I gave up working on cars years ago. It is extremely annoying and makes me irritable and grumpy. Why? Because things never go right, there isn’t room to get to anything, and usually multiple trips to the store searching for some obscure tool is involved. I decided I’d rather make a payment on a decent car than spend the same amount or more on repairs. Life is easier that way.

But sometimes, I still find myself lying under a vehicle with wrenches, or reaching down into places too small for my hand to fit, or just staring at the engine, hoping for inspiration. Maybe I’m hoping it will fix itself. For some reason, that never happens.

This past week, the alternator on my wife’s car went out. I tried suggesting she should fix it. But that was met with a less than favorable response. And so, since I do not like paying the exorbitant fee for a mechanic—$120.00 an hour is a little ridiculous—the job fell to me.

It used to be, changing an alternator took only a couple of wrenches and about ten or fifteen minutes. But times change. Now, it takes longer than that just to find the alternator. And then once it is located, an entire arsenal of tools is required (and several hours) to figure out how to get the old one off and the new one on. By the time I was finished, I remembered very clearly why I stopped working on cars.

The good news is, it’s done. Everything is back together and I didn’t end up with any extra nuts or bolts. I got very few scrapes and cuts on my hands and made only one trip to the store. All in all, not a bad experience. And for those who may be wondering, yes, it works! Hey, I never said I didn’t know how to fix cars, just that I didn’t like to. Guess I could go into business as a mechanic. At $120.00 an hour, the pay would be good, but my wife probably would rather I not. There’s something about me being irritable and grumpy that she finds annoying.

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook and paperback on iTunes, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Diesel Books, and Smashwords, or at www.bruceabordersbooks.weebly.com. Amazon Profile - http://www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS. Bruce A. Borders also serves as the Vice-President of Rave Reviews Book Club.

RAVE REVIEWS BOOK CLUB

Current Reads

Rave Soup For The Writer’s Soul: An Anthology
Various Authors

Damaged Goods
Jack Everett

My GRL
John Howell

SPOTLIGHT Author

Michael Eging
Annwyn's Blood

After twenty years of driving a truck, I thought I’d seen it all when it comes to crazy things in the trucking world. But a few weeks ago, I came across something new. Something I had definitely not seen before.

The weather was cold and a lot of trailer brakes were freezing up. A few of the newer drivers at my job had never experienced the joys of that and appeared to be having a difficult time of it. Actually, it’s really not that big of a problem. If the brakes are frozen, all it takes is a little rapping on the bottom of the drum with a hammer. But, if a guy doesn’t know that, or know exactly how and where to hit, it can be a nightmare. One guy apparently decided it was too much of a hassle and didn’t bother.

He made it out of the terminal fine. But as soon as he got to the county road where the ice gave way to dry pavement, he quickly blew two tires. It seems rubber doesn’t last long when skidding across the road.

I was on my way in, about two miles from the terminal, when I saw him sitting on the road. I stopped to see if he was okay, figuring he’d blown some tires. All this I’d seen before. Every winter someone does it. Usually, however, drivers do not stop and just sit there. We were on a narrow two-lane road with no shoulders. It was dark and he’d turned his lights off. Anyone coming around the corner would have a hard time seeing him.

I suggested he drive a half mile down the road to a big graveled lot and turn around. He’d already ruined the tires, it wasn’t going to hurt much to take the trailer back and get another one. Besides, he needed to get off the road.

But Mr. New Driver had other ideas. He thought it’d be better if he just backed all the way to the yard. Yeah, that sounded like a plan! Back two miles around corners, up and down a few hills, down a road with no painted lines, no shoulders, and a ditch on either side, while it’s dark. A new driver! Yeah, I didn’t want to be around for that!

I rolled my eyes, said okay, and drove on to the yard. I had another trip to make, so I switched trailers and headed back out. But I didn’t make it far. That same guy was blocking the road not too far from where I’d left him. At first, I thought he’d just gotten sideways but the closer I got, it was plain he had bigger problems.

Instead of backing all the way, he’d decided to use the railroad crossing to turn around. Yes, he’d backed the trailer off the road, down the tracks, then got the tires of his cab stuck in between the railroad ties. The rest of his cab was sprawled across the road, effectively blocking all traffic. He couldn’t move forward or backward. And now, instead of two blown tires, he had six.

Even more alarming was the guy’s suggestion that he get a ride with me and just leave his truck there—on the tracks! Our shop mechanic, who was on his way home, and I, both nixed that. It took over an hour and involved a chain and me towing the other truck but we did get the guy off the tracks and back to the yard.

Now for the kicker. While backing a truck to the yard from where the guy had stopped seemed like a bad idea, it is certainly not impossible. I know. I’ve done it. Twice. (No, I didn’t blow out my tires). Neither time was by choice. On both occasions, the train had derailed. Since that takes days to clean up, I was left with only one option: back up for two miles around corners, up and down a few hills, down a road with no painted lines, no shoulders, and a ditch on either side, in the dark. I made it just fine too. Of course, I didn’t try backing down the railroad tracks. Call me crazy but I’m pretty sure those were made for trains, not trucks!

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook and paperback on iTunes, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Diesel Books, and Smashwords, or at www.bruceabordersbooks.weebly.com. Amazon Profile - http://www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS. Bruce A. Borders also serves as the Vice-President of Rave Reviews Book Club.

