Tag: Driving

  • Finally!

    Hi and a big huzzah!

    Finally passed that bloody test today. Glen, the examiner, was desperate for me to pass, I think if I’d have failed it this time he would have driven for me next go. He was telling me to relax, not panic, then when things got dodgy he was saying ‘not your fault, you’re in your lane, that was his fault’, telling me not to go to pieces as I’d not failed yet, etc.

    Bless him, he really did want me to pass.

    I had a few moments, pinched some of an oncoming lane for a turn when, strictly speaking, I didn’t need to, went into some situations a little too fast, and felt I was overcautious in others, but my new best-mate Glen said it was good enough. I came away with eight minor driver faults, and one of them was for taking a shunt on my reverse manoeuvre (I’d left it a bit tight and thought it was better to take a shunt, and the consequent driver fault, rather than possibly fail the test there and then).

    I have been saying, since my last test, that I can pass it now, that I should get it this time. When I knew I’d only failed on missing a gear and pulling over on a single yellow line, I thought ‘I can do this’.

    Which is all good and well until you get back in the cab. You’ve already failed eight times, an infinity of variables await you and everything is riding on the next fifty minutes as you pull out of the (infeasibly tight) corner from the test centre onto the road.

    Huge gulp, massive deep breath, chi focused, and off we go.

    God it is horrible. The fatalist in me is saying ‘you are never going to pass this’ while I’m so desperate to pass it. You just have to brace yourself for failure whilst trying your damnedest not to. It is truly horrible. The money you are throwing out the window, the doubt that you will ever pass and the knowledge that you’ve invested too much to be able to quit. You have to keep on trying until you pass, be it nine or ninety tests.

    Then when he told me I’d passed…, really there are no words. The emotional overload of joy that is primarily inexpressible relief, it feels like this:, sort of.

    Bloody hell, I’m glad that’s over.

    I felt like my hands were shaking, though they weren’t, and I thought I might need surgery to remove the grin.

    Sent my license off today to have the three penalty points stuck on it (couldn’t send it away before as you have to present your license to take the test) when it gets back I send it off again (with my pass certificate) and when that returns I can start looking for work.

    Which reminds me, I’ll have to get a really good photocopy of my pass certificate in case they keep the original when they upgrade my  license. I think I’ll frame my certificates for in my computer room. Sad, I know, but no one else need see them, and the amount of commitment and anxiety that has gone in to achieving them, well, they will make me happy to see them there.

    So, a mere £5,615 and thirteen tests later, I am a qualified articulated lorry driver. Bargain.

    There’s other stuff afoot, but quite frankly I don’t care. ("If you could squeeze ‘rats ass’ into that sentence it would be perfect." To quote Niles from Frasier)

    Happy/ relieved Bucky.

    Later,

    Buck.

    PS I forgot to mention, when I told Wendy she was obviously delighted, but then admitted she had thought I was never going to pass! There’s supportiveness. She didn’t think I could do it, but encouraged me each time I failed and voiced no dissent when I then put us in another £283 of debt on the credit card by booking another test. If she had put us five grand+ in debt for something I thought she clearly couldn’t do, I don’t know if I’d have been able to do the same.

    Done now, thankfully.

  • Same ol’, same ol’…

    Do I need to say that I failed again?

    Well, I did.

    This time it was two even more incredibly silly things than usual. I did all the hard stuff, the stupidly tight turns, the impossibly small gaps between parked and oncoming cars, etc.

    Then, when he asked me to pull over on the left (to test my ability to pull out into traffic safely) I blew it! Normally they say things like "don’t worry about parking over someone’s drive, we are not stopping for long", so I checked the road ahead, spotted a gap between parked cars on the opposite side (to allow traffic to pass) cleared the bus stop, got between two roads that were joining the one I was on, so as not to obstruct vision or block access, and pulled over. On a single yellow line. Fuck. Fail.

    I didn’t even notice it I was that busy looking for everything else, and I wasn’t looking for it, as I thought the same "we are not stopping" rule would apply. Nope.

    The other one was an aberration, I was crawling up hill, between cars, went to change from fourth to fifth (by flicking a switch up, which puts you into high range gears, making the first gear position your fifth gear) but in flicking, pausing while the box changes ranges, then putting it into fifth, I think I pushed it too far to the left (into the reverse area of the box) and couldn’t find a gear. I tried dropping it back down to fourth, then third, but was stuck in a false neutral. I had to stop for a second, put the handbrake on, release and depress the clutch then start again. Fail!

