Tag: BellsRides

BLACK ICE AND BIG RIG’S DON’T MIX

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Sneak Peak: Human Cargo A John Hunt Novel

Here is a sneak peak of chapter one of the Fictional Novel I’m writing “Human Cargo” the first of The John Hunt Series.

1984

In 1984 John Hunt was sixteen years old, nearly seventeen, the only child of a single mother. His mother worked well beneath her 137 iq as a computer programmer in the basement of Macy’s. Computer programming on a main frame in 1984 was done with punch cards. John’s mom, “Anita Hunt” thought this aspect of her job was absolutely mind numbing as hell, but knew computers were the future.

John and his mother lived on the fringes of Land Park and Oak Park in Sacramento, CA. It’s kind of the grey area of two extremes. Land Park the opulent neighborhood with homes in the millions, lush green yards manicured every week by a hired landscaper. Oak Park is beyond impoverished, bare dirt for front yards, dogs tied to a scraggly tree, over ran with gang bangers.

When John was twelve years old the middle school he went to was in the dead center of Oak Park. After school one of the boys in his class was with a group of older boys. The boy said “Hey Wonderbread, what’s a cracker like you doin in our school?” John stood there for a second, he did the numbers, eight to one. He’s never been in a fight with one boy, little alone eight boys, Some of the boys looked old enough to drive. He took a right turn and headed for home. They fell in behind John, “Cracker, ain’t you gonna answer me, what’s a honky like you doin in our school?” John picked up the pace he heard the others “yeah honky!” One of the bigger boys shoved John’s classmate and said  “kick that mother fucker crackers ass.” John glanced over his shoulder to see his classmate charging him. They tumbled head over hills onto the ground, John was being punched in the ribs as they rolled around. John punching back harder and lower straight into the kidney. John was getting the upper hand, his classmate was starting to lose with every kidney punch. The other boys surrounded the two boys on the ground like a pack of wolves. The other boys saw John was winning and started kicking him in the back, in the head, in the ribs. The other boy rolled out the way trying not to get kicked. They kept kicking and stomping everywhere. John rolled up into a ball trying to protect his head, his hands, his fingers breaking with one last kick to the head. The boys took off running, scattering like cockroaches with the sight of a Sacramento PD Cruiser a couple blocks away. When the Sacramento Police Officer notified Anita of what happened, informing her John was being held at UC Davis medical center for observation he explained the extent of Johns injuries. The love everyone hippie, lost her bananas. The momma bear came out and the hippie crap went out the window.

The only positive male role model John had was his Uncle Clarence. Uncle Clarence was complete polar opposite of his sister. He was a Marine Special Forces, SRT operator. When Anita called her brother she was just this side of hysterical. She said “I want you to train John not to just protect himself but to kill with his bare hands” “He is all I have and those gang banging, ghetto drelling, mother fuckers almost beat him to death.” Clarence stifled a chuckle, he never heard his sister talk this way. She has always been a “Peace and Love” kind of person. He liked the “momma bear” of his sister and agreed to train John to protect himself and to bulk John up from his skinny, almost frail frame.

By 1984 John had been training with his Uncle Clarence and working at the same mechanic shop for almost four years. He has always liked wrenching on cars but wanted more out of life. This same year he had completed the first year of general education at the city college. When he was thirteen years old his mom came home from work to find him in the garage with the engine of her car half way removed. She calmly asked

“John what are you doing to my car?’ “I just wanted to see if I could pull the engine by myself.” She said “Okay, just put it back together when you are done.” “Thanks mom” with greasy smile.

1984 is also the year John’s mom broke the news to him she was really sick. Leading up to his mother’s death, when John wasn’t at the shop working, he was doing his homework at his mother’s bedside. Sometimes he would just sit with her talking as if he wanted to know and remember every detail of her life. He asked questions of her childhood and her parents. She wondered why he had never asked about his father. Sometimes, she would help him his studies or they simply watched tv together.

This is also the year “The Order” reared their ugly head. The Order was a white supremacist terrorist group, founded by a man named Robert Mathews. Mathews a baptized Mormon formed the terrorist group of mostly Mormon survivalist. To fund the terrorist group among other things, they robbed banks. Their big payout was when they robbed a armored car in Ukiah, California that netted 3.6 million dollars. This was the biggest news story in the history of Ukiah, the small town not too far north/west of Sacramento. John and his mother followed their crime spree in the news and  then would have long discussions of their perceived ideals.

This same year is when John decided to go into law enforcement. When he related his plans to his mom at her bedside, contrary to what John had thought her reaction was going to be, his mom was very supportive. She did however, make him promise to complete his education and to get his degree. She said “Son when you become a police officer, I don’t want you to stop learning, I want you to take every opportunity they offer to train you to be the best damn cop you can be.”

December 1984 Mathews was held up in a house on Whidbey Island, during a shootout with authorities Mathews was killed and the house was engulfed in flames. Mathews becoming a martyr in the eyes of fellow white nationalist. This same month and year John’s mother succumbed to her illness.  

Thirty four years later John Hunt retired from his chosen career as a Captain of the El Dorado County Sheriff’s Office. During the the thirty years with EDSO he took every opportunity he could to better himself as his mother had wished for him. By doing so he followed in Uncle Clarence’s footsteps and was part of the Elite S.W.A.T team for most of his career. Training with the best to be the best.

I hope you enjoyed the sneak preview.

Enjoy the Ride

BellsRides

How to stay clean and fresh on the road…

Many of my friends who have traditional careers have asked me ” What do you do about showers and staying clean while driving a big rig?”

The simple answer is I shower at truck stops, a.k.a Trucker Spa’s.

