<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289</id><updated>2012-02-16T00:37:15.551-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Collection of Stories</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>27</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-8989798156650597815</id><published>2008-06-05T14:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T15:17:32.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-8989798156650597815?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/8989798156650597815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=8989798156650597815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/8989798156650597815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/8989798156650597815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2008/06/ethel-burger.html' title=''/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-5000133049549531032</id><published>2008-03-29T14:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-29T14:55:15.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Killing Time in Texas</title><content type='html'>It seems like everytime that I have these lengthy layovers, I happen to be in Texas. Not that I don't like Texas, it just seems that I not moving a lot of the time that I'm here. Anyway, I'm an hour or so out from leaving and heading east. I plotted my course back to Huntsville in such a way that I'll arrive with ample time to deliver, but not so early that my break will be split up. So, kudos to me for that one. Last night I found the vital missing piece to my sound system in the truck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I've described this already, but just in case-- my sound system consists of a home stereo (of the sort with the speakers that you connect to the head unit), lots of cd's, and a 200 watt inverter to power it with. I plug the inverter up to my cig. lighter and voila I have great sound. The downside is that I have to deal with it skipping a lot. Sooooo, I decided that running the music directly off of my laptop is vital, so I set out to find a more powerful inverter, for a low price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And last night I did that. 400 watt, two outlet inverter for $40.00. My 200 watt, single outlet inverter cost me $34.00. So I'm proud of my find. I tested it out not long ago and it can power both my stereo and laptop at the same time, while the truck is off! This is a huge success for me. All that is left, is finding the cable to connect my laptop directly into my stereo. And for that, I'll take some time at a Wal-Mart-- which I'm sure to pass at some point on my way to Huntsville. If not-- I can deal with cd's for two more days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My back and arms are sore from having to deal with these incredibly shitty trailers that I keep getting stuck with. When the trailer isn't connected to the truck, the front portion of it sits on whats called "landing gear". In order to raise the landing gear once you connect to the truck, or lower it once you want to drop a trailer, you have to manually crank and rotate a lever connected to the side of the landing gear. More often than not, the landing gear isn't properly greased and you have to turn bright green and shred your clothing in order to get the trailer to move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you imagine me outside of a huge warehouse at night, orange industrial light flooding the area, next to a trailer cursing and groaning like a powerlifter? Because that's what happens nearly every single time now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite part is when I'm turning the landing gear lever, using all of my strength and weight to move it ever so slightly, and it just gives and I end up flipping over it landing on my back staring at the sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also seems to happen too often. And always when another trucker is around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep Reading.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-5000133049549531032?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/5000133049549531032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=5000133049549531032' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/5000133049549531032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/5000133049549531032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2008/03/killing-time-in-texas.html' title='Killing Time in Texas'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-6210600579874653523</id><published>2008-03-29T00:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T16:01:47.917-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Deep in the Heart of Texas (refrain)</title><content type='html'>Howdy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for the first time in a while, I can say "Howdy" and fit right in. This isn't the first time I've come to Texas, but I'd say it's been the most pleasant so far. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I was with my first trainer, we made it out to Dallas a couple of times. I knew that there weren't going to be cowboys all over the place, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't look down at everyone's feet to see if they were wearing boots, maybe even spurs. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everytime I make it to a different region of the country, I try to look for cultural differences, and seldom do I find the ones I'm looking for but occasionally I stumble upon more subtle ones. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A far as Texas goes, the only cultural difference I can think of is that they barbeque beef more than they do pork, which is way different than how things work in Alabama. That and they look better in their hats.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyhow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't make it as far as I would have liked after my last post, and I didn't make it anywhere close to Roswell by the time I had planned. On top of all of this, I ended up getting tired pretty quickly, and had to find a place to nap. I pulled over into a barren rest stop feeling exhausted and incredibly lonely for some reason. I'm sure it had something to do with being in the middle of the New Mexico desert for so many hundreds of miles without even seeing a town. It wouldn't have been nearly as bad if I had cellphone reception at the time, but it was like the entire state of New Mexico was a dead-zone. I fought the feelings of isolation and lonliness enough to fall asleep for about two hours. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I slept but I did not dream.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By the time I woke up, most of the sunlight had faded and it was time to drive a bit more. I inspected the truck briefly by flashlight, and was on my way. I drove for about another hundred miles before I called it quits for the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I lay in the back of the truck I found myself again feeling incredibly lonely, the pain sharp once more. For some reason I heard my father's voice in my head talking about how when he was on the road, he used to talk into his tape recorder, and I ended up reaching for mine. I noticed that I had already recorded four different things that I had forgotten about, so I decided to listen. The first three files were brief messages to myself, reminders of sorts. The last file though, was a forty minute series of stories from the first part of my road training.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I realized how truly lonely I really was and how badly I wanted somebody to talk with, when I found comfort in hearing my own voice coming from a tape recorder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up falling asleep with the recorder in my hand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;______________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I made it to Roswell in time for lunch. Aside from random alien crap here and there, not much to say about Roswell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to wonder what aliens would have been doing anywhere New Mexico to begin with. It really is boring out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made my delivery, and got my load assignment to head back home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;________________________________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made it to Amarillo today, where I picked up and then decided to spend the day. The company is trying to manipulate my off-time, and as a result gave me four days to make a 950 mile drive. I can make 500 miles in one day, 1000 in two. If I got to Huntsville when they EXPECTED me to, I'd have two days off, but on the second one, I'd have to make the delivery to the final destination-- effectively cutting my off time. So, instead I've resolved to take as much time as I can to get to Huntsville so I can have two full days off instead of just part of two days. So once I picked up my load, I decided to find a steakhouse that is near-legendary, and one that I visited with my father when he was driving, fourteen years ago.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't even sure that my route took me past this steakhouse or not, but I didn't care I headed to it like a moth to a flame. I knew the general area of it, and with the aid of a couple of helpful texans on the CB radio, I found my mark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Big Texan is known for it's 72 oz steak which is completely free. *if eaten in one hour. As I walked in the door, part of me wanted to go for the challenge, but when I saw the steak in a display case, I quickly changed my mind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-4A7rNVBnI/AAAAAAAAACM/crt_fxtbISY/s1600-h/IMG_4644.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183081246360929906" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-4A7rNVBnI/AAAAAAAAACM/crt_fxtbISY/s320/IMG_4644.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is literally the size of a pie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-4BsLNVBoI/AAAAAAAAACU/pqJkb0FB6CY/s1600-h/IMG_4645.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183082079584585346" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-4BsLNVBoI/AAAAAAAAACU/pqJkb0FB6CY/s320/IMG_4645.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I walked into the main dining room, I noticed a raised table in the middle of the room where two men were seated, apparently taking the steak challenge (as I like to call it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-3-W7NVBmI/AAAAAAAAACE/k164_J3WOAo/s1600-h/IMG_4654.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183078415977481826" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-3-W7NVBmI/AAAAAAAAACE/k164_J3WOAo/s320/IMG_4654.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I took their photo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a table located conveniently near an electrical outlet so I could power the ole' laptop, and proceeded to order a feast for myself in celebration of the end of my first two weeks by myself on the road.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ordered (and ate pretty much every bite):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a buffalo quesadilla&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a 22 oz ribeye steak (cooked medium rare) with baked beans and a loaded bake potato&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and a slice of cheesecake, covered with strawberries&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;plus some dinner rolls, and a few dr. pepper's of course&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously I don't eat like this all the time while I'm out here. Not only would it be insanely expensive, but also incredibly unhealthy haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My server was a charming girl named Kati (which I &lt;em&gt;think&lt;/em&gt; I'm spelling correctly) who really made my day. She was dressed in pink and sold me on pretty much every course of the meal. I was originally going to choose BBQ as a main course, but she informed me that I was in a &lt;em&gt;steakhouse&lt;/em&gt; so I should order accordingly. So I went with the ribeye, which I was going to have cooked medium, but thought twice about and changed to medium rare. Kati told me that was a good choice, haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Throughout the course of the meal, we chatted a bit about eachother. Nothing too in depth, but I found out she's in pre-law (if I remember correctly) and goes to school not far from Amarillo. She asked where I was from, and what brought me to Texas and I told her about trucking and why I was doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was nice to meet and talk to someone my age.