Snow Storm in Atlanta

Picture courtesy: mtbearded1s.blogspot.com

Originally posted 12/21/2005
by Douglas Lewis
It wasn’t a bad day in Carolina; not really bad anyway. A good thing too: I didn’t want to go to work -after the great time I’d had with Anne Stuart the night before - making-up for too much time away from home
I’d never been in the habit of checking the weather before departing on a run, and my boss didn’t let anybody off for the weather anyway, ‘lessen he couldn’t get in to the office to tell you to go. We were scheduled for an early afternoon departure. It was a little gray and crispy on the way over to the terminal and I still hadn’t recovered from the R&R. That’s why the new co-driver took the first shift, so I could get some more sleep. We introduced each other and I crawled into the sleeper while he checked the equipment.
About three hours later my co-driver shook me awake and said “I don’t wanna drive anymore.” “Okay, where are we?” I asked sleepily, but he didn’t know. He had turned off on a frontage road alongside the interstate. He didn’t want to drive because of the snow falling around us. Since the interstate was in sight only about a quarter of a mile off to our right, I took the wheel without further questions and got back on the highway at the next interchange.
Sure, it was snowing a little, and it began blowing across the road a bit, so we cruised along at a leisurely thirty-five. Wasn’t any point in stopping – then we’d be there all night and miss our appointment in San Diego.
As we drove, the snow began accumulating alongside and on the highway. Pretty soon we were driving on snow, hard-packed from traffic ahead, none of which was in sight. As we crested a rise and began a short descent, I noticed a revolving blue light suddenly attempt to cross the snow-filled median at the bottom. It didn’t make it. I knew it wasn’t a K-Mart and flipped-up the high-beams despite the thickening snow.
There was a tractor-trailer stretched sideways from the median to the guardrail all the way across the two southbound lanes. Past the guardrail was nothing but empty space. The blue light was stuck in the snow ahead of the rig.
Of course I tried the brakes. I saw the reflection of the brake lights in the snow behind the trailer. Even gently applied, the trailer wheels broke loose and about 60,000 pounds of trailer and cast-iron began to cross the lane beside me and catch up with the front of the tractor.
That darkened semi ahead of us started closing in very quickly. The guy in the buddy seat screamed and lunged for the trailer brake on the doghouse which, luckily, I already had a grip on, anticipating that he would go for it and jackknife the rig for sure.
There were only two options here and I didn’t like either one of them: either go through the trailer stretched across the road; or go thru the guardrail, ‘cause stopping wasn’t going to happen.
There was only about an eighth of an inch of aluminum to protect me from the trailer that the cab-over would hit (and God knows what was in the trailer before us). Only three or four ‘one-eighths’ of an inch of aluminum lie between us and a load of heavy cast-iron pipe and fireplugs lying unsecured on the floor of the trailer behind us (at least mostly behind us).
That ruled out option one.
I committed my future to the fates as we were running out of space and time so I cranked the wheel of the big Pete over to the right just in time to find a hole between the back of the blocking trailer and the guardrail. Our trailer was still re-aligning with the tractor but it straightened-out enough to make it through without hitting, so I pulled her down into a lower gear, got back onto the highway and drove on out of the snowstorm. By the time we got to Atlanta, the snow was easing off and I turned it back over to the co-driver, who had decided that I was ‘OK’ in his book.
If it hadn’t been for the blue light, you wouldn’t be reading this story. This happened probably around the winter of 1980 or so.

Defining Safety In The Trucking World

trucksafetyexpert.com

Today’s feature is a guest post by Jeff Head. He makes some very good points and observations about the current “safety culture” training practiced by most trucking companies and what the “effectiveness” of this training is in the real world of a professional truck driver. Thanks for the piece, Jeff and a link to his Facebook page follows if you would like to friend him.
Today's Thoughts By Jeff Head 7/28/12 Defining Safety In The Trucking World

"You be safe now" I hear once again as I turn and walk out the door. A pleasant way to say good-bye to someone but I think that if I hear that just one more time, I'm going to scream. It's not that I do not believe in being safe out here in my big truck. No, that’s not it. It is the fact that no matter how many times I am told that particular phrase, some clown comes along and dang near kills me and them and everyone else around. Guessing no one told "them" to be safe as they turned and walked out the door today.

So, what is safe or maybe, the question should be how do you teach someone to be safe? Can you force safe thinking upon some one? Any trucker worth their salt can tell you that the FMCSA thinks they can sit up there behind a desk and regulate safety by makeing new regulation after new regulation. However, even after all their hard, well-intentioned work; people are still dying out here on the highways. We all know the crazy stuff we see from all kinds of drivers as they interact with each other out here in the real world.

Well, as you may have guessed by now, I have my opinion as to what makes a safe driver. It is something that I picked up from a business article I read somewhere years ago. You can teach and you can preach a job or in this case, safe driving to drivers until their eyes roll back in their heads and all you will accomplish is making them fall asleep in class. It will do absolutely no good at all unless they as an individual want to do the job or be a safe driver. You can force people into many things, but if their heart is not into it, they will simply go through the motions and the outcome will never be the same as a person that has dedicated him or herself to the job at hand.

This is why many believe that there should be a certain criteria as to who can become a truck driver. And why many believe that the FMCSA themselves are actually doing more harm than good with their relentless never-ending regulation after regulation trying to solve the problem. Even companies that give repeated safety class after repeated safety class if you watch as you sit through them, will have drivers that have seen this same out dated material for years, just sitting there rolling their eyes and wishing they were back out there on the road making some miles.

