MeInMaine Blog

Tag: maine trucking

  • Prem Pak, The Maine Trucking Company Hauling Potatoes, Paper Products

    Prem Pak, The Maine Trucking Company Hauling Potatoes, Paper Products

    In 1963 My Dad And Mom Bought Their 1st White Tractor Trailer Truck

    Then Kept Adding To The Fleet That Hauled Their Own Home Grown Potatoes And Brokering Other Farmer’s Spuds To Truck Them To Boston, Hartford, New York City. Then Returning To Wakefield Or Medford MA For A Back Haul Of Paper Products… French Fry Cartons For Potato Service In Presque Isle, The Packaging Used Up in Madawaska For Jade East Cologne. Here Are Some Of The Fleet, A Couple Drivers Spotlighted That Just Turned Up Hidden Away At The Farm. Estle McPherson And Dean Lynds I Think Are The Two Of Many Prem Pak Had Up In The Cab And Behind The Wheel. All Powered By Cummins Diesel Engines. Most Trailer Great Dane Models Bought New. To Haul The Trailer Truck Loads.

    Proud Of A Trailer Truck, Prem Pak Transportation Driver Poses Before Climbing Up In The Cab Over.

    Elmer Snell And Al Packard And Gerald Prosser Lifted The Cab Or Opened The Hood Of “Ole Elmer, Dopey” That Kept Everything Running Like A Top! Who Did The Oil Changing, The Wrench Turning Mechanics For The Fleet. Doug McNutt, Albert Fitz, Jeff Bossie, Jack Graham, Roger Oliver, Carl Cottle, Sandy Graham, Reuben Albert. Joey Nadeau, Charlie McAtee, Wayne Drake, Sonny And Bobbie Howe Are Just A Few Of The Drivers That Come To Mind. Fee Free To Add More.

    Jack Graham With His Super Sized Blue Bottle Of Malox Under His Arm Drove The White International Transtar With The 903 Power Plant. My Favorite Driver Was Elwood Kelley Who Drove The 335 Powered Peterbilt And Took Me On Many Trips Riding Shot Gun To The City As A Little Kid Who Helped Unload In The Produce Markets On D Street, Hunt’s Point, Etc. Trading A Left Over Bag Of Russets Or Whatever Variety Of Spuds For Fresh Florida Oranges, Grapefruit Or Melons. Then Eating Whole Fried Clams At The Belle Air Diner On RT 128 Leaving Boston. Kelly Loved Kids And Was An Expert Driver. The Big Farm Barn Worked Excellent For A Truck Terminal For The Ten Trucks, More Trailers.

    Alison Britton The Sign Painter Before Larry McCarthy Took Over Lettering New Trucks Or One’s Fixed After A Wreck Hitting Deer, Trees, Etc. Prem Pak Had ICC Transportation Rights Purchased When McCauley’s Express In MA Was Bought Out Before Deregulation Of Transportation Happened. http://staging.meinmaine.com/…/dopey-was-a-single-screw-with-t…/

    The Old Veteran Drivers Did Not Have Automatic Transmissions Or Electric Fifth Wheel Lock Switches. No Wireless Cells, No Texting “I Just Got Pulled Over By Smokey Bear Whipping Out His Portable Weigh Scales.” As He Climbed The Ladder, Asking For The Log Book. No No… Truckers Used To Drop The Coins With The Correct Change Standing Out in The Cold Using Pay Phone Land Lines. Cupping One Ear While Pressing The Dial Number Phone Tightly To The Other Ear. Trying To Hear Without Outside Wind Blowing, Other Trucks And Cars Zipping By On Lines Where You Got In The Habit Of Shouting When Making Long Distance, Person To Person Calls.

    Part Of The Fleet Of Trucks Hauling Maine Potatoes To The Markets. The Others On The Road.

    Had No XM But Lots Of Bootleg 8 Tracks, CB Radios With Antennae Whips On Both West Coast Mirrors With A Line Hooked To A Linear 75 Or More Watt Amp To Boost The “Breaker Breaker 19 Got Your Ears On?” Channel Signal For The Best Chatter Reception.

