Fremont, Indiana. They awoke in the chill dawn of autumn, the Trucker and his Passenger. Hours left until legal to start the engine. Because there was time, and an extra shower on the account, they did. Breakfast then, after which the Trucker attended to business while the Passenger, with key and duffle bag, traversed the lot back to the truck.
A few seagulls floated lazily just above the rows of waiting trucks. And a bit of breakfast oatmeal remained in the bunk. It's was few days past human edibility. So she, and they, had fun with that. No photos here, but a few from Lake Point Utah, where there was another seagull encounter....
Any more food up there??
A row of beaks poking inquisitively along the trailer's edge, lookouts in the event more food appears.
The leader of the pack, peering down into the mirror.
And the one on the side view mirror, who eyeballed the Trucker sternly when no more handouts were forthcoming and rode that mirror through the parking lot before soaring away in disgust.
Tidying the bunk, packing clothing and bedding, consolidating. Almost home. At last.
This week has not gone as planned. When has it? But our God has provided every step of the way, even those times when fresh grief and betrayal again dissolved into tears that brought no relief. He has not promised to ease our path, but hold our hands securely while we navigate it. As illustrated in a small way in The Lord of the Rings,
Frodo groaned; but with a great effort of will he staggered up; and then he fell upon his knees again. He raised his eyes... to the dark slopes of Mount Doom towering above him, and then pitifully he began to crawl forward on his hands.
Sam looked at him and wept in his heart, but no tears came to his dry and stinging eyes....
'Come, Mr. Frodo!' he cried. 'I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you and it as well. So up you get!.... Sam will give you a ride.
Sam looked at him and wept in his heart, but no tears came to his dry and stinging eyes....
'Come, Mr. Frodo!' he cried. 'I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you and it as well. So up you get!.... Sam will give you a ride.
The the Trucker reappeared, the truck was fueled, the countdown complete and the day's drive could begin,
I guess I can go now. Splash in a little fuel and head for home.
Jolting out onto Ohio roads, the clock ticking. An onion truck ahead; the season is a bit late for onions on a flat bed, as they dare not freeze. Though the photo did not capture the black smoke pouring from his stacks when he shifted gears, it was plentiful. The Trucker commented that his load would be well seasoned and "fume"igated upon delivery.
The Trucker de-bugged the windshield this morning, though the squeegee provided was less than adequate. And the wiper fluid tank appeared to be empty, or the correct switch could not be located, or possibly both! So there are onions on the far side of those smudges.
Thinking back to the previous day in Nebraska. Crisp and clear and dry. Fields of corn and soybeans, while mature, were parched and brown-gold in color. Massive combines, tractors, and trailers traversed vast acreages, brown clouds of dust twisting above them. Forecasted rain for the week was measured in tenths of inches, unlike the deluges experienced on the east coast recently.
And before that, arrival at long last in Lincoln, Nebraska. Early Monday morning. To the Kenworth facility where the Green-and-White waited, wearing a new transmission. In the early morning, the Passenger packed up the Penske, transferred bags to the Kenworth, and remade beds and stocked cupboards while the Trucker settled paperwork and drove the Penske down the road from whence it came.
Upon his return, the mandated pre-trip inspection. And the un-mandated photo.
During which an air leak was heard. Too serious for the road. Replacement air bag needed. Another delay. Shoulders slumped, the Trucker returned to the shop. Yes, they can do this today. Give them an hour, and it will be in the shop. So far, so good.
The Passenger has been working this year on a project. Names of Jehovah stitched on fabric. meditating the while on reminders of Who He is. The hours in the truckers' lounge produced, among others, Shalom (He is Peace), Jireh (He Will Provide), and most needed for the journey, Shom (He is There). This last name is also the root of the word guard, as nearly as the Passenger can understand. So needed today, physically, spiritually, and emotionally.
The Passenger is rather slow on the uptake at times. Especially in the driver's lounge, when it dawned on her that the book she packed to study this week parallels her stitchery project. How could she not have made that connection before?? God Himself planned that!
And now, the homeward stretch. Five hours and fifty-two minutes til a mandatory "break" which is more like a high pressure rush to accomplish all that is necessary before hitting the road again. Careful management will allow the Trucker to reach Philadelphia, deliver his load
of pears, and arrive home, before the clock insists upon a ten hour break.
The sun is shining, the Son is here.
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