Training – Day Five

On this Monday, the beginning of week two, we lost a trainee, hold the phone – we lost two trainees – and we gained two. It’s possible that they have just been delayed a week. That’s where the two new people came from. They started their training two weeks ago, were put off a week, and came back to the program today. With two training trucks in action the lady went on one team and the guy joined our team.

Today I felt like we progressed to fourth or even fifth grade! We spent the day tooling around the yard, or box, as our new trainer, the Limey, refers to it. The Limey was actually an eight year Stevens employee. He had been an on-the-road trainer for much of that time, but because he had family issues, he opted to leave Stevens but stay in training, now with the Lone Star College system. This keeps him in the trucking business but keeps him close to home. He’s a rather large refugee from north London who retired from the London municipal transportation system where he drove double decker buses (what else?) and engineered subway trains. He tells great stories, likes his fags (cigarettes!), was a British Hell’s Angel (almost sounds oxymoronic) and has a spectacularly real, earthy way of expressing himself  and conveying driving techniques.  The five trainees in his care each has his strengths and weaknesses, except for Bubba, who hasn’t revealed any weaknesses yet. And to be honest, I’m lying (is it possible to be honest about dishonesty). The new guy on our team, Kareem, doesn’t seem to have any strengths. Even his third time behind the wheel, he was grinding most every gear and administering whiplash therapy to the rest of us.

There are things about driving big rigs that are difficult because they are just plain counterintuitive. This started in straight line acking where to correct your path you have to steer the opposite way than if you were driving a car. Double-clutch shifting is a skill in which you have to overcome your instinct to accelerate your way through the gears. The Limey is coaching us to move through gears one through eight (at least) with minimal use of the accelerator. Of course this works with an empty trailer, and we will have to adjust our technique when we start moving a dozen ton’s worth of freight, but for training purposes, speed and use of the accelerator just complicates things for the driver. Another part of double-clutching is the depth of your clutching.To get into your first gear, whether it is reverse or first or third gear, you have to depress the clutch all the way.

BUT in shifting your way up the gears, you only have to partially depress the clutch, maybe an inch, two max. And you have to do it very quickly – “Boom. Boom,” as the Limey likes to say. “Clutch. Neutral, Clutch. Next gear,” he says. And you have to do it at a speed comparable to the speed at which an automatic transmission moves from one forward gear the the next. “Boom. Boom.” While you  may be able to shift quickly in a manual transmission automobile, you do have to shift all the way and the gearbox is synchronized so you only have to depress the clutch once for each gear change.

Downshifting includes an extra step, the Rev. “Clutch. Neutral. Rev (up the engine). Clutch. Gear.” While it seemed as though it clicked just right a few times, it is far from a natural move. I’m sure it will all become second nature … eventually.

The Limey also had great insight into how the first five weeks with an on the road trainer would go. He made it seem like we would hit a vast majority of the lower 48 states during those five weeks.

We’re all excited. Tomorrow we’re heading off the lot and will be driving on the local highways and byways.

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Reflections – Week One

A week into truck driving school and I feel like I’m just coming out of first grade. Here my assorted thoughts:

