On The Road Day 2, “I is a Carny”

Awoke to banging on my door, “Time to go old man” is what I heard Jack yelling. Dazed, my eyes opened to a pounding headache. As my eyes adjusted to the first morning light. My vision still blurred as I saw “Hi Loser” on the hall next to my head. (Note to self, get a black magic marker today). My eyes starting to close again, as to grab another 40 winks, I force myself to sit up and gaze at my watch. Far from being a good nights rest, I got in just under 3 hours of sleep.

My back, arms and legs were burning from ache. It has been a long time since this body did so much physical work in one day. My thoughts drift to a good hot shower, perhaps that will wake me up. After all today is:

Travel Day:

The sun was blinding as I opened the door from my cubicle.I was a sight to be seen. Ragged T shirt, a pair of cut off shorts and my sneakers. I trudge down to the end of the trailer where a line is forming to get to the one shower that all 12 of us use.  I am third in line and notice those in front and behind me are all wearing cheap flip flops. As I get ready to finally take my turn I try to hold what little dignity I have left. Everyone about me is at least half my age and can feel my mind heading down the path of “woe is me”. But I push it away with thoughts of my family once again.

I enter the shower which I hope will resemble the only bit of  daily normalcy I might find here on the fair grounds. As I disrobe I notice immediately the floor is filled with left over shower water puddles and soap scum. I quickly add two plus two and now know why people are wearing flip flops, as not to touch the floor, (Second note to self but flip flops) That being said I must now skip my shower that I need and want badly and settle for sticking my head under the shower head. To add insult to injury, the last of the hot water left in less then one minute. The ice cold water did wake me up and added to the strength of my now worsening migraine. I head back to dress. Walking back out with my wet head and grimy body.

Loading Up:

The caravan of odd shape and sized vehicles are being made ready to head out. Jack comes up to me and barks out the fact, that I will be driving truck number 13B. He then turns and leaves as quickly as he came. I look around for the truck I will be driving and after 15 minutes find it not with the the other vehicles of the caravan, but back near the bunk house where we just came from. Parked and now attached to the bunkhouse is a large blue box van with faded wording from a well known Potato Chip Company. So for the rest of the day and evening my sleeping accommodations will be following me where ever I go.

Now, I feel as confident as any man would under these conditions. I can drive this baby where ever it needs to go. But the reality is, I have never drove anything attached to the back of my car before, other then a 6 foot U Haul trailer.  In length the truck and the trailer measures over 40 feet, the length almost  the same as the semi truck and trailer combos. Right now I could care less, I literally now want to get on the road and go. Where ever that may be.

Good Bye PA:

On the front drivers seat lies directions to out next destination, Kentucky. Southeast Kentucky to be exact. It stated it would be a 5 hour drive, but I knew it was more like 9 hours.

Seated next to me in the cab of the truck were two of my co workers by the name of Shawn and Sam. Nice young men so I thought. we should have a good trip, a great day for traveling. We call ourselves the “Wise Guys” in reference of our truck

Starting up the engine was not as easy as simply turning the ignition key. Vehicle maintenance was not a priority it seems to the owners of this particular company and it showed. I had to climb into the engine compartment to open up a stuck choke valve so that gas could make its way into the engine. Once the engine did kick over I was greeted by the sound of 6 out of the 8 cylinders running.  The odds of making it to our destination went down greatly. The worse part of not having all of the cylinders running is the lack of power in the motor. This was of particular concern to me, seeing how we were pulling so much weight and knowing along the line we would be encountering some steep hills. Oh boy.

No sooner had we pulled out into traffic about 10 miles out of town I heard the distinctive sound of sirens. (If you ever rode in a box van the noise level is deafening). This will surely help the headache I am enjoying. Could the sirens be aimed toward me?  I know I was not speeding, nor could I have missed a stop sign. Looking in the rear view mirror sure enough, we were being pulled over. Oi Vey!

The officer came to the window and asked me to step out of the truck.

“Yes officer?”

“Sir, the reason I am stopping you is to see if you’re the owner of this vehicle?”

“No sir, it is my companies.”

“Sir could you please come to the back of the trailer”

Walking to the back I had no idea what this was about. Did we have our plates removed? Was there a dead body being dragged behind us? The closer we got to the back the stench of someone septic was very evident.

“Sir, for the last 10 miles you have been leaking gray water from the back of the trailer along the road. I need you to fix this right away or we will have to tow you.“

“No problem officer. I will fix it right now”

I climb under the trailer into a pond of disgusting waste water that is leaking from the still opened tank where the drain empties out of from the shower. The shower I never got to shower in. the shower I could not use because of no slippers. The SHOWER that is now all over my already rank, smelly body.

“Thank you sir, here is a summons for you to appear in court for this violation, have a good day”

Why do they always say have a good day?

