WATCHING THE WEATHER...

I drove a truck for more than forty years and after making more than my share of mistakes, I began to pay more attention to some things...Especially, the weather...

As we all know, the weather is unpredictable(weatherman or not), but after a few winters under my belt I became some what of a weatherman myself.  In most cases, it only requires a bit of common sense to avoid a major catastrophe. After a while I begin to realize it when a situation was developing and get out of the way BEFORE it was too late.

I was just outside of Rock Springs, Wyoming, it was December, and had been raining all day long. No snow so far...just rain. Anyone that knows Wyoming, knows it is usually a very long way to the next town. A long, open stretch of road with almost no places to get in out of the storm if it suddenly hits. The sun was starting to go down and the temperature was dropping fast. That meant only one thing to me...ICE!

I had already made up my mind that there is not a load worth getting injured or killed  for. I learned a long time ago, most of my customers would rather that I arrive late, rather than them losing everything. Now, if only I could find a motel room for the night. A lot of nights I slept in the truck but, somehow, tonight was not going to be one of them...IF I can help it... On stormy nights, the motels have a booming business. I have wondered more once if the motels owners pray for bad weather, knowing it is good for business. I certainly hope not...

Fortunately, I pulled in early enough and managed to get a room, I park the truck and headed for a safe night and maybe a quick beer. As I made my way to the motel I glanced towards the highway, still  packed with traffic, trying to make a few more miles. I wondered if they remembered that it is over a hundred miles east to the next truck stop. I hoped they knew what they were doing. Soon, that road is   going to be a nightmare in ice. Oh Boy!

I spent a comfortable night and had a good sleep and once the sun came up next morning, I had a slow breakfast and waited for the morning sun  to knock the top off the icy night's work. Finally, I warmed the truck up, caught up my log book and headed east. It wasn't long before I saw the results of NOT watching the weather...I always have to wonder if they were just driving too fast, or if maybe, the wind caught them. Many new drivers are too OVER confident. Under such conditions, too much confidence can get you killed. I learned long time ago that no matter how heavy a truck is loaded, IF that wind catches the side of it...Well! It is NEVER heavy enough... Once that trailer gets more than half way around, there is not much chance of saving it. All one can do is hang on...

Call me Paranoid, or maybe just more experienced, but that could have been me that ended up like that. I will be honest and tell you, a few winters ago...That WAS me...Now, you know WHY I watch the weather...

SUDDEN SHOWERS...Huh?

The sun came up again this morning, with another  hot, uncomfortable, day predicted.  I made the decision to have my first cup of the day with the windows open, BEFORE things heat up; Get some fresh air and enjoy the morning while I still can...
About one sip into my coffee I heard a sound...NO! It can't be...I was just outside and not a cloud in the sky but...IT'S RAINING... First a little, then a full bored GULLEYWASHER(as we call it here)...I had to run out and  close the windows on my pickup truck. In the middle of an ARIZONA summer, we can, usually, only dream of rain.

Believe it or not, at such a time as this, I can only look up and say....THANK YOU! At a time like this,  don't ask, just be thankful...Forget the weatherman and enjoy a brief blessing...

JERKWATER TOWN...

I, like a lot of people, grew up in a small town and had often heard it referred to as 'A jerkwater town'...
I really never gave it much thought, till I got older and started questioning life in general. Then, I had to ask...WHY is it called a JERKWATER town? Where did that term ever come from? What did it mean?

As I discovered, the jerkwater part didn't apply to where I was from because the Railroad didn't come near us.  I find out that was an old term for towns, with a JERKWATER tank, where the old steam trains use to stop and fill their tanks...

The trains would make a brief stop, let off or pick up passengers, and drop the JERKWATER spout to refill their tanks for the next leg of the journey across country. I have no idea what sort of mileage they got on one tank, but there was always another 'JERKWATER TOWN' on down the line...

Somehow, over the years, the term got attached to just about ANY small town that wasn't on the map or nobody had ever heard of...EXCEPT the people living there...

TIME AND TRAVEL...

As I get older, I seem to spend more time thinking and remembering things from when I was a kid; I guess we all, eventually, go that way...
We, originally, came from Illinois...a long time ago. Back then, the roads were much narrower, the cars bigger and different from what they are now. Back then, Gas was a LOT cheaper, but of course, people made a lot less money, compared to today's standards. By today's standard, I guess most of us were... what would be called...Poor? We were just kids and we didn't know we were poor. Didn't know what that meant...yet! We were going west and it was so exciting. We loved it; seeing all these new things and up to that point in time we never realized the world was so big.

I remember that we(kids) were disappointed  that we were not attacked by Indians on the way out. We felt better when Dad explained to us that WE were Indian and they wouldn't bother us...NOW, we could relax and see the sights. Thinking now, about the so-called comforts of riding in the back seat of that old car all the way to Nebraska (in the middle of summer), well, it was good thing to be young...

