Alpharetta Slow.

____ I have blogged about four years of trips since I started and it has been part of my end of trip routine. I did give it a six month break after my sister-in-law died of cancer. I went back to the UK for her funeral and found that my brother was undergoing chemo-therapy; fighting his own battle against the big C. He hadn't told me about it as he didn't want me to worry. Blogging truck-driving trips didn't seem so important.

____ But I've drifted back into writing and the routine. Get home, make a cup of tea, open mail, put laundry in washer, fire-up laptop, make map, transfer washing to dryer, upload photos from camera, write something, fold clean clothes while still warm, publish blog, drink long tall glass of Bacardi and Coke, watch Netflix until I doze-off.

____ This trip was a little different as I came home to some serious plumbing problems in the basement and the laundry had to wait. As I write this; I am half-way through my next trip and having a log-hours reset in  sunny New Brunswick. It's a job to remember much about the last excursion into the US; except that it was a bit like the old Flying Eagle used-truck-parts loads to Atlanta. Three easy days down,  a six hour unload at Alpharetta, reload Newnan for Winnipeg on the Tuesday. Back in the house; Thursday afternoon as the truck went of  for it's 6-monthly safety inspection.

____Overall Distance: 5454 km.

Righting the waiting wrong.

How many hours of every day?

Is given free and taken away.

From a driver’s hard-earned take-home pay.

The company only earns while the wheels are turning,

So the driver only earns when the company’s earning.

But the hypocrites preach “Safety” a lot.

Whilst “Cents-per-mile” is definitely not.
It's a dangling carrot-donkey situation,
Cause of endless stress and frustration.

A full “Pre-trip” has to be done.

But most expect it done for fun.

Log-books should be neat and correct,

But manage your hours to good effect.

Stop on amber and never speed,

But “Hammer-down” when they feel the need.

Will it end with an on-board recorder?

Will it put this mess in order?

With truckers paid for every hour,

From log-on till their evening shower.

Four-Way Flashers In The Rain.

____ Getting out of a warm bed to go home at 5-thirty on a Sunday morning is not the best way to start a trip. After getting my stuff together and bob-tailing halfway across Winnipeg looking for a trailer; it was 10.30 before I got into cruise control, eastbound on the Trans-Canada Highway. Twelve hours later, I was crawling back into bed at Longlac; 1000 kilometres away in the Canadian Shield.

Still standing; Sturgeon River bridge with beams delivered by Flying Eagle Heavy Haul.

____ A similar stint behind the wheel on the Labour Day Holiday Monday put me at the King City On-Route motorway service area, just north of Toronto. After battling with the returning cottage-country traffic from Muskoka, I was ready to battle the commuter rush in the morning. Unloaded, begrudgingly, at Mister Grumpy's furniture distribution company, I had a short wait before the reload at Ajax came through. Wall-plaster to be delivered to Fort Mackay, Alberta, by Friday. I advised that it would be Friday afternoon and the office came back and told me that Monday would be fine.

Mack with solar panels on the hood and roof of the sleeper.

____Then the heavens opened as I headed north out of Toronto in busy afternoon traffic. Why does heavy rain make people drive along with their four-way flashers working? I had slowed down because I couldn't see and was being overtaken by the four-way flashers! Maybe it's their way of saying, "I am a hazard."

____ New Liskeard to the Time Zone Plaque at Savanne on Wednesday had me thinking that I would be home by mid-afternoon on Thursday. Then BEEP; a satellite message asking if I could deliver on Friday; the load was urgent [again]. Mid-day Saturday was the best I could offer; after I'd eased-up when it looked like it was going to be Monday. Hammer down and I was at Syncrude's truck-staging area with an hour to spare.

You don't have to be mad to work here.

____ Now, every product taken onto the Syncrude site has to have an identity analysis data-sheet and my fire-proof wall-plaster did not have the necessary clearance to gain entry. So although it was urgent, they turned me away at the gate. Never mind, a parcel delivery company in Fort McMurray agreed to take it and I was empty by three o'clock on Saturday afternoon; ready to run down to Edmonton for what was left of the Weekend.

Syncrude, Mildred Lake.

____ Who the hell finds reloads for dry freight vans out of the Oilsands? Payne Transportation does and it was a good job they told me about it before I headed-off south. Used Caterpillar parts from the dealer at Fort Mackay; load Monday 08.00. So, two nights in the dirty old town of Fort McMurray; with it's complete lack of driver facilities and it's sky-high prices. To think, I could have had two nights in my own bed. It rained all Sunday with a certain dampness also in the cab; as if someone had been pissing-up my back.

