Missing a Gear: Pulling the Hills of Western PA

Well, it’s another Schneider thread about starting with the Mighty Pumpkin. There’s already a lot of these out there, making me hesitant about starting yet another one – and of course, what could I possibly offer as a newer driver that hasn’t already been said? But there’s a few reasons that convinced me:

First, there are already small incidents and short stories about what I’m doing that I’d like to remember, and even if my experience is the same as everyone else, this is for me to jot some things down and keep track of all I’m doing.

Second, even with all the info already on these threads, there wasn’t always exactly what I was looking for, and I’ve really enjoyed the others who have taken time to post their experiences. I’ve learned a ton from those threads, and maybe a few (or at least one or two!) will find my own experience helpful.

Finally, I’ve seen some posters mention that people come to these forums to get information so they can get started on their own, but then don’t give back once they’re out there. To be fair, this was in the context of IC’s, but I think it maybe applies here as well. I continue to enjoy others’ stories and info, and so at least in a small way it only seems fair to give back a bit as well.

A bit about me: I’m 42 years old, and relatively new to trucking, though not completely. I’ve held a CDL for over a decade, driving for a year pulling a dry bulk tank all over Florida before moving to Western Pennsylvania. When we left Florida, I kept my CDL, but didn’t at all expect to use it again. Oddly, I remember mentioning to my wife back then that, “Florida is terrible for freight. If we lived in Ohio or Pennsylvania, there would be a lot more opportunities.” We didn’t leave Florida for a trucking job, but here it is nearly ten years later, I’m driving again, and we happen to be living in PA, pulling loads out of Ohio. Who knew?

Oh, and I went with Schneider for a couple of reasons: First, they had opportunities that would work well for me (more than any other company I looked at), and second, even though I’ve been out of a truck long enough to be considered a new driver all over again, they took me with a refresher course and their three week program of orientation and training. I was not up for going out with a trainer for 4-6 weeks (or more) and making training pay. So far, I've been impressed with Orange. Certainly they're not perfect (what company is?), but my orientation and training with them has been head and shoulders above my previous companies - and while my previous job wasn't necessarily all that great, they were very good to me, and I'm still thankful to have worked there.

So that’s it for the moment. Waiting on a load right now that’s assigned but not ready yet. I’ll update as I have time. Thanks to all in the Schneider forum who contribute regularly and have unknowingly helped me out already!

 

After a week of orientation, training and testing in Carlisle, a week out on the account I’d be running with a TE (Training Engineer), and a third week back in Carlisle for final training and testing (I’ll probably say a few things about that experience later), I was finally ready to go! But when I reported for work that Monday, I discovered that I’d be sent out for a few more days with a “mentor” before being released on my own. I was a bit disappointed, but the driver I was placed with is a great guy, and they paid me a daily rate for it, so it wasn’t bad at all. I decided the best thing to do was get in the driver’s seat and do everything as though I was already on my own and let the mentor ride along in the passenger seat. Plus, he had home time after three days, so he just assigned his truck to me before he left for me to finish my week.

First load out for a short run, driving the same truck I’d been in all week, I headed out! A few miles down the road I took an exit and turned north – and all hell broke loose. Engine lights came on and the truck lost a lot of power. Since it was a short load, I limped it to my delivery, then called in to make sure it was okay to keep driving (I had one more stop on the way back) and drop it at the shop when I returned. My DBL gave the okay, I hung up, turned the key, and… nothing. The engine cranked, but wouldn’t start up. I called back and talked to the DBL again (“Didn’t I just talk to you?” He asked), then waited for another truck to relay the rest of the load and a tow to get me and the truck back to the operating center. Not how I envisioned my first load to go!

But when I got back, red-faced (seriously – a couple guys mentioned that I looked about to explode) from the bitter cold and wind followed by the full-on heat of the tow truck (“You might want to take your coat off,” the tow guy casually mentioned before he transformed the cab into a raging inferno), I still had plenty of time left on my 14-hour clock, so got assigned a different truck and a new load headed to Cleveland for a next-day delivery. I only wish that when I called the Walmart where I was headed to make sure it was okay to park overnight (not really, but the security company said okay since I was delivering the next day, so long as I parked out of sight behind the store), that I had also asked whether they were open 24-hours. Isn’t every Walmart open 24-7? Apparently not. Thus I came to find myself staring through a locked glass door into a darkened store, toothbrush in hand, shortly after midnight. Oh, well. Off to bed.

