains.
No alarm clock this morning, my next pick up is near Boston, Massachusetts. This means I have to go up through Delaware and onto the New Jersey Turnpike, rush hour here is a serious business, much better to let the madness die down before I get out there. I have to time it right though, because there’s a fine line between missing the morning rush and the start of the afternoon rush hour, not down in the Garden State, but further north. I have to go over the George Washington Bridge and then risk life, limb and suspension on the Cross Bronx Expressway as I pass to the north of Manhattan, then I have to head up into Connecticut and on to Rhode Island, this is where a large part of the New York City workforce live and the back ups are horrendous, it’s the only part of the world that I’ve experienced traffic volumes that equal those in London, I moved half way around the world to get away from that, so timing is everything today.
That doesn’t mean I have to miss out on a cup of Starbuck’s finest, have to get my priorities right. 361 needs a feed too so I also need to ■■■■ up some motion lotion. As I’ve said before, Pilot and Flying J are our preferred fuel suppliers south of the border, they’re pretty thin on the ground in the densely populated north east, as are truckstops in general, so I have to grab it while I can, I do have the ability to use other places, but I may as well top off the tanks here, it will last me a couple of days and will get me back into the Midwest where the price is a little lower than the notoriously expensive north east part of the country.
Tanks full and my thirst quenched, it’s time to hit the road again, my first hurdle is the Delaware Memorial Bridge, hopefully it’s a taste of things to come, traffic is very light and I don’t even come to a stop at the toll booths, the EZ Pass doing its thing again. Signs for Atlantic City start to appear, I haven’t yet visited, but I’m keen to have a stroll along the famous Boardwalk. I’ll be able to make comparisons to my childhood walks along the Esplanade on the Isle of Wight, my Mother is from there and we used to visit every year, I have many happy memories of days with my Grandparents, Uncles, Aunts and Cousins as we ran along without a care in the world, as only a child can. I very much doubt that Atlantic City will have the same effect, especially as now I’m officially middle aged, running does not feature in my plans, unless I’m being chased by a fierce dog!
Sirius Radio fills in the gaps when I’m done with reminiscing, I missed Chris and Meredith, but I’ll catch them on the replayed show this evening, today is all about Classic Vinyl, I have some songs stored in my favorites and one was being played, my radio gives me an audible warning when this happens, so I changed channels from the BBC World Service to hear the dulcet tones of Creedence Clearwater Revival and Run through the Jungle, after that it was locked into some good old fashioned Rock Music until the evening.
With my 70s soundtrack I made good time up the New Jersey Turnpike, I stopped off to grab a Starbucks at the last Service Plaza in Jersey. All around here are sights that will be familiar to almost everyone with access to a TV, the Oil Storage Tanks from the opening credits of The Sopranos, to the Manhattan Skyline, with the Empire State Building standing head and shoulders above its peers.
Soon the traffic starts to slow, but I can see the toll booths for the GW Bridge and EZ Pass again makes life simple, I’m soon crossing the Hudson River and looking to my right at the Big Apple, you’ll have heard of my love for California, but my favorite city in the world is NYC, I go there every chance I get, my Wife and I spent a week there when she came on the truck with me, Bill, Kerry and Tracey Brandt were kind enough to allow me to take a week’s vacation there after I had made a delivery nearby, now that’s what I call looking after your employees! Although I wish I was still being paid by the mile, I nearly walked my feet off going from store to store. I also spent a week there for my eldest daughter Chloe’s 16th birthday. They’re both in love with the city too; it really is an amazing place.
No time for hanging out now though, the Cross Bronx Expressway is taking up all of my attention, the roadway is falling to pieces, there are holes big enough to do serious damage to a bulldozer, so I have to keep focused, I have to watch out for the other road users too, most of them must be Volunteer Fire Fighters on the way to the Fire House, they’re all in such a hurry.
361 and I both emerge unscathed from the ordeal, I’m leaving the Empire State behind for a while, next on the list is Connecticut, I motor on until the first Service Plaza, my belly thinks that someone has cut my throat, I’m ravenous, actually that’s a little white lie, but on a past visit I discovered that they serve Foot Long Chili Dogs here, as yet I’ve been unable to pass by without stopping to grab one, they may not fit in with my new healthy living regime, but I’ll live on Lettuce Leaves and Tofu for the rest of the year if I have to, I will be eating one of these bad boys every time I pass by, FACT!