Nope, the way I see it you can educate and regulate until the sun goes down every day. But unless you can figure out how to make people want to be a safer driver, I mean really straight from their heart make it their passion in life to be safe, all we will end up with is a bunch of drivers going through the motions of being safe. They will simply say or do whatever it takes at the moment to get them through and then walk out the door and do what it takes to get the job done.

The answer to all this is realize that with so many different drivers out here, there has to be many different avenues to reach them. To make them actually want to be safe. Some will respond to the heavy handed repeated reminders from safety classes and over regulation. Other will just roll their eyes to these tactics and go about life in their own way. Continued lectures will only serve to make them reject the classes and come to the understanding that they are being treated in a disrespectful way. That their time and effort out on the highway for so many years means nothing to anyone.

I think recognition from the powers that be would work better. These drivers need to know, that after showing years of safe driving; that their efforts have been noticed and appreciated. This I think would work better than sitting them in a class with a person that just entered the industry learning their ABC's like a big dummy once again. I see this as disrespectful and humiliating. Let their time and efforts over the years be put up in a place of honor and you will find that in their hearts, they will want to be a safer driver. That drivers from all categories will have a goal to work for as they gain years in the industry, a standard that they can be proud to meet and a want within themselves to be a safer driver.

Only the want to do the job, to be safe will create a safer environment out on the highway. Keep beating these drivers down and that want will never come.

https://www.facebook.com/jeff.head.90

If you’re not burned out on Brett Favre stories, Bob Wolfley of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel had an interesting column with excerpts from Warren Sapp’s autobiography “Sapp Attack”. Sapp and Favre used to trash talk each other back when Tampa and Green Bay were in the same division and played each other twice per season. Link to the article follows.

Sapp recalls his running-at-the-mouth rivalry with Packers' Favre

By Bob Wolfley of the Journal Sentinel
July 28, 2012
Former Tampa Bay Buccaneers defensive tackle Warren Sapp says in his autobiography, "Sapp Attack," that his rivalry with Packers Brett Favre, which both players fostered and which football fans giddily embraced, began in the last game of the 1999 season, a game Tampa Bay won, 29-10.
Sapp said early in the contest he hit Favre, forcing him to fumble.
"That ball was bouncing around on the ground, and I held him down on the ground so he couldn't grab it," Sapp writes in the book which he wrote with David Fisher and is to be published next month. "There was nothing he could do but watch it bounce away from him. And maybe while I was holding him down I pushed his helmet down into the turf a little bit too. OK, maybe I pushed him a lot."
According to Sapp, Favre was angry he lost the ball and tried to put his hands on Sapp, who slapped them away.
"After I took a few steps he screamed at me, ‘Hey, big boy, how much you weigh? The program says 276.’ I stopped and turned around to face him. ‘That was when I checked into camp last July. I weighed 307 last Thursday. Why do you want to know?’
"This is on the field, you understand, with the entire stadium standing and screaming, thinking we were going to go at it," Sapp says. "Favre smiled at me and boasted, ‘ ’Cause I think I can outrun you,’ he said. ‘Oh, don't worry none,’ I told him, ‘You're gonna get a real good chance to try.’ "
Sapp recalls hitting Favre so hard once in that game Favre’s "shadow decided to retire." Favre was face down on the field and turned to look up. Sapp grinned and said: ‘Who you think it is?’ Favre replied: 'You got to love it, big boy.’ "
Sapp recalls another game against the Packers when he was walking to the sideline before the end of the third quarter.
"I heard someone shout after me, ‘That's right Sapp, go take a blow.’ Excuse me? I turned around, and he had this big grin on his face. I said, ‘You talking to me?’ He got right up in my face. ‘Where you going, fat boy? We're just getting started.’ "
Sapp says he could not understand at first why Favre talked so much to him because he "wasn’t used to being challenged on the field, especially by a quarterback. Quarterbacks are the piñatas of sports; far as I’m concerned their only job is to be hit.
"Most offensive players don't do much talking," Sapp writes. "I don't know why, maybe they're not smart enough. But the fact is that Favre started this dialogue between us."
Sapp says he realized then Favre "was just like me" because he liked to compete, have fun and banter.
Packers center Frank Winters did not like Favre trash talking Sapp, according to Sapp.
He says Winters "practically ordered Favre" to stop talking because Winters had to block Sapp.
"I absolutely know he said that because Favre told me he did," Sapp writes. "Naturally I had to share that information with (Winters). . . . from that moment on I always made it a point of saying something loud to Favre. Knowing how angry it made Winters made it even more fun."
Sapp claims "it was Favre's wife (Deana) who finally made him stop talking to me because she was afraid he was just getting my engines going, that eventually he was going to get hurt. In my memory I believe that was about the time I started complimenting Brett about that lovely dress he was wearing."
Sapp says the "biggest penalty that I know for absolute certain the officials missed" took place in a game against the Packers. At the end of the first half, Brad Culpepper chased down Favre on a second a long as Green Bay was Green Bay was trying to move into field goal range. Culpepper stopped Favre short of the first-down marker and the two tumbled out of bounds.
"But next thing I knew the Packers called a timeout and reserve quarterback Doug Pederson was jogging into the game," Sapp writes. Pederson threw an incomplete pass and the Packers had to punt.
Sapp asked Culpepper what happened that forced Favre out of the game. Culpepper "had this devious little smile" and said he had ripped off one of Favre shoes. When the play was over he walked over and flipped it into the stands. The officials didn’t see it and Favre had to leave the game to get a new shoe.
Sapp reports he sacked Favre 11 times in his career "more than any other quarterback as well as the most times he was sacked by a single player."
Winters, according to Sapp, was the best center he faced in term of his ability to draw defensive lineman offside.
"He'd move the ball, he'd fake snap it, he'd spin the ball, everything just barely legal," Sapp says. "Every single time he snapped the ball he would do the same move, maybe raise his head an instant before he actually snapped it, and eventually we would notice it and start looking for it. But late in a game, when five yards really mattered, he'd make that same move - only the ball would still be sitting there. Whistle! Flag! Where you going so fast Sapp? And Frankie would stand there smiling as innocent as Jack the Ripper."
Sapp admits he hated playing football in cold weather.
"The warmer it was the happier I was," he says. "A man works in the good Lord’s sun. That’s the way it is supposed to be."
He says "when the schedule was published I’d look at it, and if we were playing Green Bay or Chicago in December I’d be dreading it for months."
He recalls a game at Lambeau Field when the temperature was the coldest he ever played in, minus-11 with the wind chill.
"Before the game started I went up to the referee and handed him four hot pockets," Sapp writes. "I told him, ‘We got to work together today because it is cold out here. Keep these in your pockets, and when I ask you for one, you hand it over. If you’re busy just tell me to wait, but when I need my hand, I need my hands. This way you’re going to be half warm, and I’m going to be half warm. ‘Warren,’ he said thankfully, ‘We have a deal.’ And it worked just fine."
Sapp recalls another game at Lambeau when the Buccaneers’ charter plane was late and he was unsatisfied with the cold box lunch provided after the game. So he walked into the parking lot where he found a Packers fan outside an RV. Sapp told him he was hungry.
"He opened a pack of brats, pulled out a cooler and a six pack, and set up some chairs," Sapp says. "It didn’t bother him that I played for the Bucs. He was a football fan. And, fortunately, a bratwurst fan."
Sapp alerted some of his teammates to the treasure he had discovered and "they came a-running." Sapp said the fan would not take any money from him for his food.
In 2007, Sapp was playing for the Oakland Raiders. In the 13th game of the season, the Raiders played the Packers. Sapp writes he decided to retire from football after a particular play in that game when he was up against Daryn Colledge.
"I had to look up his name," Sapp says about Colledge. "I came off the ball at the snap. Man, this young fellow jumped on my chest, grabbed me, shook me, and hitched up with me. Meanwhile, Favre did his little fake to the running back, dropped back, and cocked his arm. I was in full lock-up mode. I couldn't get this kid off me. I watched Favre let it go, and Greg Jennings caught it for an 80-yard touchdown. The kid was still holding me. Finally I said to him, 'Would you let me go now, young fella?' He did.
"That was the one play that let me know it was time," Sapp writes. "I knew the play. I had the snap count. I had a good get-off, and I had no move for an inexperienced kid."
(Photo credits: Top, Journal Sentinel, Nov. 24, 2002 at Tampa Bay; Middle, Journal Sentinel, Nov. 12, 2000 at Tampa Bay; Lower, Journal Sentinel, Nov. 16, 2003 at Tampa Bay.)
http://www.jsonline.com/blogs/sports/164125156.html#!page=1&pageSize=10&sort=newestfirst

