I was going thru an underpass when one let go on a truck a couple of lanes over. When I got home I had to go check and make sure there wasn't anything in my skivvies. It absolutely scared the hell out of me when it let loose.
Had one explode on my p/u at about 75mph, nothing left but steel wires. You don't need to worry about messin your drawers, your butt puckers so tite you have to pry youself off the front seat so it would be virtually impoosible to crap.
Hobo Jungle
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dougdagrump
- Posts: 550
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The Dirt wrote:
So I was 16 when you got married?
33 years! (pity the wife!)
Ya know, Pete, all hobos are liars, except for me and you, and I ain't too sure about you.
I was 24 when I married a ready-made family, then added to it a couple years later.
Truck tires, yeah, you gotta love 'em. In the course of my 13 years over the road, I probably had at least 25 blowouts, including 3 steering tires. Those 16 ply Michelins are awesome when they let go. One in particular stands out. I'd been in the Stelco plant (Steel Company of Canada) up in Hamilton Ontario and had had the truck in a nasty place in the mill where all that red oxide dust and crap got inside the wheels from runnin' through water about 10 inches deep. After I got unloaded, they sent me down to Newell, W. Va. to the Globe Refractories to pick up a load of brick goin' back up to Hamilton. I was comin' up through Rochester, Pa, at rush hour in the afternoon, and there were some pretty impatient drivers behind me, just dyin' to get around that gd truck. On a 4 lane city street, this guy behind me finally comes out to pass me up, and just then, the left rear inside dual let go with an explosion the equivalent of 3 sticks of dynamite! It blew a friggin' cloud of that dried red dust and mud all over the place. It was beautiful. I loved it!
If you agree with the Progressives, it's freedom of speech. If you disagree, it's hate speech. There are no alternatives.
Ya know, Pete, all hobos are liars, except for me and you, and I ain't too sure about you.
LOL! Good thing, because I was talkin' out my ***! I mighta been off 10 years or so.
So what did yer wife have on ya, bro, that she got a 24 year-old free-wheelin', tire-squealin', double-dealin', titty-feelin', bar-gong pealin', heart-stealin', fish-reelin' young Mitch to tie the knot and settle down?? Musta been something really nasty! Tell all!!
Can ya even remember 24?
How'd you meet your wife, anyway?
I like to ask this of old folks we get on the unit. Sometimes you hear some pretty charming stories. Lot of the real oldsters met at 'dances' that I guess used to be held in small towns back in the day. One guy went to a dance with one girl and wound up leaving with another who became his wife. One lady met her husband in a grocery line when she was clerking. Bunch of blind dates too.
One lady, (slightly demented) kept saying of her ol' man "He lied and he stole. He lied and he stole", so I asked her why she married him, and she said "He knew how to make up!" LOL LOL
How about the rest of you hobos?
I met MY wife on a psychiatric ward!
Truck stories! Which one to tell? Ahh...
The time is April, 1964. The location Hunter Liggett Military Reservation (about 25 miles southwest of King City, and about 86 miles south of old Fort Ord.)
I was asked to take my 6x6 multi-fuel truck with two 600 gallon diesel fuel tanks on the back up to a radar site on top of a mountain. The site's generators were running low on fuel. One of the other drivers overheard and warned me not to take the obvious turn off to the generators at the top of the hill. He had tried it and when he reached the top, the front wheels did not follow the road, they headed for heaven. When the rear wheels crested the climb, the front fell hard enough that he banged his head on the cab roof of the truck. The guy tending the generators look white as a ghost.
OK, I said, just where is this mountain? The motor pool seagent ordered PFC George to ride with me to show show the way. The trip out was uneventful, although George got mighty excited when I executed a "Y" manuver on top of the mountain to back up to the generators. He was afraid I was going to drive over the edge.
After filling the generators, George was so up set about the idea of my turning the truck around to go back down the way we had come up that he requested that I take the back road down. "OK, where is it?" The descents were so steep that you could not see where they began from up on top of the mountain. George directed me over the edge.
It was not the road down. He had directed me to a fire break. Once over the edge I could not stop. We slid all the way down. I asked George, "Is this it? Seems a little steep." George had turned white and could not speak.
Now, the fuel pump on that truck was like the one in my Chevy Silverado, a centrifigal pump, but in the back of the tank. All the fuel went to the front of the tank, the pump sucked fumes and the engine died. Suddenly George was screaming that we had no brakes and we were going to die. I told him that the engine was still turning, the air pump was pumping and the power steering was still working, try to relax and enjoy the ride. He was silent after that.
