The last few years before retiring I hired on to push a semi through the lower forty-eight states and Canada. Much is written about the romantic life of the road, the last of the cowboys, some folks claim. I suspect much of those statements were published by folks who never turned a wheel on a big rig. However, there were moments that stood out.
After a week off the road Barb and I picked up a west coast load bound for New York City. The long lonesome miles of the 11 western states were often enjoyable, but even those had their moments.
That Friday evening, the folks in Rock Springs, Wyoming sounded weary and irritable after a week on their treadmills, as it were. The CB channel 17 bickering reflected their attitudes.
Then: “All truck drivers are scum dirt!” someone shouted.
“WHO SAID THAT?” someone else shouted.
The language quickly degraded as others promised to run someone over. We smiled at each other, wondering which voice had started the fracas. About 15 miles east of Rock Springs the last fragments of heated remarks were unreadable. I turned the radio gain down and we turned our attention to a Zane Grey audio book and we pressed on.