# Wind, Bugs and Diesel Fumes.



## Wolfeyes (Nov 12, 2009)

I figured it's about time I told the story of my first(and so far only) long trip. Keep in mind I was incredibly stupid, impatient, selfish and oh yeah, did I mention STUPID when I did this.

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I was all set up to take a trip up to Cincy to visit a friend of mine. His dad drives big rigs and was passing through my area so I figured it would be a perfect opportunity to catch a ride.

Got a hold of him as he was on shut down on 75 just north of Valdosta and he said he was running a load of fiberglass insulation down to Miami and could pick me up in Wildwood on the rebound. Great. He said it would be another three or four days before he was back in that area, which gave me plenty of time to pack my shit and hump on out there.

Flash forward. My trip to Wildwood was uneventful at best, mind-numbingly dull at worst. Took me three days (it's about 60 Miles the way I went, avoiding the interstate) leaving at 7 am Tuesday and arriving at the T/A at around 9 pm Thursday.

I was cold and dead tired, so I sneaked into the "Drivers Only" area to grab a cup of liquid meth(truck stop coffee) and a comfy chair. Some rent-a-cop spotted me and asked me to show him my CDL. Obviously I didn't have one so he told me to leave and that I had to pay $5 for the cup of coffee that I had been sipping or face shoplifting charges. I knew this was BS, but I didn't want any trouble(I was too tired to argue) so I grab my bag and get up to leave. Right then and there a driver walks out of the can, see's me and this plastic po-po talking and comes to my rescue.

He tells the guard that I was traveling with him, working as a lumper. He let's me stay, but not before this arrogant SOB delivers your typical "I'll be watching you!" parting shot  I thank the driver and we sit down and start talking. He had some interesting stories(including one about a one-eyed lot lizard, a three legged dog and a backpack filled with 30 lbs of ganja, I'll get to that one later...).

Around 10:30, I get a call from my friends dad. This is where things start going wrong. Turns out, while he was down in Miami, the compressor on his rig went out(no compressor = no air brakes) so it was going to be at least another three days before I could get picked up. Bugger.

At this point, I had three options. Head back home, try and find a ride, or stick it out for those three days. In hindsight, the last option would have been best, as there were a few open abandoned trailers I could have camped out in. However, my dumb ass decided to try to catch a ride.

After listening around and asking questions, I found out someone was heading up to Chattanooga. Great, I can get up there and wait. However, nobody was willing to give me a ride(Insurance reasons and federal law...) So, I decided, like an idiot, that if I couldn't get a ride _in_ the truck, I would ride _on_ the truck. By this time it's about 5:30 am

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DISCLAIMER:

Keep in mind what I'm about to describe is JFD, Just Fucking Dumb. Compare it to a first time rider trying to catch the juice train on the fly. Not even going into the legal aspect, there's any number of things that can happen that will result in death or dismemberment.

If the kingpin is set close to the cab you can get crushed if the truck makes a sharp turn or jackknifes.

You can get pushed off the truck if it makes a sharp turn or jackknifes.

An air hose can work loose and flail around. If it catches you in the noggin the force is strong enough to kill you. If it catches you in the chest, the force is strong enough to shatter your ribs, and either puncture or collapse a lung.

If an air hose ruptures the pressure is high enough to cut off a limb, penetrate your skull, penetrate your abdomen, or _decapitate_ you.

The truck can swerve or hit a pothole and throw you off.

A foreign objects can fly up into the catwalk and hit you.

I would never ride this way again, no matter how badly I need a ride, and I warn people not to do it. I'd rather catch a ride through the middle of nowhere with Charlie Manson, Ed Gein _and_ John Wayne Gacy. There are no words in any language, except maybe "suicidal" to describe how stupid and dangerous this is. I was very lucky I wasn't killed, injured or arrested. In all I'm not proud that I did it, and even though I made it out unscathed, I regret it to this day.

Chalk it up you youthful, testosterone fueled, "I'm invincible" stupidity.
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So, I single out the driver heading up to Chat, and wait for him to head to his truck. He was on shut down and wouldn't be heading back out until 6:30-7pm, so I chilled at the truck stop, did a little spanging, and what all else to pass the time...

I hid under the trailer he was parked next to while he inspected the truck, came up on his blindside after he got in, and hopped up on the catwalk and sat down. A few minutes later that big white Frieghtliner rumbled to life and we started moving. This is when I learned about the crushing part of my disclaimer. It was a close call and I almost jumped off right then and there, but this guy was a leadfoot and by the time I came to my senses we were already moving at a pretty good clip. As my heart rate slowed, I said to myself "this ain't so bad" and settled in.

