By Emily Robinsonof Southwest Texas State University
News-Sentinel photo by Keith Hitchens
Road warrior
Truck driver Mike Richardson travels the NAFTA route.
For eight-year trucking veteran Mike Richardson, driving a big rig has more to do with deadlines, drive time and money than politics.
Life on the road is still life on the road, despite changes brought to the trucking industry by the North American Free Trade Agreement.
"I don't know anything about NAFTA," Richardson says. "I know it stands for North American Free Trade Agreement, and that's about it."
Richardson, a 30-year-old West Virginia native, has been driving for Celadon Trucking Inc. for about five years. Celadon has seen tremendous growth since NAFTA was passed by Congress six years ago. But Richardson's job description remains the same -- pick up a load and deliver it on time.
It is about 4 p.m. on Dec. 18 in Laredo, Texas, and Richardson is hungry. Before heading out across the United States toward Bradford, Ontario, he gets a late lunch with a fellow Celadon driver known only as Southern Thunder, his citizen's band radio handle. Thunder has just come off the road for a few days and is relishing his down time, and Richardson has a few moments of peace before the frenetic schedule of driving begins.
The sun is beginning to set in Laredo, a border town that seems ready to burst at the seams with wheeler activity. While most of America's workforce is making the drive home to eat dinner and watch television, Richardson is getting ready to leave.
The final adjustments are made to the 53-foot trailer filled with car parts and pallets to be delivered for Chrysler, which accounts for 30 percent of Celadon's shipments. Richardson is glad his load is relatively light -- a paltry 14,000 pounds. A heavy load would be closer to 50,000 pounds, he says.
Truck weight is a big issue. Weigh stations dot the major interstates, and there is no escaping them if they are open. Known as "chicken coops" to truckers, they can be a source of aggravation and fines if drivers do not follow regulations.
"I like to do most of my driving at nighttime, because most of the stations are closed," he said. Meticulous about every detail while doing a pre-trip inspection, Richardson explains that if just one yellow light is out along the trailer he could be pulled over and given a "fix-it ticket," which would then give him 24 hours to service the problem. Getting pulled over would cost him time and money, hitting him squarely in the pocketbook. Most often there is no additional fine, but the trucker must pay to repair whatever needs fixing.
With increased truck traffic on the roads in recent years, crackdowns on regulations for trailer lengths, load weights and drive times are major issues for state and federal agencies. Solo drivers are expected to drive only 10 hours at a time and rest eight.
Six hours into the drive, and only halfway through Texas, the night time pattern of oncoming headlights going southbound becomes a tedious vision. Bob Seeger's voice croons "here I am, on the road again" as the song "Turn the Page" plays over classic rock station.
"It takes a certain type of person to drive a big truck," Richardson says. "It sure isn't glamorous, but the pay is pretty good."
Richardson is paid 37 cents a mile, and he says seeing the blue mile markers along the highway keeps him going. That's not the top rate for a truck driver, but it adds up quickly when he spends nearly 340 days of the year on the road.
Richardson has been in his current truck for more than two years, hand there is no mistaking it is his. A die-hard Dale Earnhardt fan, down to the 21/2-inch tattoo of Earnhardt's No. 3 on his arm, his cabin is a shrine to the veteran NASCAR driver. From the checkered flag taped to the windshield, to the NASCAR-themed alarm clock, phone, stickers and bed sheets, the truck's cabin is Richardson's NASCAR sanctuary.
When life, work, rest and just about everything else take place in the small cabin of a truck, comfort hand a smooth ride are important. Team drivers on bad roads have a particularly hard time of it. Team drivers are expected to drive non-stop, one driver sleeping in the cabin while the other drives. However, on a bumpy road, sleeping is often difficult, if not impossible.
The lines on the road stretch out in front of Richardson, and a look of fatigue settles in his eyes. He is almost to his stopping point for the night.
Flying J's truckstop in Texarkana is alight with little yellow lights, and row after row of slumbering trucks are parked for the night. Flying J's truck stops are just one of the many chain travel centers that are capitalizing on truck traffic growth. The grits, gravy and girlie magazines of the old truck stops are long gone. Now a trucker can buy some jewelry for his wife, pick up books on tape, rent a movie, hook up cable to his TV in his truck, and find just about any other creature comfort one could think of. Before heading back out to the truck to catch precious winks for the night, he makes a phone call to a friend in Texas. Urgent calls to check in with home base are becoming obsolete. Although phones in truck stops are still used for company communications, most truckers rely on a mini computer satellite network to keep in touch with their dispatchers. Richardson keeps tabs on his deadlines, and the company keeps tabs on him, by the use of this system.
"Communication is absolutely essential," he says, "but the less news hear from home, the better." Few her updates mean fewer changes in schedule, and for Richardson, this means everything is running smoothly and on time.
That also means he can get to his next load faster, which calculates into more dollars for him. Although trucking is often a lonely lifestyle, most drivers have some sort of social life. Richardson is no exception.
It is almost 11 p.m. after a nearly 12-hour drive from Texarkana. Richardson is getting excited. He is almost to Indianapolis, where Celadon's corporate headquarters is located.
More important, there is a Quality Inn with a karaoke bar. Spending time with other drivers and having a few beers in this trucker hangout his his way of unwinding. He opts to spend the night at the motel, which his a rare occasion, and he takes a hot shower and watches cable TV when he gets back from the bar.
"Sleeping in a truck is cozy, but you can't beat a real room, and TV," he says. "Plus, I didn't want to freeze to death out there in the truck!" Temperatures are dropping in Indianapolis, and although the truck is heated, sleeping in it for the night can get chilly during winter time.
On the road again after a corporate check-in, a hotel slumber and some socializing, Richardson is going to be early for his delivery in Ontario at this pace.
It is dark again, blustery cold, and Richardson pulls his truck into the Detroit terminal to check in with Jo-Ann, the dispatcher working the nightshift. She punches in his truck number and finds that the paperwork needed for crossing the Canadian border has not yet arrived from Mexico. Richardson's load will not cross the border on time, but it his not his fault.
"It is pretty normal for stuff like that to happen," the dispatcher says. Richardson is only happy he doesn't have to cross the border after all. Drivers do not like crossing the Canadian border if they can help it because of the strict customs officers.
"Drivers will avoid going to Canada as much as they can," the dishpatcher says. "Every day I get tons of excuses why they can't make it across, but I still make them go."
Trucks risk being stopped and delayed for days if a Canadian inspector finds something suspicious about their loads. Most companies compensate their drivers for the delay, but some don't.
Richardson's journey for this load his done. He will drop his trailer and leave it for someone else to take as soon as the paperwork is in order. His weeklong Christmas break is due to start in less than 24 hours, but he asks if there is a load he can take with him on his way to east Texas.
"Might as well take something with me, if I'm headed that way," he says.
"Besides, more money for me, right?" Richardson smiles. North American Free Trade Agreement or not, trucking is all about the bottom line.
Emily Robinson rode along with trucker Mike Richardson as he traveled from the Mexican border to the Canadian border in December.
