9:30 am. Time to get up and head down the road. Won’t get all the way there today but most of the way we hope. It was only 60 degrees last night so we slept with the windows down and fan on. Good way to sleep. Looks like a pretty day today.
12:30 pm. Stopped at a travel plaza outside Pittsburgh. They had a little Amish farmers market going on. We bought some apples and blueberries and some raspberry jalapeño jelly. Sounds great. They were out of fresh strawberries but the guy said the farmer was bringing more this afternoon. Too late for us but I’m sure others will enjoy. Greg had a banana and blueberry smoothie which he said was great with the fresh berries. My lunch consisted of pretzels and hummus. They had Quiznos and Burger King in the travel plaza but we just couldn’t bring ourselves to eat it. When this is over we may never eat sandwiches again. Lol.
Some shots around Pittsburgh.
DG: 8:30 pm, stopped for the night at a rest area in Ohio. We are on I-70 and I gotta tell ya there is a world of difference between these rest area and the ones on I-80. No showers, no lounge, no food court. Just bathrooms and picnic tables.
Got out of the truck to catch the sunset. Standing next to a farmer’s field I realize how much I miss land.
DG: 9:20, getting ready for bed. It’s cool out so won’t need to run the a/c but we are really close to the cow barn and the odor is prevalent. But you don’t notice after a while. I hope.
I like rest areas for sleeping. They are not nearly as busy and noisy as truck stops. Trucks are constantly moving around in truck stops and everybody has a refer, and they are noisy.
So, I’ve been contemplating my recent encounters with very unhappy people. First there was the scouting incident when I ever so innocently, but with perhaps a touch of accusation, inquired of one of the scouting personnel as to why my grandson came back from his outing with such a severe sunburn. To which I was told, “We tried to keep sunscreen on them” and some other lame excuse that everyone was sunburned to which I exploded, ahem, politely inquired with all CAPS, “SO THE 12 YEAR OLDS WERE IN CHARGE?” That excited another member of the group so much so that he felt compelled to come running toward me perhaps to better hear my next question at which point my son, ever my hero, jumped between us spouting some liberal jibberish like, “Let’s all just calm down now”, something like that. I don’t know where he picked up that kind of language. Showing no fear, and really feeling no anger, just the head spinning confusion as to what I was hearing. Does no one take responsibilities for their actions anymore? No one? I was standing there listening to adults that were supposed to be in charge of a group of 11&12 year olds telling me that they were powerless to overcome the will of these children in order to protect them. Boy, good thing the kids didn’t insist on going alligator hunting. I truly could not believe what I was hearing, but then I could. I’ve heard it too often these day.
On to my next encounter. Leaving Florida with a load of paint I pulled into the first truck stop I came to in order to check my weight and make sure I was legal. The line for the scale and the fuel line was nearly one in the same however when I got up to the scale there was another truck on the scale already so I stayed to the left so that drivers wishing to fuel could go around me and get to the pumps. A trucker pulled up behind me and since the truck was still on the scales I got out and went back to tell him if he was getting fuel to go ahead around me as I was waiting on the scale. Another driver pulled up behind me and I did the same for him since the scale was still being occupied and he told me he was waiting on the scale as well. A couple of more trucks came around and went to fuel while I was still waiting on the scale. About the time the truck that had taken up residence in the scale started moving I checked my mirror and there is a truck coming up beside me. I’m assuming he is going to fuel. Wrong. He goes just a little bit past the scale then cuts back to line up for it and pulls right up there ahead of me and the guy behind me. Well, I’m thinking he just didn’t see me flashing my blinker and starting to turn in that direction so I felt compelled to inform him of the situation. Walking up to his truck I notice a couple of military stickers on the side, one of them indicating that he was a Vietnam Vet. No matter, rude is rude and needs to be pointed out. Standing there beside his truck I also notice it is old and in very questionable operational mode noting that the driver’s door is held closed by a ratchet strap. I look up at the old bearded veteran and explain to him that he jumped in front of two other drivers waiting for the scale, one of them me. I see his mouth moving and his expression is not one that would indicate he is happy we are having this conversation, but I can’t hear him because his window is still up. I yell so that he might hear me, “roll your window down”, also making a winding motion with my hand in case he is actually deaf which is unlikely because you have to pass a hearing test to pass your DOT physical, but this guy may be driving withou a license, I don’t know. He is assuredly ignorant of truck stop scaling etiquette. His temperament is not improving and he seems to be very agitated that I would suggest that he has not followed the rules of common courtesy. Then he does something so ridiculous that it almost made me laugh. In an apparent attempt to scare me, I assume, he jerks the door hard as if trying to open it and jump out on me, and as I mentioned, it is being held closed by a ratchet strap. So, deciding my new acquaintance has neither the desire for parlay or showing any semblance of common courtesy I give up on my efforts at cultural enlightenment and walk away. I hope he had a better evening.
Next comes the impatient driver, that be me, and the driver who doesn’t close his door when leaving the cab of his truck which is one of the first things one is taught when learning to drive one of these things.
So I’m at the Sherwin-Williams warehouse in Fredricksburg, PA to deliver the load of paint we brought from Florida. I’m given a door to pull into but have to wait on the other driver to pull out of that door. I drive to the other end of the lot to turn around to position correctly for backing and wait for my opening. There is a truck up ahead to my left, about 12 feet from the curb and it appears he is adjusting his tandems. There is enough room for me to go up, turn around and pull between him and the curb to wait. As I make my turn and approach the opening I notice he has left his door open. So I stop. I’m beside his cab as he comes back to his truck and me with my window down, he looks up and with quite the attitude asks, “You couldn’t wait 10 seconds?” I didn’t know what to say as I didn’t see a problem, so I said nothing, but I imagined while assessing the situation, a quick shove of my door and this turkey would be on his back on the pavement. Oops! But I didn’t. So what’s up with these encounters? I don’t know. Something in the air I guess. Oh well, we’re all safe and healthy, the kids are well and God is in control. Thank you Jesus.
Annie – stopping for the night in New Paris, Ohio. It’s a quiet place but as mentioned above, quite smelly. Between the manure and the drivers who cannot apparently make it to the bathroom and insist on peeing in the parking lot I am hoping my nose doesn’t fall off. We have about 300 miles to go tomorrow. We had a lot of construction in Pennsylvania and that slowed us down quite a bit. Now we get to bounce across Indiana and Illinois tomorrow. Yay!
Good night y’all.
Hills Over The Road 