Five minutes later, as we're hurtling up 75 at what felt like a thousand mile per hour (but was probably on 60-70), with the cold wind whipping all around me, getting pelted with bugs and splatters of oil and road grime, choking on the fumes of passing vehicles, I started regret my decision. The exhaust pipe started to heat up, providing some relief, but an hour later I was so miserable I was actually begging for death. At this point everything becomes a blur of flashing lights and wind noise, I may have passed out somewhere along the line, I don't remember.

I don't get motion sickness, but this was bad enough that I puked twice that I remember. We finally stopped some hours later. It was dark and I had no clue where the hell we were, other than the fact that we were at another truck stop. Thank god it wasn't a weigh station, otherwise I'd probably be in the clink right now. I was coherent enough to know that it was time to bug out, but not steady enough to do so. By the time I stood up this driver was already out of his truck, and making another inspection. Who should he find but poor, pitiful me.

To be continued...


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## Wolfeyes (Nov 12, 2009)

Moving On...

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The driver, who's name I later learned was Fred, stood there confused at first, then through the film of grime he recognized my face and made the connection. I was the kid who asked for a ride back in Florida. His face turns beet red, he grabs me by the hair and hauls me down off the catwalk of the truck and starts screaming at me. The exact words of his lecture have been lost in the endless river of boredom and booze, but it started out along the lines of "What the HELL were you thinking?!?", segued into "you could have been killed" and "I could have been arrested" then moved on to "Don't ever do anything like that again"

At this point, my brain is functioning at a level somewhere between stoned and braindead, so all I could think to say was "Don't have to tell me twice, I'm never going to this carnival again." He asked me what I was thinking, I shrugged, told him I had no other way to get where I was going and it seemed like a good idea at the time. Then I said, and I remember it very clearly "If you're mad, please either kill me or turn me into the cops, either one would be better than what I just went through. If not, I'll just crawl into a ditch and with any luck I'll freeze to death."

That struck a nerve with him, and I guess he figured that little adventure was punishment enough and he felt sorry for me. He grabbed my bag off the truck, propped me up on his arm and brought me into the truck stop lounge. Bought me a cup of coffee, two microwave burrito's (one of which I stuffed into my jacket to warm up) and slipped me a five. I learned that I was just outside of Chat, and then I passed out in one of the chairs. I don't remember the exact time, but I remember getting a call from my friends dad to see if I was ok. I told him I had gotten a ride, and where I was. He told me to check in at the company terminal and he'd let them know my situation(which improved drastically further on in my story). Then I passed out again.

I lost track of time, but I when I woke up, it was light out. Walked around the store, looked at a map to get my bearings, ate the other burrito and headed into Chattanooga proper looking for the terminal. I found it eventually, but the yard was locked when I got there. Wandered around a bit after it got fully dark(another bad idea in hindsight), then set up camp under an overpass.

About the time I felt comfortable enough to slip into a light sleep, I feel somebody shaking my arm and a young mans voice, with a slight Caribbean accent, telling me to wake up. Turns out is was a rail thin street kid, wearing dirty overalls and a loud sweater. He starts telling me how it's not safe to sleep there,(cops, homebums, etc...) and he's got a better place to stay. So I roll up my bag and blanket, stuff my tarp into my bag and start following him, all the while keeping one hand wrapped tightly around the handle of the knife I carried at the time.

We go about a mile down I-24 to a spot where a rail line runs under the highway. Hidden behind some bushes and a small trash pile stood a little shelter made of corrugated sheet metal and plywood, with a burn barrel outside. Quite charming actually. Anywho... he helps me set up my tarp, tells me his name is Migs, then goes back into the shelter and comes out with three bags of dorito's, a bowl and a little bag of grass. We stayed up for a while, toking, eating and shooting the breeze. After a while we're both high and sleepy so we turn in for the night. Good times. I was warm, fed and stoned, life was good.

Next morning I wake up, the sun is out and I smell food. I peek outside and there's Migs, sitting next to this sick looking blond girl about my age, cooking breakfast(fried green beans, rice and pita). He introduces me to the girl, named Bunny(don't ask, I don't know) let's me know that, while she is strung out, she's harmless. We eat, she heads back to the shelter to take a hit and Migs tells me how he's been trying to clean her up for over a year, but she had a really shitty childhood(parents traded her for meth) and can't sleep without waking up screaming, unless she's high.

I head out to check back in at the terminal, Migs lets me know I'm welcome at anytime (good to know).

I check in at the terminal, and they tell me this guy named Mike, who I met before, will be by the term in a few days to give me a ride up to Lexington. So I leave them my number, hang around a little bit to charge up my phone, and ask about a shower. Turns out they were being renovated at the time, but the gave me a voucher for a freebie at a truckstop down the road a bit.

