Driving to New York City (part 1)

READY TO ROLL

I have been preparing for my move to New York City for some time. Most people I know seemed to think I was pretty calm about the whole thing. In fact, whenever people would ask me if I was nervous about moving to New York City, I would always say that I was more afraid of the journey than anything else. Twenty three hours of driving a rented truck to New York City was more intimidating to me than moving to the Big Apple. After all I have lived in Miami, London, Hamburg, Amsterdam and Las Vegas, but I had never driven a big truck nor driven for such a long time on my own. After that, living in New York City seemed like a piece of cake.

I planned to pick up the truck on Monday but things were delayed a bit by problems getting the right sized truck (see blog entries from last week) and my travel buddy had to back out, so I knew that I had to make the long trip solo and in just two days. I decided the night before that I would leave at about 3am. I figured I could drive 14 hours the first day and 8 hours the next day. Seemed pretty reasonable especially considering the second day would be in the Northeast – a part of the country that I have never driven in but I knew would be challenging.

I asked my downstairs neighbor, who rises at 2 to work at 3, to bang on the ceiling when he got up. I also asked another friend, who goes out to the bars every night to call me at closing time to further assure I would wake up on time. Both came through and by 2:45am I (and the cat which confused as to what was going on) was ready to go. As it turned out most of my other neighbors were still up and my friend from the bars came over so I had a nice send off and was on the interstate right on time – 3am.

I figured the adrenaline from driving a big truck for the first time would carry me for the first few hours. It lasted until about 4:30. Actually this leg of the trip was the most difficult. I am not used to getting up at 2am and have never particularly enjoyed driving at night. I had an energy drink but was going to wait until sunrise to get a coffee. All I had to do was make it for the first three hours, circle around Jacksonville avoiding the morning rush hour, then “restart” my mind and body for the rest of the day with coffee and sunshine.


A HAIRY START

As hard as it was for me to get used to the driving my rig (that’s trucker talk) during the early hours it was even more difficult for my cat. She meowed and whined - loudly and repeatedly. She tried to crawl under the gas pedal and walk on the dashboard, both of which resulted in her being “forcibly relocated” by me. Finally she crawled in my lap and nuzzled into me like she never had before. Together we drove into the darkness.

Finally, the sun rose sometime after 6. I had made it past Jacksonville and found a Burger King to get some coffee and a bite to eat. Although I had been on the road for less than four hours I already felt weary. When I walked into the BK the staff looked at me strangely. While this happens anyway sometimes, it still stuck me as a bit odd. I went to the counter, ordered my coffee and biscuit, and walked to the bathroom. Only then did I understand why I was viewed with such bewilderment by the staff. I had left Tallahassee with a green shirt and blue jeans but arrived at the Burger King covered in white fur. My cat’s! This feline sheds a lot anyway, but the anxiety of the trip must have hastened the process and her laying on me for 3 hours resulted in me being completely blanketed by millions of white hairs. It was a sight to behold and certainly explained the sarcastic smirks on the staff of this fast food restaurant. God only know what they thought I had been doing in my truck to get so much fur on my lap and shirt.

I brushed myself off, ate the biscuit and sipped my coffee. I was off again and feeling pretty good. The most difficult 4 hours were behind me. I made it through the middle of the night and had come quite comfortable with the truck. The coffee kicked in, as hoped, and now that the sun was up, I felt more awake and alert than I had so far. I was on my way. I was a seasoned trucker! I curved the bill of my hat, gave knowing waves to my fellow truckers even considered buying chewing tobacco and listening to country music. I felt like I belonged. I even made a little bed on the floorboard of the passenger side for my now balding cat.


RELIEF

On long drives there are many things you have to deal with, like finding a place to go to the bathroom. There are rest stops, usually about 45 minutes apart. There is always an internal debate weighing the loss of time and the ability to “hold it” a bit long. But now that I was a seasoned trucker I figured my bladder could hold out. Unfortunately, not all my fellow travelers on the road could do the same.

From time to time I saw cars and truck parked along the side of the road. In the early morning hours semis were lined up by the dozen as truckers slept. During the day however, those parked along the side of the road usually did so to find some relief. During the trip I saw people standing in the bushes or by a tree and even one guy who just stood next to his car peeing, moving as traffic passed, trying to keep just the right angle to avoid being seen by passing vehicles. The one incident though, that I will not be able to forget (unfortunately) was that of a 300+ pound trucker who was just returning to his rig after relieving himself in the bushes. From a distance I saw him walking back to his truck checking his zipper. He should have checked his belt. Just as I was approaching, he was climbing the steps up into his 18 wheeler when his pants dropped. I’m not talking a “butt crack” drop. I’m talking about a full moon, stars and galaxy pant drop! For moment he was actually stuck, trying to maneuver into his cabin while his pants hung around his ankles. Not only was I mortified at seeing the hugest ass in the world, but actually feared he would fall backwards into the roadway. Finally, at the last possible moment, he balanced himself enough to slide his bare buttocks into the seat and slam the door shut. I felt fortunate not to have lost control of my truck but did feel kind of nauseated after witnessing this moon shot on Interstate 95.


SIZE MATTERS

Later I pulled into a rest stop for another coffee and to freshen up a bit. On the interstate they divide the parking into two areas; cars and trucks. By this point I had not only mastered driving my 10 foot truck, but even managed to relate to my fellow truckers. When semis wanted to pass, I clicked my high beams and they clicked back. When cars drove too slow, we truckers would give each other knowing glances of superiority as we helped each other get around them. So when I drove to the truck area and parked, I exited my vehicle with the self assuredness of an experience roadster. I nodded to the other truckers in the area but was surprised to get mostly eye rolls and head shakes. Huh? Was there more hair on my shirt? Had my pants fallen down? Was there someone else with a Budget rental truck ruining my reputation? Oh well it didn’t matter, I swaggered to the rest area and went inside. When I came back out and walked to the trucker’s parking lot I figured out what was wrong.

Yes, compared to the tiny Ford Aspire I drove in Florida, my truck was massive. But looking at it now, parked next to all the 18 wheelers it looked absolutely tiny! In fact, it hardly looked like a truck at all. Next to all those other REAL trucks, my vehicle was a joke. When I wheeled into the extra long parking space I felt grateful to have the needed room for my oversized vehicle. But as I approached it now it looked like a Tonka toy, and I looked like a complete jackass. I meekly climbed into the cab of my (now) mini truck, holding my pants up but keeping my head low. I looked to the cat for reassurance but she just snarled and rolled her own eyes before going back to sleep. I promised myself next time to park next a Volkswagen bug.