A lovely day in southern California - east LA to be geographically correct. An empty 53 foot trailer, and a pillow manufacturer.
Several other drivers from my company were in the "waiting zone", waiting to be assigned a dock by the shipping/receiving foreman. All pretty standard stuff. Except...
Except that a rig with a 53 foot trailer and a tractor with a sleeper and a relatively long wheelbase totals out to approximately 70 feet when hooked up.
Except that the docking area was in an ally approximately 75 feet wide, from dock to the wall of the building across from it.
Except that each dock had protective weather "shroud" in front of it (in southern California!) that projected about 10 feet from the dock out into the ally.
If you've never seen one of these weather "shrouds" (I call them that because it acts like a burial shroud for the back part of your trailer), I'll try to explain. Basically, it's an aluminum tubed tent covered by some type of opaque vinyl (I remember a sun-weathered yellow). The front of this "tent" is open except for two irritating flexible flaps that, when the trailer is parked at the dock, form a tight seal between the trailer and the outside world. The shroud is about twice as wide as your trailer, except, of course, for the front opening, which is less than the width of your trailer, due to the aforementioned flaps. I suppose it's not a good idea to have a lot of wind blowing around in a pillow factory...
So, here's the situational awareness part of the setup. The shroud is flimsy, so any contact with the support structure of the shroud will effectively destroy it. The flaps at the entrance to the shroud effectively make it impossible to see the actual dock in your mirrors. And the entrance to the shroud is 65 feet or less from the building across the alley. You begin to see the problem.
There was only one way to solve the problem. Since the trailer couldn't be straight on to the dock, I would have to come as close to the "left" side of the shroud structure as possible on just the right angle. Then, swing the tractor around as hard as I could without clipping the wall in front of me, hoping that by the time the tractor was straight with the trailer, the trailer would be straight on to the dock.
Maybe a poorly drawn picture would help. (Perhaps it will only hurt your eyes.)
Blah blah, it worked. I docked it in one try without damaging anything! I may have been lucky, except another driver asked me to back his trailer in too. And another perfect docking in one try! I was so full of myself, I could barely stand me.
Well, my wife happened to be along on this trip, and while I was recounting my glorious victory to other drivers, she was cleaning the windows on the trailer. I remember she was dressed in blue jeans, a white shirt, and a red bandanna on her head. A red bandanna.
I noticed a bunch of workers gathering about 50 yards away, looking at her. Yes, she was a fine sight. Then a local driver came up to me, and kindly told me that those workers weren't gathering there to admire her ass. "This is a blue zone, my friend, and your wife is wearing a red bandanna." A blue zone?
East L.A. Blue zone... AHHHhhhh! Um, honey....
She whipped off the bandanna, spit on it, and started wiping down the windows with it. The crowd dispersed. Phew.
We were on our way to Las Vegas with 7,000 lbs of pillows. Thank you local driver, for your kindness to a stranger!
Several other drivers from my company were in the "waiting zone", waiting to be assigned a dock by the shipping/receiving foreman. All pretty standard stuff. Except...
Except that a rig with a 53 foot trailer and a tractor with a sleeper and a relatively long wheelbase totals out to approximately 70 feet when hooked up.
Except that the docking area was in an ally approximately 75 feet wide, from dock to the wall of the building across from it.
Except that each dock had protective weather "shroud" in front of it (in southern California!) that projected about 10 feet from the dock out into the ally.
If you've never seen one of these weather "shrouds" (I call them that because it acts like a burial shroud for the back part of your trailer), I'll try to explain. Basically, it's an aluminum tubed tent covered by some type of opaque vinyl (I remember a sun-weathered yellow). The front of this "tent" is open except for two irritating flexible flaps that, when the trailer is parked at the dock, form a tight seal between the trailer and the outside world. The shroud is about twice as wide as your trailer, except, of course, for the front opening, which is less than the width of your trailer, due to the aforementioned flaps. I suppose it's not a good idea to have a lot of wind blowing around in a pillow factory...
So, here's the situational awareness part of the setup. The shroud is flimsy, so any contact with the support structure of the shroud will effectively destroy it. The flaps at the entrance to the shroud effectively make it impossible to see the actual dock in your mirrors. And the entrance to the shroud is 65 feet or less from the building across the alley. You begin to see the problem.
There was only one way to solve the problem. Since the trailer couldn't be straight on to the dock, I would have to come as close to the "left" side of the shroud structure as possible on just the right angle. Then, swing the tractor around as hard as I could without clipping the wall in front of me, hoping that by the time the tractor was straight with the trailer, the trailer would be straight on to the dock.
Maybe a poorly drawn picture would help. (Perhaps it will only hurt your eyes.)
Blah blah, it worked. I docked it in one try without damaging anything! I may have been lucky, except another driver asked me to back his trailer in too. And another perfect docking in one try! I was so full of myself, I could barely stand me.
Well, my wife happened to be along on this trip, and while I was recounting my glorious victory to other drivers, she was cleaning the windows on the trailer. I remember she was dressed in blue jeans, a white shirt, and a red bandanna on her head. A red bandanna.
I noticed a bunch of workers gathering about 50 yards away, looking at her. Yes, she was a fine sight. Then a local driver came up to me, and kindly told me that those workers weren't gathering there to admire her ass. "This is a blue zone, my friend, and your wife is wearing a red bandanna." A blue zone?
East L.A. Blue zone... AHHHhhhh! Um, honey....
She whipped off the bandanna, spit on it, and started wiping down the windows with it. The crowd dispersed. Phew.
We were on our way to Las Vegas with 7,000 lbs of pillows. Thank you local driver, for your kindness to a stranger!
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