However, not all truck stops are treated equally. Sometimes the truck stops don’t quite measure up to my “Trucker Spa” standard. When this is the case I rather freshen up in my truck. There are a lot of products on the market to help with this task. I have naturally curly hair but sometimes I blow it out straight. When I do I use a dry shampoo to freshen my hair https://amzn.to/2CojZmA

When I’m rocking the curl, I use a spray bottle with water to get my hair completely wet then apply a small amount of light weight leave in conditioner, scrunch it up let it air dry and it’s a curly mess. To wash my face I first use Neutrogena facial wipes https://amzn.to/2BtntT8. I then use Huggies baby wipes https://amzn.to/2Cn4A5J. I’m using these specific brands as over the years I have found these are the best quality. The facial wipe by Neutrogena removes the most stubborn makeup without leaving your face a grease slick. The Huggies baby wipes cleans your body without leaving little lint balls all over you.

I have also been asked by my friends, what do you do about a toilet? Do you pee on the side of the road? NO!!! I’m not hanging it all out there on the side of the road. I’m fortunate enough to be a solo driver (a requirement for me, no slip seat, no team driving)

One of the first things I do when I get a truck, I remove the passenger seat. This is where I keep a Porta Potty. I use the same potty chemicals https://amzn.to/2R5zmsg. as we do in our RV to eliminate any odors. Most male counterparts us a bottle of some kind, which is perfectly fine if they dispose of them properly but unfortunately a lot of truckers don’t.

For female truckers who aren’t as fortunate as I am to either be solo or to be able to remove the passenger to make room for a Porta Potty, they will use products like the Travel Jane https://amzn.to/2EEwGf8. It’s a disposable female urinal.

This topic was recently brought up on one of my favorite channels I watch on YouTube “Story Moto ADV”

https://youtu.be/Ow-ittVt1gY

Story Moto shared 5 excellent hacks to use while motorcycle camping. I shared Travel Jane for his female motorcycle/adventure subscribers.

This method of staying clean and fresh between showers can be used while traveling by any means, motorcycle, big rig or RV.

Enjoy the Ride

BellsRides

Why Monday’s Suck….

I love my job, the company I work for is a great company. They provide me with excellent equipment to do my job.

I have a new truck which is assigned solely to me ( a requirement for me, this girl doesn’t slip seat or team). The wages are generous along with excellent benefits.

I’m not special or anything all the company drivers make the same per mile, it just so happens I have the second longest route. I used to have the longest route but with seniority I was able to lock in my current route to Calgary. The Calgary run has the perfect amount of miles and delivery stops. It allows me to earn a nice paycheck and at the same time the ability to complete it in four and half to five days. Not to mention I get paid to drive through some of the prettiest country side.

With all this being said, “the job” or “the company” is not Why Monday’s Suck.

Monday’s I leave my boys and my home, This is Why Monday’s Suck.

If you have been watching my Vlogs on YouTube or Reading my Blogs, you will notice I’m a pretty happy person. Some would say I’m bubbly and outgoing. Feisty with a little smart ass but mostly all in fun. It isn’t a front, it’s; what you see is what you get.

BUT…

Monday’s are a different story, I am somewhat withdrawn and a little blue.

You see, I really like my husband, obviously I love him but I really like him too. I love talking to him about anything and everything but we are perfectly comfortable with just hanging in silence, simply being near each other.

Having fun and laughter is a big part of our days, I provide a lot of material for him to turn into some joke or teasing me as I’m somewhat of a dork. One of the things I like about him is his quick wit and at times dry sense of humor.

The other boy in my life is my son. Although, there are times I feel like strangling him (because after all he is a teenager and believes he is the smartest human on the planet) he is the single best thing I have ever done in my entire life.

One of the things about this job, being gone during the week, I appreciate going to all the games and tournaments every weekend when other parents are burned out. Most of the time I feel like I’m missing him growing up into a man. To combat these feelings I am fortunate to have a husband who communicates often and well with what is going on in the day to day.

Never the less on Monday I get in a funk. Then miraculously I pull my big girl panties up, shake it off and do my job. My determination of staying on task, getting to my destination and getting home as quickly as possible is how I survive. Of course along with hearing my husbands voice on the other end of the cellphone helps as well. As soon as my phone rings and my husbands name and face pops up on the screen I instantly have a smile on my face.

I thank God for my family and for this opportunity to help provide for our family unit.

Thank you Andy and AJ for giving me the support and love I need in order to do this job. Without it I would not survive….

The End

Enjoy the Ride

BellsRides

What Rev’s Your Engine?

My engine is rev’d with a large cup of coffee, watching the sun rise, the air crisp with a promise of a warm sunny day. Gearing up in layers to Ride a couple hundred miles on a back country road. At times singing at the top of my lungs to my favorite tunes. Sometimes enjoying the sounds inside my helmet and always enjoying the conversation with my husband via Scala.

ONE MUST ASK….

Is it the vibration of the engine a few inches below your ass? Is it the push/pull of the handlebars? Is it the sweet spot of the lean on a twisty road? Is it the sound of your pipes when you blip the throttle? Is it the Potato Potato Potato of a Harley or the Rrrrap of a Ninja or the Purrrrr of a Ducati? Is it the wind in your face? Is it you controlling the power or letting go of the power? Is it the sexy on two wheels? Is it the chrome? Is it the twist of your grip? Is it you, the machine and the road? Is it the adventure? Is it what’s behind you in your mirrors? Is it freedom? Is it the lifestyle? Is it the soul cleansing? Is it the challenge? Is it the bugs in your teeth? Is it the brotherhood? Is it the community? Is it the history? Is it the family? Is it the tradition? Is it the love?

The Short Answer

YES!

Enjoy the Ride

BellsRides