One thing, I DO remember is the water bags(drinking water), that Dad hung on the front bumper of the car. In those days, there were not a lot of fancy coolers and air conditioners. We had the canvas water bags on the bumper and all the windows down for air conditioning...

We were young and didn't know then, what we know now, but the water was in no way cold(like ice) and it tasted like the canvas bag it was in, BUT, it was wet, and that is all that mattered. I remember it seemed to take forever, but at the time we didn't know where we were going, or when we would get there. The Doctor had recommended my Dad leave Illinois and move to a dryer climate and we were moving west to find a new place. Dad had, somehow, developed an allergy to CORN; Can't  be a farmer in Illinois if you're allergic to corn.

We went west; on and on,  and in those days corn wasn't found much in western Nebraska; Wheat was King then...We got to where there was only wheat and Dad felt fine, so we settled into our new life near Sidney, Nebraska. It was wheat harvest time, Dad got a job and for a short time, I remember, we lived in a big tent. For us, it was such an exciting time...

I realize now that it doesn't take a lot to be happy and have good memories. We had a place to sleep and enough to eat, AND we had our family right beside us...What more can one ask for...

Young Adventures In The North Country...

At age 17, a friend and I hitchhiked from California, back to Colorado,  where we had lived before. It took us about two weeks to get there, with more than enough problems along the way. We were going back to catch the yearly wheat harvest. Young and adventurous, we were going to get a job with the wheat harvest and see new things...

We made a brief stopover in Raton, New Mexico, where we took a week's job on a construction crew. The reason we did this was because, back then, hitchhiking in Colorado was a good way of ending up in Jail; We weren't too keen on that prospect, so we busted concrete for a week, got lot of blisters and made just enough money to buy a ticket to Akron, Colorado.
When we arrived in Akron, we were told that the harvest started early and we had just about missed everyone. There were just a few left. Oh No!
 We sat in the cafe having a cup of coffee and wondering if we had made a mistake. About the time we were beginning to lose hope one of the Harvesters by the name of Melvin Robinson(from Brownfield, Texas) came in. The waitress told him we were looking for work and, thank God, he was needing a couple of strong young bodies. At last...  we had a job...We had gotten rather lean and hungry on our trip to Colorado and the idea of

starving was not good. Now, at least we knew we wouldn't go hungry again.

It was hot dusty work, but we were young and could take it; We kept telling ourselves that. The cutting near Akron lasted for about another week then we were on our way to Montana. I had never been to Montana before. A job and a new adventure; A perfect time at 17...

In a matter of days we arrived in Ft. Benton, Montana, a very old town sitting right on the Missouri river. Very old and interesting. Our boss paid us 30 dollars a week and room and board. We were to stay at the old Choteau Hotel. Like the rest of the town, the old hotel was ancient, even in 1958, but it was hard to find any place to stay when the harvest on going on. Harvesters were packed in  everywhere.

We had to share, four to a room, but after long days in the field we were so tired we  didn't care or know the difference. We heard tales about strange happening in this old building. Lots of ghost stories. I listened for a while then just passed out, leaving the ghosts to themselves. It was an exciting time for a 17 year old boy. We worked hard, ate good, passed out at night and earned a lot of good memories to remember in the future.

About 40 years  later, I was working for a moving company out of Cheyenne, Wyoming. One day my boss told me that one of the bank executives was moving to Montana, and did I want to do the job? Sure! Where is he moving? When he told me, a funny feeling came over me; He was moving to Ft.Benton....He started to tell me where it was located but I stopped him and told him...'I've been there'! Ok! The job was on...

We loaded the bankers furniture and off we went to Montana. I didn't even think about the time of year till I was just outside Ft. Benton, then I realized...Good lord! It's harvest time...Oh Boy! That is weird. Then, I suddenly remembered something; How impossible it might be to find a place to stay the night...
I arrived at the bankers new house and we unloaded and finished in good time. I wasn't so young anymore and I find myself quite tired, but still hadn't decided where to stay the night. There were no truck stops so parking the truck and sleeping in it was not an option. I decided to ask one of the locals for any ideas.

As I might have expected, he told me the wheat harvest was in full swing and about everything was full. I asked him about the Choteau hotel. I got the dumbest looks from those standing around. I asked what was wrong. He just grinned and hesitated for a moment...

That old hotel is a historic landmark and has been closed for years now. I guess too many roomers complained about the old land lady walking the halls all night long. Problem was...She had died several years earlier, but had apparently never left. Enough is enough! They just decided to close it up.

I ended up getting approval from the local police and I slept in my truck...parked in front of the Bankers new house...