1. I have a great sense of relief that I’ve completed all five of the required written tests. I didn’t really have any doubts and even if I had failed any of the tests I could’ve gone back the next day and passed them but having them all complete by the end of the day Thursday meant I could have a relatively stress-free three day weekend.
2. This will probably be my last traditional three day weekend for at least a couple of months, if not a couple of years.
3. I’ll be on the road for my birthday.
4. I’ll be on the road for my wife’s birthday.
5. I’ll be on the road for my oldest granddaughter’s seventh birthday.
6. I’ll be on the road for most, if not all, holidays for the next 12 months.
7. While my training class of 13 guys started out as a pretty cold and impersonal group, it seems to be turning into a good group of guys. Most everybody is talking to most everybody else and there is a good amount of kidding around along with the mutual support.
8. The funniest sight so far has been good ol’ boy Bubba, who comes to class in bib overalls, work boots and the oilfield equivalent of a John Deere cap getting out of a little Kia toaster-sized SUV. He says he has a pickup but is going for the fuel economy. I suggested at least getting a gun rack for the Kia.
9. Having been on the end of A LOT of  training over the years (certainly hundreds of programs) and having done a lot of classroom training myself, the training so far has been average to slightly above average. I know enough to know you cannot expect to just sit in class and then pass all the tests. So it is with this program. Our classroom instructor is a rookie. This was her first week on her own. She made too many comments to that effect. As her elder, and one who  has done a lot of training, I counseled her to fake it until she makes it (becomes proficient). One or two of the guys have already been complaining that they were guinea pigs. She provided adequate information, made pretty good presentations, had a good energy level and lots of stories. That’s all we should need.
10. Really looking forward to the hands on training over the next two weeks! I selfishly hope that more classmates drop out (I know, pretty brutal) so I can get more time behind the wheel.
11. I’m still reading stuff in chat rooms, a lot of it negative. I should probably stop. I’ve made my decision to go with a training company so I’m in for the year or out six grand. It would take a significant lotto win to get me out. And it’s unlikely I’ll be buying many lotto tickets which, of course, is a requirement for a win.
12. A 37-year-old nephew of mine who has been in the trucking business for almost 20 years (already!) said he thought the government was trying to put cowboys like him out of business and have all the trucking done though BACs (Big Ass Companies). Electronic logging will make fudging logbooks more difficult if not impossible and it won’t be long before everything is electronically logged..
13. This same nephew said he really likes what he is doing. He’s tried to get out of the business once or twice but the open road just dragged him back in.
14. To be (an owner / operator) or not to be (and remain a company driver). That is still the question. Depending on what you read and who you talk to, company lease programs are just different words for grand theft tractor. Fewer people say it’s a good deal. As Scarlett O’Hara said, “I’ll think about that tomorrow.”

In fact, I’ll be thinking about a lot of stuff over the next six months. We all have so many questions about life on the road. We’re aware that even if we get through the training and pass the road test, we could get to the headquarters orientation and get booted then. We really, really hope we get good trainers for the first five weeks. There are soooo many variables to all this that I believe it will be best to take it as it comes and let the opportunities come to me. Hey, it could happen.

Another view of straight line backing. Cute umbrella, eh? Very useful in hundred degree heat. I have one too but it is much more manly.

Day Four – Shake is Whipped

Classes run from 7 a.m. until 5:30. That’s way earlier than I am used to getting up so on goes the alarm – 5:30. It has woken me two of the four mornings this week and the other two I have been awake all by my lone by quarter after five. For some unknown reason – undoubtedly having to do with the physics of florescent fixtures, the kitchen lights are especially bright at that time.

Today I spent the first 30 minutes in class and then those of us who had additional tests to take (or retake) were excused to go back into the belly of the beast. One of my compadres and I arrived at the DPS at around 9:00. We waited about 55 minutes to get our “don’t call us, we’ll call your number” slips. There was a single number between mine and his. After another hour I finally got called back to Window 6.

A brief digression. Whereas my last visit to the DPS office (in Conroe) was made tolerable the presence of pretty women in the waiting area, the Vantage Drive DPS office offered nothing but unattractive schlubs.  And then an thick unattractive woman with some serious attitude sashayed in and broke the monotony. She was all about being noticed. When a businessman who had been on his Bluetooth all the while he had been waiting in line made a public request, cigarette dangling from his lips, for a lighter, Miz Muscle Shirt Personality practically jumped out of her skin to offer hers as she scurried from the back of the line flicking her Bic. She followed him outside. Alas, her connection to the businessman ended as quickly as it began as she made her way back to the end of the line within 30 seconds.

Every few minutes she would exclaim one inanity or another at twice the decibel level of any other communication taking place in the facility.

I was finally called to the inner sanctum. I once again provided thumbprints and a headshot in front of the blue screen along with $41 for the next level of licensing. “But you took my photo two days ago,” I explained. “We do it every time you come in,” she answered. Okay.

