DISPATCH #4

Driving Lyft, the other day with the A/C blasting reminded me of a summer when I wasn’t so lucky.

Years ago, I was hauling a load out of Oregon during one of the hottest summers on record. I fired up the truck, reached over, and turned on the air conditioner…

…and it immediately started blowing hot air.

Not warm.
Not “maybe it’ll cool down in a minute.”

Hot.

The worst part was that it didn’t die out in the middle of nowhere. It quit right near a shop in Oregon, so I pulled in hoping they could fix it before I started the run south.

The mechanic came out, took a quick look, and said they didn’t have the part.

He said it in that slow, uninterested way that suggested he’d already decided this wasn’t going to be his problem.

So, I asked him where the next shop was.

He thought about it for a second.

Then he shrugged and said,

“About seven hundred miles.”

Seven hundred miles.

During one of the hottest summers Oregon had ever seen.

So I climbed back into the truck and started the run south.

Within an hour the cab felt like the inside of a blast furnace. Both windows were down, but the air coming in felt like someone pointing a hair dryer at my face.

At one point I soaked a towel and wrapped it around my head like some kind of melting Jedi warrior.

The problem was it was so hot the towel wouldn’t stay wet long enough to help. Five minutes later it was bone dry and I was right back in the heat.

Being miserable and desperately hot does things to a man’s modesty.

By the time I crossed into California I was driving in nothing but my cowboy hat, my boots… and my underwear.

Eventually I pulled into a truck stop because I needed water. A lot of it.

I climbed down out of the truck and walked inside wearing my hat, boots, and underwear, trying to act like this was a perfectly normal way to enter a place of business.

The whole room went silent.

It was like a moment from a comedy movie. If someone had added a record scratch sound effect it would have fit perfectly.

A guy at the counter finally asked what was going on.

I told him,

“Well, my rig has been transformed into an Easy-Bake Oven…

…and I’m the idiot-flavored muffin that has to drive it.

And thank you for asking. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need some freakin’ water.”

The place erupted with laughter.

Someone shouted from the back,

“Get this man some water… and for God’s sake some pants!”

Truckers have a strange way of turning misery into a comedy show.

After what felt like the longest drive of my life, I finally rolled into a shop in Southern California to get the A/C fixed.

The mechanic looked it over, grabbed a part off the shelf, and fifteen minutes later the air conditioner was blowing ice cold.

Fifteen minutes.

So I asked him,

“Is that a common part to run out of?”

He shrugged and said,

“Not really. Shops usually keep those in stock. The place up north probably just didn’t feel like doing it.”

I just stood there staring at him.

“You mean to tell me I lost ten pounds and most of my sanity driving through three states in a rolling sauna… because somebody didn’t feel like doing their job?”

Truckin’ teaches you a lot of lessons.

This one was simple:

Always get a second opinion when A/C is on the line.

As for that first shop in Oregon… I was back through there the next month.

Let’s just say I kept an eye out for that mechanic.

Funny thing though.

I never did see him again.

Well… see you next time.

— Steve
The Wayward Trucker

Have you ever had a miserable trip that turned out funny?
Just hit reply and tell me about it.