Big old shovel at the free-to-enter Oilsands Interpretative and Discovery Center.

____ And the bloody Caterpillar bits only went to Edmonton! Then it was up to Westlock for some of the plastic grain bags. Three farms in Saskatchewan; thank heavens for cell-phones or I would still be looking for them now. But you do meet some nice people on the farms of the Prairies; so different from those jobs-worth shits in the oil industry. The whole trip ended-up with 8686 kilometres in 11 days; so it wasn't too shabby after-all. Except that it snowed on the way home and it's a sign that Winter is just around the corner.

Old Oilsands bulldozer with radiator on the roof; at Dicovery Center.

Marwayne-Hague.

____ A continuation of last weeks trip with the reels of cable. Two drops in Calgary, with the first delivery scheduled for 06.30 Monday morning. That will be a Saturday afternoon start then. Moose Jaw cuts the distance in half; an early finish in Calgary gives me enough time to go to the casino and make it an expensive day.

The new model Argosy; looking better with a moose bar.

____ Only 4 kilometres between the drops and I'm having breakfast at the Petro Pass, up near Calgary Airport at eight-thirty; empty and ready to wait for my next assignment. Mid-day and a message arrive together; load in Edmonton, in the morning, three drops Alberta and Saskatchewan. Not the real mouth-watering miles that I was expecting as all the waiting around makes me wonder if I'm getting over-looked for the good earning opportunities or if good work is scarce because of the holiday season.

I just caught the front corner of a nice white 386 Peterbilt in this photo.

____ Loaded and away early Tuesday with plastic film in rolls and on pallets. White plastic that the agricultural industry will use to wrap hay-bales, cover silage mounds and store grain in long white bags that lay in the fields. First drop, Marwayne, and thank heavens for cell-phones. Getting hold of hard-working farmers and arranging a rendezvous has never been so easy. As the address on the paperwork was completely different to where the farmer wanted the stuff; I could have wasted half-a-day. Instead, I was in and out in 15 minutes; including a conversation about unsold grain that was still in the farmer's grain bins, the shortage of rail-cars for grain-trains and about how white plastic would save this year's harvest.

The new white sight in the fields of Canada.

____North Battleford; this time an "Ag" merchant. Not enough time to get to the last drop at Hague; so into the Flying'J at Saskatoon. The fourth night of the trip and the fourth 'J; Moose Jaw, Calgary, Edmonton and now the Toon. Not an exciting variation but probably the best showers available at those locations.

____Empty at Hague; then because the rental trailer is going "Off-Hire" at the end of the month; empty back to Winnipeg. The longest day of the trip; where all the others had been of eight hours or less. Nice, laid-back, easy-going trip of 3335 kilometres; back Thursday night, going out again Sunday and earned fuck-all.

Eleven-Seventeen 5131 km.

____A midday start on a Sunday; a late finish will give me the cool of the night but running in the dark is the problem. Ignace to Thunder Bay can be like driving through a zoo and animal strikes peak at dusk. I don't encounter any four-legged friends and reach Santorrelli's Truckstop without incident; ready for the first-drop of a seven-drop trailer-load.

____Most long trips have a couple days that are harder than the rest; on this trip, days 2 and three will make or break it. After Thunder Bay, drop 2 is in Barrie but Sudbury is as far as I get after a long slog along the north shore of Lake Superior. Then an eight hour break before making an onslaught on my remaining customers; Barrie, Scarborough, Port Hope, Belleville and Apsley, where they stay open to six in the evening.

____The reload is cable from Johnstown; then its the long slog back across to Winnipeg. Canada, where there are two seasons; Winter and Roadworks. Highway 17 had plenty of construction on the east-bound journey; Highway 11 matches it on the west-bound route. With 5131 kilometres in six days; its hard work behind the wheel.

Amish haymakers.

Manitoulin Argosy.

Bobtail on-route to a show.

White two-axle bobtail.

Pre-She-Ate-It-Dry-Fur

Lucky truck that grabbed the last pull-thru
Must have pulled in here at half past two.
A lot have been here most of the day,
Sitting about, no miles, no pay.
I’m driving round in the pouring rain,
When you finish late, always the same.

They never build ‘em big enough,
Just one spot left that’s ultra-tough.
Probably a drivers biggest ask,
I only hope I’m up to the task.
It sorts out the truckers from the rest,
One day it might be part of the test.

Under the gaze of a hundred eyes,
It could take more than a dozen tries.
Not time and place to get it wrong,
Better not have the CB on.
Best to start with the angles right,
We’re talking inches, it’s oh-so tight.