As the grade became less steep, the engine started itself and I drove back to the motor pool. I thanked George for his help. George, who had not said a word since that out burst on the fire break, lept out of the truck and started swearing and jumping up and down claiming I had almost killed him and he was never, ever riding with me again.
Just one of many adventures with that truck. Did I ever tell you about the time I got it stuck in the mud up to the frame?
The time is April, 1964. The location Hunter Liggett Military Reservation (about 25 miles southwest of King City, and about 86 miles south of old Fort Ord.)
I was asked to take my 6x6 multi-fuel truck with two 600 gallon diesel fuel tanks on the back up to a radar site on top of a mountain. The site's generators were running low on fuel. One of the other drivers overheard and warned me not to take the obvious turn off to the generators at the top of the hill. He had tried it and when he reached the top, the front wheels did not follow the road, they headed for heaven. When the rear wheels crested the climb, the front fell hard enough that he banged his head on the cab roof of the truck. The guy tending the generators look white as a ghost.
OK, I said, just where is this mountain? The motor pool seagent ordered PFC George to ride with me to show show the way. The trip out was uneventful, although George got mighty excited when I executed a "Y" manuver on top of the mountain to back up to the generators. He was afraid I was going to drive over the edge.
After filling the generators, George was so up set about the idea of my turning the truck around to go back down the way we had come up that he requested that I take the back road down. "OK, where is it?" The descents were so steep that you could not see where they began from up on top of the mountain. George directed me over the edge.
It was not the road down. He had directed me to a fire break. Once over the edge I could not stop. We slid all the way down. I asked George, "Is this it? Seems a little steep." George had turned white and could not speak.
Now, the fuel pump on that truck was like the one in my Chevy Silverado, a centrifigal pump, but in the back of the tank. All the fuel went to the front of the tank, the pump sucked fumes and the engine died. Suddenly George was screaming that we had no brakes and we were going to die. I told him that the engine was still turning, the air pump was pumping and the power steering was still working, try to relax and enjoy the ride. He was silent after that.
As the grade became less steep, the engine started itself and I drove back to the motor pool. I thanked George for his help. George, who had not said a word since that out burst on the fire break, lept out of the truck and started swearing and jumping up and down claiming I had almost killed him and he was never, ever riding with me again.
Just one of many adventures with that truck. Did I ever tell you about the time I got it stuck in the mud up to the frame?
----Wayne----
Back when I was growing up, if you didn't start someth'n, there wouldn't be noth'n.
--Merle Haggard
Back when I was growing up, if you didn't start someth'n, there wouldn't be noth'n.
--Merle Haggard
Well, Pete, she was my first love out of high school, but there was a war on and I went off to the Navy. In the interim, she got pregnant and married and had 2 youngins, but her husband got electrocuted on the Freeport football field when a wire fell while he was sprayin' weed killer. He had worked for the borough. Anyway, that was just after I'd gotten out of the Navy, then a little over a year later we hooked up and been hangin' out ever since. How 'bout that.
If you agree with the Progressives, it's freedom of speech. If you disagree, it's hate speech. There are no alternatives.
Wayne, WOW! Great story! More!
Mitch, that's really something!
I try to imagine what your wife must have gone through, losing a husband that way, let alone having to figure her way through with two young kids. She must have been terrified. I sure I can have no idea what it was like.
Not too many men would have been willing to take on a ready-made family. That can be a minefield all it's own. My hat's off to you, bud.
Mitch, that's really something!
I try to imagine what your wife must have gone through, losing a husband that way, let alone having to figure her way through with two young kids. She must have been terrified. I sure I can have no idea what it was like.
Not too many men would have been willing to take on a ready-made family. That can be a minefield all it's own. My hat's off to you, bud.
LOL, Wayne! Another great army adventure!!!!! 
She sat next to me in algebra class at a college I was going to criminal justice studies for. One day after class I asked her if she'd like to go for a beer with me on my harley. She said "yes", and I've been paying for that offer ever since!
How'd you meet your wife, anyway?
She sat next to me in algebra class at a college I was going to criminal justice studies for. One day after class I asked her if she'd like to go for a beer with me on my harley. She said "yes", and I've been paying for that offer ever since!
Running that red block Charlie.
Here's a safety video on what to do when a blowout happens on a rig ..............................
http://www.olblueusa.org/video/streaming/Michelin_hi.wmv
The only thing it don't show is when one of your trailer tires passes ya which happen to me one time. ........................
hev
http://www.olblueusa.org/video/streaming/Michelin_hi.wmv
The only thing it don't show is when one of your trailer tires passes ya which happen to me one time. ........................
hev
If you want to find history, follow the train man..................
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