 

Took a load down to West Virginia last week, and while the last couple of blocks looked tricky when I ran the directions and checked the satellite view, it didn’t really prepare me for when I got there. After dark. In the rain. It was a right turn off the state road onto a narrow side street, followed by an almost immediate second right turn – practically a u-turn around a building. So of course in the dark and rain I realized too late what I was getting into. I swung out as much as I could with the little space I had left, aiming the tractor into the left turn lane of the side street, with cars waiting on the stoplight. I wound up nose-to-nose with a minivan, who started to back up and make space, but was boxed in by the car behind her. I came to a stop. Other cars began to back up, making room as well. The car behind the minivan stayed put. The minivan driver – a woman with her kid – got out in the rain, waved at me and then waved at the car behind her to move. Nothing. She waved at me again, walked back to the second car and exchanged a few words. The second car backed up. Exactly two feet. Minivan Mom got out again – still raining – and walked back again. This went on a couple more times before the second car backed up enough for the minivan to also back up so I could squeeze by. In the meantime, I had time to set the brakes and get a good look out the passenger window at the curb – and building – that I couldn’t see and was pretty sure I was going to hit. But no. Trailer tandems brushed the curb, but didn’t run over the sidewalk. I’d actually made the corner. Not a total victory, though. As I finally squeezed by and headed for the second turn, the second car – the one who had refused to move until Minivan Mom stood in the rain waving at her – rolled down her window to shout a string of obscenities, insulting my mother and my manhood before ending with what she thought of my skills as a driver.

When I finally pulled into the delivery, I passed another driver on his way out. So I waved him down and asked, “Hey – is there another way out of here?”

“Nope. Only one way in; one way out,” he answered.

“I only ask because that was a nasty right turn back there.”

“You run over the curb?” he asked.

“Not quite,” I said.

“Well, even if you had, you wouldn’t be the first, and you sure as hell won’t be the last. You have to buttonhook – take both lanes, and even the left turn lane if you can get it, before you make the turn.” And then he added, “When you come down here during the day, slow down and take a look at the corner of the building – drivers have not only run over the curb, but they’ve banged up the building.”

“So I have to go out the same way?”

“Out is easy. All left turns!” He said as he drove off.

He was right. Leaving was a breeze. And as I made the left turn – out of the lane where Minivan Mom and the Cursing Woman had sat earlier – back onto the state road, I slowed just a bit to look at the corner of the building. Even in the dark, the beat up and broken brick was visible.

 

So I drove an automatic for a couple of days this week – actually two of them. One of the downsides of starting out here is that it takes a while to get assigned a permanent truck – a “keep” truck - so I’ll be slip-seating until then. I was told by a recruiter that it takes about three months, but most drivers seem to get one assigned sooner, and the mentor I was with my first few days said he was assigned one after only two days. The good news is that my DBL tries to find one that’s free for the full six days I’m out, so at least I don’t have to move in and out of trucks all week.

Anyway, when I came in this week, he found one for the week and then asked, “Have you driven an automatic?” When I said no, he said it wasn’t difficult and they’d just get me trained on it. Training involved watching a couple of short videos, and then an OSR going out to the yard with me to pick up my loaded trailer and walk through everything. My DBL was right – it’s not difficult. But it is somewhat different that an automatic car, so it helped to walk through it before I took off.

I’ve never really liked the idea of an automatic, and when I was assigned one years ago at my previous job, I gave it back for an older manual. But the current generation is leaps ahead of where they were a decade ago, and I found that I actually enjoyed it. The first day went great, until I came back in that night. I had driven the last 20 miles or so with a jangling noise that I couldn’t figure out – it sounded like I was dragging tin cans behind me. I finally decided it was something in the refrigerator unit on the trailer, and looked all over when I dropped it but couldn’t find anything. Then I started bobtailing across the yard to park for the night and it started up again. This time I looked all over – and under – the tractor, where I found a piece of cast-iron metal being dragged along from a cable. I took it to the shop where the mechanic took a look and said, “Park it. You’re out of service.” One of the two brackets holding an air tank had broken, and he said the second looked stressed and was about to break as well. An easy fix, but they would have to order parts, which would take a day or two. Also said that those brackets have been a problem on some of the newer trucks.

So I thought that was it. I went to sleep and went back back to the office the next morning for a new truck, which I was sure would not be as nice. My DBL found one and said on my way out, “Be careful with it,” which didn’t make sense until I saw it – another auto, with only 9000 miles on it! Practically brand new. Its driver was at home, so I had it for at least a day. I ended up with a longer run and a backhaul that put me at Schneider’s Obetz terminal for the night. And as much as I hate to admit it, the auto was pretty nice. I didn’t think I’d like it, but I could really get used to it.

But again, it didn’t last. I awoke the next morning with a message on the Qualcomm: “We need to swap trucks.” I guess the driver wanted his truck back. So much for not moving in and out of trucks all week. I’m now in my third one in four days. And this one is back to a manual. But guess what? As much as I enjoyed the auto, it was really nice to get back in a 10-speed today. And given a choice, I’d still take it over the auto.

 

A few more thoughts on the automatic. It’s not quite as simple as a car, and technically it’s not an automatic transmission, but an “automated” transmission with a computer-controlled clutch. Overall, it drove pretty smooth; certainly smoother than I sometimes shift! I can see why drivers (some, anyway) like them: in heavy traffic or even on hilly roads requiring a lot of shifting, the auto really makes driving less tiring. In narrow places, it’s nice to be able to focus solely on maneuvering, without having to also keep track of gearing. And I should add this: the gps-enabled cruise control, in which the computer anticipates an upcoming hill and lets the speed go up a bit, or lets off the fuel as the truck crests a hill – in other words, determining gearing and acceleration based on knowledge of the upcoming terrain – is pretty cool. There were definitely times that it was nice to just ride along and let the computer do all the work.