    Chain Drive Wallets Tethered To Your Belt Loops With The Leather Held Together By The Big Silver Buckle. Heavy Boots And A Heavy Club To Hit All 18 Tires To Make Sure They Did Not Go Square Many Mile Markers Down The Road. A Flat On The Inside And The Wrong Size Spares In The Trailer Rack … Oh Oh. Better Call John R To Ask What Do You Want Me To Do Now. Overweight In CT Where They Throw You In Jail. Yikes. Overdrive Magazines, Others Quite Exotic Under Tucked Under The Sleeper Bunk Mattress.

    Part Of A Family Owned Trucking Company, Prem Pak Hauled Potatoes Down Country, Paper Products For A Back Haul Load.

    Fans Keeping The Fog Off The Inside Of The Windshield. Heaters Not So Hot Blowing Ice Cold Air. So Wearing Long Underwear And Dressing Warm A Must. Cussing At Air Brakes That Froze Up. Wipers That Won’t When You Need Them Most. During A Snow White Out As You Creep Along And Are Gonna Miss Another Birthday, A Holiday When Told To Turn Around, To Fetch Another Back Haul With Only Five Stops. Your Truck The Home Away From Home.

    And Hey, I’m Broke Down With A Full Load On The Side Of The Road South Of Dallas. You Needed Tow Trucks Lowering The Big Hook With Jimmy Ritchie’s Help At Houlton Truck Garage. Using A Dead Man Block And Tackle To Pull You Back Onto Your Feet Or Out Of The Ditch Hole. Not To Just Open Up A Lap Top To Keep Them Running On All Cylinders And Pointed The Right Direction Down The Highway.

    Trucks Hauling Freight. They Unlike The Railroad Could Give Overnight Service For Just In Time Inventory Control. I Hear Truckers Get Blamed For All The Accidents But Know First Hand They Go Off The Road, Avoid At All Costs Hitting The Car With The Texting Or Hammered Driver Behind The Wheel Causing The Costly Wrecks And Canceled Carrier Insurance.

    You Can Not Stop 73,280 or 100,000 Pounds On A Dime When Driving An 18 Wheeler On Black Ice Good Buddy.

    That’s A Big 10-4, We’re Gone Bye Bye…. Cue Dave Dudley, There Were Quite A Few Entertainers Mining That Behind The Wheel Pulling The Air Horn Musical Theme. He Was One Of The Country And Western Truck Driving Hit Makers. Tap The Link  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4-kUyV76X-g For Some Tuneage That Ties Into This Blog Post Theme. Maine Trucking, As A Little Kid It Was Need To Travel In The Rigs And See The Bright Lights, Big City. Transportation Is The Second Largest Industry In Our Country. Don’t Believe It? Shut Off A City With Truck Deliveries For A Few Days And Hear The Whine, Feel The Pain.

    I’m Maine REALTOR Andrew Mooers, ME Broker

    207.532.6573 | info@mooersrealty.com | 

    MOOERS REALTY 69 North Street Houlton Maine 04730 USA

  • The Call In Maine Comes In, Heading Out Into The Night Happens.

    Maine LL Bean Knapsack Has Brinks Use Without The Armor.
    LL Bean Knapsack, Used For More Than Trail Mix Gorp, Camping, Hiking Supplies.

    Only a few times of the year does it occur, but when the phone rings, vibrates it is a call from a dealer.

    Are you up for a mission he asks? You’ve been through the steps, know the drill. Can be trusted with a knapsack of large bills, plenty of cash. As you leave town from a Maine truck stop.

    Climbing up into the shot gun seat of a large, shiny 18 wheel semi cab over trailer truck. Turn up the Travis Tritt, Hank Williams Jr, Judds and Clint Black please. As the chorus of “Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under?” gets tuned down low to talk.

    After just finishing an Alan Jackson song before that crooning “It’s okay to be itty bitty”.

    That’s a big 10-4 good buddy. Where you heading the driver asks? Glad to have someone to make conversation with besides whoever usually gets dialed up on the head set. To ease the monotony of reflectorized Interstate 95 highway road markers. To pass the time as white line fever runs its course. The miles recorded with a ruler and counting on fingers to keep the log book current, legal.

    You travel light, just barely dressed for the season.