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked her if I could take her picture to put on my blog, which I realized after I said it how strange it must have sounded, but she graciously obliged.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-39KbNVBlI/AAAAAAAAAB8/c0JfTtQUBoI/s1600-h/IMG_4665.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183077101717489234" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-39KbNVBlI/AAAAAAAAAB8/c0JfTtQUBoI/s320/IMG_4665.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left her a note thanking her for making me feel a little bit at home, and my blog address.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure, but if you're reading this-- thank you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner I headed across the street to a truck stop and backed into a space (for the first time at a truck stop by myself!) and quickly headed inside for a well-deserved shower and an internet session.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I head east for 275 miles, which should put me somewhere in Oklahoma, I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep Reading &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-6210600579874653523?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/6210600579874653523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=6210600579874653523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/6210600579874653523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/6210600579874653523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2008/03/deep-in-heart-of-texas-refrain.html' title='Deep in the Heart of Texas (refrain)'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-4A7rNVBnI/AAAAAAAAACM/crt_fxtbISY/s72-c/IMG_4644.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-5292679202568504053</id><published>2008-03-26T14:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T14:24:14.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Briefly</title><content type='html'>Hello from the New Mexico/ Colorado border. I'm heading to the southeastern corner of the state (New Mexico) to a place called Hobbs. I'm going to be delivering to a K-Mart, which before I got into trucking, I was sure did not exist anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A comedian was talking about K-Mart once: "I've got some advice for you if you haven't been to a K-Mart before, and might like to see one. Hurry"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I get to drive through Roswell NM on the way there, and I'm going to try to find a place to stop for the night. If I get the chance (which I should because I have plenty of time to get to Hobbs) and find a place to park I'm going to try to go to some sort of alien attraction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know they have them, I've seen the Sci-Fi channel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, after that I should be headed home for a few days which will bring my first two weeks of trucking to a close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep Reading.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-5292679202568504053?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/5292679202568504053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=5292679202568504053' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/5292679202568504053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/5292679202568504053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2008/03/briefly_26.html' title='Briefly'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-1058145946097285668</id><published>2008-03-25T01:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T16:01:48.892-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What-A-Burger</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-i8ULNVBdI/AAAAAAAAAA8/8-BSMZccT1g/s1600-h/IMG_4361.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181598426081854930" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-i8ULNVBdI/AAAAAAAAAA8/8-BSMZccT1g/s320/IMG_4361.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Photos from the What-A-Burger in Century, FL.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-i8UrNVBeI/AAAAAAAAABE/cmA4P0DbCsc/s1600-h/IMG_4364.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181598434671789538" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-i8UrNVBeI/AAAAAAAAABE/cmA4P0DbCsc/s320/IMG_4364.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The signed hat, take out menue, and compass they gave me-- all of which are now in my truck.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank You my new friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-1058145946097285668?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/1058145946097285668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=1058145946097285668' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/1058145946097285668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/1058145946097285668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2008/03/what-burger.html' title='What-A-Burger'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-i8ULNVBdI/AAAAAAAAAA8/8-BSMZccT1g/s72-c/IMG_4361.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-5498518637931213591</id><published>2008-03-25T01:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T16:01:49.870-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Colorado-Bound or The Day I Got My Truck Stuck</title><content type='html'>8:48 AM 3/24/2008 Target Distribution Center, Pueblo Colorado-- Bobtail Lot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let me first begin by saying how incredible the terrain is out here. I've never seen anything quite like this before. I drove 548 miles yesterday, most of it was within the Texas state lines. It's just like the movies out here. The ground is dry, yellowing, and has small dead-looking shrubs scattered about. I suspect that these are what eventually become tumbleweeds, which I didn't see at all. I saw for the first time in my life (at least in person) a wind-farm and windmills. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's bizarre to be driving in near untouched territory and then come around a curve and see patches of gigantic windmills all over the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For some reason, it gave me the creeps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Somehow, just across the New Mexico state line, the land changed. It went from flat, yellow, and almost diseased-looking to mountainous, green, and fertile. I really don't understand how an invisible state line could yield such a change, but it did. And then it got cold. It went from maybe sixty-ish to the mid-to-low-forties. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I was still driving with the windows down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I passed through New Mexico into Colorado quickly (I only drove 50-80 miles within NM) and then into the mountains. I'm fairly sure what I was driving in was not the Rockies, but they were certainly huge to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I felt like something of a Spanish explorer, seeing these things for the first time. At one point on the mountain, I looked down through the snow-dusted trees and saw an AmTrak passenger train snaking it's way through the area and it really solidified the fact that this was all totally foreign, but very amazing to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I ended up spending the night at a rest stop in Colorado City, about 35 miles away from Pueblo, CO which is my final destination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here I sit watching my breath pass by, waiting for my trailer to be unloaded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Once I'm finished here, I am taking a strategically-placed 34 hour break to reset my hours for the week. I feel clever because Lauren is driving down from Denver to pick me up so I can spend my break in a new city, visiting with a good friend. It was all very spur of the moment, and just happened to fall into place at the last second.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, a story from a few days ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-----------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This past Thursday I was driving through Louisiana on my way to Laredo when it was time to pull off the interstate to my fuel-stop in Lafayette. As I exited and made the turn onto the road where the truck stop I was supposed to fuel up at, I noticed two cop cars fly past me with their lights flashing. I looked ahead to where they had to have been going and it turned out that the truck stop I was assigned to fuel up at, was surrounded by HazMat teams, police, firefighters, and ambulances. For some unknown reason the entire place had been evacuated, and I definitely wasn't getting in. So I drove past it and began to look for a place to turn around. I had driven maybe 10 miles and was beginning to get impatient when I stumbled upon what looked like a perfect candidate for a turnaround.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm going to try to explain this as best as I can... I apologize if it doesn't translate well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was a dirt parking lot on the corner of a four-way intersection and looked completely doable. So I passed the intersection on my right, made my first right hand turn into the lot, and made my way to the exit. The light had turned red, so traffic in the lane I was going to turn into was slowing and stopping and it looked like nobody was going to let me out. A guy in a white Camry stopped before the exit of the lot so I made my turn. The cars had stacked up a bit at the light, so I didn't have room to completely turn into the lane, and was jutting out into oncoming traffic. So I cut back in hard to let traffic through, consequently making my turn very narrow. I saw in my right rearview mirrow that the back trailer wheels were in danger of falling into a small ditch if I didn't take the turn as wide as possible. I knew there was about a 50% chance that they were going to go into the ditch if I pulled forward, but backing up wasn't an option because I had traffic stopped already behind me. So I pulled forward slowly and the trailer wheels fell straight into the ditch. What I did not expect to happen, was the weight of the trailer to torque the tractor to the point of lifting the wheels off of the ground. I gave it gas, trying to pull the trailer out not knowing that my wheels were just spinning in the air. Once I saw I wasn't moving, I got out to survey the damage. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-jARLNVBgI/AAAAAAAAABU/TxZHUu6APGc/s1600-h/IMG_4395.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181602772588758530" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-jARLNVBgI/AAAAAAAAABU/TxZHUu6APGc/s320/IMG_4395.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can imagine my surprise and embarassment when I saw the situation. I was completely blocking one lane of traffic, and partially blocking the other (it was a two lane road). More than any of that though, I had a sinking feeling when I realized that the trailer (which had 45,000 lbs of weight in the back) was leaning so badly that it was only a few degrees from flipping the over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seeing part of your truck completely off of the ground is not a good thing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And blocking two lanes of traffic on a two lane road wasn't cool either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-jAR7NVBiI/AAAAAAAAABk/8g8FwRC54LU/s1600-h/IMG_4401.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181602785473660450" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-jAR7NVBiI/AAAAAAAAABk/8g8FwRC54LU/s320/IMG_4401.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A cop who had been watching the whole thing from a car-wash across the street started walking over to me and I met him halfway in the now-blocked street. He was pretty pissed at first and asked me what I intended to do to fix the situation and I told him that I wasn't exactly sure how this was going to get fixed, but to give me a few minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-jARbNVBhI/AAAAAAAAABc/BfA3XEJINwQ/s1600-h/IMG_4396.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181602776883725842" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-jARbNVBhI/AAAAAAAAABc/BfA3XEJINwQ/s320/IMG_4396.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got back into the truck and sent a message to the company through the computer letting them know that I was stuck, and to send help. I got a response saying that they were sending a truck-tow-truck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-jAQrNVBfI/AAAAAAAAABM/PqY5TbKpKQw/s1600-h/IMG_4400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181602763998823922" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-jAQrNVBfI/AAAAAAAAABM/PqY5TbKpKQw/s320/IMG_4400.