Then above all the noise of fridges’ humming,
A voice at the back; shouts “Keep it coming.”
Getting wet, out there in the dark,
A guardian angel is helping me park.
“Pre-She-Ate-It-Dry-Fur.”

Assiniboia Downs Horse Racing.

____ A Saturday evening in Winnipeg, Manitoba, from May to September and the best entertainment on offer. Great value, free entry, good food, relaxed atmosphere and betting available from $2 and up. I cannot understand why more people don't go. The grandstand might be 50 years old but there is comfortable seating and flat-screen TVs everywhere. Eight races a night with an average of 6 horses in each. I only get to go about five times a year but usually pick 2 or three winners each visit. Never won big and only drawn a blank on one occasion but always enjoyed it.

Vee-Trip 11280 km.

____ Setting off from Winnipeg at 5 o'clock on a Friday afternoon is probably not everyone's idea of an ideal time to start a two-week long-haul trip; me included. But it does have the one advantage; when I finish work in the dead of night, the heat will have gone from the day and I will get a good night's sleep. That scenario also works well for the second night; but after three long shifts at the wheel, I am in Florida and August nights do not cool-off. Staying hot and humid.

Spotted at a rainy Florida Truckstop.

____Tuesday morning, bright and early; just 18 pallets to come off and I'm northbound heading to Augusta, Georgia. The regular reload for all Payne trucks in the South-East US and with the company contracted to deliver throughout Canada, I get a load destined for the Province of Quebec. A two day run; crossing at the 1000 Island Bridge into Ontario and running up to the Flying J at Lancaster.

____ The two drops just a few miles apart but separated by the city of Montreal and the St. Lawrence River. It's Friday and I need to get  reloaded as well, so waiting for the rush-hour to finish is not an option. The Pont de Champlain is slow but I keep moving; traffic on the bridge is about the same when I come back 90 minutes later; heading back to within a few miles of my first drop for the reload. I told the office that I had enough driving hours to keep working in Canada; but they reload me for North Carolina. Going south will necessitate a log-hours reset before I can legally drive back into the US. So it is back to Lancaster; to sit from noon, Friday, until early Sunday morning.

A freighter going past Montreal on the St. Lawrence Seaway.

____ After a slow start; the Sunday traffic builds as I spend the whole day, southbound, on Interstate 81 after re-crossing at the salad-dressing suspension structure. Harrisburg cuts the distance to Henderson, NC, in half; also there is a lack of truck parking around Washington, the nation's capital. The late afternoon delivery appointment makes the heavy traffic and delays irrelevant. Interstate 95 congestion doesn't stop me getting to the RDC an hour early. Another late finish; this time at Graham, NC. where the Flying J has 250 parking places. I only need one stall and figure there should still be few vacancies even at mid-night.

____ Rock Hill, just south of Charlotte, is where the reload is waiting; a heavy load of chemicals. The same weight as the three previous loads put together. The Cummins has to put in some serious effort as we tackle Interstate 40 and the Smoky Mountains in the dark and in the rain. Tonight's late finish is at London, Kentucky, where I was confident there would be a space.

British registered Old-timer spotted on the Baltimore ring-road.

____ The London Truck and Auto Plaza is one of my regular two-days-away stops. The one-day-away stop is at the Petro, Portage, Wisconsin. Then instead of going home, I go to the Flying J, on the outskirts of Winnipeg; ready for an early unloading in town and an early finish. Happily bob-tailing back to the yard with the knowledge that next weeks trip is to Long Island, New York, followed by three drops in Florida. Sadly, by the time I get home, it has all changed to eight drops in Ontario; starting at Thunder Bay. Time for a beer or two on the deck; me thinks.

View from the 1000 Islands Bridge.

CYCLE-TOURING IN BRITISH COLUMBIA MAP.

_____ This is the route I took on my BC tour. 3007 km on the bike and about 750 km on various ferries.  Part 2 of the tour comes after this post and Part 1 is after that. Blogs do things like that; so scroll down to Part 1 first and it will make  for a better read.

Cycle-touring in British Columbia. Part 2.

