A Drive in the South of France
About 4 weeks ago, I picked up a load on Sunday and headed up to a Costco store in Burlington VT. I had an appointment there at 0600 Monday morning, and leaving Sunday and spending the night there left me with full hours on Monday morning after I was unloaded. I was unloaded, and ready to roll before the powers that be instructed me where to head next. I guess the powers that be are not up this early. I park the truck in the lot and laid back down while I wait for the computer to start beeping with my next load. It wasn't long till it did, and when I took a peek to see where I was heading, sheer terror set in. I was to head to the Johnson & Johnson plant in Montreal, Quebec and pick up a load headed to Mechanicsburg PA. I had heard from other drivers about these loads, and for almost one year I had managed to somehow avoid them. My former STL (Service Team Leader, a kind of go between driver & dispatch) had told me they would not send me there till I gave them the ok that I was comfortable going there. Well, it appears someone figured I was ready; of course probably since I do such a bang up job on every other load in the lower 48!
So now I'm sitting here thinking I should have lied, I could have told them my long criminal record would prevent me from being able to cross the border. I even consider calling and saying "Gosh Darn! I got held up in a shady truck stop at gun point the other night and the bastards took only my Birth Certificate and all my dirty underwear! And now I can't cross the border!"
So back to Vermont, where I calmly write down all the load info and send in a wild of a guess trip plan. We send in trip plans to inform when we plan to arrive to pick up a load, when we will deliver it, and how much time we will have on the clock when we do deliver it. I give myself all kinds of time plus a few weeks on this load, because I really have no idea what might happen to me. I have read after all, of drivers spending hours and hours trying to cross the border, and not one sounded the least bit enticing to me!
After sending in the trip plan to the big bosses, I request directions from the in truck computer / beeping pain in the ass (more on this in later posts) and pull out my handy dandy map. And for the next 45 minutes I sit and look at said direction and map. And look. And look again. Canada's highways seem really weird on the map and the directions are even worse! It used phrases like EXIT (N) ON LES GOGETLOS' FOR 4.2MI and other strange other worldly road names. I finally decided this was taking up way too much time and made my own directions from the map, wrote em down, taped em to the dash and headed northbound.
As I headed up interstate 89 North, I began to wonder what may happen just crossing into Canada? Would I and the truck be searched? Did I remember to remove all the drugs and guns out of the truck? (That was a joke for any Company or Government officials who may have had the misfortune to be born without a sense of humor!) These thoughts concerned me enough to stop at the last available rest area in Vermont, just a few ticks from the border. I figured this best, since all I knew this might be my last chance using modern facilities before getting back to the States! I also use this stop to call and ask my STL what I can expect to happen crossing into Canada. I reach my STL'S assistant and she informs me "nothing". Okay, sounds good to me!
Back on the road the signs click down the miles to the border, and before I know it, there I am. I seem to be the only truck heading to Canada today, so unfortunately I have no one to follow. As I approach, I spot signs on the left stating "TRUCK INSPECTION" so I quickly swerve over that way (after checking my mirrors first) I am now in these lanes when I realize it's an inspection station that is only open at certain times and now is not one of those times. Up ahead I spot some booths with signs overhead shouting "ALL TRUCKS" "TO THE RIGHT!!" SCHNEIDER THIS MEANS YOU!" So I quickly swerve back to the right, across all lanes, completely convinced the dudes monitoring the border have just seen my little swerving approach and are probably ready to have me park the truck and have me come inside for questioning under a hot light, followed up with blood and urine samples. I pull up booth side, shut off the truck and offer a friendly "Howdy!" The guys asked where I was heading? "Montreal." Where do you live? "Womelsdorf PA." How long will you be staying? "Probably a few days to a few weeks, depends on how lost I get." Of course I didn't say that last part, I just said as long it takes to pick up the load and head back. He told me to have a good day and away I went. Whew! That was easier than I could have hoped for, and just like that, all the English went away. All the speeds changed too! I couldn't even tell if a house was for sale or rent. I noticed a billboard that to this day makes me wonder what they were pitching, a girl and a dog, backs to each other with strange language above. What could that possibly be about?