Now I’m full, really full, time to work some of it off with some trucking, only a few hours to go now before my pick up in Randolph, Mass. Freewheelin’ provide the soundtrack and I’m soon in Rhode Island, not far now, after all the excitement and happy memories of the Big Apple, this part of the trip is a bit of an anticlimax, but there are still some pretty sights along the way. The houses in this part of New England have a very nautical air about them; some of them located on the water’s edge are magnificent. On a moonlit night they truly are a sight to behold, not at this time of year though, the sun is still high in the sky as I leave it all behind and enter Massachusetts.
After crossing the State Line I’m soon at the outskirts of Bean Town, I’ve not had the chance to visit the City Center yet, but it’s another place high on my list. I want to visit the bar that appeared in Cheers, among other things, other things that include eating fresh Lobster and maybe sampling some of the local brews, purely in the interests of research, you understand.
As I lick my lips at the thought of some steamed crustacean the miles roll by and I’m pulling into my pick up, way ahead of schedule, hopefully they’ll load me early. I’ve already mentally adjusted my game plan, if all goes well here, I’ll make it back into New York tonight and set up camp in State Capitol, Albany.
Luckily for me, I get on well with the shift leader here, he comes from Argentina and he thinks I’m a little bit loco. When he found out I was English and revealed that he was Argentinean, he thought I would want to talk about the Falkland Islands, or Malvinas, as they call them, for those that don’t know, our countries fought a war over these islands, situated off the coast of Argentina in the early 1980s, we won (hahahaha) but I said I don’t care, they’re welcome to them. What I wanted to talk about was the travesty that occurred in the World Cup when Diego Maradonna, possibly the greatest footballer the World has ever seen, put the ball in the net with his hand, out of sight of the referee, thereby ending England’s World Cup Campaign and breaking the heart of a nation.
My friend soon has me loaded and on my way, I point 361 west and head for Albany, my home for the night. Again truckstops are thin on the ground, but there’s a rest area on the outskirts of the city, there always seems to be room to park here, tonight was no exception and I’m soon shut down for the day. No alarm tomorrow either; I’m way ahead of schedule and have plenty of time to get back to the yard. I’ll still get back as quick as I can, but I feel no need to upset my Circadian Rhythms.
Totally refreshed, I rise from my slumbers at the crack of 10am, today will see off the rest of New York and Pennsylvania, this trip is a bit of an odyssey, from the High Plains to the Midwest, through the Appalachians to the East Coast, from New England into the Great Lakes before hitting the Midwest and High Plains again, before crossing the 49th Parallel and entering the Prairies of the World’s second largest country, my adopted home, Canada, I’ve visited fifteen States and now I’m about to revisit eight of them for the final run home, there’s still a long way to go. This trip is going to run very close to filling up my log book. I’m allowed a maximum of 70hrs work in a rolling 8day period, each day I use 15mins for my pre trip inspection, I use 15mins every time I fuel and checking in at a shipper or receiver has to be logged as 15mins too, even though it’s usually a 5minute process. Loading and unloading may take longer, but I’m not involved in that, the time is my own, so doesn’t count against my 70hr total. Even so, the 15minutes logged for these activities comes off my 70hrs, a really full on week will see me do a maximum of 66hrs driving, allowing four hours for all the other stuff, I normally get this done in 6days. Once I hit 70hrs that’s it, I can go nowhere until I’ve reset my hours, I can do this by parking for 34hrs, unless I’ve spread the 70hrs out over 8days, on day 9 I get my first day’s hours back, it sounds more complicated than it is and I simplify things further by running the 70hrs out and resetting, I usually manage to achieve this at home and quite often I’ll make double sure by taking two or three days off before heading out again, legally I only need the 34hr break, but all work and no play……
This trip will run into seven days, the day from Breezewood to Virginia Beach and on to Aberdeen didn’t fill my daily hours, nor did yesterday’s run up the East Coast, so it’ll leave me time to make it to the yard before a reset is necessary, of course something could go wrong and get in the way of this, but I’ll let you into a secret, I’m at home writing this, so I know that it never, I made it back with a little time to spare!