    Hanging on tightly to the $15,000 that is filled to the brim. Stashed with cash, no clothing items in the slightly worn dark green LL Bean knapsack. Except a neon yellow brush, small tooth paste tube and push up stick of red original Old Spice deodorant. The knapsack the one tool item that will never wear out, comes with a life time warranty to be replaced for free. No matter what. Even if it was abused, ridden hard and put away wet so to speak. Nothing the manufacturer could have protected the user from out in the willy wags of Maine. But stood behind with a rock solid promise to each and every customer anyway. Neat.

    You end up in upper state New York. Smelling of diesel. Pine tree hanging air freshener. The driver shakes your hand, watches you climb down out of the air conditioned cab. Going out into the night. Blending into the shadows. Wished good luck. Ten hours later, give or take a few minutes after linking up with the road jockey sitting on an air ride seat. His own chain drive wallet filled with cash for tight places too. For the long ride out and back to Northern Maine. The top of the world.

    You made a series of cell phone calls as you got closer to the pick up destination target.

    Text messages pinged back and forth between your contact. Who does not want to meet you at the truck stop with the goods as you suggest. He clearly, efficiently instructs you to meet him in a dark, off the beaten path place. With only a lonely pay phone, park bench. You doze, nod off waiting. Slumped on the only available hard maple seating to be found in these desolate parts. As you wait, text, call, check where Mickey’s big and little had are now. But nothing. No show from Billy Bob or whatever he said his name was. Just not happening as you grow worried, concerned.

    Until dawn when a truck pulling a trailer with a loud motor. Combined with the sound of loose, flying disturbed gravel jars you awake. Out of the trance where the sand man put you. Mixed with road fatigue, anxiety all taking its toll. Droggy, a long way from home. And the man you had never set eyes on before, nor will ever again is in one major hurry. Nervous, kurt, okay rude. Barking “Got the money?” and not explaining where he has been for the last eight hours. While you were stood up, cut off and a tad edgy about the knapsack contents to worry about losing. Keeping it intact, used for it’s one and only purpose is pretty much all you have thought about since leaving the nice clean bed. The picket fence and attractive home with attached garage. Where the prettier feminine half of the partnership equation awaits your return. Safe and sound. In one piece and alive. Hopefully.

    To pick up a vehicle found online by the car dealer back in Maine.

    What did you think we were leading up to? (Smile). Bought off Ebay this time, not Craig’s List. Not an online rental car depot auction. After careful study of the eighty images of the good, bad and yes ugly. Scanning the car fax, running the VIN and generating a few phone calls, a couple emails. Then setting up the details of the meeting rendezvous.

    With answers to initial vehicle queries going smoothly. No bumps in the road. And it’s why you got the call. To see if you were up for another adventure, a little road trip. As an Army of one. Hitching a ride to the drop off point.

    To bring it in, after the drop of cash released. Getting the keys to fire her up in the exchange. Backed off the trailer behind the pickup with the lift kit, big mudder tires. Sliding across the leather driver’s seat, behind the wheel of the car chased down like Dog the bounty hunter. Without the video cameras, bright lights, boom mic, trench coat and long blond hair dye job. The new to you wheels destined for a dealership parking lot back in Maine. But not staying there for long. Because after a good cleaning, some Texas sunshine being applied with a razzle dazzle of polishes, detailing to make it the prettiest belle of the ball, she’s going to her forever home. Already has a buyer looking for just this kind of ride. In this price range, color and build list of options.

    The last retrieval done a few months back in the heart of Manhattan armed with a larger stack of big bill currency.

    Reeling in something more exotic. A Porsche. The setting more to your liking. Out in the open and in familiar surroundings because you had spent time there as a young buck. Most of the neighborhoods feel deja vu familiar. Carrying cash because your checks are not the legal tender that will cut it. To get a set of keys and then bounce. To high tail it home. With just enough money to pay the highway tolls. Plastic to swipe for the reinbursed gas fill ups. A bite, snacks to eat along the way.

    Maine, a little ways up the pike, but worth the extra two coffees, one bathroom break to get to Vacationland. If it was an easy hike, everyone would be doing it all the time. And something would be lost in the place still unfiltered, natural, unspoiled by man. Unplug, recharge in Maine. Are we there yet?

    I’m Maine REALTOR Andrew Mooers, ME Broker
    207.532.6573
    info@mooersrealty.com