Panic- Don't Do It Behind the Wheel!

One of the happiest days of my life was the day I got my drivers license at 16 years of age. I had practically lived on a bicycle before in the preceding years and was so eager to have the freedom to drive. My buddy and I were young teenage car fanatics and couldn’t wait to get on the road.
The first time I took my road test, being was so eager to get it over with, I was flunked for speeding! My father had brought me over to take the test and let me use the family car, a 1957 Chrysler New Yorker. He was definitely not amused and told me on the way home that if I flunked the next road test, I would be waiting until 18 before trying it again! After the mandatory wait, I took the road test again in a week or two and passed.

So that’s how my lifetime of driving adventure began. Slowly, my parents allowed me more freedom and I got to use the car more frequently. I got my license in early November, as winter was beginning to set in. One day, I had my buddy, Tom and brother, Russ in the car and we were going somewhere. It had been snowing lightly and the streets were beginning to get a little slippery. Although I didn’t have much experience driving on snow, my mother had taken my brother and I a couple of times late at night when there was a fresh, snow covered store parking lot and (after the store closed) let us take turns sliding the car around in the snow to get the feel of how it handled. Since then, I’ve always thought that a driver training program for new drivers should always include some kind of skid pad experience. That would definitely be of help for young drivers but, as I found out, not a guarantee of staying accident free.

Being still immature and overconfident (also trying to impress my passengers), I was driving down the street going a little fast for the prevailing conditions. As we approached a stop sign to make a right turn, there was a vehicle in front of us stopped at the sign. After applying the brakes to stop, the wheels locked up and we were sliding straight for the vehicle ahead. I had neglected to see that there was a stretch of ice underneath us coming up to the stop sign. My foot was jammed on the brake pedal as were sliding closer and closer, about to have a collision. My first reaction was panic, as I jammed on that brake pedal for all it was worth. Thankfully I had a second or two to think and realize what I was doing was not working. I was trying to steer around the car in front, but because the brakes had the steer tires locked up, the car would not turn. I forced myself to let off the brakes and steered the car right around the vehicle, coming to a stop just past the sign, looking quite foolish and very embarrassed, but at least I hadn’t hit the guy!

