Beyond the Blog Day 9 (May 6): One Man Breaks His Barrier and Its Not Me

Reading my blog for this day reminds me of how out-of-sorts I was in the morning.   There was a big party in our hallway at about 11 pm and a drunk construction worker tried to get into my room.   I remember peering out and seeing him fumble with his card, then when it didn’t work, “s***, this ain’t my room”.  It would have been funny under normal circumstances, but getting 9 hours of sleep was the only thing I could count on to keep me going.

It does open the topic of our country’s huge population of itinerant workers, though.  At any given time, budget hotels almost everywhere are hosting a cavalcade of both skilled and semi-skilled workers.   It is a huge part of their business, in fact.   Comfort Inn, Rodeway Inn, Sleep Inn, Red Roof, Motel 6, etc….these budget and “family” hotels are home to hard-working men and women who are forced to travel for weeks or months on end to do their job.   I met folks in construction, demolition, reclamation, telecommunications...even a guy who cleaned out the processing mechanisms in poultry plants.   He worked from 11 pm to 5 am inside the lethal machines that sliced and diced the chicken we take for granted when we buy a pack of frozen chicken fingers.   These people work hard for 8 to 12 hours a day, maybe longer, then come back to their hotel and do a ton of drinking (I’m sure that is not the case for everyone), day in and day out.  On the weekends, they may get flown home (the telecom guys had this privilege, for example).  Or they may just work until they are done.    We don’t really see these people, even when we are looking at a construction crew.   We don’t know the cost of the infrastructure, services, products, and food we all woefully take for granted.   But there is a real people cost to all of these things..folks missing families, working too hard, putting themselves at risk, drinking too much to cope with loneliness.   I saw this at most of the hotels where we stayed.  It was a new insight into a world that most of us know absolutely nothing about.    

The most noteworthy event of this day was Jason’s accomplishment.  It was his first full day of crewing for us, and he rose to the occasion.  Jason actually grew up in this area and has lots of stories about his experiences.   This region of NC is about as local as you can get, not in a bad way, but they have their own unique Carolina culture.   There are lots of small Foothill towns surrounding Shelby, which is known more as a place to get gas and food on your way to the mountains.  Passers-through see the worst part, myself included, but in fact this is a very beautiful, rural area with rolling hills, farmland, and hordes of unleashed dogs.  More on them later, but back to Jason.

We decided to change up our route due to traffic concerns, and we knew we had Becky and Stephanie trailing most of the day.    They had to leave around 3.   I don’t remember exactly how we worked the logistics, but I think Stephanie drove Jason’s Accura most of the day.   He hopped out at the beginning just to get a few miles in.   As we ticked off the distance, he just hung in there.   Becky and Steph were awesome at rolling with all of our last minute changes as we roamed across the countryside.  We passed through Lattimore, Zion, and Waco, small towns that were struggling to keep up, but charming nonetheless.   At one point during the day, our two-car team stopped on a dirt road bordering a field.   A gentleman approached in his truck (as they did), and just said hello, letting us know this was his land but we could stay as long as we wanted.  He turned out to be a doctor-farmer-country gentry who had a beautiful house down the road and farmland that touched the sky.   What a life!  Once again, though, this emphasized the importance of being “official”.  

Jason continued to accompany me through these rich farmlands, through wooded dales, and over bridges spanning deep ravines.   At one point, I stopped and looked down at the water far, far below.   Jason asked me what I was doing, and I replied in all honesty, “I’m thinking of throwing Slappy in”.   Without missing a beat, his response was “Well, that’s fine, but if Slappy is thinking of throwing YOU in, you got a problem”.   True enough, so we continued on our way.  We met hostile dogs every mile or so and chased most of them down.   I swear, people think unleashed dogs are an expression of their freedom or something.   One doggie put on a big show and when we growled back, she immediately flipped over on her back demanding a belly rub.  She was a beautiful black retriever and was one of my all time favorite “Ruck Dogs”.   

When we approached the end of our day, we met Becky and Steph in the parking lot...they could not believe Jason had done the whole thing and were excited for the moment.    Jason and I ran a few laps in the parking area to top off at 24 miles, and we then happily set up camp chairs and enjoyed a cold beer afterwards.   For a day that started out gloomily, it ended wonderfully.    Jason is now a neighborhood legend, for the record.

We sadly had to say goodbye to Becky and Steph, and our tribe changed once more.   I know they hated to go, and it would be awhile before we saw them again, but they had things to do and the Ruck was already consuming a huge amount of their time.

Jason and I returned to Shelby and had dinner at Zaxbys.   I had several sandwiches and we destroyed a tub of fries.   It was a good end to an epic day, and I was moved down to the end of the hallway at the hotel, so no 11 pm parties disturbed me.   Good thing as the next day would be a long haul over lots and lots of hills….