On the other hand, I didn’t like the feeling of not being in control. What I mean is that the acceleration was sometimes slower than I would have shifted myself, and there were times that the computer didn’t seem quite sure of which gear to choose. But the biggest issue was that I felt like I was using the brakes a lot more, instead of gearing down. With the transmission automated (and even the engine brakes controlled by computer), the brakes are really the only control I had left. This isn’t totally true, because you can still manually shift if necessary – and I did – but the feeling of having to stand on the brakes to slow down is still there. I know it’s just a difference in how an auto works versus a manual, but I didn’t like it.

That said, it wasn’t bad at all, and knowing that Schneider is in the process of changing over to all autos, I’ll eventually get used to it (that is, if I’m still around in the next 2-3 years that it will take). But when I got back into a manual, I felt a lot more comfortable, and I think I’ll always prefer doing the shifting myself.

 

Well, this has not been fun. Reached my last stop today and smelled something burning when I got out of the truck after backing into the dock. Turned out it was coming from the left steer – the wheel was too hot to touch, and the whole thing emanated heat like I was standing next to a radiator. As near as I can guess (and guessing is about as good as it gets, given how little I know), the brake is at least partially engaged and just heating up when the truck is moving. Oddly, I can’t tell any difference in driving – everything handles fine, and the truck isn’t pulling to that side. So I called SEM – Schneider Emergency Maintenance – and they said someone would get back to me in 30-45 minutes. That was over two hours ago. Called them back, and now I’m on hold.

The good news (I guess?) is that I was thinking it unlikely that I’d get another run tonight and was expecting that I might be done early. Since I’m stuck here for who knows how long, I found a pizza place across the street. Pretty good, and would not have happened if I’d gone straight back to the distribution center for the night. So there’s that.

The hold soundtrack is now playing John Hiatt – “Memphis in the Meantime.” And I wait.

 

Just shows how little I know. The problem wasn’t the brake at all, but a bad hub. When a mechanic finally showed up, he discovered that the hub was completely dry, and filled with what looked like debris from the chewed-up bearings. As near as he could tell, this had been going on for a while, given that there was no evidence of the hub leaking. I wondered whether I should have caught this sooner (probably), but also not sure it would have mattered. CDL training teaches you to check the hubs for any leaking oil, but there wasn’t any in this case (roadside mechanic was perplexed by this). I had stopped by the shop the night before to have them read a check engine code, which turned out to be caused by the hub, but it didn’t tell them what was going on, either. Here’s why: as the hub went bad, it started to “skip” on the ABS sensor, which caused the ABS light to kick on, which in turn messed with the predictive cruise, causing it to go out every so often, and a couple of times tripping the engine light, which is why I stopped by the shop. But the code that came up wasn’t conclusive – the mechanic said it was related to the predictive cruise, but was frustrated that it wasn’t clear as to the specific problem. But it didn’t appear anything serious, so we left it at that. Plus, the day I stopped at the shop was the first day I had the truck, since I’m still slip-seating. So I had no way to know whether the indicators I was getting were new, or had been going on for a while – the mechanic sent out by SEM believed the problem had been building for some time. (As a side note, it definitely makes more sense to be assigned a regular truck whenever possible – drivers are more likely to be on top of any maintenance issues that come up. But don’t take that as a complaint, just an observation – I’m still new and will be assigned a truck soon enough.) But none of this really matters. Lesson learned: I am now checking not just for leaks on the hubs, but also taking a closer look at the oil level when I do my pre-trip inspections.

In the end, the whole thing earned me a tow back to Wintersville. It started with a phone call to SEM around 6:00pm Saturday night, and I arrived back at the shop at 5:00am the next morning with the tow guy. I (finally) went to sleep, and the hub had been rebuilt by the time I woke up. But by then I was in a different truck – the one with the new hub had its assigned driver coming back in – and headed out again on a new run.

 

Came back from a load one night last week and discovered a headlight out as I was doing my final walkaround, so I bobtailed over to the shop and asked for a new bulb.
“Sure thing,” the mechanic said. “You know how to change it?”
“Uh… maybe?” I answered. “We’re talking about a light bulb, right?”
He laughed. “I’ll come out and show you.”
The lamp does change pretty much like a light bulb, but the part he wanted to show me was to be careful not to touch the bulb itself – if halogen bulbs get anything on them, like dirt or even oil from your skin, they’ll burn out much quicker. This I actually knew from some halogen lamps I used to have at home – back before their high heat deemed them a fire hazard and you can’t buy them anymore. Anyway, he also shared a useful bit of information: “Remember that the high and low beam bulbs are interchangeable, so if you find yourself out on the road and your headlight goes out, you can swap it with the high beam so you don’t get stopped for a DOT violation until you can get back here to have it replaced.”

Good to know.