Because of that extra second to think and react, it taught me a lifelong lesson. Since that day (now 43 years later), I have never panicked while behind the wheel, no matter what situation I have been in. I don’t know if there’s a way to teach someone this, but I think skid pad training and experience handling an out of control vehicle would certainly help.

See last week’s post “Slow Motion Terror Ride with Art” (7/21/2012) for a related experience with another driver.

http://dbridgerhot.blogspot.com/2012/07/slow-motion-terror-ride-with-art.html

corkcork.tumblr.com

Detroit Firefighter Documentary

It's been many years since I've been through Detroit. In fact, the last time I was there was back in the'80s. That city was one of the ugliest, most decrepit places I've ever been. If you have the stomach to watch the 10 minute video above, you can see what it's still like today. All the decades of "social" programs designed by socialist politicians have destroyed this once great city! Can't we see that the entitlement program isn't working? Thank God there are brave firefighters and police officers that keep trying to keep the citizens safe!

Related Post: Milwaukee Gas Station Robbery-The New Normal!

The 1.6 mpg Epiphany!

If you are a struggling owner-operator? I don't know whether I would have the patience for this, but as you can see it does pay off and puts big money in your pocket, if you're diligent. I have always been a company driver and never had an interest in owning my own truck. Thanks for a good piece by Jim Park of truckinginfo.com Link to his blog follows.
6/1/2012
The 1.6 mpg epiphany
On the Road Blog by Jim Park, Equipment Editor

Here's a tale that, if it were from any other industry, might inspire a feel-good feature film. It's about a struggling rookie lease-operator who, as he is driving back to the terminal to hand back the keys, decides to try something different.

Carlos Cruz has been trucking all of three years, yet he's wiser than his time in the trenches might suggest. He's a lease operator working for a nationwide refrigerated truckload carrier. He was six months into a truck-lease program with the carrier and he had concluded what many of his colleagues had warned him about; he couldn't make any money on a lease deal.

"After all the payments had been taken out and the expenses paid, I was left with about $300 a week," he says. "That wasn't enough after all the work I was doing."

It was a hard decision to make, but he had decided to give the truck back and walk away before he got in too deep. He told me that a many drivers had warned about such programs, and all the while, he watched and talked to other owner-operators going up and down the road, seemingly doing pretty well for themselves. He wondered, if those other guys are making money, why wasn't I? 

Cruz wasn't just sitting there hanging on to the steering wheel. He says he listened to many of the trucker shows on SiriusXM radio so he can learn more about the industry, paying particular attention to Kevin Rutherford's program about how to truck more profitably. He admits, however, that he wasn't putting everything he heard into practice. Sure, he tried progressive shifting. He checked his tire pressure fairly regularly, but his measly $300 take home pay just wasn't cutting it. 

So, on what was to be his last trip, a return load right to the terminal, he decided to try, really try, everything he was hearing about on the radio. He'd run that trip many times before so he had some benchmarks, and low and behold, when he fueled up in the yard, he'd burned considerably less fuel than on previous trips. In fact, he'd gained a mile per gallon, which is an astronomical improvement in fuel economy terms. 

Buoyed by his accomplishment, he decided to give it another 60 days.

Today, he worries about his engine's torque curves, whether he's running too much pressure in his tires, and whether using cruise control or good old fashioned right-foot throttle management is the best way to save fuel.

"I'm a changed man," he told me over the phone. "I know I can make money here now, maybe not a lot of money, but certainly enough to get by comfortably. These lease deals don't pay that great, but if you manage it right, there's more than enough left over at the end of the week."

6.21 mpg to 7.85 mpg in 30 Days 

That's right, at least as Cruz tells it. His fuel mileage went from the low 6s to the high 7s in just one month. A 1.6 mpg improvement that more than quadrupled his net revenue. Cue the big orchestral arrangement and the majestic scenery. 



So, what's his secret? The biggie was slowing down from 65 to 55 mph. He neveridles, he's a progressive shifting machine, and he's forgotten where the cruise control switch is. 

"I found with the cruise control, it was always powering me up the hills like it wanted to get to the top as fast as possible," he notes. "Now I use the throttle and watch the rpm so I can take advantage of the torque the engine makes. Sometime have need to drop a gear, but if I think I can get over the top without a downshift, I'll lug it and let the engine work a little harder." 

At this point his engine may actually not be delivering optimum efficiency. At 55, he says he's running about 1,270 rpm, which is actually a little low, considering the torque curve of the engine. He's close to the lower end of the curve, and that requires more frequent downshifts. 

"Now I'm experimenting with different speeds going into a hill," he says. "It seems that hitting a rolling hill at 58 rather than 55 gets me further up the hill before I need to downshift, and sometimes I don't need to downshift, so a little extra speed may actually help in some cases." 

Nothing has really changed since he slowed down except his fuel economy, he says enthusiastically. "I thought it would take me longer to get where I was going, but it doesn't make much difference at all. I stop a little less often, and I watch a lot of guys pass me, but I've never been late on a load because I drive slower." 

9 mpg? Really?

We had the good fortune to 'meet' when Cruz emailed me about the Cascadia Evolution story we posted on May 30, where Freightliner says the truck averaged 9.31 mpg on a cross-country trip -- averaging 62 mph. He was incredulous. He was already doing the math. That's almost 1.5 mpg better than his hard-earned 7.85 mpg. And a far cry from his former 6.2 mpg. 