After a short while, I found my way to the J&J facility. Oh there were a few hair raising moments when I thought for sure nothing made sense and I was horrifically lost, but luck was on my side and I made it. After taking a moment to get out and kiss the ground, the guard checked me in, told me where to drop my empty trailer and pick up my loaded one and off I went. After completing that task, I spent the next hour getting my paperwork in order and trying to come up with a plan to get me back into the States. We use a procedure to cross back into the USA called "PAPS" short for Pre Arrival Processing System. This involves faxing stuff to our agent at the border who in turn somehow gets it approved to cross the border. When I pull up to the Customs booth, these cats will know what Company, what kind of truck, what's in the box, and how many coffee's the driver consumed on that particular day. The only thing I was to worry about was filling out the inbound cargo manifest, and I as I didn't want to invoke suspicion and hot interview lights, I needed to consult my training manuals for help which lucky for me were still in my possession. I wasn't 100% sure I had done this right, but as I went to the guard shack to have him fax the paperwork to our broker, Luck struck again. Inside the booth was a classmate of mine from Billy Bob Big Rigger School who was kind enough to give it the once over. He gave it his okay and I proceeded to quiz him on getting out of here and back to the good ole USA. As he spoke, I tried to jot down notes, until it occurred to me we were both heading to the same place. "Can't I just follow you?" thinking how can it get any easier? "Oh Yeah, OK" he says and we wait a bit before calling the border to see if we are cleared to cross. After about an hour we make the call, and off we go. I follow him all the way to the border while we chat on the CB, mostly pointing out places of interest on the way down. It was a nice drive down along the waterfront, the city of Montreal serving as a backdrop. As we approached the border we said our good byes and I thanked him again for showing me the ropes as well as loaning me the 3 bucks. You are required to pay 5$ upon re-entering the United States, we were told in class the agents do not make change! I had only 2 singles and one ten, which I was fully prepared to sacrifice just to get back across the border, but my friend helped me out with 3 singles, so the ten was saved and lived to see days of being spent on artery clogging burgers at Mickey D's.
When it was my turn at the Customs booth (only 2 trucks ahead of me today so it went quick) they proceeded to take my money and ask me a few questions. One was a trick question: "Where did you pick up this load?" Since he had my paperwork and knew darn well where I got it, It threw me for such a curve I actually had to pause before answering "Montreal." I actually thought of a much more wit filled answer, but why risk ending up in jail now, when the end of this nerve wracking journey is finally in sight! But I made it! No Cavity checks, no X-Ray machines, just hit the highway, set the cruise, crank up the XM Satellite Radio and relax for the next 500 or so miles direct to Mechanicsburg. This trip it I made it about 200 miles down Interstate 87 through the Adirondack mountains almost to the New Jersey Border. I stopped at one of the last service areas and managed to find one of the last parking spots available. I had 3 more hours available to drive, but the stress of my first Canadian trip had completely wiped me out. Good Lord, just writing this and reflecting has wiped me out, as I am sure it has drained you just reading it!
About 4 weeks ago, I picked up a load on Sunday and headed up to a Costco store in Burlington VT. I had an appointment there at 0600 Monday morning, and leaving Sunday and spending the night there left me with full hours on Monday morning after I was unloaded. I was unloaded, and ready to roll before the powers that be instructed me where to head next. I guess the powers that be are not up this early. I park the truck in the lot and laid back down while I wait for the computer to start beeping with my next load. It wasn't long till it did, and when I took a peek to see where I was heading, sheer terror set in. I was to head to the Johnson & Johnson plant in Montreal, Quebec and pick up a load headed to Mechanicsburg PA. I had heard from other drivers about these loads, and for almost one year I had managed to somehow avoid them. My former STL (Service Team Leader, a kind of go between driver & dispatch) had told me they would not send me there till I gave them the ok that I was comfortable going there. Well, it appears someone figured I was ready; of course probably since I do such a bang up job on every other load in the lower 48!
So now I'm sitting here thinking I should have lied, I could have told them my long criminal record would prevent me from being able to cross the border. I even consider calling and saying "Gosh Darn! I got held up in a shady truck stop at gun point the other night and the bastards took only my Birth Certificate and all my dirty underwear! And now I can't cross the border!"
So back to Vermont, where I calmly write down all the load info and send in a wild of a guess trip plan. We send in trip plans to inform when we plan to arrive to pick up a load, when we will deliver it, and how much time we will have on the clock when we do deliver it. I give myself all kinds of time plus a few weeks on this load, because I really have no idea what might happen to me. I have read after all, of drivers spending hours and hours trying to cross the border, and not one sounded the least bit enticing to me!
After sending in the trip plan to the big bosses, I request directions from the in truck computer / beeping pain in the ass (more on this in later posts) and pull out my handy dandy map. And for the next 45 minutes I sit and look at said direction and map. And look. And look again. Canada's highways seem really weird on the map and the directions are even worse! It used phrases like EXIT (N) ON LES GOGETLOS' FOR 4.2MI and other strange other worldly road names. I finally decided this was taking up way too much time and made my own directions from the map, wrote em down, taped em to the dash and headed northbound.
