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Greetings
as always, Chieficionados!
First
of all, begging a million pardons to those of you out there
faithfully fighting The Good Fight, i.e., forcing all Swift trucks to
the side of the road and checking to see if your boy The Chief (tm) is
at the helm. (My sources tell me that this activity has, on occasion,
been met with what can best be described as “consternation”.) You see,
you were given bad information! That's right! Because The Chief (tm) is
not at the controls of a Volvo VNL 780, but of
a Freightliner Cascadia Evolution instead. And he forgot to tell you
all! But keep up the good work.
On
the topic of “work”, we (that's the truck and I) have been
pinballing around pretty good, from CA as far east as AR & LA and
back, and so on. Lots of interstate work but also the backroads. Have
seen gas prices as low as $1.799 (OK & NM) and temperatures as high
as 119 (Phoenix). Have passed through many towns which are clearly on
the downslope in terms of financial / commercial viability; some in
which the only still-operating entities are churches and gas stations,
and 95% of the cars are dented up, faded GM products of mid-'90's
vintage. Oh, and FWIW, you do not see too many Teslas anywhere
outside of
California...
Also
some gems though, perhaps my favorite of which was a roadside sign
in central Arkansas which read, simply, “Liquor & Boots”. About
five miles later, on a two-lane road in the middle of nothing but
trees, there was a free-standing store whose two separate marquees read
-- in the same exact typeface as the sign -- “Liquor” over one door,
and over the other, “Boots”. So they apparently weren't kidding around!
Between liquor and boots, pretty much all else a body needs to survive
is velcro and beef jerky.
One
day we were at a gigantic air-conditioned Amazon distribution
center where you pull in and someone comes over with a handheld
wireless device that scans the barcode on your truck, prints out a
slip, and directs you to which dock to swap trailers at.
The
very next day we were at a hot, filthy, dusty (but mercifully not
smelly) recycling yard in Albuquerque to pick up 38,000 pounds of
recycled plastic, quite a bit of it from discarded baby products
(riding & pushing toys, floor-based game sets, etc.) And we drove
that plastic all the way to Springhill, LA, to a manufacturing plant in
which the plastic literally goes in one end and comes out the other --
as railroad ties!
And
just today we carried (according to the bill of lading) 87,125
items -- but which only weighed 6,100 lbs. WTF? Empty plastic bottles,
going to a bottler of Arizona Iced Tea and Gatorade!
So
you never know.
Anyway,
hope all is well with everyone. Chief (tm) oot!
-- Sincerely,
The Chief (tm),
a.k.a. The Pacific Standard (tm)
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