"What if I ran a truck like that at 55 and do everything I do now?" he speculated. 

We talked on the phone for nearly an hour and he sounded like a kid looking in a toy store window. We talked about tires and torque and aerodynamics and best driving practices and all sorts of stuff. He was tapping me for everything I know, and I think mostly he was trying to figure a way to push his mileage up closer to 9 mpg.

Here was a guy, a relatively new driver, who had discovered the key to success was discipline and little bit of study. It was like he had a new lease on life, upping his fuel mileage and his net revenue. He'd made the connection between the two, and he's not going to give up getting better.

It was an inspiring conversation.
 http://www.truckinginfo.com/on-the-road/news-detail.asp?news_id=77113&news_category_id=123

Road Trips: Ode to the Road in an RV

Nice story about some Canadian friends renting an RV and going on a road trip in Canada. Link to their site follows.
Iris Benaroia  Jul 21, 2012 – 7:00 AM ET | Last Updated: Jul 20, 2012 1:50 PM ET
After the water from the dogs’ dishes splashes across the floor for the ninth time, we learn the first Newtonian rule of RV travel: An object in motion stays in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force.
In our case, the force is created by a Coachmen Leprechaun Class C motorhome. She’s no lady. On crummier roads, the 30-foot-long apartment on wheels reels and rocks, its contents jangling so intensely it’s like Godzilla is shaking the vehicle.
“Immobilize the apples!” I yell above the clamour, as fruit poltergeists through the cabin.
Two weeks ago, I loaned the RV through Go RVing Canada at a dealership called Motor Home Travel in Bolton, Ont., with a plan to explore Ontario over one week; an idea that emerged, as these shenanigans often do, over several bottles of pinot grigio with my boyfriend, Massimo, and our friends, Alex and Jeff.
“It’ll be like Breaking Bad, minus the meth,” I say. “We’ll get a pimped-out RV.”
Massimo’s 80-pound Thai Ridgeback, Rocky, and Alex and Jeff’s Wheaten Terrier, Mishka, will also come along for the ride, despite their vastly different agendas: Rocky is drawn to air-conditioning and king-size mattresses while Mishka, in her pink Martha Stewart collar, likes parties and the outdoors. They would never hook up in a personals ad.
We map out a counterclockwise circle of Ontario starting in Bolton. Then to Huntsville, with a stay in Algonquin Park and Grundy Lake in French River country, through  Sudbury, Espanola and across Manitoulin Island to South Baymouth, where we (and the RV) hop the ferry Chi-Cheemaun — that’s “big canoe” in Ojibwa — for three nights in Tobermory. The undisputed highlight of the trip. The route back will take us through Wiarton, Sauble Beach and Southampton.
Among many, there’s a notion RV travel is for hard-up hillbillies and gypsies — to the contrary. The Leprechaun’s quarters are kitted out with a kitchen, shower, toilet, table and sleeping accommodations for eight. Jeff and Alex recommend bringing your own padding for the bunk over the driver’s zone: “My back would have been a mess without my memory foam,” Jeff says, after the first night.
As the days pass, we perfect a rapid ritual: unplug RV, throw chairs in back boot, go. The best thing about this style of travel is it allows you to rough it in the bush on your own terms. You can enjoy the woods and the lake, but there’s no waking up in a hot sticky tent or animal-style squat releases on dirt. And in the 30C heat, who isn’t grateful for ice for frosty margaritas and air-conditioned nights on real beds?
But like any “house,” the RV needs regular attention. For juice, it must be plugged in at the camp or operates on a generator. And one (the boys, in our case) must dispose of the human waste through a hose that runs into the ground. Ditto filling the water tank.
“I’ve just discovered the poo stop is the water cooler of the RV universe,” Massimo says, standing next to a sign to mind the baby fox at Rock Lamp camp in Algonquin. “I talked with this couple ahead of us from Hamilton about our rig,” he says. “They like it, but they say many parks can’t accommodate rigs over 27 feet.” (Who knew?)
Liquids flushed and filled, we leave Algonquin’s birches, pines and bedrock and memories of steaks over an open fire, divine cherry danishes we bought in Huntsville at Henrietta’s Pine Bakery, and canoe rides for our next step: Grundy Lake.
On Highway 69, we pass cryptic country graffiti —“the Soo Crew,” “Burt and Sheila 4ever,” “Yevan 2007” and a moose. But the scenery changes at the White Birch campground.
Divided into forest pods, the lots at this national park are more private than at Algonquin, with tall thickets to cradle campsites and the wildlife, bald eagles, bears and chipmunks.
Barefoot children ride bikes and people roam in whispered tones. Some families, such as the Treachers from St. Catharines, spend months in the bush, sequestered in an elaborate set-up with carpets and dining zones.
The next day, rapid ritual complete, we go north in Bruce County. Just when I think I’ve become an expert camper, who has seen my share of nature, our vacation veers into foreign territory. How is it I knew nothing of Toberymory’s breathtaking Flowerpot Island with its towering shale formations and sea caves? Or the postcard-perfect marina, Little Tub harbour, dotted with local whitefish-and-chip stands, colourful clapboard cottages and boats named Mamie? The former’s turquoise waters look like Aruba’s. The latter feels like Maine.

After pulling into camp, a privately owned affair called the Village of Tobermory where the firewood is delivered by golf carts to your RV by a family member, and a petting zoo and pool is ideal for those with children, we drop off the rig.