As I headed up interstate 89 North, I began to wonder what may happen just crossing into Canada? Would I and the truck be searched? Did I remember to remove all the drugs and guns out of the truck? (That was a joke for any Company or Government officials who may have had the misfortune to be born without a sense of humor!) These thoughts concerned me enough to stop at the last available rest area in Vermont, just a few ticks from the border. I figured this best, since all I knew this might be my last chance using modern facilities before getting back to the States! I also use this stop to call and ask my STL what I can expect to happen crossing into Canada. I reach my STL'S assistant and she informs me "nothing". Okay, sounds good to me!
Back on the road the signs click down the miles to the border, and before I know it, there I am. I seem to be the only truck heading to Canada today, so unfortunately I have no one to follow. As I approach, I spot signs on the left stating "TRUCK INSPECTION" so I quickly swerve over that way (after checking my mirrors first) I am now in these lanes when I realize it's an inspection station that is only open at certain times and now is not one of those times. Up ahead I spot some booths with signs overhead shouting "ALL TRUCKS" "TO THE RIGHT!!" SCHNEIDER THIS MEANS YOU!" So I quickly swerve back to the right, across all lanes, completely convinced the dudes monitoring the border have just seen my little swerving approach and are probably ready to have me park the truck and have me come inside for questioning under a hot light, followed up with blood and urine samples. I pull up booth side, shut off the truck and offer a friendly "Howdy!" The guys asked where I was heading? "Montreal." Where do you live? "Womelsdorf PA." How long will you be staying? "Probably a few days to a few weeks, depends on how lost I get." Of course I didn't say that last part, I just said as long it takes to pick up the load and head back. He told me to have a good day and away I went. Whew! That was easier than I could have hoped for, and just like that, all the English went away. All the speeds changed too! I couldn't even tell if a house was for sale or rent. I noticed a billboard that to this day makes me wonder what they were pitching, a girl and a dog, backs to each other with strange language above. What could that possibly be about?
After a short while, I found my way to the J&J facility. Oh there were a few hair raising moments when I thought for sure nothing made sense and I was horrifically lost, but luck was on my side and I made it. After taking a moment to get out and kiss the ground, the guard checked me in, told me where to drop my empty trailer and pick up my loaded one and off I went. After completing that task, I spent the next hour getting my paperwork in order and trying to come up with a plan to get me back into the States. We use a procedure to cross back into the USA called "PAPS" short for Pre Arrival Processing System. This involves faxing stuff to our agent at the border who in turn somehow gets it approved to cross the border. When I pull up to the Customs booth, these cats will know what Company, what kind of truck, what's in the box, and how many coffee's the driver consumed on that particular day. The only thing I was to worry about was filling out the inbound cargo manifest, and I as I didn't want to invoke suspicion and hot interview lights, I needed to consult my training manuals for help which lucky for me were still in my possession. I wasn't 100% sure I had done this right, but as I went to the guard shack to have him fax the paperwork to our broker, Luck struck again. Inside the booth was a classmate of mine from Billy Bob Big Rigger School who was kind enough to give it the once over. He gave it his okay and I proceeded to quiz him on getting out of here and back to the good ole USA. As he spoke, I tried to jot down notes, until it occurred to me we were both heading to the same place. "Can't I just follow you?" thinking how can it get any easier? "Oh Yeah, OK" he says and we wait a bit before calling the border to see if we are cleared to cross. After about an hour we make the call, and off we go. I follow him all the way to the border while we chat on the CB, mostly pointing out places of interest on the way down. It was a nice drive down along the waterfront, the city of Montreal serving as a backdrop. As we approached the border we said our good byes and I thanked him again for showing me the ropes as well as loaning me the 3 bucks. You are required to pay 5$ upon re-entering the United States, we were told in class the agents do not make change! I had only 2 singles and one ten, which I was fully prepared to sacrifice just to get back across the border, but my friend helped me out with 3 singles, so the ten was saved and lived to see days of being spent on artery clogging burgers at Mickey D's.
When it was my turn at the Customs booth (only 2 trucks ahead of me today so it went quick) they proceeded to take my money and ask me a few questions. One was a trick question: "Where did you pick up this load?" Since he had my paperwork and knew darn well where I got it, It threw me for such a curve I actually had to pause before answering "Montreal." I actually thought of a much more wit filled answer, but why risk ending up in jail now, when the end of this nerve wracking journey is finally in sight! But I made it! No Cavity checks, no X-Ray machines, just hit the highway, set the cruise, crank up the XM Satellite Radio and relax for the next 500 or so miles direct to Mechanicsburg. This trip it I made it about 200 miles down Interstate 87 through the Adirondack mountains almost to the New Jersey Border. I stopped at one of the last service areas and managed to find one of the last parking spots available. I had 3 more hours available to drive, but the stress of my first Canadian trip had completely wiped me out. Good Lord, just writing this and reflecting has wiped me out, as I am sure it has drained you just reading it!
Comments