Pilot truck plaza in Wytheville, Virginia, mostly empty in the late morning
“They paved paradise and put up a parking lot.”
The classic Joni Mitchell lyric has been attributed to many ‘doom of green space’ scenarios: I’m sure Ms. Mitchell was thinking of urban landscapes where beautiful trees and kid-friendly greenery have been bulldozed in favour of dreary asphalt. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t thinking of truck stops.
Fortunately for inner city park lovers, most truck stops don’t infringe on their trees and grass. They’re out in the boonies at major highways junctions, where noisy air brakes and massive trailers aren’t a problem. Out there in the open air, there’s big money to be made from filling giant fuel tanks and feeding and showering hungry, dirty truck drivers.
The Wytheville – Fort Chiswell corridor in southern Virginia is such a place. This is where Interstates 77 and 81 cross in the southern section of Virginia. The area is a de facto gateway to North Carolina, namely the nearby populous Piedmont Triad of Winston-Salem, Greensboro and High Point. Charlotte is a couple of hours south.
I use this stretch of highway as a convenience. It has a half dozen or so giant truck stops – they’re called ‘travel plazas’ – including three from the Pilot/Flying J company. That’s where my company wants me to fuel.
There are places where I’d much rather stop overnight, including a gorgeous bunch of roadside rest areas nearby. They’re nestled in the stunning mountainous terrain of the Virginias and in the rolling hills of northern North Carolina. Any one of them offers an abundance of nature, relative peace and quiet and often a nice walking area. But, there’s only room for 15-30 trucks in most rest areas and it’s damn near impossible to find a spot after 8pm.
The Wytheville – Fort Chiswell truck stops aren’t that bad, really. No matter which one you choose, you have a good view of the surrounding highlands. But you don’t focus much on it when you’re tired from a long day’s ride. You just want to eat a little, maybe shower, relax and sleep until you set off again in the early morning hours.
But, you have to deal with the usual truck stop annoyances: an endless array of trucks are either fueling, roaming around the lot looking for a parking spot they like the looks of, or backing into one of these spots. Most drivers are painstakingly careful; a few are either aggressive, irritable, inexperienced, careless or a combination of these failings.
My typical end of day at the truck stop
It’s a Sunday evening around 8pm. I left the yard in Beamsville, Ontario around 8:30am and drove for the better part of 10 hours, with a couple of short rest breaks. My first drop off is scheduled for 9am in the northern part of North Carolina and I can’t be late. There are still plenty of parking spots available but it’s April and the sun is setting quickly. I’m looking for two spots side-by-side, so I can easily back my trailer in without worrying about nicking a rig on either side. Once I back in, I straighten my truck and trailer so that it takes up only one spot and doesn’t sit over the lines on the pavement. I’m trying to be the good guy and save room for another truck.
Once parked, I ease my seat back and let out a deep sigh. I’m safe here and thankfully don’t have to focus any more today. I realize that I need to pee so I grab my toiletry case and get out of the truck slowly, lethargically. I’m careful as usual to keep solid hold of the grab rail while I’m climbing down, because the first few feet of walking are done with cramped, rubbery legs that haven’t stood in a few hours. I wander unsteadily across the lot in the direction of the store. My legs remember their purpose and begin to cooperate.
In the store, I scan high for the restroom sign. There’s no time to waste because once you start walking, you become aware that the need to pee is stronger when you’re upright. Second job: I brush my teeth, because I already ate my small sushi dinner at my last stop two hours ago. (I carry most of my week’s food with me; it’s healthier and cheaper that way.) I don’t have to shower tonight because I had one in the morning and I’m good until tomorrow night, when I’ll have some factory dust on me.
I walk by the lounge to see what’s on TV. Usually it’s sports and there are a half dozen or so middle-aged dudes slumped in big overused armchairs, alternately looking at the screen and at their phones. I scan to see who’s there and it’s a typical collection of over-sized and under-groomed men who seem perfectly content to sit, despite the fact that’s what they do nearly all day, every day. [You sense my contempt for their sedentary lifestyle.]
Did you know that you can walk inside a truck?
Unless there’s a big game on the telly, I typically leave as fast as I came in. I return to the truck in need of more movement. Some nights I pull out the kettle bells and stretchy band that I carry with me, place my small speaker and phone on the hood of the truck, turn up the music to drown out motor noise and launch into a full workout. But I ran and stretched at home yesterday so tonight I’m just looking to move my legs. I’ve found my truck is a good place for it. There’s more than enough space inside to stand up and walk on the spot.
I turn the Sirius satellite radio to a program I like and set the temperature controls to my preferred level. I wish I could leave the window open a crack but the driver next to me has his truck running and it’s noisy. So is mine so I can’t complain. That’s the burden of a truck stop: far too many noisy trucks crammed together. I set my phone’s stopwatch and walk at a good pace for at least 10 minutes. That’s my goal no matter how tried I am. The bunk behind me is calling the whole time: ‘Erich, take it easy. Tomorrow’s another long day.’ I slept only 6 hours last night because it was Saturday and I felt like having fun, so fatigue is expected.
Soon, I’m down to my underwear and pulling the unzipped sleeping bag on top of me. The radio is set to a comfortable volume and just before I feel myself dozing off, I reach over and flick the switch that mutes the back speakers. Then, before I have a chance to overthink tomorrow’s drop-offs, I’m out.
In this business, it pays to be a heavy sleeper
Truck stops can drive you nuts with all the loud engines and headlights. The trucks continue to come and go at all hours of the night, as each driver has a different schedule. Most of them are courteous enough to keep the night noise to a minimum; some are assholes and don’t care. I’m courteous too, unless you count a need to pee at 3am. Then all I care about is creating a makeshift bathroom. Some drivers carry around a ‘piss bottle’ but the thought disgusts me.
I don’t know what it is about sleeping in the truck that works for me. Maybe it’s the fact that you can set absolutely everything the way you like it best: the cab and bunk temperature, the radio station and volume, the amount of lighting or darkness. But you can’t control outside noises and the rumble your truck engine makes when you leave your engine running. In the extreme cold and heat, you may have no choice. Even these variables don’t seem to faze me. The bed is big enough and has decent firmness, and my body responds by conking out completely.
When I wake up, it’s usually right after a dream. I consider the dream and what it might mean. These dreams come on a lot stronger and more frequently when I’m on the road and soon I might seek out an explanation for that. Right now, I’m just happy that I usually wake up feeling rested and ready for work. By the time I get dressed and have completed my daily pre-trip inspection on the truck and trailer, I’m more than ready to leave the truck stop. I don’t hate it; it’s just a convenient place to stay awhile, nothing more and nothing less. I’d always still rather be at home in bed with my wife.
I’m sure I could learn to hate truck stops
I’ve only been driving long haul for 14 months. I may have many more months and years of truck stops in my future. That’s enough time to get sick of anything. I don’t want to think about that right now. I’d rather look forward to all the good dreams I’ll have in the bed that’s set up just the way I like it. In any case, I’ll be spending plenty of nights at gorgeous roadside rest areas. If only they had showers. And a masseuse … now I’m really dreaming.