This is how I managed that, from Albany I ran to Elkhart, Indiana, from there, after a night in the sleeper, I ran to Rothsay, Minnesota and after another night of beauty sleep I did the final 200 miles back to the yard, the beauty sleep hadn’t worked, I was refreshed, but still not pretty, but let’s backtrack a little, I’m still a long way off the yard, plenty more ground to cover yet.
I start by leaving Albany and New England behind, pass through Syracuse and the Finger Lakes region. Rochester and Buffalo are next, I’m now in the Great Lakes. A little while after Buffalo I leave New York and cross into Pennsylvania, a quick stop in Erie for a windshield wash and then it’s down to the Ohio State Line and I’m soon bypassing Cleveland and merging with I-80. I join the Ohio Turnpike and stop in the first Service Plaza to take advantage of the Starbucks located within, while I’m there I take a free shower and have some in cab cuisine, today’s culinary tour de force is Tuna Salad, yippee……
The miles pass by easily, the Great Lakes become the Mid West and Ohio becomes Indiana, my EZ Pass is picked up by the toll booth at the eastern end of the state, that’s a first! My joy is short lived, I need fuel, so have to leave the Toll Road, the Toll Booth cannot read the EZ Pass, so I go through the painful process of shouting into an intercom, thankfully this time I’m not subjected to a tirade of abuse. I get my fuel at the Pilot Truckstop and rejoin the Toll Road, the EZ Pass doesn’t work, again, so I grab a ticket and head off to do the final miles of the day. I park for the night at Elkhart, close to the renowned Notre Dame College, I have no choice, I’m out of time, but proper planning means that I have parked in a Service Plaza with a Starbucks, so tomorrow will start with some milky coffee based goodness, oh yeah.
Again I allowed my body to decide when I arose from my slumbers; I’m about to head into Chicagoland, no point getting up early to sit in heavy traffic. I have my Latte, get my pre trip inspection done and head out on the road, today is going to be a big day, I need to negotiate the remainder of Indiana, including the shambles that are the toll booths at the western end of the state, then into Illinois, through Chicago, up into Wisconsin. Then onwards into Minnesota, around the Twin Cities and then a two and a half hour run to my chosen ■■■■■■■■■■■■ at Rothsay. It all goes well; I get through Chicagoland without a problem, even the construction zones. I say goodbye to Illinois and cross into Wisconsin and stop for lunch in a rest area near Madison. I had salad again, I’m actually starting to enjoy it now, it must be some psychological syndrome.
After lunch I motored on, I let Sirius Radio provide the entertainment, I was very random today, my remote control was put to good use, I was switching from channel to channel like a manual version of IPod shuffle. I arrived in Minnesota as darkness fell, that’s a good thing, after the Twin Cities I’m heading directly west, a setting sun is a beautiful sight, for sure, but not so much fun through a windshield. I arrive in Rothsay as the clock struck midnight, time for bed.
I awoke to a horrible noise today, the sound of an alarm clock, today will be the easiest day of the whole trip, it also has the best destination, home, I have no access to Latte, not until I reach Fargo, North Dakota, a 40minute drive away. Pre trip inspection done, I join the Interstate and point 361 west. I leave Minnesota and enter North Dakota at Fargo, a quick stop to top off the fuel tanks, diesel fuel for 361, Latte for me; all is good in the world now. I leave the Flying J Truckstop, join I-29 and finally point the mighty Pete north.
I-29 runs up through the fields of North Dakota, not a lot to see really, just Canadian trucks rolling south, it’s all over in two hours, the border with Canada is looming through my windshield, no queue today, so I pull up to the window, present the paperwork to my load and my Passport and within two minutes I’m jamming gears again, the final miles going under my still shiny bumper. I arrive at the yard, unhook from my trailer, park 361 and begin unloading my gear from the cab, another week’s work done, I’ve done a lot of miles, seen some wonderful sights and I’m ready for the next trip, but first I need to go home and have some time with my family, a truly happy ending.
