I forgot to mention, we sometimes go from Russellville, Arkansas to Atlanta, Georgia. Like I did.
The trailer I dropped Sunday night for unload was the one they chose to load up with product heading for my next trip, so I rehooked Monday morning and boogied eastward. I had it timed so I would be going through Memphis around 1400 and this made that part of the trip a breeze. This also put me in Birmingham at around 1800 so that went smoothly as well. I like planning ahead in this fashion to avoid traffic when I can.
Just east of Birmingham the satellite unit went off with not one but two preplans. First, after I dropped on the southwest side of Atlanta I would have to head north on I-75 to Calhoun, Georgia then shuttle a loaded trailer from there back down to the southwest side of Atlanta. A shit sandwich, in other words.
The second preplan wasn’t that great either. It was a brokered load from Lafayette, Georgia heading to Dallas. Being unfamiliar with Lafayette I mapped it and found that it was in the northwest part of the state, a ways away from the interstates. That would be interesting.
My drop at AmeriCold took place like clockwork, and I figured I had just enough time to run up to Calhoun before my 14-hour clock ran out. At 660 miles, it was a long driving day. I got in just before 0100 local time, dropped the empty I had picked up and hit the sack hard.
I awoke this morning with a new message. Disregard that second preplan in Lafayette and instead return back to Calhoun after I delivered the shag load for a load of carpet leaving between 2000 and 2300 tonight. Said load being due in Omaha on Thursday morning at 0600, meaning I would have to cover at least 300 of the 920ish miles tonight to be able to get it there on time.
Then word came down that the people receiving the shag load no longer wanted it and I would just be doing the carpet load. THEN I go inside the shipper to use the facilities and talk up the staff to see if there was any chance the load might be ready early.
“Oh, we thought you were here for last night’s load that never picked up.” Ears perk up.
“Uh… yeah, I mean that one. Can I see the paperwork pretty please?”
Armed with the bills I retreated to my truck and spoke with my dispatcher. He said he would speak with someone who would speak with someone who might be able to make a decision, and it would take a while so he’d call me back. After 30 minutes or so, I call him back and tell him I’m stealing the damn trailer, ’cause Hill Bros doesn’t have enough salt and pepper to eat all of me, at least not in one sitting.
The skies clear and I’m given the go ahead to take that load and I’m rolling, rolling, rolling rawhide.
Instead of grabbing the load at 2000 at the earliest then running until 0200 or 0300, here I am in Mt Vernon, Illinois at 1930 getting ready to take a shower and do some shopping at Wal Mart. Some days work out that way.