The weeks news. Our first snow, and a tale from my trucking days.

     It’s been a quiet week up here on the mountain. My little slice of heaven in the great northwest.

     We got our first real snow this week. It was supposed to be around six inches, so we moved the pickups to the bottom of the mountain, then put tire chains on the 4 wheelers. The storm wound up dumping a foot of powder on us, not easy to drive a 4-wheeler through, as my son found out when he went to pick up his wife after she got off work. Therefore, last night, he got his snowmobile ready for today’s trip to the pickup so his wife could get to work. I got the battery in mine today, started it, and then moved it around a bit to make sure everything still worked. Later this coming week, the temperatures are supposed to rise again, and hopefully, much of the snow will melt off, allowing us to get the trucks back in again.  

     Allen hasn’t been seen yet and his truck wasn’t at the bottom, so he won’t be going anywhere until it warms up enough to melt the snow. I hope that won’t be next spring.  I heard that part of town lost power for much of last night, with some still not having power yet today. A few have wood stoves, at least, so they will stay warm. The storm caught the county off guard as well, they hadn’t prepared the roads with whatever it is that keeps ice from building up, and as a result, there was a wreck on the highway that stopped everything for a while until it was cleared. I don’t know if there were any injuries yet, and I may not know.

      I realized the other day that I haven’t written much about my early days in the trucking industry. So, here’s a short tale for you.

     I was a new driver, driving the oldest rig at a company by the name of Yarmouth Lumber.  I was somewhere in Virginia on some back road, just having delivered a load, and in bad need of a shower and a hot meal. Well, there was this little truck-stop I happened to see up ahead, one of the now long-gone Union 76 stations. It wasn’t big, it had a dirt parking lot, and the restaurant was only a few tables. I asked about showers, dreading having to wait until I could get to one of the larger truck-stops along the interstate.  I was told the showers were in the basement. I quickly grabbed clean clothes and my shaving kit, paid $5 for the shower, and headed downstairs.

     Imagine my shock to find that the showers were in one room, with no door, and there was a washer and dryer there as well.  There were six shower stalls, none with any form of privacy, and a few sinks for shaving or brushing teeth. Well, I needed a shower, because unloading a 48-foot trailer is very dirty work, and in the summer heat, you sweat buckets. I was not about to go another day without bathing.  I quickly stripped down and jumped in, the water was at least hot, and that being all that mattered to me as I washed the grime off.

     I had just finished my hair, when I felt something on my foot. Looking down, I spotted a rather large cockroach using my big toe as an island from the torrent of water cascading down upon it.  I finished quickly after that, got dressed, and headed back to the front counter to have a word with the clerk there about their facilities.  The upshot is that I was refunded my $5 for the shower.  From there, I had a so-so meal and went to bed for eight hours.

     I don’t remember where that truck stop was after all these years, and even if I did, Union 76 truck-stops are long gone now, swallowed up by larger, more modern travel plazas with every modern convenience travelers might desire.  There are more tales from my time over the road, and I will share more of them in future writings.

Well, that’s all the news for the week. Bye for now.