Friday, November 18, 2005

Morning folks. That was a bit of fun yesterday with the "names" in the comments. It all started with an e-mail from this lady that I forwarded to a few people that played along. If I was more adept at this stuff I'd show you what I'm talking about, but to copy/paste would take up enough space for 3 posts. Oh well, no biggie, but it was fun.

It's also been fun this week, for me at least, with the "posts from the past". At the risk of wearing out my welcome with you guys I'll put this one last one up for now. This one was in response to a reader that wanted to know about a trip I made to Arkansas. If I was to write this one today my sentiments about certain things would not be as harsh, but it is as written at the time, Feb 28th. The WDNNST was simply me goofing around, as in "We Don't Need No Steenkin' Titles".

The week-end here will be the usual, Saturday Chuckles, and a Robert Service poem on Sunday. Now that I've been taught a certain technique I'll be able to put the poem up as it should appear, I hope. Also one of his longer ones that speaks to his, and my, love of the Yukon.

WDNNST


First off, let's get rid of those stupid letters in the title. Numbering the posts should be sufficient differentiation(wow, what a word) between them for my "legion of fan". An economy of scale, if you will. As for the "legion", I appreciate every one of them, even the ones I have to bribe.

One of my "legion" has been wanting to go to Batesville Arkansas. OK Rob, lets load up and make some miles. Remember the rules; get in, sit down, hold on, and shut up.

Picked up a load of mill equipment...lathes, presses etc. at a place that was re-locating to Arkansas. Seems they had learned how to do things the Murkan way, as in starvation wages, no benefits, and a building that was practically given to them. The mill was located in Crow's Nest Pass, Alberta. A more beautiful place is hard to find. They had been paying approx. $24/hr with full benefits, down there it would be approx. $7.50/hr with no benefits of any kind. Oh well.

The trip down went OK, although I had to play cat-and-mouse with a few scales because I was a bit heavy. All part of the game. Last state to run through before arriving is Missouri. The home of the original "throwed rolls". You want another bun, here she comes! Interesting area, friendly people. Then we arrive in Batesville. First thing I did was look around for the cameras, because I was sure I was in the middle of a scene out of the Twilight Zone. Like going back in time.

Drive along slowly, looking for a place to park and ask directions. Ah, there's one of those chain steak houses, Rustler or something, with a monster parking lot. Pull in, go to the far back of the lot, park, and go in to eat. Ask the "manager" if it would be OK to park there for the night, he said sure, so sat down to eat. First thing I noticed was that every one seemed to look alike. Oh well, must be in the shallow end of the gene pool.

Next morning, Sunday, is when the fun started. Sitting in the truck, catching up on paper-work, and see this older, wild-eyed, ashen-faced guy heading for me. Roll the window down, and he starts yelling at me to get off the property..now! I explained that I had got permission, but he did'nt care, he was the owner, and go now. Was letting the truck warm up a bit, but got sick of his yelling, so I pulled out onto the street. He must have had a bad morning wrestling with the snakes at his church! Was'nt long before the local version of Buford T Justice pulls up, and he starts yelling. Christ, are'nt these people getting ANY. I finally got Bubba settled down by explaining that all he had to do is tell me where this place was...and stop yelling! So Buford pulls around in front of me, hits the siren a couple of short blasts, turns on the disco lights, and off we go! I've seen Presidential parades that did'nt get as much attention.

Pulled onto the property, got out of the truck, and walked out to the road and thanked Bubba for his help. He seemed disappointed that the big show was over. Even though it was Sunday, there was a few guys working inside. Turned out one of the guys was from Alberta, down there to set things up. He said if I was willing to run the fork-lift, I could back in and un-load right then. You betcha! Got that done, he signed my paper-work, and we went for coffee. After chatting with him for awhile, he agreed, that whole place is in a time-warp. Lucky for me, he had to stay, I was outta there. Called my dispatcher at home, and told him that if he did'nt have a load for me right there, I was getting outta Dodge, he did'nt and I did. Besides, I was afraid of cross-pollination.

Was going to call Bubba to lead me out of town, but figured he'd be elbow-deep into a bag of jellies, so hauled ass until I crossed into Oklahoma, not exactly cosmopolitan but light years from where I just left. Pulled into the first place that had room to park, was welcomed by friendly people, and spent a pleasant day at this little road-side inn.

I'm sure there are lots of fine people in Batesville, just don't go looking for them in a big-truck. Fact is a lot of towns treat truckers like that. They order the loads, but don't want to accomodate you when you arrive.

Trucker Bob blogged at 4:34 AM

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