I took the three tests, General Knowledge (50 questions), Pre-Trip Inspection (30 questions), and Air Brakes (25 questions). Seven wrong, one wrong, two wrong. I passed the three exams handily.

As I was waiting to complete the paperwork, a number was announced and I heard a voice over the din, “one thirty one, woo hoo.” Of course it was Miz Would Want Her On My Side in a Bar Fight Personality. A moment later she sashayed into the clerks’ area along with a frail, rather normal-looking older lady who must have been her mother (she must be so proud). She kept whooping and hollering “what’s this” and “where do I look for the eye test” and “red, green, green, yellow” (test for color blindness). There were muted chuckles and her celebrity followed her out of the DPS office and all reverted back to dull, stultifying DPS normal. Now that I that I think about it, I could see her driving a dump truck and giving the other drivers wedgies back at the office.

When I got to the final clerk, who had just taken the place of the guy who looked like he knew what he was doing, he took my document, clickety typed on his keyboard, got a hmmmm look on his face and said he couldn’t find any record of my having taken the tests. What!?!? “You could certainly take the tests over again,” he mumbled. Uhhhh, I don’t think so. The clerk said he just couldn’t find anything connected to my drivers license number. I asked what he could find if he used my name. “I was just checking that out,” he said lamely. Why the hell wouldn’t he have checked that out before he started giving me bad news?

By that time a supervisor, hearing some agitation and  heat in my voice, sidled up to the counter and asked what was up. The substitute clerk miraculously found my test results and confirmed that I had passed all three tests. Phshew!

Getting back to the training center Kraut and I hightailed it out to the tarmac (sounds cooler than it is) where two other members of the class were already straight line backing the tractor trailer. Carl was in the tractor and doing a pretty crappy job of backing the rig between the rows of orange cones. I didn’t say much because I was pretty sure backing was going to be tougher than it looked.

Big rig moonwalking, if you will. Pretty straightforward.  Er, make that straightrearward.

Karl never did back up the 150 feet without venturing outside the lines. I was next. I got three quarters of the way down the passage and then started overthinking my moves. We were also practicing shifting through the first three gears when we pulled to the head of the lane. In a manual transmission tractor, this required double clutching. After a couple of rough shifts, I was a double clutching fool.

It had struck me last night that this whole truck driving school experience could be likened to elementary education. So far this week, we had barely cleared pre-school. Having passed my five tests I felt that maybe I had made it through kindergarten. Here we were, grown men, ranging from 22 to 61, getting all giddy about hopping in the cab of a big rig and backing up at a whopping two miles an hour. Imagine our delight when we progressed to doing laps around the training yard at maybe five or six miles an hour.

We went though a couple of cycles of backing for all five of us. Kraut and Mantisse were the best, Reader and Carl were the worst, and I was somewhere in the middle. Before we went though the second cycle, I did some serious imagineering and visualization. When it was my turn again, I did sloppily fair on my first attempt, and with one bad start, killed on my second attempt. Nailed it.

The our instructor then decided we could practice our “onward” driving in the time we had left. And, be still my beating heart, she would let us venture into fourth gear! I gotta tell you, we were some happy first graders. I continued to KILL with the double clutching. Nobody else came close.

It was getting pretty close to quitting time and we were all ready for the day to be over. It was 100 degrees on the pavement and we spent most of the time outside. I had been wearing a straw cowboy hat and using a golf umbrella to keep my basal cell cancer prone skin in the shade. But no matter where you stood, it was a hundred degrees. We couldn’t drink enough water.  After we each toured the yard twice, we parked the rig and went though the steps to test the air brakes. It was just like the written words we had read in class. Remarkable!

No school tomorrow. We ended the week at 10 students. Carl, who didn’t really have his drivers license, was told by the state that he really did show as having been licensed since 2008. By this time, the school had decided he really only had his permit and since he didn’t have the requisite two years in the drivers seat as a fully licensed driver, he was ineligible for the class. He had a good attitude about it all. Plus he still had a job, working the night shift at a lubricating oil manufacturing plant. He’ll do fine.