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Before I got into the trucking industry I wasn't ever sure that something like that existed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;During my training, we broke down in St. Louis and had to enlist the help of one, so I knew what to expect this time. I was curious to see exactly how the tow truck driver was going to approach this one though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;About thirty minutes after I sent the call for help to the company, I saw my tow truck approaching. It pulled into the parking lot and stopped with a great hiss of air and dust. A huge beast of a man climbed out of the truck wearing sunglasses and a name-patch on his shirt that said simply, "Big John-- Supervisor"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-jASLNVBjI/AAAAAAAAABs/8yaxNMTZn4M/s1600-h/IMG_4405.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181602789768627762" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-jASLNVBjI/AAAAAAAAABs/8yaxNMTZn4M/s320/IMG_4405.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I knew it was serious when I saw that they sent out the big guns, haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He reached into the side of the truck and pulled out a set of massive chains which he dragged towards me, one in each hand. As he approached me menacingly he asked without looking at me, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"How much is in the trailer?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Forty-five" I responded, wondering if this man was going to kill me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He proceeded to attach the chains to the back of the trailer and then move his truck into the street. He opened a compartment that was filled with levers, and pulled a red one which extended legs which were going to be used for stabilization from the truck to the ground. He walked around to the other side and did the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I stood back, and watched as somehow this man managed to completely lift my trailer out of the ditch and back into the street, using a mini-crane on the back of his truck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The entire process lasted maybe twenty minutes. Once he was finished, I asked if he would let me take a picture of him. When I did this, his beastly exterior melted away as he looked down at him self fancifully and asked "In THESE clothes?" He reminded me of a girl. I smiled as he posed against the truck for the photo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-jAtbNVBkI/AAAAAAAAAB0/q97zvY2Uj70/s1600-h/IMG_4408.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181603257920063042" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-jAtbNVBkI/AAAAAAAAAB0/q97zvY2Uj70/s320/IMG_4408.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Moral of the story: take turns wide and you can never be sure who wants their picture taken.&lt;br /&gt;---------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm Denver-bound, sans-truck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Keep reading. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-5498518637931213591?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/5498518637931213591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=5498518637931213591' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/5498518637931213591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/5498518637931213591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2008/03/colorado-bound-or-day-i-got-my-truck.html' title='Colorado-Bound or The Day I Got My Truck Stuck'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2hDQvjyPH48/R-jARLNVBgI/AAAAAAAAABU/TxZHUu6APGc/s72-c/IMG_4395.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-1661763409145796504</id><published>2008-03-22T16:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T16:24:45.182-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Somewhere in Texas</title><content type='html'>Just a very brief post from somewhere in Texas. I'm at the top of a large hill/small mountain, sitting cross-legged in the grass watching the sun go down. Today is one of the good days. It's finally cooling down, and there is even a breeze. Hopefully sleeping tonight won't be uncomfortable as a result.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Made my first video for the video blog (which hasn't happened yet, but will as soon as I get a USB cable) which I've named, "The Truck Stop Walkthrough" Unoriginal I know, but who cares. Anyway, that should be up soon, and of course I'll inform everyone as to where that will be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Howdy from the Texas sunset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep Reading.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-1661763409145796504?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/1661763409145796504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=1661763409145796504' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/1661763409145796504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/1661763409145796504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2008/03/somewhere-in-texas.html' title='Somewhere in Texas'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-5473513796267149379</id><published>2008-03-21T16:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T17:04:24.661-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Am Leading a Double Life</title><content type='html'>The title says it all. I am truly leading a double life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, when I walked through the door of the truckstop today that said "professional drivers only" I was infiltrating foreign territory. I am not a truck driver, nor will I ever be. Driving a truck isn't even my profession. I don't feel at home or even totally comfortable amongst true truck drivers. I am merely playing a role. I feel like a spy. I feel guilty because I'm only using truck-driving as a tool to get out of debt, and back into school. It's merely a stepping stone whereas for the truck drivers, it's the whole damn ground they walk on. For me it's an option, for them its a last chance. This makes me feel like I don't belong. And I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The interesting part is, I can do it as well as any of them, maybe even better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I drive a truck I can get away with certain things. I can smell a little bit like a days worth of hard work, and nobody will think twice. I can wear whatever the fuck I want, and not have to worry because everyone else will look just as bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to them-- it's the uniform.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can talk as poorly as I want, and everyone will understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can get away with not shaving for a week, which is nice sometimes. Today I'm on day 4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is my trucking life, and then there is my normal life-- which is what I consider real life. My friends keep me going through all of this, though when I'm on the road it feels like I'm talking to them from another dimension. From outer space or something. And when they happen to interact with me inside the trucking world, well it's just strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I look at people in cars or on the street who are looking at me as I drive the truck, I can't help but think to myself, "You really just have no idea who I am, do you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know what I look like, but I am not a truck driver. Nor will I ever be one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise I clean up nice, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_______________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello from Laredo, Texas. I feel like I'm in another country. I've heard more Spanish than I have English today, some of it from myself-- very poorly though. I got the load to Laredo from Flomaton, Florida on time but just barely. With twelve minutes to spare, in fact. I ran into a bit of a problem yesterday, which I'll post about later this evening, but due to that and taking a bit too much time with my friends, I had to really focus and plan well to get the load to Texas on time. Truth be told, I was nearly certain that I wasn't going to be able to make it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, I did it. And it really made my morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to back the truck up to a very tough spot, quite tight, and a trucker who was standing by ended up guiding me in (that sounds so damn dirty-- I apologize haha). It took me about 15-20 minutes, but I put the truck where it needed to go. And the way I look at it is, if I can do that and keep having to do that-- I'll get pretty good pretty quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got the bill of lading, and that finished my second trip by myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a load of cotton, by the way. 35,000 lbs worth. I think I'm going to keep a list of the materials I'm carrying and the weight. In fact, I'm going to keep a list of all the places I stop, all the roads I travel, the people I meet, and just interesting things from the road. Then, once I'm done put everything in a box and leave it alone for a few months. Then revisit it, and see what happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking of trying to write a book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll see how that works out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm going to start using my voice recorder from the road. It'll help to pass the time, and I can cover a lot of ground pretty quickly, and record things as I think of them. I find myself thinking some pretty profound, and at times quite strange, things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These things need to be recorded, ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I may get a paycheck this coming week. If not, that will suck-- but what can you do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Laredo is very dusty and very hot. It really is like another country in a lot of different ways. US border patrol guards are sitting at a table not far from me, which I've never seen before. Ironically, their server is Mexican. There is something to be said about that, though I'm not sure what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier today I got stuck in a Spanish-speaking section of town on a non-truck route, and knew only enough Spanish to ask, "Where is the interstate?" but not enough to understand anyone's responses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, it's time to go clean the truck up a bit-- and then take a shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then of course, more posting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep Reading.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-5473513796267149379?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/5473513796267149379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=5473513796267149379' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/5473513796267149379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/5473513796267149379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-am-leading-double-life.html' title='I Am Leading a Double Life'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-654807880318205132</id><published>2008-03-20T20:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T20:15:22.