    Ho hum. Six minor faults. Failed again.

    Still those are things that have never happened to me on test before and should never happen again. If I can pass everything else it is just a matter of time. And money. And indomitable spirit.

    Bollocks.

    Buck.

  • Driving test

    Guess what?

    I failed.

    Again.

    🙁

    Damn and blast! It was even the same route I took last test, I came up to that same painted island, though ‘HA!! I’ll have you this time.’ Then as I went into it, started to steer around it!

    How stupid am I?

    I knew what was coming, was prepared for it, and still did the reflex thing. I mounted the pavement with my trailer wheel, hit myself in the head quite hard, and called myself a fucking stupid prick.

    Which, is not quite the right approach. You are told to be casual about mistakes and hope the examiner has not noticed. I feel he may have noticed that one.

    After that I went to pieces a bit. I made two other (serious) mistakes. I tried to drive through a filter light when the (right turn) green arrow had gone off. I failed my rigid test on the same thing, and swore I’d never get caught out by that again. I stopped the truck, but was sure one of my instructors had said you could carry on if the arrow went off, so started off again. STOP! Red light.

    (Turns out I was getting confused. The instance when you can proceed, is when the filter light goes out, but the lights are still on green. In this instance the green was for straight ahead, the right turn arrow had it’s own red light which was telling all who are not muppets not to try to turn right. Now it makes sense. Better too late than never.)

    The other mistake was my perennial problem: oncoming vehicle, parked car on my side, fag papers clearance, carried on confidently.

    Bad Buck!

    No biker heroics allowed. If there is less than a doors width slow to a crawl, or as the examiner said; ‘I would have held back there.’

    So, three stupid fail marks, all of which I have failed on before. Unbelievable.

    The positives are; the other bit where I failed on that route last time I passed with flying colours. Took both lanes, made it easy for myself, and easily got through the turn. After that I got a tast for hogging both lanes and the tight turns suddenly became very do-able.

    So, I have to slow it right down approaching every situation and not be a dickhead.

    I just need someone of a nagging and nervous disposition to shout at me every time it looks like I’m about to kill myself and all of those around me. I don’t think Wendy is allowed on my test though.

    In other news, I have been kicked out of de-kit now. I am back to being a picker (in grocery/ ambient so far) which is OK by me. I’ve only done two half days and one full day (yesterday) and already I’ve noticed they are giving out the good picks to a select few so the rest of the lads have to struggle to get there target. There is a bonus scheme, so the ones who are getting the good picks are getting up to £80 a week. Those who have the rest of the picks are struggling just to get their basic score.

    Hopefully I won’t be on that shift, and hopefully they are fairer on the other one. I keep telling myself it’s not to be concerned about as it’s just temporary until I get my license. To be honest it the principle of the inequity that rankles.

    I’m not after killing myself for a few quid a week (which is all I would make), but why should some people have it really easy whilst others have to graft all day just to avoid getting taken in the office for under-achievement.

    Come the revolution…

    The other thing to happen this week was the return of Mr Smith at Taekwondo. Apparently he used to take the classes. He has been at it twenty five years and is a fifth dan. He also teaches a class how I think it should be taught.

    Nobody tried to talk over him!

    Rapt, fearful silence and utter concentration.

    Perhaps it is an army thing, but respect and obedience, with a healthy dollop of fear, gets shit done in my books.

    Sadly I think his return was a one off. We were warming up in a wide stance, gripping the floor with our feet and tensed legs (in a style similar to Wing Chun Kung Fu) and the whole class was going through all the basic arm blocks (low, mid section and head blocks). This was warm up. I think I’ve done blocks in two or maybe three of the lessons of the last year. If he was teaching it could be a proper martial art.

    By which I mean a martial art, ie a fighting technique. As it stands it is at best being taught as a sport.

    When I have my new shift pattern (forgot to mention, in changing jobs I will now get every other weekend off, and usually at least one day of the weekend off each week! Woo and indeed hoo! In de-kit we got one weekend off every three weeks, and the other two weeks your days off were in the week.) I am going to check out a local Karate club. It alleges it is not a ‘sport’ form, with it’s style being recognised as about the hardest hitting in Karate. In the history blurb for the website it says that the ethos of the style is that every move has to be combat effective, based on the Samuria thinking of ‘one strike, one kill’.

    All of which sounds exactly what I want from a martial art. I want to continue with the Taekwondo, just do it maybe once a week, because apart from Wushu (which is non-contact, more like gymnastics than fighting, as I understand it) no other martial art places such an emphasis on extreme flexibility and kicks. However. I really wouldn’t like to get in a street fight with it.

