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Trucking Up


Bollweevil

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The truck speed limit in California is 55. That is not much for such a wide open area as I-40 between Barstow and the Arizona state line. But thats where I was, in the right lane, headed east. I had just passed the east bound rest area, which is at about the 22 mm, when an owner operator pulling a set of pups blew by. Come on big truck, she said I need to get this thing to Memphis. I can't do that I said. I always ran the speed limit until I got past Ludlow. CHP had a refueling stop at Ludlow. No sense in peeing on somebody's leg and trying to convince them it's raining. At least in the high desert anyway. Well, Ludlow was behind me and I had begun to pick up the throttle a little bit. I soon caught up with, and passed the girl with the doubles. I as I went by, she said, well you can run if you want to, do you mind if I tag along? No, I said just pay attention, and give yourself enough room if I have to get on the binders. Who am I talking to? Little Bo Peep is my handle. Ok, Bo Peep, call me Bollweevil, I'm just a looking for a home. A funny thing about the desert, radio reception is fantastic. 20 to 25 miles with a well tuned CB is not unusual. We ran along together for 15 or 20 miles, it was full dark by now, and we were running 30 0r 35 mph too fast for a bust your butt state like California. There were 5 or 6 drivers some where in front of me chattering away on the radio, and every time I tried to get a bear report, one of them would cover me up. After a while I began to get irritated. Bo Peep, I said, I can't run front door like this with all this racket. All I can hear is these guys bumping their gums. Out of the night came a voice " You Probably don't have a truck that will run the front door anyway, come on up here and we will show you what a front door truck looks like." Dang 98.6 to 212 in a 1/10th of a second. Kinda like saying sic-um to a bull dog. It took every bit of 30 min. to find them. I caught them on a long grade about about 10 mile before the Goffs cut off. I passed the last one just as we crested the hill and pulled back in line without saying anything. All the while these guys were running their mouth. Who is that? That looked like so and so. We were coming up on a slower truck and the truck behind me flashed his lights. I took the left lane and left. That driver said, I don't know who it was, but he's gone now. By the time I got to the Goff's exit, I couldn't see headlights behind me, so I took the exit pulled under the overpass and cut all the lights off. A they went by they were still chattering about the red truck with the turbo wing. Hee Hee Hee

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