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Flomaton, AL</title><content type='html'>1:59 PM 3/19/2008 Flomaton AL, dirt patch next to Flomaton High School, driver's seat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, parking is one of my biggest concerns so far. I can back up the truck pretty much however I need to though sometimes it may take a while. I can drive for hours on end on the interstate (anybody can keep it in between the lines), and operate it however I need to. Parking though, is a different story. At night, truck stops and rest stops fill up so there is no space which forces you to be a little creative in your parking, or you readjust your driving times. So far I've parked in front of a closed bbq cafe, at a yet-to-be-built truck stop, in front of a no parking sign at a truck stop, and a rest stop spot I found by chance. Last night however, I found the best place so far, and if I'm ever within 20 miles of this place again I'll come back without a doubt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was driving through really small and rural Florida towns, I became more and more intent on finding a place to park in the near future. I only saw one other big truck in front of me, so I asked on the CB if he knew a decent place to park and he told me there was a What-a-burger right on the corner of the place I was supposed to turn off at. So I took his advice and gingerly crept into the place, not sure if it was going to work out yet or not. Once I got in though, I saw that it was an ideal place. I didn't have to back into a spot, I could just pull through. Once I parked I went inside to check how far the shipper was from there, and found out it was less than 10 miles away. That sealed the deal and I went back to the truck, turned it off, and logged off for the night. I couldn't contain my appetite, so I had to order some food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was standing and staring at the menu, I made small talk with the manager and the girl working the counter. When they started talking to me as though I was a normal person I knew right away that it was a really good thing that I had chosen to stay there for the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have found that many people think that because I am driving a truck, I am a moron. I don't mean they think I'm foolish for choosing to drive a truck, I mean that they think a am a fool BECAUSE I drive a truck. So a lot of the times I am faced with condesending tones, holier-than-thou attitudes, and just plain nastiness. Now, I am by no means a genius and brilliant isn't a word I'd use to describe myself, but I am certainly not stupid. It's insulting to be judged before I even get a chance to speak. and being labeled is no fun. I've never really run into anything like this before, so it's definitely an interesting experience. I don't even try to fight it though, because once people have made up their minds that 2+2= 5, there is no convincing them otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really can't count the number of times though that I've had people look at me like I took a shit on their shoes when I try to talk to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I drive a truck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, having people treat me like a normal person was great and it really helps to fight the ever-present lonliness thats lurking out on the road. They asked me how long I had been driving and I told them it was actually my fourth or fifth day out on the road. I was quick to tell them that it was only a temporary thing, a way to get out of debt and get back into college. Whenever anyone takes the time to talk me, I find myself always quickly explaining that its not permanent. That I'm not a truck driver, just a guy who's driving a truck. There is a big difference. As I tried paying for my meal, my card was declined and I was short a couple of bucks. The manager, who had either driven truck before or has a husband who did-- I can't remember, told me she knew how it was starting out and not to worry about it, she'd take care of it. I was taken totally aback by her kindness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I sat down and ate my meal I was aware of how far I was from home but somehow I felt comfortable where I was at that moment. It's strange having two conflicting sets of... comforts... staring eachother in the face. The burger was good, and the soda was great also (I totally broke my diet) and then I found out two very important and exciting pieces of information: 1. They had wi-fi that was FREE and 2. The lobby was open 24 hours. I quickly ran outside, got my laptop, and set up shop inside. Once I had settled in, I asked all the employees and the two managers if I could take a picture. They kindly obliged and then all conspired together and gave me a whataburger hat signed by all of them. As well as a take out menu, a compass (they told me it was for if I ever lost my way, it would help me find my way back to my friends-- I have it hanging right in front of me in the truck. I don't think they'll know the meaning I've attached to it) and a card that was good for a free combo meal. They really took care of me there. I got an e-mail address and a myspace page from them, and I told them to circulate my blog address once I gave it to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if any of you are reading this-- you really made a traveller and a lonely guy feel at home. So thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent a good six hours or so doing things I had put off doing for lack of internet connection, and as a result my laptop is pretty much completely up to par. AND I just figured out how to power the laptop from inside the truck-- the battery (SP) is pretty terrible. So, I should be able to update a bit more often now. And as soon as I get a USB cable I'll be adding pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I sit and wait for Brittany, Dan, and Taylor to meet me on their way back to Auburn. As it turns out, my route to Texas and their route intersect so I'm taking a bit of time to hang out with them, because I can never have too much of a set of friendly faces. (So much for not blending personal time and business)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If each day was like the last 24 hours, I think this whole experience will be a great one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep reading.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-654807880318205132?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/654807880318205132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=654807880318205132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/654807880318205132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/654807880318205132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2008/03/flomaton-al.html' title='Flomaton, AL'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-5684189103710574821</id><published>2008-03-19T01:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T01:09:32.069-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Friends</title><content type='html'>Thank you so much to all of my friends. I'm so very lucky to know all of you. Without you all, I'd be dying out here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's terribly lonely at times on the road, especially at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But knowing that I have people out there, wondering about me, maybe even reading...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it helps.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-5684189103710574821?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/5684189103710574821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=5684189103710574821' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/5684189103710574821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/5684189103710574821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2008/03/my-friends.html' title='My Friends'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-5036713694323569733</id><published>2008-03-19T01:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T01:04:25.338-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ebro, Florida</title><content type='html'>5:22 PM 3/17/2008 Ebro, Florida (in between Panama City and Destin), Ebro Cafe table by the door&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I sit, four days into my solo trucking career stuck in one spot for the second time in two days. It feels incredible to be driving by myself and I can honestly say that I am the happiest that I have ever been alone. I was assigned my truck on Thursday, and assigned a load the next day. Much to my surprise and satisfaction the load picked up in Memphis, stopped near Little Rock Arkansas, and then delivered in Madison Alabama. I couldn't think of a better destination for my first run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip to Little Rock was totally uneventful, which is the way I would like it to be every time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I got to Little Rock to the Target distribution center where I was delivering part of the load, I met a dock worker named Dewey who was the man unloading my truck. We spoke about what it was like working in a warehouse and ways that it can be improved.&lt;br /&gt;During my training I became more and more interested in the business side of the transportation and supply-chain industry. I've been speaking at length with my friend Dan Nguyen about his degree and future career in supply-chain management and the more I hear him talk about it and hear how passionate he is about it, the more I realize how passionate I am when I speak about it and the more I really think that once I get into school I'm going to pursue that particular degree. And with the amount of time that I end up spending in the trucking industry, I'll be practically guarenteed a job. Which would be nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But really, who knows?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Little Rock it was off to Huntsville. It took about forever to get the truck loaded so I could only make it to Memphis before it was time to turn in. I didn't mind at all because at the time the sky over Memphis looked like the second coming might be happening, so pulling over wasn't that big of an issue. I had to go to two different truck stops before I could find a spot to park, and even then it was right next to a No Parking sign. I decided to try my luck seeing as how it was a truck stop sign and not a local gov. one. It took me just about forever to parallel park my truck which was upsetting because at the academy, I could do it without a problem. My confidence level just isn't up yet, and I think as a result my ability is suffering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the morning time came my time to head off to Madison.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made it there in decent time, and even stopped at a tiny little store/truck stop in Mississippi for long enough to get a shower, which was nice. Once I got to the Target distribution center, I dropped my trailer and left the grounds feeling great having successfully delivered my first load.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I took off to Huntsville.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was driving, I got a load assignment to pick up a load in... wait for it... PANAMA CITY BEACH FLORIDA! That's two out of two load assignments that were great places to go. Now I can say that I went to Panama City Beach for Spring break. So, the plan was to take only ten hours in Huntsville and get down to Panama City Beach as quickly as possible so as to maybe be able to sit down and have some nice seafood. But as plans normally go, this one didn't work out. I spent a good four hours of my originally planned ten hour break showing the truck to my family and taking them on a short ride in it, nearly getting stuck in the process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During this time I decided that I wasn't ever going to take the truck anywhere else that I don't know for sure that it CAN go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to Walmart at some point, bought truck supplies, and then ended up taking it back home anyway to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning it was off to Panama City Beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have found out that while I'm on company time if I am not in the truck, or doing something to work towards my final destination, I am frantic and frazzled. So I have decided that under most circumstances I am never going to blend personal friend time with business time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am much too fond of my friends and would almost certainly be late as a result.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The drive to Panama city Beach was great. Incredible, even. I stopped at the Florida welcome center and treated myself to some fresh orange juice, which tasted heavenly. Seeing as how my truck did not have a satisfactory sound system in it, I bought an inverter and put home stereo in it. So as anyone could guess, I listened to much house music (DAFT PUNK) on the way down. If I pretended hard enough, I could almost imagine that I was one of the many spring-breakers that I was being passed by on the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I got to Panama City, I got directions from a drunk man on a bicycle and found my way to the shipper, where I was issued a hard hat and safety goggles. I weaved my way through this mill which smelled of cabbage, backed the truck up to the dock, and then was told that I wasn't going to be loaded because the trailer was too old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then I spent the rest of the night searching for a trailer, which was a bust, and ended up parking at a rest stop-- feeling like shit. I felt discouraged, useless, and most of all like a failure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, it was my responsibility to ensure that the trailer I hooked up to in Madison was of a certain age. This I did not do (I didn't know untill afterward that I was supposed to) and as a result the load was going to be late. My second load.