____Part 2.

____Day 23. After a rest day in Port Hardy; I had another rest day on the ferry to Prince Rupert. BC Ferries' Northern Expedition takes two days to do a round trip of 508 kilometres in each direction. Its a long day at sea; leaving at 07.30 and arriving at 23.30 with just one stop at Klemtu. Check-in time is 05.30 so it made for an early start; packing up a wet tent at dawn. Rain and drizzle for the whole voyage kept me inside; looking out for orcas and dolphins. My pictures of the wildlife and stunning scenery don't do the Inside Passage justice; it's an awesome trip with shear cliffs rising thousands of feet from the ocean. Cascades of fresh water dropping straight into salt water.
____It's a good ship too. Built in 2009, very modern and fresh smelling. Comfortable seats, a decent cafeteria and none of the annoying vibrations you usually find on ferries. The Inside Passage waters are very sheltered so the whole trip was on calm seas. I thought there might be a problem with an arrival time of 23.30 at Prince Rupert but the campsite was open to welcome the ferry passengers with RVs and tents. The ferry can carry 600 passengers but I doubt there were more than 100 on board.

____Day 24. Breakfast at Tim Horton's and I set off early on the Yellowhead Trail, Highway 16. It is 140 kilometres to Terrace and nothing on the map that show any services. The first 30 kilometres are hilly but then the road joins the railroad and runs alongside the broad tidal Skeena River; river of mists. But it's a dry day, tail wind and light traffic; a great day to be on a bike. My worrying about a long day in the saddle are ended at Kilometre 89; the Kaskis Resort and Hummingbird Café appear as a mirage in the desert. That will do nicely, thank you. I spend the evening chatting with an Austrian cycle-tourer who started in March at New Orleans and is en route to Alaska.

____Day 25. I had never heard of the Skeena River before my arrival at it's north bank; but it is an important and impressive salmon habitat. Natural and un-dammed; cutting deep into the interior, it provides some of the best cycling of the tour. Fifty-seven kilometres for the day brings me to the first major settlement: Terrace. A place where the local black bears come in a variety of lighter colours; Spirit Bears or Kermodae Bears. I never met one.

____Day 26. Another day riding beside the Skeena; passing the tiny church at Usk where I read about the Bible that survived the worst flood ever seen by balancing on a floating table. The visitors book is recently signed by "Tori"; a cycle-tourer going from Inuvik to Argentina. Good luck! At Kitwanga is the junction of highways 16 and 37; the Yellowhead and the Cassiar. North to Alaska I go; but only the four kilometres to the campsite. A pretty long day at 95 km.

____Day 27. Just 48 kays, half of yesterday's effort; Kitwanga to New Hazelton, both with large Native American populations and their distinctive artistic style. Hazelton also has a distinctive mountain range; proper looking peaks, rocky, sharp pointed summits. Roche de Boule is King. Seven cycle-tourers pass by while I am in the laundromat; heavily laden, I bet they are going up the Cassiar.

____Day 28. Sixty-seven kilometres down to Smithers and I am handling that sort of distance with no trouble at all. Do different from the first days of the tour. A good day with a half-way stop at Morricetown with it's powerful rapids and adjacent fish ladders. Then on to riverside municipal camping at Smithers where I find 11 cycle-tourers having a rest day. They started at Missoula in Montana and are stocking-up with supplies before tackling the Cassiar Highway as they head for a final destination of Fairbanks, Alaska.

____Day 29. I wake up to a rear flat tyre and have to mend it under the scrutiny of eleven experienced cyclists. But it's good to be able to borrow some needle nose pliers and extract the piece of wire lodged in the tyre. Then  65 km to Houston; tackling Hungry Hill on the way before checking into the Shady Rest Campsite, as recommended by Alaska's 11. A very hot day, hottest of tour so far. Then the three cycle-tourers that I met at Woss turn-up and we compare notes.   

____Day 30. As I am leaving the campsite, a woman asks if I've seen her black dog running around; I haven't. But 200 metres from the camp entrance I spot something black coming through the long grass and onto the hard shoulder. Not the dog; a black bear who quickly does a U-turn as I fumble for my camera. Soon after I meet a guy who left Tierra Del Feugo 20 months ago, he's headed for Alaska. Total respect to him and all the others out there doing similar trips. He has brought the hot weather north with him; another scorcher. Sweaty toil on the 79 kilometre ride to Burns Lake; only to find that the municipal camping ha no showers, although it is free. I book into a cheap motel, clean with a tub for soaking and only a few bucks more expensive than a Tofino campsite.

____Day 31. World Cup Final day; so find a sports bar for the lunchtime kick-off. Not so easy on the Yellowhead Trail where the next town of any size, Fraser Lake, is 71 kilometres to the east. Roadside advertising boards for the Endako Bar and Grill give me a glimmer of hope. I roll up and order a pint of shandy; three minutes after the start of play. Two customers and two staff who are making fresh homemade recipe burgers; I'll have one of those and another shandy. After extra-time it's on to Fraser Lake for camping and some clothes washing that dries well on another hot day.