On the first day, we take the Bruce Anchor boat to Flowerpot Island. It’s glass so you can see the sunken shipwrecks beneath the sparkling water. There are more than 22 and several historic lighthouses, our guide Mark, a friendly sailor dude with a sunburned nose, tells us. Also the 490-acre island, part of the Fathom Five National Marine Park, has the largest concentration of orchids in North America, and a springy bright green moss terrain so perfect, it looks like a film set.
Out of the forest, Massimo and I unpack sandwiches and pour wine into cups on a rock. Our spread is next to one of the flowerpots (there are two) — those would be the shale formations on its eastern shores. “How does a kid from Toronto not have these amazing structures seared into his brain so that they appear every time somebody mentions the word Tobermory?” Massimo asks.
It’s true, and I wonder why images of this bit of the Bruce Peninsula aren’t as iconic as, say, shots of Niagara Falls.
Nevertheless, tourists know of it. The next day, we go on a 20-minute forest hike in Cyprus Lake Provincial Park hearing German, Spanish and Japanese. There’s a clearing, then paradise. The view is straight out of the Caribbean: turquoise water and cliffs. (The grotto itself is a magical cave with pristine water.)
I park myself on the limestone rock, with the rest of the people in bathing suits on this 35C day. “Can you believe this? Get in here!” Alex yells, dripping wet in a bikini by the shore.
Uncharacteristically, the dogs have finally sobered. Rocky is as still as a concrete lion, staring at the scuba divers jumping off a boat into the water. Even he seems to understand, it is a strange sight to behold in Ontario.
IF YOU GO
RV rentals
Rates vary by season — a July week in the Leprechaun costs $2,300 at Motor Home Travel, which offers a variety of vehicles with slide-outs for extra space and handy back-up cameras. On pick-up day, they give you a half-hour tutorial and a detailed binder with phone numbers, photos and troubleshooting tips. We were quickly helped on the road after our A/C wouldn’t turn on following a tripped breaker. Visitmotorhometravel.comor call 416-743-4155 for more information.
Where to stay
There are 450 independently owned and operated campgrounds and RV parks in Ontario. Most offer laundry facilities. We were amazed by how clean the showers were and that they were private. It’s important to reserve a spot early to snag a prime location by the waterfront. For sites, see Go RVing Canada.Campsites cost $25 to $55 per night and are a nature-lover’s dream, where you can rent an hourly canoe, kayak or paddleboat and see loads of wildlife. We stayed at these two public parks: Algonquin Provincial Park, Rock Lake campground (visit algonquinpark.on.ca for more information) and Grundy Lake (visit Ontarioparks.com and follow the links or call 705-383-2286 for more information).
We also spent three nights at Tobermory Village Campground, a quaint, family-owned affair with a splashpad, pool and petting zoo. Taxi service to town costs $10. Visittobermoryvillagecampground.com or call 519-596-2689.
Where to eat
Lucky you, an RV is equipped with a fridge. We stocked up at Costco, barbecuing most of the time, except for these stops:
• Spencer’s Tall Trees in Huntsville has an old-world feel, with simple classics such as terrific pan-seared pickerel with a yummy maple butter sauce. Grandview, a 40-year-old family resto in Tobermory, has upmarket fare (our favourite was the calamari puttanesca), a great wine list and a killer view of the water from their flower-filled patio.
• On our way back, we stopped at the Elk & Finch in Southampton, sampling pastry chef Marjorie Sawyer’s incredible desserts. Best: ooey-gooey caramel tart.
Go RVing Canada
Need a rig? This friendly association whose cute tagline is “the best things in life RV” offers advice for RVers, new or seasoned. Visit GoRVing.ca or call 1-866-470-3828 for more information.
Travel support provided by Go RVing Canada
Posted in: Life, Travel  Tags: Road Trips
http://life.nationalpost.com/2012/07/21/road-trips-ode-to-the-road-in-an-rv/

IRIS BENAROIA

ibenaroia@nationalpost.com

Slow Motion Terror Ride with Art!

Me on the left with Ken on the forklift!

Back in the 90’s, before Lowes bought them out, one of our customers was Eagle Hardware and Garden, a chain of home improvement stores based in Seattle. We had a contract to do the curbside home delivery of building materials and appliances to their customers.

The delivery trucks that we used were day cab tandem axle tractors pulling 32 foot curtain-sided flatbed trailers. Attached to the back of the trailers were forklift trucks that were needed to offload lumber and building materials to the curb.
As you can imagine, with the 8,000 pound weight of a forklift hanging off the back, these trucks handled very poorly in wet or slippery conditions! Especially if you didn't have a load on the trailer. Because we also delivered and set up appliances for Eagle's customers in their homes, we had a helper along with a driver on each truck.

One winter day, one of the helpers was sick so I had to ride along with Art, who was a regular driver for us servicing customers of the four Eagle stores in the Salt Lake City area. We went to a store in the morning, loaded up and proceeded to make the local deliveries scheduled for that day. There was a snow storm forecast to be moving in that afternoon, so we wasted no time in trying to get our deliveries completed. Our last stop of the day was a few miles north of Salt Lake in a fancy neighborhood located on the “benches” of the Wasatch mountain range. There were some pretty steep hills in the area and it took awhile to find the address. As we were inside the house doing an appliance setup for the customer, it began snowing. After finishing up, we went outside to find the streets and sidewalks covered with an inch or so of the white stuff.
We got in the truck and with Art driving, we started to make our way out of the neighborhood and back to the freeway. We turned a corner and were suddenly headed down a very steep hill on a residential street that was not very wide, lined with trees and mailboxes and a couple of parked cars.