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I washed up, worked out (I've brought my weights on the road), talked on the phone, and then&lt;br /&gt;crashed hard untill morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up around noon with no word of what I was going to do and where I was going to go next. I washed up, inspected the truck, wiped the windows and mirrors down, and called Swift to find out what was up. I spoke with my driver manager who explained to me that these things happen and that I'm a new driver and that it's no big deal. I'd be lying if I said that hearing this man tell me this didn't take a huge weight off of my shoulders. He told me to head to Destin to find a trailer. En-route to Destin I called where I was supposed to be going to verify that they even HAD any empty trailers to swap out with to find that they did not.&lt;br /&gt;And that brings me to the Ebro cafe. I pulled off to wait for further instruction and stepped inside to find an outlet to plug the laptop up to, and to grab a bite to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three glasses of water and one plate of rice and gravy later I'm still waiting on Swift to let me know what's up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a way I'm glad I'm seeing the shortcomings of this company like this, because I think it'll give me an idea of what needs to be improved if I ever get into the upper-level side of the industry.&lt;br /&gt;So for now I'm going to step outside, listen to the wind in the palm fronds, and wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(sorry for any spelling errors. I haven't been proof reading anything lately)&lt;br /&gt;_______________&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-5036713694323569733?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/5036713694323569733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=5036713694323569733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/5036713694323569733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/5036713694323569733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2008/03/ebro-florida.html' title='Ebro, Florida'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-6040059125437104661</id><published>2008-03-18T18:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T19:03:00.620-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Back!</title><content type='html'>1:26 AM 3/14/2008&lt;br /&gt;It feels like it's been forever since I updated, and the reason being is probably because it has been forever. Before I cover the present, let me cover the past first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On March 4th, I finally completed my road training. I spent a total of 45 days on the road. Without doubt or uncertainty I can say that it was one of the most difficult things I've ever done in my entire life. Spending six weeks on the road with a total stranger who you have nothing in common with, and are forced to be taught by-- is something nobody is used to. Nor should they be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I left for training, I made a surprise visit to Auburn to visit all of my friends and to surplus my interactions with people I cared about because I knew that I'd be hard pressed for things like that once I got on the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day came for me to leave to Memphis once again. on a Greyhound bus once again. I hated it, once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I arrived in Memphis tired, but ready to take care of business. I had little trouble switching to business mode once i left Auburn. I was worried that I'd be left feeling empty and alone once I departed but the transition was very cut and dry, which was a relief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had two different trainers during the course of my time on the road. The first man was a fourty-five year old black man named Antonio that I had nothing in common with, and very much disliked. But, I knew that training was going to be a lot like boot camp and comfort really wasn't going to be in the cards for me. My very first trip was from Memphis, TN to Louisville Kentucky. About twenty minutes into the drive, Antonio told me he was going to go to sleep, which is totally against the rules for training. The mentor isn't supposed to sleep at all during the first week of training. If they do, it's something they could get fired for, without question. At the time I knew it was a little fishy, but I just kind of dealt with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the two weeks I drove with Antonio, I was driven hard. Most of the time I was tired, and most of the time I smelled bad. It's funny in a way going from showering twice a day to maybe once every two or three. It became clear to me that Antonio was more focused on making money than he was with providing me with safe and adequete training. Mentors not only get paid for the miles that they drive, but also for the mileage of the student (who is on salary during training) So Antonio pressed for a ton of miles that at the time I wasn't totally prepared to handle. But, I did it and I kept quiet for two weeks untill one night he got a DOT (department of transportation) ticket at a scale house on the way back to Memphis. It turns out he didn't have a valid medical card (which any driver with a CDL is required to have on his person, at all times) He tried to argue with the state trooper who was issuing the ticket, and was nearly taken to jail as a result. All of this while I looked on thinking to myself that I needed to a new trainer. Once I got back to Memphis, I took a few days to think about it while he was on home time and decided to go ahead and make the move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My next trainer was a 38 year old black man named Jacques Pierre. He was short, bald, and I had nothing in common with this man as well. Pierre was a helicopter pilot in the navy at one point, then when he retired from there he got a job as an FBI field agent. Both of his parents fell ill with cancer though, and so he gave up the best job of his life to take care of the people that birthed him. Very admirable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My time with Pierre was long and stressful. As a person he's alright, but as a teacher he was pretty terrible. But I did my best to hold my tongue and to absorb everything he taught me and somehow I made ith through the six weeks. At times, it was near grueling. But the part that was tough wasn't being on the road, it was being on the road in close proximity with essentially a stranger for six weeks straight. I think it would push anyone's patience to the limits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not once during those six weeks did it ever feel like work. Not one time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow most of my time on the road wasn't lonely. Maybe it was because I was focusing on learning something totally new or maybe it was because leaving everything you know behind has some sort of strange appeal to it. All of my dissappeared more and more with each passing line painted on the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During my six weeks of road training I travelled to 24 states, saw some of the most beautiful city skylines at night, tromped around in close to two feet of snow, saw a lunar eclipse, grew a beard, missed home, missed people, thought of ex girlfriends, kicked myself for thinking of ex girlfriends, grew closer to many people who I haven't been close to in a while, and grew as a person in ways I never knew that I could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Making this decision is easily one of the best decisions I've ever made in my life.&lt;br /&gt;___________________&lt;br /&gt;If this post seems rushed and uninspired, it's mainly because it is. I apologize. I'm in a situation here where I have so much to talk about but little time to type it all out. In order to not fall behind I've sacrificed meaningful contenta bit here. Expect more updates soon, and current ones at that. I'm going to come back to stories from training though, so more things will be addressed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-6040059125437104661?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/6040059125437104661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=6040059125437104661' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/6040059125437104661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/6040059125437104661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2008/03/im-back_18.html' title='I&apos;m Back!'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-5223056967849682091</id><published>2008-03-18T18:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T19:15:31.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-5223056967849682091?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/5223056967849682091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=5223056967849682091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/5223056967849682091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/5223056967849682091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2008/03/im-back.html' title=''/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-6642099743781988142</id><published>2008-03-12T15:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T15:09:39.662-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Reassurance</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I have returned. True updates will be coming soon. Very soon. Within a day or two soon. I went a little crazy this past weekend and have been busy after that. A thousand apologies. Soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-6642099743781988142?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/6642099743781988142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=6642099743781988142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/6642099743781988142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/6642099743781988142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2008/03/reassurance.html' title='The Reassurance'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-3380345134298565896</id><published>2008-01-20T09:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-20T09:23:03.389-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time to Go</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;It's time. I leave on a greyhound one last time to Memphis tonight at 6:55 pm. After a surprise visit to Auburn that gave me exactly what I needed before I go on the road, I'm ready. It's time. I'll admit I'm a bit nervous once more, like I was before I went off to trucking school. If I had to guess why, it's because I really don't know exactly what to expect. It seems like at Swift, they really like to keep the trainee guessing. Whether it just happens that way or it's not planned, it works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leave on the bus.&lt;br /&gt;Get to Memphis.&lt;br /&gt;Take a shuttle from the Memphis Greyhound station to the Swift terminal.&lt;br /&gt;Pick up a hotel voucher.&lt;br /&gt;Go to the hotel.&lt;br /&gt;Sleep in a building one last time.&lt;br /&gt;Wake up, meet trainer at 11:00 AM&lt;br /&gt;Go on the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a good chance that I'll be on the road for six weeks straight. But, at the same time I think it's more likely that I'll either make it back to Huntsville or Memphis (where my trainer lives) every two weeks or so. If the trainer goes back to Memphis without taking me to Huntsville first, I stay in a hotel. The whole time I'm out, I'm getting paid-- with minimal spending-- so that should be pretty great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's time everybody. I'm nervous, but I'm ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to adventure. Lets start this one, shall we?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-3380345134298565896?