Back in 1973, I was still kinda “fresh”. They was tryin' to put me in prison. I was in way over my head. I had gone back to drivin' over the road. Mostly it kept me outta bars. From the time I was 16, I had what was called a Minnesota Chauffeur's license. It was license to drive any size vehicle on the road. I bought A “COE” CAB OVER ENGINE with sleeper made by Freightliner. I had been pushin' a Peterbilt but had spun a main bearing, got the “Liner” for the price of a motor rebuild, always on the road, operating costs up, freight prices down.
Anyhoo, after welding up a headache rack (it keeps the freight from coming into the cab in an accident), the tractor and I hooked to an outfit that was pullin' pipe outta the Gulf, Louisiana and Mississippi. I was drop loadin hook onto a loaded trailer, usually a hour turn around. I was also crankin' about an “8-ball” every 5 days. It got me home.
Once back in Mpls, I would pick up another load of pipe- actually the pipe was re-skinned and ready to be sent back to the oil platforms. Salt water will deteriorate the pipe in a few months, so they are 'reskinned' in Plymouth MN. After crashin' for two days, a shit, shower and shave, I would make my truck payment, pay the fuel bill, and visit my dope man. Throw my “old whore” some scratch- she was a retired hooker, now she said that pussy was free to me!! Rode her own 'Shovelhead”. She did what she had to. I would be back on the road and my two trips a week to the Gulf.
A little about my home. I took over payments on a 1972 Freightliner, custom powered by a 425 Cat,14 speed
“splitter” tranny (COE) Cab over engine. She was a hillclimber with all them gears. Cabovers are “Rough Riders” because of their short wheelbase. A bud spray painted flames on her. I named her “Sweet Baby'. She had a sleeper, which I had pulled the bed to make room for my Harley XLCH 900cc Sportster. I built a hydraulic hoist to off and upload the bike, and an oversized sleeper door took me less than 5 minutes to go from 18 wheels to two wheels. Everything else I owned was tools, jeans, tees and leathers. I had put in a kickass 8-track and radio with a dozen speakers, a CB (citizens band) with PA (public address) system. The PA was illegal unless you're a cop. I had a radar detector.
I also rigged a “pisser”. You ever get splattered when you're next to a truck? It's an operator dumpin' his piss bucket, which was made from a funnel, plastic hose and gallon container. It takes a while, but eventually you learn to piss while driving. You lose money and time stoppin', so you only stop to refuel, but that isn't often since you installed those 150 gallon fuel tanks on each side of your rig.
One of my peeves about the South... You got to refuel in their state, where you get a fuel stamp that you put in your log book so that Roadmaster will see you're payin' his wages and he won't drag you off to jail. In those days that's how it was.
After a couple years of this insanity, I broke down. I needed off the crank, and along with my Nam PTSD, I ended up on the psych ward in the old VA. I was lucky to find out I wasn't completely insane. This was about the time thousands of “Independents” went under. The cost of fuel, tires, insurance had all gone up. It would take a nationwide shutdown and Congress to get freight costs to match the high cost of truckin'.
Most of my old buds that cranked on are now dead and gone. One of these days I will write about them when I get done at being pissed off at 'em! I take pills to slow my heart down. I still drink a little.
These days new technology, computers, radar reads your weight as you're driving by the weigh station. New tractors with auto-transmissions, radar screens with satellite transmission that show you whats beside, behind over, under, any lights out, tires going low, engine problems, when to refuel, where you are at. They got walkin sleepers with a toilet and shower, microwave, fridge, TV, stereo and, of course, a PC, mostly laptops.
Truck stops are equipped to handle downloads, uploads, automatic refueling, provide heat, or air, so you can shut your rig down. Willie Nelson owns a truck stop in Texas. He sells only the diesel fuel alternative 'Veggie Oil' .
In 1985, I got my last DWI, and lost all my licenses! Now I only have a class C.
Anyhoo, I got this real old irritating song. It is a historical account of bein' over the road back in the 70s! It's called “Convoy”, written and sung by a twanger named CW McCall, which ain't his real name, it's Johnson which ain't a real twangers name! It was a toss-up between “6 days on the road” and this un!
Twang me! Twang me! Oughta take a rope and Twang Me! Great to see Slim Friday is back and “fresh”. Seems he is the only one of us havin' any fun in his Life!!! FFO Slim!!! Rat
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