Although we were only doing a couple of miles an hour, we both seemed to sense it at the same time. The weight of the forklift on the back was actually starting to push the trailer sideways! We both looked out the mirrors at the same time and Art proceeded to take action while I started looking for something to hang on to! Of course the first thing he tried was the brakes and counter-steering, but immediately, he knew that was just going to jack knife us. So he came off the brake and floored the throttle. I was looking out the mirror and the truck was starting to straighten out but now our speed was picking up and it was a long way to the bottom of the hill. As soon as he could get straight, Art jammed on the brakes trying to scrub off speed until the trailer started coming sideways again, only this time to my side. Floor throttle again, straighten out and hit the brakes! I was hanging on wondering which tree or mailbox and how many we were going to take out when I look a little further up and Holy Crap! There’s a minivan full of kids with a woman driving it, coming towards us! I look out the mirror again and see the trailer coming to Art’s side again. I'm thinking "Oh God, we’re going to take out the minivan"! 

Everything seemed to be going in slow motion. I remember having the thought “How are we going to explain this?”

Art mashed the throttle again and the trailer straightened out just enough to get by that poor woman. She was stopped and I'll never forget the look of terror on her face with her mouth wide open as we went by. Finally, the hill started to level out and Art was able to make a left turn as we were sliding through an intersection! During the whole ordeal, we never said a word to each other (I certainly wasn't going to distract him!).

After he got the rig under control, I practically punched him on the arm and asked him where the “heck” he learned to drive like that? His response was that he was an old log hauler and had to handle trucks coming out of the woods on slippery and hilly trails. I've always considered myself to be a skillful driver but that was one fancy piece of driving he did that afternoon. 

I think that there is very few that could have come out of that without an accident! I don't know if I could have. Tip of the hat to Art Malcolm!

Goatman Roaming Utah's Mountains!

Thanks to Fox 13 News, Salt Lake City  OGDEN — The photographer who took pictures of what appears to be a man dressed as mountain goat on Ben Lomond peak was identified and has spoke to wildlife officials.

Coty Creighton spoke with FOX 13 about spotting the individual while on a hike last Sunday. He says he snapped the photos as the man with a goat suit was descending the mountain face.

“He was clumsy, working his way down the cliff trying to catch up with the rest of the herd,” said Creighton. “With the binoculars I could clearly see it was a guy dressed up in a homemade goat suit.”

Creighton says the suit was big and furry and the man also wore heavy gloves so he could crawl on his hands and knees.

“Me and Goatman were the only people for miles around,” says Creighton.

Creighton says the man lifted his mask and looked up and saw him and they watched each other for several minutes.

Credit – Imgur: http://i.imgur.com/K5oug.jpg

“He kind of slouched down, like was getting nervous or was feeling really self-conscious,” Creighton said. “He actually got off his hands and knees and sat on the hill for several minutes until he thought I was gone.”

Creighton has been in contact with the Division of Wildlife Services detailing his experience and describing the photos he shot of the man.

DWS says the man is not doing anything illegal, but they are concerned for his safety, as mountain goats can, on rare occasions, be aggressive enough to inflict serious harm. They also worry as hunting season is nears, the individual dressed as a goat could be mistaken for wild game.

Briefs Due Next Month in Federal Hours of Service Lawsuit

Update on the Hours of Service Lawsuit, thanks to J.J. Keller and Associates
Posted June 21, 2012
The United States Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit announced the schedule to submit briefs for the lawsuits challenging the federal hours-of-service (HOS) rules. Briefs are due starting July 24, 2012, followed by replies by October 24, and final briefs by November 21.
Earlier this year, the Court consolidated industry and safety advocate suits despite the fact each were challenging the Federal Motor Carrier Safety Administration (FMCSA) HOS rules on different grounds. Industry asserts the new rules are too restrictive, while safety advocates feel the rules did not go far enough.
Industry’s suit
In a filing with the U.S. Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit, American Trucking Associations (ATA) identified four areas where the recent HOS rule falls short of legal standards for regulatory changes. ATA contends that several aspects of the rule issued by FMCSA are “arbitrary and capricious” and should be overturned.
ATA questioned:

• Changes to the restart provision requiring that it include two consecutive periods between 1 a.m. and 5 a.m.;
• Limits on the frequency with which a driver may use the restart;
• The requirement that a mandatory 30-minute break from driving also exclude all other on-duty activity; and
• Narrowing — without prior notice — certain exceptions to drive-time regulations for local delivery drivers.

Safety advocates' points
Advocates for Highway and Auto Safety, Public Citizen, the Truck Safety Coalition, and two truck drivers filed a lawsuit challenging the new HOS rule. The suit claims that the agency final rule failed to reduce the 11-hour limit on consecutive driving hours to 10 hours, despite the agency’s statement in the proposed rule that “the 10-hour rule is currently FMCSA’s currently preferred option” because it would be most effective in reducing driver fatigue. According to the plaintiffs, although the agency had no data to support its adoption of the longer 11-hour limit in 2004, the agency decided to stand by that mistake even though it comes at the cost of numerous additional fatigue-related crashes.
They also contend that the new final rule fails to eliminate the 34-hour restart provision that encourages cumulative fatigue and allows drivers to exceed weekly driving and work limits. The restart provision, first instituted in 2004, reduces the off-duty time drivers are allowed from 48 or more hours to just 34 hours off-duty after driving up to 70 hours and working more than 80 hours over eight days. The parties claim the changes included in the December 2011 final rule do not prevent the most fatigued drivers, those who work on a schedule of 70 hours of driving in eight-days, from continually using the short and unacceptable 34-hour restart every week, or being required to do so by their trucking company.
The plaintiffs also stated that FMCSA added to the problem of driver fatigue with the new provision that allows truck drivers to sit in the cab of their truck during their 10-hour off-duty rest period instead of sleeping. The plaintiffs believe this will only lead to increased rates of driver fatigue among long-haul drivers who do not have sleeper berths in their trucks.