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/3380345134298565896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=3380345134298565896' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/3380345134298565896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/3380345134298565896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2008/01/time-to-go.html' title='Time to Go'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-6446939641831067674</id><published>2007-12-21T01:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-21T02:24:16.299-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Catch-Up</title><content type='html'>Sorry for the lack of update. The last week I lost my computer hook-up, so I had no way to get things taken care of. Anyhow,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last week of my training was dedicated to road training. We left the range behind and started dealing with real roads, real traffic, and the very real chance of wrecking the truck and ending my trucking before it really even begins. My road instructor's name is Paw Paw. I shit you not. Everyone on the range and even people in the towns we trained in called him that. He was a big, round, chain-smoking, and jolly old man. Along with him, there were three other students on the truck at all times. Our shifts lasted from 4:30 PM until around 2:30 AM. Each student got around two hours of driving time with plenty of breaks in between, so it wasn't that bad at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first night we drove out to a place everyone called the shifting pad. The shifting pad was located in Jericho, Arkansas-- just 45 minutes or so from Millington. Basically all it was was a loop of surface roads on either side of the interstate with truck stops at each end. One lap around the loop was 14 miles. It turns out that as goofy as Paw Paw was, he turned out to be a great instructor. When it was my turn to drive, before I even turned the truck on, he explained the concept of how to shift the truck (which is so very different than shifting gears on a car) Then, I started the truck up, and went to work. Before we went out the first night, I was pretty worried about learning how to shift the trucks. Hearing everyone else talk about it, you get the impression that its damn near impossible. But it was pretty damn easy once you were in the driver's seat. At least, shifting up is. Downshifting is a bit of a different story. Though it wasn't exactly hard, it required much more effort than shifting up. But after 14 miles of shifting all the way up (the transmission on the truck I was driving was a 10 speed) and all the way down, I got it pretty well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second night was dedicated pretty much to learning how to deal with traffic and how to go about making left and right hand turns. Most everyone has seen an eighteen-wheeler turn at a light before and known that it was a lot different than a car. Due to something called offtracking, the ass-end of the trailer moves on a different path than the tractor. Because of this, you have to take turns extremely wide. On right hand turns, you have to take up oncoming traffic's turning lane, and on left hand turns you have to take the tractor all the way to the far curb. If you don't do a turn correctly, you run the risk of running the trailer on a curb or knocking over signs and lights, or destroying cars. So needless to say, the pressure was on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beyond that, the rest of the time was dedicated to connecting the dots between shifting, turning, and basic skills necessary in driving a vehicle that large. The title of the week on the road could have easily been, "Which Damn Gear Am I In Again?!" So through the week of driving, I sharpened my skills and I learned how to drive the truck around the city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came Tuesday, my scheduled day for the road test. For some reason, I was incredibly nervous. But also incredibly excited about the prospect of coming back to Huntsville, having accomplished everything I set out to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then it was done. I passed my test with flying colors and I bussed back home with a CDL in my hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here I am. I'm still tired from this and that, so rest is definitely needed. While I was on the truck, but not driving, I wrote down a bunch of ideas and quotes that had been floating around in my mind, so I'll probably write those in here in the next few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until then, I need sleep!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-6446939641831067674?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/6446939641831067674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=6446939641831067674' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/6446939641831067674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/6446939641831067674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2007/12/catch-up.html' title='The Catch-Up'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-4232956222061976057</id><published>2007-12-20T01:47:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T01:49:14.514-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The End of Training</title><content type='html'>I passed my road test. I am now a CDL-holder. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been up 38 hours, so I'm going to get sleep. Peaceful sleep for the first time in 3 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A more detailed update(s) soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-4232956222061976057?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/4232956222061976057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=4232956222061976057' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/4232956222061976057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/4232956222061976057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2007/12/end-of-training.html' title='The End of Training'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-6765068965027815162</id><published>2007-12-12T12:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T13:25:23.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The First Day on the Road/ How I Once Again Found Myself Contemptlating Life in Wal-Mart</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;I initially wrote that I would have the number of barrels I destroyed whilst practicing my basic skills to report. And that number is... 0! As it turns out, the barrels are pretty hard to destroy, let alone even knock over. I did manage to bump into a few of them and scoot a smaller number than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did manage to completely destroy a flashlight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if you've ever wondered, "Can a flashlight withstand being ran over by an eighteen-wheeler?" the answer is a resounding "NO"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, we finally took these monsters out on the open road with traffic and all last night. The instructor drove our group through Memphis, TN over the Mississippi River, and into Arkansas where "the shifting pad" is located. In a small town called Jericho, Arkansas there's a 7 -mile stretch of surface road 'longside the highway that we practice shifting on. That was the main objective of last night, to learn how to shift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shifting a truck, at least the way the Federal Government wants you to in order to attain your CDL, is nothing like shifting your car. One has to do something called double-clutching in order to make it work. What that means, is that instead of just pushing in the clutch and holding it in while you take the car out of gear and shift to the next one; you have to push in the clutch to take the truck out of gear, let it out, and then push it back in while you put the truck into the next gear. And your timing has to be just right, or else you're likely to miss a gear and really mess things up. The trucks we're driving also have 10 gears, so thats something new as well. And downshifting... also a pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In conclusion, shifting gears in a tractor-trailer is nothing like shifting gears in a car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, after an hour and a half of driving, I've got it. At first I felt like something must have been wrong, because I picked up on it much faster than everyone else here said I would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On that note, I've noticed that there are a lot of negative people within the trucking industry. Nay-sayers, pessamists, know-it-alls, people who love to argue, assholes, etc. There was a span of three-four days where I would try to reason with some of these people, or convince them that things aren't that bad but, when people refuse to see things positively on their own, they're not going to let somebody else help them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody here even told me that they were "going to lay you the fuck out" because I was trying to convince him that the test was graded this way, when he thought it was going to be graded another way. If he went on thinking that it was graded that certain way, he wouldn't make it. I tried reasoning with him, but it didn't work. He ended up failing his basic skills tests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried, I really did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've resolved to just keep my mouth shut and not interfere with anyone's path here. It's best for me and it's best for them, I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's very much against my nature, but I have to keep in mind that I'm not here to make friends. I already have great ones back home. I'm here to get my CDL, and then move on. It's tough to think that way, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, for an emotional aside:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was standing in Wal-Mart, yet again, contemplaiting life the other night. I had walked there at around 1:00 AM to search for something to eat. I was standing in the soda section when the christmas tree song from &lt;em&gt;A Charlie Brown Christmas&lt;/em&gt; started playing. As strong as I've felt lately, and as sure as I am that I'm doing the right thing, I realized that I was immensely lonely. I lost myself in thoughts of how many people I miss. And worsely I found myself thinking of the women of my past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most I'm willing to admit here is that none of them are interested in the &lt;em&gt;least&lt;/em&gt; in what I'm doing and what I am feeling and thinking. I find it cruel that life/fate has an ironic way with contrasts. To be so important to someone, and to be so in tune with them, and to feel as though you would do anything for them-- and then its as though you've fallen off the face of the planet to them. As far as they're concerned, I think, I don't exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's all there is to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We go on the road again tonight. This time, we'll be in Memphis with a higher volume of traffic and more turns to make. In fact, I think tonight's focus will be learning how to turn correctly. Hopefully I'll get that as well as I did shifting gears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7 days untill I'm done here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-6765068965027815162?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/6765068965027815162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=6765068965027815162' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/6765068965027815162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/6765068965027815162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2007/12/first-day-on-road-how-i-once-again.html' title='The First Day on the Road/ How I Once Again Found Myself Contemptlating Life in Wal-Mart'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-889512996105455758</id><published>2007-12-09T12:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-09T13:05:55.196-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Next Step</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;I passed all three of my skills tests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By no means was I graceful in doing so, but I did it. And for someone who has never driven anything larger than an F-350 and never even dealt with a trailer, I think that's pretty damn impressive. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;If I can put this machine where I want it to go, in reverse, and with only 3-4 days of instruction, I think I can do just about anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The range is basically one trailer's worth of a classroom and about fifty tractors and trailers in the middle of an old navy airfield. The night shift (my shift) leaves for the range at around 4:00 pm, and ends at 2:00 am. The majority of this time, we're standing outside on the tarmac, practicing basic skills. We have groups of three. One person drives, while the other two walk outside the truck and offer advice. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;If you were to stop, and look around, it would seem like you were right in the middle of some sort of bizarre mechanical ballet. We stay in very low gears and don't even use the accelerator so it's almost as if everything is in slow-motion, with trucks bending and twisting around eachother and people walking 'long side them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;You can't help but feel a sense of awe that these machines can be manipulated in such a fashion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;The first day I got to the range, I experienced something that I don't think I'll ever forget...