I will be enjoying my three days off although I will absolutely dream about straight line backing tonight. Next week we’ll tool around the training facility a few more times before venturing out into civilization and the public highways and byways. Talk to you then.

Training – Day Three (Continued)

After losing two people to medical issues (?) and seeing a 60 percent failure rate on the permit test, the classroom was a bit thinner and there were some unhappy campers.  The failure seemed to stem from the fact that the students felt the practice tests were sufficient to get them the permit without having to read the handbook. Didn’t work out that way. The dude that I would have thought would score perfectly on both tests was royally chapped that he wasn’t properly instructed. Those of us that passed don’t quite see it that way, but I’m sure if I would have failed, I would be royally chapped too.

I neglected to mention that one of the other class members got to the DPS office only to learn that although he was 22 years old and had been driving since he was 18, he had never taken, and thus never passed the road test for his regular drivers license. He would not be eligible for the class until he had some kind of license. So he left the class to go find a place to take the road test. We never saw him again. Not sure if he’ll be back tomorrow.  The really crazy thing was, he owned a car, or at least had a car note.

Water under the bridge. The remaining nine continued to review material for the last three tests – pre-trip inspection, air brakes and general knowledge. We watched DVDs, a VIDEO TAPE (?!?) and went out to the ’94 Kenworth to have another look at all the components we were told would be depicted in the inspection exam.

Then we got to the really fun stuff: Logbooks. There is a science to keeping track of your driving activities from day to day. Evidently there is art associated with this chore as well but only if you choose to fudge a bit. We’re learning how to log things on paper even though Stevens has an automated electronic system in their trucks.

Tomorrow, after taking the remaining tests, we get behind the wheel. Straight line backing up and shifting through the first three gears. EXCITEMENT PLUS!!!

Training – Day Three

Five of us took our CDL permit test yesterday and two went for their DOT physical. The two guys getting their physicals were no shows this morning and only two of us got our permits. It evidently pays to read the handbook in addition to taking the practice tests. More to come.

Training – Day Two (Continued)

While we did some training, the highlight of the day was taking and passing the CDL A permit test. Of course that highlight required a lowlight in the form of a visit to the legendary DPS office in Conroe. The day balanced out. Got to the DPS office and it was relatively busy. I instantly knew it would be trouble because there were two lines. Why would they do that? Why couldn’t  they have one line and have the next person in line advance whenever a clerk opened up? It’s not that complicated. Banks and many other institutions have figured it out.

Since the two lines looked pretty even, I flipped an imaginary coin, picked the line on the left and promptly got left in the dust by the line on the right. Although it wasn’t labeled, my line was obviously the queue for the mentally deficient, each with hugely complicated drivers license issues, and a collection of family members who couldn’t be bothered to actually stand in line. The only slack I would cut any of them was the guy in the wheelchair with no legs. His daughter was helping him and his rather frail looking wife who had band aids all over her legs. They took about five minutes before leaving empty handed because they didn’t have the requisite number of proof of address documents.

The guy I started talking to when we were both seven people back from the front of the line was walking out with his new license (or whatever he was there for) by the time I got to my mentally deficient clerk. That took perhaps 35 minutes. I then waited another 40 minutes for my number to be called to the next level of bureaucratic hell. There they took my $11 along with my picture in front of a blue background (surprisingly, I could not conjure up my happy face) and gave me the key to the touchscreen that would fire out special requirements and combination questions.

Ten minutes later I was walking back to the clerk who would give me my temporary permit and usher me through the lobby with the fast and slow lines – where, by the way, there was NOBODY waiting in line – and out of the building.

Actually, while it was an uncomfortably slow experience, all the personnel, with the exception of the clerk behind Window 6, were very cordial and I imagine they have the same conversations about what they see every day because I know they have to deal with some real zombies. For the record, I was 100 percent on the special requirements test and 90 percent on the combination test. (The names didn’t make sense to me, but what the hey.) The second test had probably half a dozen questions that weren’t covered in class. There were a few questions about multiple trailers and I just wan’t prepared for those. I’m glad I only got two wrong.

