Trucking Accident.

I totally hit an old guy in an Audi. He was passing me on the right shoulder when I turned right. My tire messed up his bumper. His ticket was for improper passing on the right ($300, 4 points, mandatory court). My ticket was for no seat belt ($40, 0 points, mail it in and get it reduced to 0 points).

I also got to do a roadside drunk test, and was a smart ass during that. He held up a pen and told me to follow the light with my eyes. I told him that I didn't see a light, only a ballpoint pen.

You Can Drive The Big Rigs

Today was my first (semi) successful route with my grey goose. Last week, I lost an important 1/8" air line to the transmission--no shift, no brakes, no nothing.

It was like truck-driving school 101 - shifting today. As it turns out, the tranny has been switched, but the shift pattern decal illustrates the old transmission. It goes something like this:

Ever since I drove the beast from New (Fucking) Jersey--that was horrible--I thought that 4/8 was broken. A light bulb went on late last week, and I tried something different (and reved the hell out of the engine). Totally, dude...it goes like this:

Real subtle, huh? Shifts like a maniac now, though. I'm actually not that good at floating gears in the goose, but I'm improving quickly. My upshifts are solid, as long as I remember that confounded pattern. Downshifts aren't a smooth endeavor; I still have to double-clutch 'em most of the time. At least I don't have someone barking gears at me:



I got stuck 4 times today in Boulder. I quickly learned that the power divider lock is great if you only want to go in a straight line. Eight wheels pushing means the front end is so light that steering inputs have zero effect. It's kind of lame. The old guy ordered me two sets of the TRYGG (Norwegian) ice chains:


With two sets of singles, I'll have lots of flexibility to put 'em on the front (although the zigzags would be best), or on either rear axle.

Cool, in many ways

I spent most of the day talking drive-line-retarders with a dude over here. It's impressive technology--85% of braking from magnets means cooler (groovy!) and a lot less wear on the air brakes and the top end of the motor (from engine brakes). The kit for $5K seems like a bargain to me--the old man wanted to spend $2K on a used unit that we would have to fabricate brackets for, as well as purchase the controls. We'll still have to shorten the drive shaft, but we do that all the time anyway (when we're not stretching frames and shit).

I'm thinking that we need to implement this technology on all of our trucks. They build units for 8,000 to 150,000 (seriously illegal on roads) GVWs.

Of course, I found a video from the manufacturer (dig that soundtrack, and garbage trucks). Look at the coils! The winder is like a giant pickup winder! A cool video for gear heads:

I Always Wondered WTF Was Up With This; Truck Wrecks Rock

Since I'm now in charge of maintenance schedules and DOT compliance, I need to do lots of studying. I stumbled onto this:

Truck classification from Wikipedia.

That's the notorious unit #13 (who thought that numbering a truck this was a good idea?) Sterling Aceterra (33,000 GVWR). It's been good for parts for it's longer sister, #16. The current #13 (a Freightliner FL70) is the one that I rolled last year (the pavement broke, really--you can see it in the photo):

The Road Warrior

It feels like it, anyway. I used to drive a lot more when I was consulting during the damn-fool water well project. 1,200-and-something miles in two days seems like a lot now.

On Wednesday, I was sent to Scranton, Iowa, to have a body "partially mounted" (technical term) on the truck that I drove from California last year. As it turns out, "partially mounted" is the "Mexican Way," if you ask José, or the "Irish Way," if you ask Mahoney. My evaluation of the "chain it to the frame" method is "a half-assed way." Apparently, the truck-builders felt the same way, and I wasn't able to convince them into such nonsense.

The New-Way facility is totally awesome. I got a factory tour. There were no robots here, though (thank goodness...they'd have had their way with me). Scranton Manufacturing is a small company that has grown enough to compete with the big boys in refuse equipment (Heil, McNeilus, etc). They just got the contract to build 300 trucks for the Beijing Olympics.