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we first got out to the trucks, after a brief bit of classroom instruction, they were all lined up in a row. We were supposed to wait for the instructors before starting the trucks, so during that time the only noise I could hear was the wind. That in itself wasn't the remarkable part. As I was standing there listening to the wind, it started to make a noise that I can only describe as singing. There were two distinct pitches that were in harmony with eachother that had to be produced by the wind cutting its way through and past the trucks. I closed my eyes and listened until the instructors made their way out to the trucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never heard anything like that in my life. It was like the air was alive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;At this point, the next step is to go through some class-time about shifting the truck and general safe road practices. I think I'll get tested on that in the next two days, and after that-- it's the road. Our groups of three will be in one truck, driving back and forth from here to Arkansas. As long as I can keep the truck in one lane, and not destroy stationary objects when I make right-hand turns, I should be ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the first days during class one of the instructors told me that in trucking, there are no days, only dates. Days to a truck driver, mean nothing. I don't even have my full CDL yet and already this is becoming more and more true. Today is Sunday. I thought for sure that it was Friday, or Saturday at the latest. The days are losing meaning and blurring together into one long string of sun ups and sun downs. I'm not quite used to this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more week to go, and then it's a bus back to Huntsville with empty pockets and a CDL in my hand. Once I get back to town I have a few things that are on my list of things to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Sleep untill I can't&lt;br /&gt;2. Go to Mason's and get an ice-cold beer and a rueben sandwich&lt;br /&gt;3. Go downtown, and take a walk through the park and the surrounding neighborhoods&lt;br /&gt;4. Find somebody to take a walk with me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;5. Thank everyone profusely who has helped me get here and through this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;6. Tie up some loose ends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I end this with a text message that I got the other night from a good friend.  I am incredible fortunate to have people like this in my life. In times of weakness, its the people you surround yourself with and call your friends that will keep you going when you don't think you can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Your hard work is getting me through finals. It used to be different where I would work to be in a better spot than you as motivation, but now I have to work as you are. I am proud of how well you're doing over there. Keep up the good work. I'll do the same. God I just want to sleep but no. I will continue.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-889512996105455758?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/889512996105455758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=889512996105455758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/889512996105455758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/889512996105455758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2007/12/next-step.html' title='The Next Step'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-1917636707472464156</id><published>2007-12-08T13:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-08T13:18:39.974-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Big Three</title><content type='html'>The big three. The skills tests. Straight-line backing, parallel parking, and offset backing. As of right now, I've already passed straight-line backing, so that leaves two. I have parallel down to a science. Who would have ever thought that I would ever learn how to parallel park an eighteen wheeler?! I can't even parallel park my car...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as offset goes, with a little more practice tonight, I'll pass just fine. Hopefully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got the antibiotics so I should be back up to par soon. Not to mention the tea and vitamin C that I've been taking, as prescribed by a certain somebody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The temp. is a little higher today so the conditions should be a bit more comfortable than they have been lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, more practice, and then these tests and then I move on to actually driving one of these monsters on the open road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Millington TN metropolitan area, watch out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-1917636707472464156?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/1917636707472464156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=1917636707472464156' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/1917636707472464156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/1917636707472464156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2007/12/big-three.html' title='The Big Three'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-9164488339776920748</id><published>2007-12-07T13:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-07T13:27:58.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Halfway Point</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Fact: an average eighteen wheeler, trailer and all, is about 70 ft long&lt;br /&gt;Fact: your standard four door sedan is about 12-15 ft long&lt;br /&gt;Fact: an average eighteen wheeler is roughly 4-5 car lengths long&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fact: backing an eighteen wheeler in a straight line is perhaps the most frustratingly difficult thing I've ever had to do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've spent two days straight now learning how to back these monsters up in a straight line, and it's taken me two days to finally get it right. That's a good thing because we move on to something called parallel backing and offset backing tonight. Your goal is to basically manuever the truck (in reverse) into a small box bordered by painted yellow lines and barrels marking the corners. The instructors said to expect many barrels to be ran over, so I'm assuming that the next time I post, I'll have some number of barrels that I demolished to report.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are continuing to go well, and the class size continues to wither. I'm hanging in there though, with high spirits. However, spending hours out on an airstrip in the cold practicing backing eighteen wheelers in the cold has taken a toll on my health a bit. I've got bronchitis &lt;em&gt;again&lt;/em&gt;. This is like, the second time in three months. That's a new record for me. My mom is getting a prescription for antibiotics sent up here so hopefully in the next few days I'll get that taken care of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I've been here for... ten days. It feels like so much longer. So I guess this is the halfway point. In four days, supposing I pass all these skills tests, I go out on the road every night for a week with an instructor to prove I'm competent and then that's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in another 10 days, I'll have leapt over the most difficult of hurdles in my journey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-9164488339776920748?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/9164488339776920748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=9164488339776920748' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/9164488339776920748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/9164488339776920748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2007/12/halfway-point.html' title='The Halfway Point'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-8644939457996768205</id><published>2007-12-05T10:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T10:26:53.883-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Brief Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Ah, the brief update. If there is one thing I'm great at, it's leaving everyone hanging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things go well. The days here are long and stressful, but I've made it through the hardest part. Don't let anyone tell you that getting a CDL is easy because it isn't. At least through Swift. I wake up at 4:30 AM every morning and then go to class for 13 hours. Then after that I study for 3-4 beyond that and pass out to do it all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Challenging, but I'm doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have my CDL-permit now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is going to be my first day in the belly of one of these machines. I get behind the wheel this evening to practice straight-line backing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you believe it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm using somebody's laptop so I can't really go into much details, but I am doing great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never in my life have I been so sure about a decision. I am strong and I am focused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to attaining goals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll update again as soon as I can.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-8644939457996768205?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/8644939457996768205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=8644939457996768205' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/8644939457996768205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/8644939457996768205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2007/12/brief-update.html' title='The Brief Update'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-239923264532029485</id><published>2007-11-27T01:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T01:26:56.971-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bad News</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;...and for the bad news. Or the interesting news, depending on how you view it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made a grave mistake when I was paying some bills before I leave. and I miscalculated the amount I actually have, leaving myself with $18 for food over a three-week span.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure how I'm going to stretch that, or what I'm going to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone is in a giving mood and can possibly spare $20 for me to have food while I'm in Memphis, please call me at 256.658.1217. I can give you my bank account number and information so you could deposit the money directly into my account. I'd be willing to pay back twice the amount.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The good news though, is that I'm pretty caught up on bills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-239923264532029485?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/239923264532029485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=239923264532029485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/239923264532029485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/239923264532029485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2007/11/bad-news.html' title='The Bad News'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-5912832669863883505</id><published>2007-11-27T00:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T01:01:06.897-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Present</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It's 3:01AM and I need to be at the bus station by 8:30AM. Sandbagging so as to delay the inevitable? Maybe. The past few nights I've been scared out of my mind. I've been so nervous and frightened that I've been having nightmares. Vivid ones too, where it takes a few minutes for the fog to lift once I wake, and I realize that I was only dreaming. Intense. Though I've been pretty terrified, I'm ready now. My nerves are complaining a bit, but I'm absolutely ready to do this and make it work. Today was incredible stressful. I'm in a position where I'll be making a lot of money soon, but I have to invest a little money until then, to float through. I had to pawn my car title today because my father didn't have the money he promised me he would when I told him weeks ago that I would need it. I really should learn that I can't rely on him, or anyone else in my family for that matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was just an incredibly stressful day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on top of it all, my car tire blew while I was driving. I was stranded in the rain, in the cold, with no jack, and no help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a long day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still need to pack. I'm hoping that won't be too distressing of a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should probably do that now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to the road less traveled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off to chase adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-5912832669863883505?