Missing a Gear: Pulling the Hills of Western PA

So I got assigned new truck the other day. Sort of a good news/bad news sort of thing: good news is that it’s a 2016, 11 months old, 126k on it, and it’s only had one driver assigned to it before me. Bad news is that it’s an auto. Which I guess isn’t necessarily bad news, but all things being equal, I’d prefer a manual. But the previous driver kept it spotless, everything works (my old truck was great, but had a few things: driver’s seat had some issues & didn’t lock in place right, broken arm rest, broken window fan in the bunk… little stuff that wasn’t worth messing with), and boy does it ride nice. Which reminds me of a story…

The week of Easter, I had started my week off working during the day, but on three of my first four days out, I had to wait about five hours for a load, which pushed my 14-hour clock back to where I was running nights. I try not to let this happen, partly because it’s a waste of time to be sitting and waiting, and partly because switching back and forth between day and night loads screws everything up – my body clock, my home time – but that’s another post. Anyway, I was still slip-seating, and I wound up in a pretty nice auto for a couple of days, and on my last day before heading home, I had taken a drop-and-hook load down to West Virginia and shut down around 5:00am. When I woke up, I had my next assignment. It was a great load – back down to West Virginia, but almost entirely interstate, a lot of miles, and paid well. It would take about 12 hours, which was perfect. Except for one thing. I was at least two hours away from the distribution center to even get started, and if I didn’t finish within my 14 hours, I’d have to take a 10-hour break into my day off before I could get back and go home. This would be very, very close – if I could even make it at all.

So, I made my plan and thought through everything as best I could before I went on duty and started my 14-hour clock, trying to anticipate anything and everything that might gain me a few minutes, or set me back a few minutes. Then I was off. Full speed up the interstate back to Wintersville (keeping in mind that this is Schneider; when I say, “full speed,” “pedal to the metal,” “roaring up the freeway,” what I mean is, “I just got passed by a J.B Hunt truck going 62”). Picked up the new load, and took off into my 12-hour trip.

The one thing – besides the truck governed at 60 – that I needed to go well but didn’t have any control over were my three stores. I needed them to unload me fast, and that doesn’t always happen. It can be pretty hit or miss with that, and it was unlikely that all three would be fast. But on this night, they were – probably faster than any load I’ve done before or since. And when I’d hit the last stop and started into the home stretch, I roared (again: “roared” = “driving like granny at 60 in a 70”) up I-79 with Van Halen blasting on the stereo. I even had time for the fuel stop at Pilot, the one off exit 146 with the lousy road that goes straight up that steep hill to get in. And I got a box of Cinnabons for the kids, since by now I knew I’d make it home that morning.

It is the only time I’ve been in danger of running out my 11-hour drive time clock before my 14-hour on-duty clock. I know that’s not a big deal for OTR drivers, but on this account, we make so many stops and multiple loads that the 11-hour clock almost never comes into play. But on this trip, it did. It was a great night.

So on the road with my first load this past Saturday morning, I saw a message pop into the Qualcomm. A few minutes later, a second message popped in. Now, in my old truck, when a message comes in, the first line show up in the message center on the dashboard. It’s only the first few words, and you can’t scroll through any more than that, but sometimes it’s enough to let you know what the message is about. This time, however, it was unhelpful. As it turned out, the first message was from my DBL asking me to call him about a truck; the second was to give me some details about the new truck (“This is a very nice truck, only 11 months old,” etc.). But what I saw on the dash was this:

First message: “Call me…” Hmmm, I thought. I wonder what’s going on?

Then a few minutes later, the second message: “You are being ###…”

Now I was a bit concerned, and needless to say, a new truck was pretty far from my mind as to what this was all about…! (And why is my DBL being such a jerk?) When I got to my first stop, I pulled up the messages and felt a sense of surprise and, frankly, relief: “You are being ###…” turned out to be, “You are being ###-igned a new truck…”

I’m not sure why I was assigned this truck after only having my first “keep” truck for a month or so. I suspect that because it’s an auto, some of the experienced guys turned it down to stick with a manual. That probably left management asking themselves, “Well, who hasn’t hit anything yet?” And eventually they said, “I guess this guy will have to do…” But whatever. In total, I’ve spent well over a year driving manuals, and I’m no longer worried about having trouble shifting if I ever go back to one (I once turned down an auto because I’d only been driving for a couple months and wanted more time with a manual- and spent the next few months in one of the dirtiest trucks I've ever driven. It was number 6665; one of the Cubans who worked at that company - this was South Florida, and probably half the drivers were Spanish-speaking Cuban immigrants; hard-working, good guys, btw- used to yell at me when I'd pass, "You have the devil truck!").

So what does my West Virginia story have to do with the new truck? Well, when I opened the door to move in that night, I immediately realized that I’d driven this truck before: the previous driver was into colored rugs. I mean, seriously into colored rugs. He had left them all behind. I had fond memories of that mad run to West Virginia, using up all my hours and still getting home, surrounded by brightly colored rugs in that comfy, smooth-riding truck.

And now I would take who knows how many more runs in that same truck.

 

When I took the CDL refresher course back in December, I got the schedule of company recruiters who regularly came in to give presentations and sat in on some of them. The Schneider recruiter said that the company was in the process of turning their fleet over to all autos. He also claimed that these new autos aren’t like the first generation from a decade ago, and that most of the drivers who had gotten them said they’d never go back to a manual. I didn’t believe him.

There are still plenty of drivers who want to stay in a manual as long as possible, but I also don’t hear many complaints about the autos. None, really. What made the difference for me, when I was assigned one last week, is that I’d already spent some time in them – and discovered that they’re a lot better than I expected. I knew that if I stayed with Schneider long enough, I’d eventually get forced into one anyway, but I also realized – to my surprise – that it really wouldn’t bother me. Also keeping in mind that in my case, I no longer feel like I need more experience with a manual – at this point, I’ve driven 10-speeds, 12-speeds, and 6-speeds (same as 12 without the hi/lo selector), and I doubt I’d have any trouble getting back into one.

Sure, I’d still prefer a manual. If I had a choice (I’ve heard rumors of a Schneider program with choices…), I think I’d actually like a 13-speed – so often in the 10, it feels like the upper gear choices are either slightly too high or slightly too low; it’d be great to have those “half” gears in between (I think the 12-speed autos are a little better with this). But I’m basically just a company steering wheel holder, so I drive what they give me. And if they want to give me something pretty nice, well, I'm sure not gonna complain about it!