They do indeed build some nice equipment. It's pretty, and reliable (trash man speaking here). They're nice guys, too.

I shot some photos of the yard (no top-secret factory photos here):

Rearview Sunset

Indeed, you too can learn to drive the big rigs

I was surprised that I had a fifth wheel. Should've picked up a load. An unloaded tractor makes for an awfully rough ride.

Lost And Found and lost again

Been a lot foggy lately, my friends. Running red lights...stopping at green ones..."losing" important documents. Essentially, I feel high, however, that is not the case. It's like someone is putting depakote in the water supply (supposed to be on 1,500 mg a day). Really miserable. I believe that this numb feeling is a stress-related deal. I've got the "I'm stressed out" rash, again (third time since I was 17). I seem to be dealing fairly well this time.

I probably require a vacation and some weed.

This weekend was restorative, though. My pets are feeling lonely, for sure, but those little assholes have been getting on my nerves. I'm feeling better about the girl after moving in for a few days. We made it out to a show (saw a lot of pals). I had "lost" my driver license. The fucking patriot act means that I can't make a deposit at the bank without one (fuckers). The state of Colorado doesn't accept my birth certificate as valid (although I was born in a U.S. military hospital in country). It's a two-day hassle to get another license. Fuckers.

Practice with BLC was instrumentalists and missing a bass player (put me on the spot without a net). I'm still feeling things out, for sure. My "menacing" tone might not work for this band. I'll try something different for the next practice. If I get the dynamics right, I think that it's doable, though. That's a reasonable goal, right? It's proving to be difficult to adjust to a much quieter band (on 2, the practice rig is far too much--The OC goes to 11). I think that they would've said something if I had been really obscene. They're used to a subliminal bass player, which isn't what I've been doing lately. Andrew did clue me into a decrescendo that I totally did wrong. Thanks, dude--I got it now. It's all going to work out with a little practice. One month until the debut of the unfuckwithable new lineup. Fingers crossed.

I found the MIA license in a truck that I drove a week ago today. Excellent.

Later, I got a bad phone call with another cancer scare. Why is it that everyone I really care about is having these fucking issues?!? Meanwhile, back in my crotch, the "lymphoma" seems to have cured itself sans medical intervention. Whoot.

I'm probably dying. Whoot.

mission accomplished

the small cat apparently is not a fan of home alone.

outside of an unfortunate cellphone disaster (no phonebook no more), the treep was okay. the truck is cool. one of the high points of the trip was jose regaling me with tales of corpus christi back in the day:

"we used to go to the part of town that we called the nigger town."
"i was maybe 13 or 14 years old."
"no one said shit and there they give me beer and there was music and girls."
"a lot of girls."
"they used to call me the nigger fucker."
"i never fucked a black girl."

certainly it's not the same if you're not in a "family restaurant" with a hard of hearing mexican diesel mechanic. it was hilarious, really.

Illinois, bitches!?!

Jose and I get to take a treep to pick up another truck in Illinois (Rangoon, as mahoney calls it--actually it's rantoul, IL--ought to be Indiana, really). Am I the only one that thinks that a Midwestern road trip in a strange vehicle in February is a bad idea? I suppose that it'll be no worse than the new jersey odyssey through the July 4th weekend. Weekends are best, because the weigh stations are mostly closed, so they won't be checking the (non-existent) logbook. Legally, 11 hours a day is the maximum for OTR drivers, but I prefer to do 15 or 16.

The truck is supposedly pretty sweet--a 2003 Sterling with a 16 yard NUWAY, a Benz motor (hinkey germans), an Allison tranny. It'll have AC and a radio. Whoot! This treep will be better than that last one. Any Jose teep should be memorable, with some Jose antiques, for sure. SALSA.

This means that Nitwit gets a vacation, and that Monkeypuss will be home alone. I'm a bit troubled by the travel since it means time away from my lady-friend (more about her another time).