____Day 32. Smoke from forest fires hangs in the air as I ride the 59 km to Vanderhoof but it is no excuse for riding into a pot-hole. A badly buckled wheel and four broken spokes; I wobble into town with the back wheel on the point of collapse. There is no local bike shop that does repairs but there is a "Source for Sports" which does have a new wheel of the correct size; even the same brand. $110 and I'm up and running within a couple of hours. The Woss Three turn up at the camping and say that I am very fortunate to sort out my problem so quickly.

____Day 33. The tent is covered with a layer of ash from the forest fires; smoke still makes it a hazy atmosphere. Over one hundred kilometres to Prince George on another day in this heat wave along a much busier Highway16. A long descent down to the Fraser River; I don't actually go into the town centre but swing round the south side which leads to Highway 97 and several campsites.

____Day 34. Smokier and hotter than ever; the long haul out of Fraser River valley is a hard start to a long day. But there is a good smooth hard shoulder on a road they call the Cariboo. I stop for a rest at Cinema, a tiny village so named because a Hollywood movie mogul bought land in the area with the intention of using the location for making films. The old general store is still operating with most of the income coming from the sale of soft ice cream and fireworks. Vic, the owner, is sitting in the shade after fixing-up a canopy for a dance floor. He organises a country music festival for the village. I join him with an ice tea and ice cream. We sit and watch the world go by, three hours; waiting for heat to subside so we can both get back to work. Then it's onto Quesnel, which I now know is pronounced "Quennell." A day of 121 kilometres; split by a long break and some good company.

____Day 35. Just 74 kilometres today, following the Fraser Valley; but not near the river and not on any flat land. Still hot and still thick smoke in the air. Alexandria is today's spot for a pot of tea and siesta. McLeese Lake is the overnight stop; where I find five Italian registered BMWs. By the collection of stickers that they are sporting; they are on a world tour. On there way down from Alaska, it must be a bit deflating to see so many people are doing the trip on push-bikes. Bet they don't mention that when they get home.

____Day 36. Forty-four clicks, all in the rain; after I had sat and ate breakfast while it was still dry. The Italians all give me a wave when the come past; good lads. The environment certainly needs the downpour as forest fires have been raging out of control for well over a week. Maybe this will slow down their spread if it doesn't put them out. After checking-out my options at the very smart Williams Lake Tourist Information Office, I settle for an early finish in the hotel next door.

____Day 37. Ninety kilometres to 100 Mile House; the strange-named town that is a hundred miles north of Lillooet, the start of the Cariboo Gold Rush Trail. A day of dodging showers, the heaviest at Lac la Hache; before finding that the cheap municipal campsite was crap. Only suited to RVs and then, only the ones with self-leveling equipment. Another night in a cheap motel; but those soaks in the tub are sure doing me good.

____Day 38. Clinton used to be 43 Mile House; I'm counting down so must be going in the right direction. A hilly section of road with a good shoulder; cycle-tourers own the shoulder. Rolling hills rather than mountains; woodland with ranches. Hay-making in progress everywhere. Seventy-five kilometres for the day.

____Day 39. Mostly downhill to a busy Cache Creek; where the competition between the many motels forces prices down to a very reasonable level. But its only halfway in my 91 kilometre day. I climb the long drag out of Cache Creek before dropping down to run alongside the Thompson River. Back in amongst the mountains again and the dry desert-like sheltered valley. Free apricots, straight from the tree, at the Spences Bridge Camping; run by English couple, Roy and Sarah.

____Day 40. For the first time on the trip, I wake up feeling unwell; headache and nausea. It takes an age as I plod around, packing up in four times the normal time. Eventually I make it down to the "Packing House," the local café in a town that more than its fair share of boarded-up enterprises. Coffee and French toast put me right for a short ride beside the Thompson before it joins the Fraser River at Lytton.

____Day 41. With just 108 kilometres left to complete the circle; I go for it. Feeling much better, I get to Boston Bar before the heavens open. This should put out the forest fires and give the helicopter pilots a break from their dousing activities. It's raining hard as I stop for a quick look at Hells Gate, the famous rapids on the Fraser River. I don't know why people think they have the right to charge money in order to let the general public see natural attractions. They didn't make the narrow gorge that makes the waters boil, so why do they think they have the right to own it. It is still pouring at Hope and the wind is now blowing hard. The Red Roof Motel is the first one I come to; straight in.

____Summary. 3007 kilometres ridden in just under six weeks and not a bad moment during the whole trip. Awesome hospitality from everyone I had dealings with. Some problems with the bike and some problems with the physical condition of the rider but I feel a whole lot fitter and lighter. Thank you British Columbia for everything.