“Thank you officer” are the words I uttered as I started to climb back into the truck. Wishing him under my breath an absolute crappy day!

By God West Virginia:

If I didn’t think of myself as being a Carny before, one quick glance in the rear view mirror. Looking at myself, now confirmed my worst fear, I now indeed was a full blown Carny. My face was scarred with engine grim, my clothes stuck of foul waste water and to top it all off, I hadn’t seen the inside of a shower since I left home. Not to mention I was driving a truck filled with god knows what, with a leaky bunkhouse behind that. The only things I was missing was a tatoo and a few teeth, but then again I was only two days in.

The radio in the truck blared with the sound of ESPN  radio and while it wasn’t the best companion, at least it drowned out he sound of the box truck. According to Colin Coward a study was done in England about couples who sleep in the same bed. It ‘s conclusion was that people who sleep with their mates, on the average have worse sleep and therefore more health problems. He went on to brag how nice it would be for a man to sleep alone Monday through Friday and on the weekends have his mate in bed. Ha, I bet him all the money in the world he had never thought or been in this situation. Damned be those English Researchers.

Good Ole West Virginia:

The sign states we are now entering the Buckhorn State of West Virginia. I have no idea what people do here in West Virginia and have never had the thought of wanting to drive here to visit or take a holiday here. I only know of two cities there, one is Morgantown in the northern most part and Charleston which is in the southern most part of the state. Both leading you out of the state.

Basically the next 3.5 hours was spent traveling up one hill and then down another. Up each hill the truck labored until it reached the top, each one progressively worse. When reaching the top of almost every hill(mountain), there stood three crosses, two white and one yellow. For the life of me I had no idea what they stood for. Curiosity got the better of me and the first stop to get fuel I asked the clerk if she knew what and why they were there. She explained to me that a rich Born Again gentlemen bought small plots of land near the side of highways all along the main interstates and then erected these crosses, as a sign of his faith. It sounds like a good story, if it’s true or not I have no idea. If you know I would love to hear your story.

My Kentucky Home:

As we enter Kentucky the first town we come across is called Ashland. The first thng that strikes you is the smell in the air of chemicals and large stacks with flames coming out the top of them. All along these compounds ran miles upon miles of pipe, in every direction, making it into a man made maze of metal. At least the hills were gone and for the most part now, we were driving on flat, level ground.

I had always assumed Kentucky was a state filled with rolling hills , blue grass and horse farms everywhere the eye could see. I don’t think the eastern part of Kentucky was ever promoted in vacation pamphlets, because all you can see are winding two lane highways that were constructed by blasting away tons of rocks. All along the highway about 50 feet in, ragged cliffs rose and at the base snuggled in and along, were trailers for homes to live in. No backyards, swimming pools or lawns. After every 20 to 30 trailers stood up on the cliff was a mansion, with a long winding driveway to get to the top of the bluff where the owners resided. No place in America that I have ever seen, made the point so clear, the division of wealth as visually as these dwellings.

About an hour into our drive in, I started to notice all along the cliffs a vine that grew heartily from the ground up. The farther we drive, the more abundant these vines appeared, over taking clothe lines, abandon houses, telephone poles and even living trees. It was out of control and not maintained very well, much like the vehicles we were traveling in.

It seems back in the 1930 and 40′s the state brought over from Europe this hearty vine called Kudzu, with the intent to help in the erosion that all the coal strip mining  had left it in’s path, to get to this “Black Gold”. Little did they know, practically nothing killed this vine and that it would soon grow to be everywhere. Anything that stood still for more then a week was and is fair game for this plant. I am not sure if this vine grows in other states and to what extent. But my feeling is the weather and conditions of the Bluegrass State make this the ideal environment for this pesky plant.

Smokey and the Bandit:

The driving directions stated to make a left onto this road, where we came upon a small town. The guys and myself were getting hungry and my eyes were getting heavy. This would be a good place to make a pit stop for some food and freshening up. I doubt anything could have freshened me up, other then me walking through the entire length of a car wash.

As we sat there ready to order our food, a waitress came over and asked us something. It was literally unintelligible as her drawl was so thick,  I couldn’t make it out as anything resembling English. After repeating the same thing to us at least 4 times, I took it upon myself to order a cheeseburger for myself, being the older wiser one, I came up with the conclusion she was asking us for our order.

I finished up first and decided to head back to the truck to lie down for a bit and relax before heading out again. I looked in the glove box to find something to write with to make some notes. Lying there on the top of a stack of papers appeared one beautiful Black Magic Marker. I quickly snapped it up and shoved it into my pocket. Finally I get to take the annoying “Hi Loser” statement from my bedroom wall.

Snaking our way out of town, the two lane highway quickly became one, then less then one. I could see in the distance what appeared to me, a huge steep grade going straight up. I gunned the engine for all it was worth to try and get enough momentum to make it up the hill. Almost a mile in to the climb, the side of the road disappeared and all you could see down was a straight drop down and in the distance the towns and highway we had just left. One wrong turn and we would have been headed in the wrong direction but quick, straight down.

