"Hey Lady, That's a Funny Place to Park"!!!

How often do you make a wrong turn while driving your car? Even if only occasionally, you know you can easily get turned around, and get yourself back on track. Imagine, if you will, trying to get turned around to the correct direction when you are driving an 18 wheeler...a tractor/trailer. It's not so easy. I have gotten MORE lost trying to get back going the right way. In fact, while somewhere out in the Mid-West... Idaho, I believe it was, I drove close to 50 miles before I could find a place large enough to turn around in.

It was Wintertime, and there was a great deal of snow on the ground in Idaho that day. I was on what the truckers commonly refer to as "a skinny road". A skinny road is one that is not a major interstate, but is OK for truck traffic to use. And they look just like that on the map....skinny roads.

I was going the wrong way. I can get lost in a parking lot, so I was used to making some funky U-turns, but out in the middle of Potato Land, there were no U-turns, or "jughandles" in which to get myself turned around. I drove for miles and miles....seeing vast acres of snow covered farm land. I was on a little two lane road that was heavily trafficked by the tractor trailers trying to avoid the toll roads and "chicken houses"....another trucker term for a weigh scale. After an hour of driving, I finally see a large open expanse with farm equipment parked out in front of a building with a large "John Deere" sign on it. I breathed a huge sigh of relief...."I can get turned around in this guy's semi-circular driveway", I thought.

I pull in, and as I'm heading toward what I thought was the exit, I notice that there seems to be a fairly large, snow covered incline, so I gassed the truck, and roared up the hill.

The truck was doin' pretty good, but suddenly, I came to an abrupt stop. Perplexed, I put her back in first gear, and gunned the engine. Put her in reverse and tried again. Nothing. I wasn't moving. Just making lots of loud engine noise. I look over at the building, and there's 6 men, standing in front of the large storefront window...staring at me in amazement. "Geez....haven't they ever seen a lady driving a 'big rig' before", I was thinking. Even as recently as 10 years ago, ladytruckers were still sort of scarce, and a bit of a novelty.

Well, I climbed down out of the truck to get a better look. To my horror, I saw that I was just plumb stuck....the fuel tanks were halfway buried in the snow. It was deeper than I had realized. And the rear tandem tires were OFF of the ground!!! I had been spinning my tires in the wind! AAARGH!!!

Humiliated, I sheepishly walked toward the building. All of the men were still standing in the window, one old feller was scratching his head, looking as perplexed as I felt.
"Good afternoon, Gentlemen", and I introduced myself. "I was a little lost and found that i was going in the wrong direction, so I thought I'd get turned around in your semi-circular driveway, but somehow, I got stuck".

I look over to my right and see an old farmer, chewin' on a long piece of straw. He spat into a coffee can spittoon next to him, and started to guffaw. "Hey, Earl"! He bellowed, "When y'all gonna finish puttin' in that semi-circular driveway y'all started?!" At that, all of those farmers got to belly laughin' so hard, I feared that the old man was going to keel over from apoplexy. To say I was mortified would be an understatement.

One fella in particular was real nice. He and I walked outside to get a better handle on my predictament, and he explained what I did wrong. "Thar's a big ditch right thar, little lady. It's all filled in with snow. That's why you didn't see that it were a ditch. Git in yer truck and try to back 'er up".

I climb back in and put her in reverse. Gun 'er good. Nothing. Just a lot of noise. And to make matters worse, I hear the truckers cackling over my CB radio..."Hey lady! That's a funny place to park!" They're all having one hell of a good laugh, and no doubt, I gave those fellers many miles of entertainment as they drove down the road. Truckers love to yammer on the CB, and especially out there in potato land where there is not much to look at. To them, a blonde stuck in the ditch was great fun indeed!

A few of the fellers trudged out into the snow to offer "assistance". No matter how I tried to move that truck, it wasn't budging. Finally, they called a farmer buddy from "up the road a piece". I can only imagine what they told him, because it didn't take to long for him to get there on his farm tractor.

He hooked up some cables to the back of the trailer, and started to pull me out backwards. One middle-aged feller, name of Ed Kitchen, and I, hunkered down and stared at the back tires to see if it were actually moving. When I tell you that grass would grow faster than that truck was inching back, we're not exaggerating. "It's movin', little lady, can't ya see the snow bunchin' up on the tire?" If I weren't already so mortified, I would have started wailing. "No, the truck isn't moving, Ed! I'm stuck here forever. I'll have to call my boss!" Being homeless AND unemployed was a calamitious scenario running through my brain at that moment. The last thing I wanted to do, was to have call the boss who was of the antiquated mindset who thought women didn't belong behind the wheel of a "big rig". I sure didn't want to be the gal to "prove him right".

