My inspiration for doing this journal and writing this book is basically an outlet to have a say. Never have been one to get up in front of a group of people and speak. I always had this excellent memory and writing was a way for me to get it out and so, I decided to do just that. So many times down through the years I was told by friends and even some professional people, I should write a book. My attempt to live in a normal family, from the time I was very young, it was never destined to happen. That’s just the way it was, a higher power was and is the ruler over that. The thing that most people take for granted, family, has always been a missing link in my life. As a result, I have to talk mostly about experiences; things; hobbies; friends etc. and that is why you will find the absence of family in the context of my story. I would have loved to have had family to be a part of my life. When I retired from the Teamster via the BOEING Co. in October 1995, I already had work to go to immediately and worked clear into 2002. My Mother passed away in August 1999 and she had lived a full life to 95 years of age. Even though I had 3 daughters living and doing their thing in different parts of the country, at that particular time, my relationship with 2 of them was minimal and non-existent with the 3rd. After having moved up to Camano Island in 2003 and planning to stay there permanently, well…….it turned out that wasn’t what I really wanted after I got there and only lived there for 10 months, sold that house, packed up all my stuff and hauled it to Texas. I had decided I would make an attempt to live near my oldest daughter. It would at least give me a chance to maybe have a bond with my flesh and blood once in awhile. It worked in the very short term till she changed jobs and moved to Dallas. Too little, too late, it was not in the cards. At this point my oldest daughter and I have a pleasant relationship even though we see each other maybe twice a year. Flying up to my home area in Washington state once or twice a year is one of the things I really look forward to. I have some real solid friends in Washington that will always be my best friends. I’m really a Lucky Guy! Mike Hicks

The Cool Apple Express

By Michael J. Hicks

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2011 Michael J. Hicks
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4678-7713-8

Contents

1. Introduction.........................................................12. This Is Where It Began...............................................93. Working My Way Into Trucking.........................................194. Up In Port Angeles...................................................435. 1972 All Over The Place Like A Fart In A Skillet.....................466. 1973 Lots Of Driving And A Few Odd Encounters........................537. 1974 Another Mixed Bag...............................................608. 1975 Wonder Bread....................................................699. C F Tanklines........................................................7410. Pulled The Pin At C F Tanklines.....................................8111. Making A Decision And 4 Years At Lone Star..........................8912. Post Lone Star......................................................9913. Two And A Half Years Of Starting Over...............................11614. Working At Boeing Trucking..........................................12415. Epilogue............................................................137

Chapter One

INTRODUCTION

"Don't compare your life to others, You have no idea what their journey is all about."

"A woman marries a man expecting he will change, but he doesn't.

A man marries a woman expecting that she won't change, but she does."

The Cool Apple Express Is not a real trucking company that I ever knew of but, It has been in my mind pushing 40 years at this point. Starting on 4th of July week-end 1971, I made my first sleeper trip of all time, running from Seattle to Chicago. Over the next 6 years, I would haul a lot of apples from areas in Eastern Washington to the Twin-Cities, and the greater Chicago area. It wasn't the only product I would haul but, it was a product I would haul a lot of, that was very popular. During that period of time, I came real close, about 3 times, to buying my own rig and running that route. I had the name; the design, and the colors for all of the equipment I would own, imbedded in my brain all these years. So, when I made the decision to write my book, I already knew what the name of it would be, and what the graphics would look like. In the short term, it may have been a good idea, but over the long term, and being able to look back in time, it was to my unconscious luck that I opted out. I know with just one rig, and not getting the itch to get bigger, or, bad luck, I most likely would have done real well. I was very disciplined with my work ethic and proper operation and care of the equipment I drove, but the constant grind over the years, and the responsibility to keep the wheels going 7 days a week, probably would have taken it's toll over time, and I would have either sold out or bailed.

There is a certain rush and feeling of independence when you are doing this particular kind of work, maybe a little different in real life, than what is portrayed in movies or stories. Even if you don't own the rig you are driving, once you pull out the gate and the wheels are on the highway, you're pretty much the boss, there is no one looking over your shoulder. You are expected to think on your feet, and make quick decisions with no one to hold your hand. Lots of weather related conditions dictate what you have to do, and there is always going to be equipment problems to deal with. Over the years I have had a few friends that were killed on the road, all experienced drivers. I've had some close calls myself but, considering all the things that could have happened, I feel fortunate and I thank the Good Lord for that. Going into the ditch up on Bozeman Hill one time in extremely slick conditions will be a memory I'll have the rest of my life. Coming off Stevens Pass west bound with a pneumatic tanker and loosing my air, same story, I shudder just thinking about it. One time at nite, crossing the desert between L A and Phoenix, I dozed at the wheel momentarily, when I opened my eyes and regained my senses, I got a Volvo pedaling as fast as he can right in front of me going down Banning Hill. One more second and it could have been disaster. That one instance always reminds me of that old 1940 movie, a trucking classic called "They Drive by night".

You drive long enough, you will experience many things like this, unless of course, you live a charmed life.

Everything I have edited in this book is absolutely true, and I have worded in my own unprofessional style. I would not be comfortable with a Ghost writer, it would not seem like the real thing. I am not un-educated, but I am anything but a real author and my story needs to be told in my own words.

I could have never have been as successful as I was to become the accomplished driver I am, if it were not for a few special people. Also, I want to thank some people for giving me certain opportunities along the way, opportunities that were valuable in reaching a plane of existence making life a lot easier.

First of all, I probably should mention my lifelong pal Roger "Rocky" Hannan, one of the first people I tied up with when I came back from Texas in June 1965. I would ride with him at work, and felt the desire to learn the trade. He was driving a brand new 1965 Autocar with a 5X4, 2O gears, and I had almost zero knowledge in the very beginning. So, just like Rock always said from that day on, "your'e startin directly from the top". I didn't learn overnite. Rock had been driving since he was 18, and he came from a family of truck drivers. He took a tanker over Snoqualmie Pass alone at the age of 18. He, his whole family, and all his close friends, were driver fanatics, and that is a good thing for the long haul. I was called a lot of names, and made to feel real bad a lot of times, till it was beaten into my head, and that was the real payoff, and like I said, it didn't happen overnite.

Another special person that was instrumental in finessing my driving ability was Rocky's, and my friend, Craig Stewart. I met Craig at the very same time I started riding with Rock, he and Craig were driving for the same guy. It would be 6 years up the road in 1971, when I made my first sleeper trip, and it was with Craig. Craig was an excellent driver, a perfectionist, and the trip I made to Chicago and back with him was a tremendous education for me too. Thank you Craig, thank you very much. I used those skills you taught me the rest of my driving career.

I learned driving skills from other people along the way, some are no longer alive. I had a driving partner for awhile named Ben Fabens. Ben was a very accomplished driver that had just about seen it all. I learned driving skills while driving with Ben, that, I probably would not pick up from the average person. He was real good at driving in adverse winter conditions, and that would pay off for me so many times I can't remember. One of the questions I asked him that would really payoff for me was, what to do if a front tire blows at freeway speed, fully loaded. Sure enough, the day would come when I needed that answer. I was running east bound on I-84, south side of the Columbia River past Biggs Junction. I was doing at least 60mph, a brand new Firestone front blew, I had the drill imbedded in my brain. I kept it straight, got it off the road. A "Willis Shaw" truck spotted me sitting on the side of the road with the tractor leaning to the left. They stopped, crossed over and drove me back to...