Category: Life

I am become death…

…destroyer of owls. 

I forgot to mention, a week or so ago I was tootling along, minding my own business, when one of those flat faced owls swooped across the road, noticed me trundling towards him (grammatical ‘him’, couldn’t guess the sex) and instead of carrying on out of my way braked in mid air and started dithering about. I whacked straight into the poor bastard. I was gutted. Not as much as said owl I’ll wager, but pissed right off none the less. Poor little sausage.

That’s a pigeon (don’t care, stupid birds) a suspected bat (bit miffed, I like bats – if it was one) and a lovely fluffy white owl.  According to Chris Packham that’s one of the reasons why they are planting all those trees alongside motorways; so the owl’s hunting glide will be above the level of the traffic.  Eyes like a hawk, ears like a bat, brains like a penis.

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Hill run!

It’s been another eventful week at work to which I will refer in a minute, but as a consequence I didn’t get to bed until 0330 today and didn’t get up until 1305 hours.

By the time I’d had a shower, eaten some toast, let it settle, faffed about, then driven to Bolton it was 1620. I was going to do three laps of the 8 mile sampler run we did a few weeks ago.

Obviously I immediately got lost when I started running. Luckily the summit of the ascent is that huge great mast on top of Winter Hill, so you know for miles around in which direction you should be heading. And the carpark is next to a 265ft chimney, so I was pretty confident I could find my way back as well, which is a bonus.

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Gateshead revisited.

On Monday I turned up at Crewe to the joyous news that I am now on the Gateshead run. This means I have to drive for 50 minutes from Irlam to Crewe, swap trailers then drive to Gateshead (next door to Newcastle upon Tyne.) Right up in the (possibly cannibalistic) North East. Which means I have to drive back (past Irlam,) then around the M60 (Manchester circular motorway) and over the highest motorway in England. In rush hour.

Another brilliant bit of planning.

They then want me to return to Crewe, trailer swap, then back to Irlam.

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Snow!

Last night was bloody focusing. All that bollocks about “the weight of the truck melts the snow”.  Which is why every episode of Ice Road Truckers is 30 seconds long. They start the truck then plunge straight through the melted ice and snow to a watery grave. Clearly I didn’t think that through.

Around Stoke the third lane was snowbound, the middle lane had an inch of compacted snow/ice and the slow lane had two mostly clear tyre tracks. Then all it takes is one want-to-live-forever numpty to slow down to 30 mph and everyone is stuck behind them. Until you’ve had enough and pull out into the middle lane. Then it’s a matter of holding your nerve. Artics are just a ‘unit’ (the cab and 2 or 3 sets of wheels) and a separate trailer. The only thing making it one truck is a ‘pin’ (a 2” round post) on the trailer slotting into the ‘fifth wheel’ (a mechanism to secure the pin) on the unit. So everything rotates around the pin. This means on ice if you accelerate a little too hard the tyres spin and the unit pivots around the pin. That wakes you up. Worse, when you are going down hill you are scared to brake hard in case the trailer pushes the unit into a jack-knife.

One of our trucks was stranded last night as it hit a hill and lost all traction. I was having real issues getting the bloody thing moving in the snow. I had to reverse a trailer into a parking spot in a snowbound yard. It must have took me 8 shunts back and forward to get enough speed up to reverse all the way in. That was only on a slight incline. The other truck was up in the wilds past Bolton.

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