Ed gave me a good look up and down, as amusement twinkled in his eyes. "So, how long you been driving this big ol' truck, little lady?"

My head down, and my voice barely audible, I whispered, " 'Bout four months now, Ed".
"Well, I supposin' y'all ain't doin' all too badly, then." he growled.

The truck moved at a snails pace, and it took over an hour, but that tractor pullin' farmer freed me of that snowy fuel tank grave....backwards, of course. Reaching down into my half frozen jeans, I gratefully grabbed at all the cash that I had in my wordly possession. Yuppers...He got the princely sum of $36 bucks and 80 cents!

I was delirous with joy! Lots of hand-pumping and hearty thank you's and good natured laughter all around! I just couldn't thank them enough for all they did for me, and no, never did tell my boss about that one....nosiree bob!

Though, to this day, I can't help but wonder how many folks read about it in the local paper. I have no doubt that I was the biggest story in that "blink and you'll miss it" little town for a long time after.

Yup, that sure was a funny place to park! LOL!

The Adventures of Katwoman, Chapter Two

After 2 1/2 days of driving, stopping at nearly every truck stop from Wisconsin to Baltimore, I finally arrived at the receiver. My "first". Nice man. To my dismay, the receiving area was a small parking lot, and there was no place to turn around to get a proper "set-up" for putting my big "large car" OTR truck in the dock. I would have to "blind-side" it in. Blind-siding is manuvuering your truck from the right side, as opposed to the left side. If you were parallel parking a car, you know that you use your right hand mirror to park...Well, it's the same principle with a truck. Unfortunately, with a truck, especially one with a sleeper, it is 500 times more difficult, and not taught or encouraged by the S&S T/T school from where I graduated in 1996. If you have no choice but to blind-side, you really need a "spotter" or helper outside the truck to give you hand signals, and help you navigate safely. The bay door was open, and I could see the receiver was impatient for his freight.

I struggled for a half an hour...forward a few inches, back a few inches., The clutch was so tight that my left leg ached, and trembled from the exertion and subsequent muscle fatique. I cussed like a long-shoreman, and at one point, burst out into tears in abject frustration. It was an exultant moment when I realized that, finally, she's IN!!! Got the damned truck into the dock, and with slightly shaky legs, started to climb down out of the truck, when I heard the receiver boom out with, "HEY LADY! YOU FORGOT TO OPEN YOUR 'BARN DOORS'!!!" "Oh, Lord, NO...!",

I was mortified. Embarrassed beyond belief, I climbed back up, and did a pull-up...opened and secured the doors, and repeated the above process of inching forward and back. A few more tears snuck out, and my mascara was totally ruined. I quickly wiped the evidence of distress from under my eyes, and began walking into the warehouse. I was just a few steps short, when this man started bellowing again, "HEY LADY!!! THIS ISN'T MY FREIGHT"!!! This was not a happy customer, and I was confused...I TOOK the load that "Marc", the dispatcher told me to take. Naiive little newbie "trucker" that I was, I believed him, and didn't double check my paperwork before I left out of Wisconsin. Lesson number one: Dispatchers are notorious for telling you one thing, and doing another. I remember calling the 1-800 number for the company. Spoke with another dispatcher. I tried to sound "manly" by cussing assertively, (or so I thought the way I perceived a 'burly, manly' trucker might speak). This did not gain me favor, I assure you. In no uncertain terms, I was told to "RETURN TO THE TERMINAL IMMEDIATELY".

After numerous and heartfelt apologies to the receiver, (and blaming the dispatcher for the screw-up), I was on my way back to contented cow land. I agonized the whole trip back. Used up the rest of my Kleenex tissues. The loss of this new job was a real fear in my mind, and I doubted that I could even collect unemployment if I were to be terminated, which was a certain possibility. I believe that being a woman, and a very blonde one at that, saved my butt. They also took into consideration how "green" I was, and gave me another chance. I was most grateful for that, and vowed to "do better" with my next load. Being that I had the gumption to stand up to tougher adversaries in the past, I truly wanted to succeed and excel in this new-found profession. I may not have had "man-muscles", but I learned that I surely had the heart to try.

My employment with them was over 10 years ago, and I know for a fact that they still use me as an "example", when doing their in-classroom training for the new drivers. "Double check your paper-work before you leave" and "Don't be like that woman who..." I know that they are still laughing at that incident.

Even though the passage of time has soothed a measure of the sting of humiliation, my learning process was still far from over. This was late November. It was Wintertime, and I had many unfamiliar, snow covered roads to traverse. The dreaded "black ice" beckoned. Another learning experience awaited me. I stocked up on more Kleenex, checked my State maps, and aimed the truck toward Route 69 in Illinois.