Nothing like a random blog post headline to spike the curiosity or suspect the blogger is off his meds or drinking.
No no, reefer madness reference in the neon blinking headline is not about Maine’s current marijuana laws. Being a medical cannabis provider, farmer for a small circle. Leaving the zig zag leaves that look a lot like a tomato plant out of the literary spotlight this morning.
(Safe cracker, intertwined fingers locked, pushed up and out to prepare for whatever does end up being today’s Me In Maine blog post).
Not talking about pot, reefer, those left handed, hand twisted cigarettes in this post.
Fodder for munching on in later posts as they get developed inside the head. To hunt and peck and pour onto blank, bright, bleached 8×10 paper sheets for all to read. With Stranglehold guitar riffs in the background as it spills out online.
Reefer madness about the kind of box that carries product to the market.
The kind of stuff that needs refrigeration, climate control to be worth anything when the semi and box back into the loading docks. With the steady beep beep and then release of air pressure as the brakes lock up. The diesel stops vibrating as the power is killed.
Had a buyer of Maine real estate who has been driving truck for fifty years.
This Me In Maine blog author has covered Maine trucking posts before. It’s advance from train loads to overnight truck hauls to the markets where all the population centers. Of where all the people live outside of rural, removed the vast state of Maine.
This driver with silver hair and the chain drive wallet attached to the belt told me of a load of pizza dough. That the driver forgot about when sleeping off the road fatigue. Forgetting to fuel up the Thermo King reefer.
And as the silenced reefer unit strapped high on the front of the stainless steel ribbed box rested, the pizza pie dough expanded. Kicked into gear.
To the point of pushing out the sides, top skin of the trailer too. Making the box of expansive cargo look like a pregnant, bloated container. Pass the Midol please.
The Maine truck driver finally woke up too late. The ruined load costing this owner operator with a couple extra International semi trucks a big check. With $8100 dollars and no cents scribed on it. That’s a big 10-4. The kind that hurts but is part of trucking.
Like dodging Smokey Bear’s speed traps, DOT roadside inspection, portable scale weights being slid under the axles.
Pass me that log book would you Earl?
Over coffee today fueling up on caffeine this morning at a country corner store, tails of another glad he no longer is owner operator spilled his guts.
Confessing tales of woe on the road when a driver had a trailer wheel bearing break down, get dry, then hot and then causing two outer wheels to spin off.
Flung out into the grassy section down the highway embankment into tall vegetation.
And instead of retrieving the expansive pair of wheels and truck tires, just left them. To RIP. Telling the truck owner, over the truck stop land line phone that he is scared of snakes. Not venturing down the hill like Jack and Jill to fetch the $1000 plus missing pieces of truck and trailer hardware.
Stores about Maine. We try to keep the conveyor belt of human interest tales coming. The inspiration are the neat people of Maine who have very colorful ways. Of describing living, working, playing in Maine.