…it’s here!


Originally uploaded by jayfherron

I have such a strong desire for the cab of a big truck-sitting parked at the truck stop looking out over I-40 into the desert near Kingman , Arizona. It is among many of the most beautiful views from a truck stop.
The one favorite of mine was east of Kingman and had a vast parking area-so it was easy to get off over to one corner and set up camp. Over size loads (like ours) had to clear the highways on weekends-so sometimes when there was sections of a piece of equipment that required more than one rig to haul,we’d park together and set up a covered camp using tarps spread between trucks. There would be cook out grills and cold beer…though in the desert it did not stay cold long.
The parking lot was larger than the truck stop really required so it was more like parking out in an open field (except there are no fields in that part of Az.) and privacy was pretty well assured.

I liked parking out on the edge. Not much wanting to get involved with any body,most times it worked.
It was quiet and soothing after a long hard days drive,not just a drive-but work.
Coming from the west saw some of the nothingest nowhere of desert you ever saw-the best of it,but still work-climbing the hills in low gear,and hot.
It was rough with heavy haul,because you had to move in the daylight-and park at night,where as many trucks sought a cool place (we used to get a motel room when light loaded and sit around in the A/C during the day-and move at night,just to stay cool) to sit until the sun went down…we had to keep on getting the desert behind us.
Never the less,I liked that solitude.

At this point it would’nt matter where the cab of the truck is-and what truck stop. The actual fact is-the cabin interior is the home. It is private-and despite the rumble of the idleing trucks that park around you,it is a noise you no longer pay too much attention to.
And to me right now-I would be happy to be in one.

It is kind of curious to me. I have sat in truck stops in places where the trucks are lined up row after row and front to back-sometimes facing each other,sometimes not. A strange community-no one other than a trucker knows that it is a separete community then most others.
Curious? Because of how it is so familier to a prison-in some ways more restricting because no matter where you go you have this truck to drag around. Everything your day consists of is in and around the truck-in the truck,you are stuck!

Despite the camps we would set up on a heavy haul-it was right there next to rare that companionships with other truckers would begin. Yes,we had moments of conversation standing around waiting to load but the time allowed to form bonds and lasting friendships was just not there.
And curious because we would park in a truck stop and sit in the drivers seat and stare at each other.
A transient lifestyle that is made of good people who never get a chance to sit still.
Being honest-the cab of a truck is one of the most perfect places to meditate and think everything out.
I believe that is why I need one-to be parked out in that desert off I-40 watching the setting sun turn everything an umber and oranges beyond belief.
I just need to get off somewhere and think!

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