The Great American Road Trip

One of the hardest things about writing this blog is the variety of places I go but only for a short time. How do I sit down and talk about Times Square in five hundred to a thousand words when pictures can’t even do such an amazing place justice? Do people want to really know about me sleeping upright on a Manhattan park bench because I missed my flight and got stuck taking a bus home from the city that never sleeps? How do people feel about hearing about pure exhaustion and pushing through as hard as you can to the point of delirium and finally falling asleep on an airplane with less than a graceful rumble of snoring? Yeah. That crap all happens. So instead of talking about a place, I think I am going to talk about my job for a little bit and tell people exactly what I do.

 

I drive. I drive a lot. I drive box delivery trucks from the builder (actually a terminal about thirty miles from where they are built) to the (mostly) end user. My normal run consists of me waking up, driving an hour to my job, then talking with the people in the office for a few minutes. After that is all done, I go to the truck assigned to me and throw some license plates on, placards (the thing that has the company I contract for’s DOT number) in the windows, and check under the hood to make sure all the fluids are where they should be and the caps are all tight, then I inspect the tuck for physical damage. After all that, I go to a gas station and fill it up. This all takes about thirty minutes or so. Now the real fun starts. I punch in my GPS where I am going and…I’m off.

 

We are required to follow the same DOT regulations as truck drivers; no more than eleven hours of actual drive time, fourteen hours of on-duty time (which includes breaks, fuel, and other reasons to stop and do things), and a thirty-minute break within any eight-hour stint. Oh yeah, we also have to log all of this stuff as we do it on our phones or tablets. After the first week, none of this stuff is even a question; you just do it automatically. Where do the problems come in? Each driver has different flaws. I hate bad weather and mountains, but I excel at city driving. Fog mesmerizes me. After a couple hours of foggy driving, I am ready for bed. That bed is rather uncomfortable at times since it’s just a hammock slung from the support posts in the truck. It’s seldom a comfortable temperature to sleep in with either being too hot or too cold. Several cold nights I slept up front with a blanket wrapped around me, the heat on, while seated upright in the driver’s seat. The DOT also requires ten hours of continuous off-time daily, so under rather adverse conditions, you just want to get on them road in hopes of getting somewhere warmer or cooler just to get more comfortable. Exhaustion becomes a constant. Urine is the body’s natural radiator. When I get to a truck stop, I go relieve myself before I go to sleep. On cold nights, almost exactly two hours after I fall asleep, I have to take a leak and I’m not talking where you wake up and think, “I may need to pee soon,” but the type of urgency that you consider not wearing your shoes to run back inside to go. Sometimes behind that snow bank looks a lot closer than inside the truck stop. After that, I’m good for the next eight hours if I want without needing to go at all. I assume it’s just caused by the body cooling as heat escapes and you really don’t need it anymore. There are also places that get down to ninety degrees at night so you lay there sweating, miserable, and wide awake like some kind of hotbox punishment in a backwoods state prison. I could get a motel room, but that’s money that’s not staying in my pocket then and I’d rather spend the money I earn at home.

 

After that lack of sleep, you drive another seven hundred and some odd miles just to repeat the night before. Then after that is one more night just like the last two. Day four hits and you work a few hours more only and you are delivered. Now it’s time to go home.

 

I hate buses-I hate them with a passion. My personal preference for comfort is Amtrak, but from California, its a fifty hour ride (including layovers and transfers to other trains) to Chicago, so it’s inefficient. The train from New York City or from D.C. isn’t bad because you get enough sleep that you can do the next run, but flying is your best option. You get home in a reasonable time and sleep in your own bed while coworkers are sleeping upright on the Amtrak or Greyhound. Either way, we Uber out of wherever we dropped off the truck and go to the airport or station of departure. Sometimes the Uber costs more so instead of spending thirty dollars on an Uber, we will spend five dollars and just have them take us to some public city transportation option. This sucks! Ever ride a city bus with a big suitcase full of everything you need for four days? This country boy didn’t till he started this job. Remember, where I live in Northwest Indiana has a way different climate than Southern California or Southern Florida, so you have a big winter coat with you and shorts for when you get to where you need them. So you have to get to the airport two hours early to go through security and now your bored because sometimes you get through rather quickly. You haven’t slept well for days and now you’re at the airport. Finally you get on your flight and before you take off, you are in dreamland then you land. At least five different times, I woke up upon landing…by smacking my face into the seat in front of me when the plane hit its brakes. Those were not among my proudest moments. Now that I am back in Chicago I take the Blue Line from O’Hare up to Millennium Station where I now wait on the South Shore to take me to Michigan City, Indiana and then my friend usually gives me a ride to Elkhart, Indiana where my car is or just to my house one town over and I deal with getting my car the next day after I sleep some fourteen hours.

 

You know you’re tired when you can fall asleep on a New York City subway or on a bench in Los Angelas’ Chinatown. After a while you get used to the fatigue—somewhat.

 

A friend of mine asked me a few months ago if I mean what I said in the piece I did titled No Regrets or if it was just a bunch of bullshit and he asked me why I haven’t written anything in a long time. The answers are: Yes, I meant every word of that piece and I still love what I do and because I’m always tired. To the latter, I will try to write more often and to the former, I see something new every run I’m on to fall in love with again. This job has made me appreciate America and what it means to be an American in a way I never thought was possible. Anyone that knows me knows that my startups are my passion in life, but this is a good way for me to see the country I love and discover new things and live new life experiences. As I travel, my goal is one new experience per trip and I have been successful. Some of the experiences are poverty to comfort to relaxation, to great food or drinks in a place I’d never imagine going in to.

 

I get paid to do what I do at two in the morning when I can’t sleep because something is on my mind. Driving clears my head and I do it constantly and it’s become an addition. Another friend asked about vacation and I had to explain to her that it’s not about going somewhere and stopping, I am addicted to the constant moving and as much as I loved it when I wrote my first piece, I love it more now. Even bad days don’t suck that bad. This job isn’t for everyone, but I go vagabonding every week, sometimes three and four times a week. The people I meet along the way and the experiences I have had in the last eight months are cumulatively the most valuable I have had in my entire life.

 

Thank you for reading this piece from Michael Beebe. For more about Michael, please visit TheMichaelBeebe.com or VagabondingAmerica.com.