|Nine Day Trip.|
____ Friday morning and I'm up and away early; first into the yard at the delivery address after overtaking a third Ruby truck at the last set of lights. First unloaded and away across Laredo for a trailer switch; a bonded load from Mexico, going to Calgary, Alberta. Twenty-five thousand pounds of cargo while the Mackem phones to say he has 44,000 lbs of fruit juice, also, going to Calgary. We arrange to meet at Cooper's BBQ Restaurant, at the junction of Interstate 10 and US Highway 83, in the town called Junction.
____ The food is good although an extra rib and an extra slice of brisket would have made it prefect. We sit under an old oak tree, beside the six barbeque pits and watch the world roll by as hordes of feral cats come creeping around as dusk descends. Back at the trucks; we have two oversize loads as neighbours. Lonny and Brad hauling roof-top air-conditioners from California to Houston on double-drop low-loaders. They have a barbeque set up on the back of a trailer and a case of ice cold Budweiser. They call us over for a beer and a chat. Brad has his girlfriend, Heather, with him and is in his element; holding court and telling stories while the rest of us make half-hearted attempts to catch the cutest feral kitten for Heather.
____ Another three long days are needed to get to Calgary for Tuesday morning. The evening meals are at Hickory House, Lamar, Colarado, and the Country Kitchen at Sheridan in Wyoming before the A and W burger bar at Vulcan, just south of Calgary. Another trailer switch and I am heading East; to Saskatchewan but also straight into a police speed-trap. An oasis of 80 kph in the desert of 100 kph where the Stoney Trail joins the Highway X22. A money-maker for the police and it is easy to see why so many drivers despise the tactics of law enforcement officers. One hundred in an eighty limit and a $160 fine; an occupational hazard. Hookers and truckers: the only two professions that go to work knowing that they will get fucked.
____ Just a few miles along the X22 is a huge billboard on First-Nation land warning about the dangers of crystal-meth; such irony. Why don't the police show such dedication to catching drug-dealers as they do for catching speeding drivers? Then maybe such vast tracts of North American society would not consider them as the enemy? On to Moose Jaw for the night before loading salt at Belle Plaine; then back to Steinbach to complete the triangle.
|Three Ruby Truckline on the bank at Laredo, Texas.|
|Harvest is nearly over for another year.|
|Yellow truck with yellow log shifter.|
|First six days mileage and hours.|
|Drilling rig on 11 axle heavy-hauler.|