    When you get to black belt in any martial art you are going to be able to paste Johny lager lout, but it is far too easy to slip whilst performing an otherwise sublime head kick, in which case Johny and his chums are going to have a right laugh as they kick the shit out of you. Save that shit for competitions.

    So, look into this Karate club. It is right on my doorstep (Google says it 1.8 miles away!) and is hopefully a fighting art. The only factor that I am suspicious about, is after the first month (at £4 a lesson) you have to pay a monthly subscription. As I work 6-2, 2-10, it might mean I am paying double for my lessons (as I won’t be able to attend that often on 2-10). Still, we’ll have to see.

    My final bit of news is my headaches are back. Had one come on yesterday afternoon, knocking me sick by tea time, and staying with me until I went to bed. Today another one has set in from about noon. Bugger.

    I’ll have to look up whether migraines affect your right to hold a HGV license (in the wildly optimistic view that maybe one day I’ll pass the test) if not, go back to the doctor.

    That’s all of my news, but to end on a high, they’ve finally got around to advertising that job Wendy wants (and I think she will get). April my arse! So, if all goes well, (chickens counted) she should be getting paid (for doing the job she has been doing for the last two months) from next month.

    About bleeding time.

    Then it’s just down to me to fulfil my part of the masterplan, and we can be as rich as Creosote (or something).

    Keep on truckin’

    Buck.

    PS, Wendy’s just got in, turns out despite Steve (the manager at Warrington CAB) promising faithfully he was going to advertise the job today (as he has been doing since April) he has not. If he’s not having an affair with you,he’s not botherered if you are getting paid or not, apparently. It took one of the volunteers to threaten leaving (she’s got a job and a family, would prefer to work for the CAB, but has got to the point where it’s either/or) before he would say it’s definitely this week. Then he still screwed everyone over.  Again. What a twat.

    Again it’s not the money, it’s the principle. He had better look twice for speeding Micras before he crosses the road.

  • Damn the DSA and all who sail on her!

    Balls! Failed again. Happily I thrive on despair and disappointment.

    The worst thing is; both of the incidents that lead to the fail were avoidable. One of them was trying to steer around one of those painted white traffic islands (in a truck they are usually impossible, you make a token effort to show you’ve seen it then run it over anyway) which meant I mounted a pavement. The other incident was two fails in one, I came up to a set of traffic lights. At the lights the road split in a Y with a little dividing island between the diverging lanes. As I approached I saw the left turn was going to be tight and considered taking the right lane as well. That had a line of traffic in it so I thought, what the hell, I can make it. Which left me an almost impossibly tight turn. So I was inching forward, getting as close as I possibly could to the dividing island, then looking back to check I was going to clear the pavement with my trailer. Inch forward, check front and mirrors, inch forward, "STOP!"

    The bastard lights had changed to red!

    D’oh!

    Then, when I set off, because of the position I’d left myself in, I nearly took out a railing.

    In the de-brief the examiner said, apart from running the lights, everything was down to approaching each situation too fast. If I’d have slowed down and given myself time to think…

    Still, those are (another) two mistakes I’ll never make again and I can learn from my mistakes, I should be running out of mistakes to make soon!

    Ho hum, tired Bucky.

    Later,

    Buck.

    🙁

  • Happy Bucky

    Just a quick one, but even though I failed my driving test again I have turned that frown upside down.

    I have, for the last few months if truth be told, letting my martial arts slide. I had to give the Kung Fu up through lack of cash, then with all the excuse making I had been wagging it more and more from Taekwondo.

    Tonight was make or break really. In the car there I was rationalising my waning commitment; I have all the driving to do, I started doing it to regain my sanity, and I’m now as sane as I get, I’m losing interest,etc.

    Then I got to the class and they were doing the "hello stranger" routine, and I felt like a newbie again. But then we got down to the nitty-gritty of the kicking of arse, and woo-hoo! What a buzz!

    With all the prevarication and disingenuous self-deluding laziness, I’d forgotten the reason I was sweating and hurting before: because it feels so damn good!

    I am buzzing off it.

    Also there is the fact that I was training with people over half the way to black belt, and half of my kicks are better than theirs!

    Yes indeedy, let’s not discount that sinful little pleasure.

    I am writing this down whilst I am still buzzing so that next week, when the inertia has set in again and I don’t want to move, telling myself it would be easier to quit, I can read this and remember that I go because I love it!

    Right off to trough.

    Buck.