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/5912832669863883505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=5912832669863883505' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/5912832669863883505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/5912832669863883505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2007/11/present.html' title='The Present'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-4904481801139638425</id><published>2007-11-26T00:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T00:45:52.762-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Details</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Oh, the details.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been researching the trucking industry and trucking companies (called carriers, within the ranks of truckers and those like them) heavily in the past month and a half or so. In order to drive a tractor trailer you first have to get your CDL (commercial driver's license). There are a few different ways to go about doing this, but the one that is the most feasible (and also the quickest) is to find a company that will pay for you to receive training, and then hire you once you are learned in the ways of driving a truck. There are a ridiculous amount of trucking companies out there to choose from, but only a handful actually hire 21 yr olds with no experience or CDL, and then provide them with the training to get it. I spent my last three weeks in Auburn waking up early to call and express interest in companies and leaving work early in the evening to talk with the recruiters (all trucking companies have people called recruiters who try to find potential candidates for employees). I thought of every possible important question to ask them, and wrote them down ahead of time so as to make the calling most efficient. When I called each company I asked this set list of questions and wrote down all their responses and then compared all the companies side by side. Once I filled out applications, I had a job offer within a week. A week after that I decided on the company that I most wanted to work for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The company's name is Swift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I leave on a bus tomorrow to Swift's south-eastern training facility in Memphis. They are paying for my bus fare, as well as my stay in a hotel during the training, and food while I'm up there. The training period will last from November 28th to December 19th or 20th. During this time I won't be receiving any pay. In this time period I'll be spending a week and a half or so in a classroom learning from videos, books, and an instructor; and then I'll take my CDL-permit test. Once I receive the permit, I'll go out on the road for a week and a half or so with a driver-trainer  and learn the basics of operating a semi-truck. After that, I take a road test and receive my CDL. Once those three weeks are up, I catch a ride via bus or a truck heading towards Huntsville for a break for Christmas and New Years. By January 2nd, I'll be back on the road again. I'll be partnering up with a driver-trainer for 4-6 weeks, until the middle of February or so. By that time, I'll have learned enough about the truck and drove a good 15,000 miles and I will be given the keys to my own truck to drive solo. There are a few different types of drivers, such as an Owner-Operator, Short-Haul, etc-- but I'll be a company driver. Which means I'm not leasing or buying my own truck. Instead, I'll be driving a company-owned truck. However, during my duration with Swift nobody but me will drive this particular truck. What that means is that I take it home with me. I'll also be driving as an Over The Road driver, which is basically the most intense of the truck-drivers. What that means is that I'm in it for the long-haul, and I mean that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;very&lt;/span&gt; literally. I'll spend 2-3 weeks out on the road at a time, with 3-4 days off after those stretches. I'll drive to one place, pick up a load, then drive to another place in another part of the country and drop it off, and then drive to another part of the country to pick up another load, to later drop it off. The most I can drive during a 24-hour period is 12 hours. During that 12 hours, I'm required to get some amount of sleep, the number of which escapes me at the moment. An average driver drives 3,000 miles a week. I hope to drive 4,000+. When I do sleep, I'll sleep in the back of the truck, which has a full-sized bed in it, as well as connections for fridges, microwaves, televisions, etc. I get paid by the mile, so the more I'm on the road, the more money I make. I'll have full dental, medical, and vision insurance for something like $60.00 a month, which is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;great&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the details, thus far. Aside from what I left out, everything else is totally unknown to me. So needless to say, this is going to be a huge experience. Tomorrow/today I need to get some errands done and pack in time to be at the bus station downtown at 8:30 AM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I'll have internet access during training. If I don't I'm bringing along a notebook to make sure I document all of my thoughts and observations about the whole thing. I'm also bringing my camera as well, so expect pictures soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned. It's about to get interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-4904481801139638425?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/4904481801139638425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=4904481801139638425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/4904481801139638425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/4904481801139638425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2007/11/details.html' title='The Details'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-4133523848183163309</id><published>2007-11-25T22:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-25T22:38:37.810-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick Note</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I'll be updating this site as often as I can, with details and stories about what I'm doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A longer update is coming soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-4133523848183163309?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/4133523848183163309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=4133523848183163309' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/4133523848183163309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/4133523848183163309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2007/11/quick-note.html' title='Quick Note'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4976205400878368289.post-8746253881988042752</id><published>2007-11-25T02:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-25T02:38:00.220-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Announcement</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;4:22 AM 11/25/2007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;My name is Justin Oleson and I leave Tuesday morning on a Greyhound bus for Memphis, Tennessee where I will begin training to become a truck driver.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I've been sitting in this chair for thirty minutes staring at the screen trying to decide how I'm going to explain this. Explain how I'm going to break the news. Well the cats out of the bag now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Not many people know why I'm doing this. Not many people know at all that I'm even going to do it. I haven't told people for any number of reasons, but mainly because I'm fairly certain that, in the past, I have been thought of as someone who would say things but would never followthrough. Or as somebody who didn't commit. Who didn't stick with it. And maybe in the past that was true. But no more. I decided that I was going to do this over a month ago. Because of those reasons, I've told very few people. I guess this is my formal announcement. I wanted to make sure that I was well upon my way before I let people know what I was doing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;More than that though, I'm afraid that people won't understand. I can't be sure of many things, but one thing I am certain about is that not everyone will understand why. Some people who read this will understand. Some people who read this, will judge. Some people will laugh. Some people will nod in agreement.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What it comes down to, is this: When I am old, and when I am dying; I refuse to look back on my life thinking, "It could have been so much more interesting, so much more fufilling."  HAPPINESS IS NOT A MEASURE OF ONE'S LIFE VERSUS SOMEONE ELSE'S. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Anyone who knows me, knows that my life is one that I really didn't choose for myself. Bad things that I have had no control over have happened, and as a result, I haven't been afforded the same opportunities and comforts that other people have. As the metaphor goes though, it's not the hand but how you play it. My whole life I've done what I thought was the best I could, when in actuality, all I've been doing is re-acting to things. I haven't been moving past problems, I've just been sidestepping them. Adjusting. I've thought a lot about my goals and what I want to accomplish in my life. I have a lot I want to do. I've got a destination, and now I need a road.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Why drive a truck? Why become a truck driver? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Well, first off I guess an important piece of information is that I'm only going to do it for a year and a half at most, but at least a year. Why that amount of time? Because that's all the time I need to accomplish the things I've set aside to do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Adventure. Money. Stories. To be Unorthodox. To do something nobody else is doing. To totally immerse myself in something. To see the country. To travel. To gain financial independence. To grow. To see things many won't ever get the chance to see. To go places nobody else will go. To breathe different air. To cross state lines. To prove to myself that there is more out there than Huntsville, Alabama or Auburn, Alabama. To set aside money for the future. To follow in the footsteps of my father (if only for a little while). To invest. To get a new car. To pay for college. To prove people wrong. To come out stronger. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;But mainly &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;TO TAKE A STEP TOWARDS THE REST OF MY LIFE, AND TO FORGE MY OWN PATH&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Ultimately, when I'm done I'll have accomplished many things that most nobody, if anyone, my age will have. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I've delayed writing this for as long as possible, but the time is now. In fact, I'll be keeping a blog on the road which I'll update often, but that's another entry for another time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What you eventually must ask yourself, is how do you view life? What's the right way to look at things. What kind of lense are you looking at things through? To me, life is a story. Regardless of who you are and where you are from, you have a story to tell. I want to be able to look behind me and know that I have an incredible one to tell. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;This, is one of my stories.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4976205400878368289-8746253881988042752?l=unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/feeds/8746253881988042752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4976205400878368289&amp;postID=8746253881988042752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/8746253881988042752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4976205400878368289/posts/default/8746253881988042752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unorthodoxbear.blogspot.com/2007/11/announcement.html' title='The Announcement'/><author><name>Unorthodox Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01407790761655508379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