The engine labored and made sounds I have never heard come from a vehicle. Off to the right there stood a sign, stating we had just entered Macon County. All that crept into my mind was this old movie called Macon County Line or something to that effect. It was about some back woods sheriffs and the dastardly deeds they did to the town folk. Naaaa, that couldn’t be really true.

Taking a sharp right turn around yet another jagged cliff, the hill seemed to get even steeper. You could not see anything ahead of you, as the road became  less then one lane wide. If another car came around the bend there was no way to avoid a head on. The truck was slowing down and we crawled up the mountain at 5 mph. My worst fear was now coming to pass. The engine could no longer support any power to continue. There we were stuck on a blind bend in the road, near the top of this huge ass mountain, stopped dead. I put the brakes on, the parking brakes and had the guys quickly chock the wheels so the truck could not start backwards. I needed some time to figure out what to do. What do you do???

Ten minutes had passed and the only thing that came into my mind was to unhook the trailer and get the truck up to the top. But I couldn’t just leave the trailer blocking the one lane road. I was lost, tired, stunk and now stuck.

The one thing I was pretty sure on, no one was going to be coming down this road. It seemed as though we were in the middle of no where and in the back of my mind I could hear the theme from Deliverance.  30 minutes had now passed and we were all starting to freak out. I decided to do my best and try and back the truck and the trailer down the hill over 5 miles straight down. Remember I stated I have never towed anything much larger then a small U Haul trailer.

This behemoth was about to test my abilities. With the guys at each end of the rear of the trailer, just far enough so I could see them give me hand directions I started to slowly back down the road. The smell of the brakes soon over took the inside of the cab and has hard as I could, the trailer had a mind of it’s own and I literally came less then 12 inches of it plunging over the cliff. I again braked and chocked the wheels. NO power to go forward, no road left to back up.

I never thought I would be happy to see a Police car in my life, and that is exactly what happened. It was a black and white vehicle that looked like it came right out of the movies. It must have been at least 15 years old. I don’t know why but all of a sudden this huge panic attack over took me, could this be an omen?

The two officers approached and yelled to me to stay in the truck. A grim and menacing face they both possessed and did as I was told. It seemed they wanted nothing to do with either of the guys with me. They headed directly to me.

“What the fuck are you doing boy” spit out the fatter cop.

As I started to explain, I could see it was going in one ear and out the other.

“Where the fuck are you from and why are you blocking the goddamn road? “

As soon as I started to utter a word, shaking profusely, the other cop said to get the hell out of the truck. He said to his partner.

“I think we got us a wise ass Yankee here.”

I had to be in a dream, no way was this happening. It was so surreal and knew I would wake up as I usually do, when I am in the midst of a nightmare.

Before I knew it, the fat one had me pinned against the truck and reached for his handcuffs.

“Officer what did I do wrong ?” I pleaded

NO words were exchanged, he made sure the cuffs were tight and digging into my hand. Before I could say another word, they both stuck their hands into my pockets and started taking everything out and shooting it onto the ground. Being from New York I was ready to start shouting how I have rights and they have no cause or right to do what they were doing. But I kept my mouth shut, for some reason I don’t think they cared one damn bit about my rights.

I told them they could search everything and would find nothing wrong. That I had read the directions wrong and ended up here and that our destination was Mazzard, KY to do a fair. This made them even more anxious and started to go through the truck and my wallet.

After what seemed like an hour and destroying the inside of the truck they could find nothing. A calm fell over me and thought surely now they can see I was being honest and would help me get out of the situation.

As I stood there quiet, the fat cop picked up my black magic marker and said what do we have here. I said to him it was just what is seemed, a pen. He asked me if it was mine and of course I said yes. As soon as I got the word out of my mouth he started to unscrew the bottom of the fat marker and smile. Well son if this is your pen then this must be your pot also.

“What????? “I stammered

I glanced over to my two driving companions who looked as though they swallow a lump of a shit. The pen I would find out later was theirs as was the ingredients that was stuffed into the pen.

Grabbing my arm, before I knew it I was in the back seat of this old cop car and being told I was taking a trip to the Macon County jail.

Day two and I am now in jail, tired, stinking, confused, lost and any other adjective you can think of. After the cuffs were removed and I was put in a small single jail cell. They removed my belt and shoe laces and said to me to keep my  mouth shut.

I glanced over to the cot that was to be my new bed and above the stained toilet seat was a previous cell mates declaration, that must have been chipped into the concrete. It said Your A Loser……………

6rsbhwe37j

Short URL: http://man-over-board.com/?p=1939

Posted by Eric on Sep 19 2009 Filed under TRAVEL. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. You can leave a response or trackback to this entry