SPOTLIGHT Author

Helen Treharne

I guess it’s inevitable, given the number of miles I drive, that I seem to run into more than my share of drivers going the wrong way. Not literally run into them—at least not yet—but I do have occasion to see them quite frequently. Sometimes, I’m lucky and they’re on the other side of the freeway but far too often, they are on my side, barreling toward me at full speed. Being in a semi-truck, I’m not too concerned about my well being, but at a combined speed pushing 140 mph, something tells me these people wouldn’t fare too well in the event of a crash. Me, I’d just have a lot of paperwork to fill out.

I’ve written about this before, I know. But recent events warrant a revisiting.

This past week, I had the opportunity to meet another of these wayward individuals who obviously had lost their way. I saw the car coming, headlights shining brightly, and strangely, on my side of the divider. The good news is the approaching car was in the left lane and I was in the right lane.

The first instinct in such a situation, is to move to the right and get off the road as far as possible. That’s just human instinct. But not being human, the DOT doesn’t see it that way. As a truck driver, I’m not allowed to leave my lane—even to avoid a crash. If I were to do so and cause another crash or if the driver coming at me suddenly figures out his mistake and swerves into me, it could, and likely would, be considered my fault. On the other hand, although there are no guarantees, if I maintain my own lane and there is a crash, I stand a much better chance of not being blamed. Brings a whole new meaning to stand your ground!

The “experts” will tell you when anything like this occurs there is no time to think about what to do. You just react. From the time you realize what is happening until the car goes zooming past is only seconds. Due to (too much) experience, I know the approaching vehicle is usually less than an eighth mile away when the realization occurs. Depending on the speed of both vehicles, that’s somewhere around three to four seconds at the most. Not much time to react. Yet, when it happens it seems as if everything slows down, providing ample time to think all sorts of thoughts and assess the situation.

As soon as I determined the vehicle was on my side of the road, I checked my mirror. A car was slowly trying to pass me. Due to the slight curve of the highway to the right, I knew the driver would be unable to see the oncoming car. And, being beside me, he would have nowhere to go. But what could I do? It’s not like I had time to write a message and hang it out the window!

But, I didn’t have to. I hit my turn signal and abruptly moved to the left, toward the center line, making it appear I was coming over, while not leaving my lane. My action had the intended effect. The car passing me suddenly slowed—amid much cussing from the driver, directed at me, I’m sure. But then immediately, the driver must have seen the headlights coming. He swerved into the right lane behind me so fast, I thought he might wreck.

The wrong-way driver flew past us both and disappeared down the road. The guy in the car behind me stayed there for the next few miles, apparently using me for a shield. In a matter of seconds, I’d gone from the stereotypical truck driver everybody loves to hate, to the guy who could provide a welcomed safety cushion. I know I probably gave the guy beside me a heart attack when he thought I was going to crush him. And I’m sure I was called every name in the book! And then some! I just wish I could have heard what he was saying because I think I had the perfect response:

“You’re welcome.”

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook and paperback on iTunes, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Diesel Books, and Smashwords, or at www.bruceabordersbooks.weebly.com. Amazon Profile - http://www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS. Bruce A. Borders also serves as the Vice-President of Rave Reviews Book Club.

When my oldest daughter was two years old, I took her on a cross country trip. Just her and I. A father/daughter trip.

My wife had no desire to go along since she absolutely hates driving anywhere in the winter. This is probably due, at least in part, to a trip the two of us took before we got married. A trip that contained a little extra “adventure.” I wrote a blog about that event, which you can read here.

But back to the father/daughter trip. We traveled from Wisconsin to Wyoming to visit my parents at Thanksgiving. A memorable trip, and one I still look back on fondly. At the time, a few people thought I was crazy. Apparently, fathers do not generally take their small children on long trips. Well, I guess I’m not normal. We had a great time and I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. A few years later, I again took her with me, to Missouri this time.

Some years later, when my son came along, he and I made several road trips, to Wyoming and other places. Again, these trips made for great memories that I reflect on quite often. Reminiscing, as it is called. Now, I realize as a truck driver, my view may be skewed, but there’s something about a long road trip that connects people in a way nothing else can.

But wait, there’s more! I also have another child, a daughter. As a momma’s girl, when she was young, she never wanted to be away from her mother very long at all—with me or anyone else. And so, the two of us never took any extended trips together. That is, until this last weekend. She’s now an adult but better late than never, right?

Being that we’re smack dab in the middle of winter, as you can imagine, my wife did not wish to make the journey. So, the two of us, my daughter and I, drove to Idaho to help my son move. A three-day trip that brought back a lot of memories from the travels with my other two children and reminding me of what I’d missed out on with her.

Of course, this time, I wasn’t “in charge” of, well, anything really. I didn’t have to hold her hand when we got out of the truck, order her food, or think up road games to pass the time. In fact, I didn’t have to take care of her in any way. She is quite a capable person! In some ways, that made this trip quite different. Yet, in many ways it was the same. A father/daughter road trip. Just her and I.

And at last, my trifecta of father/child road trips is complete! Good thing too. Because, apparently, I’m older than I used to be. Although I drive for a living, weekend trips tend to wear me out these days. But before I go to bed for some much needed sleep, I just wanted to say thanks to my daughter for traveling along!

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook and paperback on iTunes, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Diesel Books, and Smashwords, or at www.bruceabordersbooks.weebly.com. Amazon Profile - http://www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS. Bruce A. Borders also serves as the Vice-President of Rave Reviews Book Club.

RAVE REVIEWS BOOK CLUB

Current Reads

Rave Soup For The Writer’s Soul: An Anthology
Various Authors

Damaged Goods
Jack Everett

Beneath African Skies
Gillie Bowen

 
SPOTLIGHT Author

Robin Chambers
 A Wizard Dreams