When I began my Truck driving career, I anticipated that it could take one of three possible courses:

1) Gain enough experience to get a well-paying truck driving job with a route and home time that worked for me. Also the flexibility to be located nearly any where in the country.
2) A career in a related field that I could qualify for, such as heavy truck insurance.
3) Once I had sufficient experience, to qualify for a job as a driver manager, logistics planner, or driver recruiter.

Everything has its opposite. In my case, the excitement of being on the road, headed for a destination three states away, has often been balanced by the feelings of deep longing for my family, and an uncomfortable fear that my career choice had impacted them more than I anticipated.  My feelings often went from thrill to regret, all within the same hour.  Consecutive days stuck sitting in a truck stop while the snow and slush piled up, and shivering in the cold truck didn't help.  The cold sapped my energy and it often drained my desire a truck driver, Shivering in a cold truck, wondering why you were doing this when I could be home in a warm home with a kitchen, furnace, and family, happened on more than one occasion.

The clash of all these thoughts, and deep feelings led me to the conclusion that I should be more diligent in keeping all of my "Plan B" options open.

While dropping Bruce off to the dealership in Salt Lake City, I drove past the terminal of one of our competitors and I didn't realize they had such a large terminal here, and it prompted a thought that I should go to their website and see if they have any career-track openings. This I did dealership in the waiting area and using the free wifi.  They had an opening, and I took some time to apply, not thinking that I would hear ever---or certainly at least for a long time.

The next day my phone rang with a number that I didn't recognize, and I nearly declined the call since I do get a few solicitation calls, but I answered it, and it turned out to be a recruiter for that company.  24 hours later, I was offered the job.

This was a nearly completely unanticipated and sudden change of events and plans for me.  However, the more I thought about the opportunity, the more it felt good to me.  I told them I would accept the job. This current load therefore turns out to be my last.

The load was for a load of food for grocery store distribution and to be picked up from downtown Cincinnati.  Getting to the location was incredibly stressful. I passed under three overpasses with signs of 13'9" -- a mere 3 inches of clearance from my trailer's stated height.  Had they recently added a three inch layer of asphalt on top of the roadway? I slowed down to a crawl and eased under the first bridge. Nothing happened. Whether there was indeed three inches of clearance between the top of my trailer and the bridge, or three eights of an inch, I don't know. I only know we successfully passed beneath all three bridges.

Finally, we were loaded with a heavy load, and I took off and promptly got lost in downtown Cincinnati after the interstate on ramp I intended to take was blocked by police for what was probably an accident.  I tried following signs to another on ramp, but only succeeded in being more lost and more certain that this was not going to end well.  Incredibly, at just the right moment, an on ramp appeared --- going the wrong direction --- but I didn't care. It got me onto an interstate highway, and out of these narrow, confusing, city streets.

As we headed west along I-70, it occured to me that for the foreseeable future---maybe forever, this could be the last time I ever drive a semi truck.  I can't imagine anyone else driving Bruce.  Not Bruce!  We've been through everything together---snowy roads, lost downtown, heavy loads, light loads, and countless nights at truck stops.  No one knows Bruce and his incredible dependability better than me.

As I write this, I'm stopped in Colby, Kansas at what could possibly be my last night on the road. The routing of this last load is interesting.  I recall my first load out of Denver headed to Missouri, parking at a small lot in eastern Colorado, and waking up the next morning to see another truck from our company parked next door.  I remember that driver and his encouragement and help, and then headed out into the dark early Kansas morning, feeling incredibly foolish as I pushed onward into the predawn darkness of the Kansas morning, every mile being one mile further from my home, my routines, and my family, and feeling like an incredible fool. I remember at this dark moment of despair, the unanticipated feeling of love and peace from God. No other source could have visited that truck cab in such a powerful way that cold autumn morning.

And now here I am, taking basically the same route, only in reverse, westbound through a Kansas afternoon, headed back to more time with family, and headed towards a new career sitting at a desk. How will this new career turn play out for this  star-crossed traveler? It feels good, and I'll give it my best because after all, life itself is the greatest journey of all, and perhaps, just like the song says: Some day, you'll know where you are.