I head on over to wash up and who should I run into outside? Migs and Bunny, spanging outside the front door. We start chatting, so I grab a seat next to them and join in. Made enough for a pack of smokes before a truck driver walks out of the store with a pine tree air freshener and hangs it on my neck, like I just won the filth olympics or something. All I could think to say to the guy was "If I stink that bad, why not just pay for my shower?" He shrugs, says "I did, check the tree." He taped a fiver to the back.

To be continued...


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## Wolfeyes (Nov 12, 2009)

Part three. Don't worry, this torture won't last much longer.

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Migs mentions to me that they both could use a shower, so I give them my voucher. Migs and Bunny split one while I watched their stuff(a can of change and two blankets) then we swapped.

Hung around the store for a while till we were dry. I bought us all a few burgers, then we went our separate ways(Bunny needed another hit before bed). Went back to the term, chilled out there for a while. They let me crash in the bunks. Comfortable, but the company back at the camp was better, so the next day I went back and stayed with them until I got the call that my ride was ready.

Four days later I was back on the road again, this time _inside_ the truck. That part was pretty uneventful. Made it into Lexington in one piece, then started my trek north. Only 75 miles, but being a flatland Florida boy who's not in the best of shape, those hills were torture and it took me almost a week to get where I was going, even though I had help.

Along the way I had a pretty scary moment along some four lane in Grant County, KY. This creepy guy a little bit older than me pulls up in a dropped s-10, telling me to get in. I wasn't hitching, just walking. I told him I wasn't looking for a ride, then he started following me, crawling along behind me on a 55 mph road, just staring at me.

Lucky for me a cop saw him doing this and pulled him over. He tried to tell the cop that I was his brother and he was trying to get me to come back home, but I called BS and the cop checked our ID's, ran both of them. Turns out this guy was wanted for questioning about a kidnapping that happened in that area a few weeks ago(eep). I have a clean record, so I was free. The cop was cool, called for another cruiser to pick the guy up, then gave me a ride to the Kenton County line, putting me only about 20 miles from my destination. Sweet.

Finally made it to my friends house at 5 in the evening, grabbed some food and a shower and started retelling the story over a few rounds of Guinness and Jaeger. Had a good time, stayed the rest of April, all through May and caught a hound back to FL the first week of June.

All in all, while I had a great time while I was up there, I think I had a better time getting there, despite a rough start.

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So that's the story of my first long trip. Now bask in my stupidity!:worship:


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## tumtum (Nov 12, 2009)

Great story! That part about riding on the back of the truck sounds pretty wild.


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## UrbanNokizaru (Nov 13, 2009)

That's a badass story, it's cool that Migs just helped you out like that.


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## Wolfeyes (Nov 13, 2009)

elcoteda said:


> Great story! That part about riding on the back of the truck sounds pretty wild.


 Yep, it was wild alright. I know I keep harping on it, but it was dumb even by my standards, and I'm a guy who once played tag with a six foot hammerhead, dragged a canoe a mile barefoot through quicksand-like mud littered with oyster beds, broken glass and god knows what else(another story to tell), then there was the time I went "Road Skiing" 

I'm the king of stupid ideas.



UrbanNokizaru said:


> That's a badass story, it's cool that Migs just helped you out like that.



Yeah, it was, but that's just the kinda guy he is, always trying to help everyone, even at his own expense... What's funny, I'm actually older than he is, but he's been a street kid since he was 14. He's 18 now, had his birthday back September. Last time I heard from him(Mid-October-ish), Bunny had been clean and detoxed since the first week of June and she was sleeping better, so good for her. Said they might be heading down this way for the winter, which would be cool.


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## stove (Nov 14, 2009)

hah damn dude you are def. getting up there in the stupid chart. It's not a pissing contest by any means, but I think we've all done some riddiculously stupid shit.


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## Wolfeyes (Nov 14, 2009)

Like I said, I'm the king of stupid ideas. I would be a shoe-in for the cast of Jackass 3.


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## Apples (Nov 14, 2009)

Most stupid ideas seem like good ideas at the time. Great story though, sounds like an unforgettable trip.


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## Wolfeyes (Nov 14, 2009)

Apples said:


> Most stupid ideas seem like good ideas at the time. Great story though, sounds like an unforgettable trip.



That's usually my excuse.

It must be unforgettable. All the braincells I've killed between then and now didn't seem to be the ones containing the story.

Oh hell, I just thought about it... Thank god I wasn't drunk when I did that...


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## Apples (Nov 16, 2009)

Amen to that. Gotta be pretty sober when doing things like that or else the result might not be so pretty.


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## Smallredbox (Nov 16, 2009)

Pretty cool story, thanks


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