Flashback: Before we were deployed to our test taking, we finally got a chance to sit in a tractor, and Pammie even cranked it up for us. This was part of our introduction to the ever important pre-trip inspection. There are 33 steps, and I can’t believe anybody other than the truly clinically anal actually checks off each and every item every time. I mean, if you checked out the windshield washer level yesterday, and didn’t use it since then, why would it be gone today? But the inspection will be part of the road test so we will inspect the everloving crap out of the rig, including testing the air brakes (which is at least seven steps), because we all want to pass the road test. Oh yeah, I’m sure our company will want us to pre-trip inspect so we will all do it and we will all like it. Trust me when I tell you I will inform you when the inspection directly or indirectly saves my life one day in the future.

Flashback Note: The training tractor we inspected was a 1994 model POS. For a company that provides the best equipment, Stevens evidently makes their field equipment seem even better by comparison to the clunkers they use in training. Guess it only makes sense. Why put a bunch of inexperienced boobs into a shiny new truck?

The whole class is getting to know each other. One of the black guys, the one sitting next to me, is from Nigeria and his last real job was an IT analyst for IBM. I used to work for IBM. Whoda thunk that the classmate I would have the most in common with would be from Lagos. While I don’t expect to be bosom buddies with all of them, we’ll all be cordial when we see each other at the random truck stop, and there are a few I’m sure I’ll be staying in touch with.

Training – Day 2

Beautiful sunrise on the drive in this morning. I look forward to seeing many more out on the open road in the months ahead. Is that kinda sick for a non-morning person?

Training – Day One

We convened at seven o’clock in the A of M. Haven’t had to set the alarm for anything earlier than 6:00 for a loooong time. Got to the facility in about 30 minutes. Not bad. There were probably sixteen people in the grungy training room and more were coming in. It looked like it was going to be standing room only. Turns out half the guys (right, no women) were starting their second week and they were led away.  The remaining 13 included three Hispanics, five Blacks, four Whites, one Asian (hmm), and one Middle Easterner (I think). By the end of the day one of the Brothers was gone for an unidentified reason, although I think it had something to do with his background check or his DOT physical. That dude had only turned 22, the minimum age for the company’s trainees, a couple of weeks ago.

We had our team and our trainer, Pammie (clearly a girl, albeit with grandchildren), introduced herself. I should mention that our training was being held in conjunction with the Lone Star College system which has a transportation school. Who knew. Pat had been training for awhile but her specialty had been straight backing. (Now that is specialized.) This was the first time she would be training solo. She went on to do a nice job.

Our recruiter and main company representative, Clark, showed up 15 or 20 minutes late but he had breakfast tacos so his tardiness was forgiven. He spent a couple of hours having us fill out paperwork and reinforcing what a good decision we had all made. Stevens Transport was the best training company out there and although we were all bound to the company for a year, or we would have to pay back the $6,000 (Yes! $6,000!) that the training was costing them. He added that at the end of a year, because they had the best training in the industry, we would be heavily courted by every other trucking company out there. Stevens figures they’ll lose 70 percent of their trainees after their rookie year, but they evidently figure that was their cost of doing business.

During the review of the Lone Star Driver Trainee Handbook, which was blah, blah, blah, blah, I was crushed to learn that we would not be able to wear shorts. Dang!  The good news was they had a paragraph devoted to hygiene. That was one thing I was actually worried about: having to get into a tractor cab with one or more smelly, hasn’t-taken-a-shower-in four-days human beings. That’s not to say there won’t be a hygienically-challenged team member but I will at least have the standing to call attention to the situation citing the manual as the governing document.

We will have to pass two written tests to get our Class A drivers permits and three more before we can take our road test. We buzzed through subject reviews for three of them and took two practice tests. Aced ’em.

But the videos we viewed, while informative, were the real eye-openers. The other two things I was dreading, other than the stinking partner thing, were descending from the mountaintops (c’mon, you’ve seen those emergency turnouts in the mountains) and the dreaded jackknife.  The videos showed how to avoid problems in these situations, but the danger still lurks.