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J. J. Keller's Log Auditing Services can take the time consuming work off your hands, so you keep up with auditing and stay in compliance.

Former Packers LB John Corker bounces back from drugs, homelessness

Thanks to and written by  ALEX BRANCH  Fort Worth Star-Telegram, Link follows:

Picture: www.star-telegram.com

FORT WORTH, Texas — John Corker, all 6 feet, 7 inches and 280 chiseled pounds of him, attracts plenty of attention at the Salvation Army.
"Is that you?" a homeless man asks, eyeing a photograph of Corker as a linebacker for the Green Bay Packers in 1988, about to lay a hit on quarterback Vinny Testaverde.
Seconds later, a woman stops Corker, but for a different reason.
"Hey, I recognize you," she said. "You used to drive the No. 2 bus!"
Yes, John Corker has done both of those things.
But his real story, the one that defines him, is his battle back from the edge of oblivion.
Corker was once a brash all-America linebacker who set tackling records at Oklahoma State University and played years of professional football.
Today, he is a city bus driver — and a recovered drug user who once lived homeless and hungry.
Corker's large frame is a common sight at the Salvation Army, where he has for years been involved in the church ministry. The facility on East Lancaster Avenue gave Corker shelter after he became stranded in Fort Worth following a drug binge in the mid-2000s.
It's where he found the programs that turned his life around, helped him get a home and a steady job, and stay clean and sober for seven years now.
"People ask me how it felt to be an NFL player who competed at the highest level, and then come live in a homeless shelter," said Corker, 53.
"I tell them it was probably the greatest day of my life."
"John Corker is imposing a personal reign of terror on quarterbacks," a Sports Illustrated journalist wrote about Corker in 1983.
Described as tall, fast and fearless, the Miami native was an all-American at Oklahoma State, where he played from 1976 to 1979. He finished his four years as the school's all-time leading tackler and was named Big Eight defensive player of the year in 1978, the first OSU player to receive the award.
Drafted by the Houston Oilers, he played three seasons in the NFL before moving to the USFL. In 1983, while playing for the Michigan Panthers, he was named the USFL's defensive player of the year. He eventually returned to the NFL, playing in two games for the Packers in 1988.
Corker earned hundreds of thousands of dollars playing pro ball. But the fast-lane lifestyle slowly destroyed him.
Cocaine was the monster on his back.
"I was probably smoking $1,200 (worth of cocaine) a day and playing pro football at the same time," he said. "How my heart didn't burst, I can't tell you that."
In 1994, he played in the Arena Football League, but he eventually found himself out of football, broke and cashing in his $30,000 pension.
He got a hotel room and in one month blew every penny on drugs. He ended up on the streets of Baltimore, eating out of trash bins.
His brother eventually brought him to Texas, where Corker cleaned up long enough to get a job driving tractor-trailers.
Then came the day when, on a trip from Odessa to Dallas to pick up a cargo of electronics, he stopped in Fort Worth to find drugs.
He left the truck near Vickery Boulevard and Tucker Street. That was the last he saw of it.
"Because of my capacity to get high, I couldn't remember where I left the truck," he said. "I was walking around the city of Fort Worth asking people if they'd seen a parked tractor-trailer truck on the side of the road."
With nowhere else to go, Corker wandered into the Salvation Army.
Corker's weight had dropped to a gaunt 185 pounds, and his long legs dangled over the end of his bunk in the men's dormitory.
"I figured I'd blow off a couple days here," he said. "But to be inside from the elements consistently for the first time in years, it gave me the belief that I could do this. I could get my life back."
Corker committed himself to the self-improvement programs and drug counseling.
Salvation Army Lt. Chris Bryant worked at the facility in 2008 and remembers Corker reaching out to other homeless men.
The former linebacker had regained his weight and muscle. He towered over others and commanded attention, Bryant said.
"When you first meet John, he's an intimidating figure," Bryant said. "He could walk up to the guys off the streets and tell them it was time to get their lives in order. They listened to him."
Corker eventually got a job driving buses in Fort Worth, and he has kept it. He rented an apartment in east Fort Worth, where he raises his 4-year-old daughter, Alexis.
"It's all about her now," he said. "She's been the apple of my eye."
Corker serves on the Salvation Army's advisory council and shares his story at Salvation Army events, as well as with other organizations and in public schools.
His life is not always simple, he said. He would like to one day buy a house, but the cost of child care commands a startling chunk of his monthly paycheck.
But he said he looks forward to the future and refuses to dwell on the past.
"I look back over my life now and say I've really been blessed," he said.
"I'm not perfect, but I thank God I'm not where I used to be."
http://www.packersnews.com/viewart/20120718/PKR01/120718063/Former-Green-Bay-Packers-LB-John-Corker-bounces-back-from-drugs-homelessness