End of day one? I am pleasantly surprised that so far everything has lived up to or surpassed my expectations.

Anticipation and Trepidation

I downloaded the Texas CDL manual and have been reading it to get ahead of the program. Of course I have to get a permit before I can get the actual license. It makes you realize that in our personal lives we just get in the car and drive, almost without even a first thought. While there may be truckers that follow that same non-routine, that ain’t what the manual says you gotta do.

Also, in conversations with my recruiters (I’ve been dealing with two of them), it’s pretty clear that there are a few zero tolerance mistakes you can make that will get you drop kicked out of the profession right freakin’ now! The start of the list includes:

• Drugs or booze
• Lying about your background
• Tipping a trailer

Depending on the company, I guess, you can also add using the special U-turn lane to head back the other way on a freeway or freeway feeder. The rule is, you must go to the light and make a legitimate left and then another left on the other side of the freeway.

School starts at 7:00 in the morning and that will require an alarm set to the earliest time I can recall in many years. They provided a list of “things to bring” and I believe the only thing I don’t have is a pair of work shoes or work boots. Never need ’em. I have a pair of black shoes that looks like work shoes so I’m hoping I can pull it off. Daddy can’t afford a new pair of shoes.

I’m certain the first few hours will be spent writer’s cramping my way through a dozen or more new hire forms.

I expect a very diverse group of trainees and I hope I do not hear the following words: “My, this is the biggest training group we’ve had in a long, long time.” Selfishly, I want all the attention I can get.

I’ll let you know how things go tomorrow.

The Journey Begins

I’m going into the trucking business as an Over The Road driver. I start driver school on Monday. This is something I’ve considered a few times over the years – usually after an especially disappointing stretch in my generally disappointing work life. Truck driving was my version of joining the French Foreign Legion.

I guess I wanted to get out of the rat race and go to a simpler life. (Stop laughing.)

I’ve only been in a big truck once. That was four days ago, and I only stuck my head in. I went to a busy truck stop to finalize my research. Walking around the lot where all the big rigs were sleeping, I snagged a middle-aged guy toting a big drink who seemed relatively normal and asked him if he could answer a few questions. He turned out to be a font of knowledge and, as luck would have it, a trainer for the company I’m going with. He didn’t sugarcoat the life but, as a relative newcomer to the trucking business himself, having only started driving a couple of years ago, he had gone through the same thought processes I was going through. The picture he painted seemed pretty authentic.

I also spoke to a friend I met last year who had been an OTR driver for a couple of years after 20-plus years as a cop in Arlington, Texas. He liked it. He saw the country and looked back on it as a very enjoyable experience. If he hadn’t just got married again, he said he’d consider going back into the business.

Me? I’ve been married my whole life and my kids are on their own. I started in Minnesota, moved to Green Bay, Houston (the first time), Little Rock, and Atlanta before moving back to Houston in 2005. I spent most of my career in the corporate world – energy marketing, management, training and development, new media and e-business. After the dot-com bubble burst and took the economy down the drain in 2001, I (along with 89,999 of my closest friends) was laid off by IBM and hustled to find a new career. I figured sales offered the best opportunity to make good money.

Since then, I have spent most of my time in direct sales and sales management with a 15 month stint doing catastrophe insurance adjusting. I sold cars, merchant services (credit card processing), new homes, and, most recently, home improvements. May I be totally honest about something? I don’t like sales or selling. In fact I borderline hate it. I’m great and meeting people and making friends. I could always tell the company story in an entertaining way, but I wasn’t so good at overcoming objections and closing the sale. That’s a pretty nasty weakness if you want to make money. I found that I just didn’t care if people wanted my product or not. Other than the money part of it, who the hell was I to tell them what to buy and when to buy it? The catastrophe adjusting business was my most lucrative endeavor of the last decade, but it’s feast or famine. In the end, the money that I thought I would make in sales just wasn’t there, at least for me. And there isn’t enough adjusting work, at least for me, to keep me on the bench waiting for a deployment.

So here I am, ready and willing to drive. The next few weeks will tell if I am actually able. I’ll keep you posted.