Loading

Viewing entries tagged
traveling

I Found My Thrill On Cabbage Hill

I Found My Thrill On Cabbage Hill

It has taken two years, two trucks, and about ten trips back and forth to Oregon to finally see Cabbage Hill in the daylight. Every time prior to that when we've gone over Cabbage it was dark. I'm wondering if that was preferable.

Cadillac Ranch

Cadillac Ranch

Speaking of out west, I finally got to see *Cadillac Ranch*.  We've drove by it several times but never had the time to stop, or if we did have the time the weather was not favorable.  Today, everything worked out perfectly.

Wake Up and Pay Attention



     Have any of you ever seen the movie "Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit"? I love both the Sister Act movies, not just for their musical entertainment, but for the inspiration they instill. A quote from the movie has been a big inspiration for me in pursuing my dream of being a writer. Here is the scene from the movie:

Whoopi: I know you want to sing. See. I love to sing. Nothing makes me happier. I either wanted to be a singer or the head of the Ice Capades. Hey. Do you know who the Ice Capades are? Don't roll your eyes. They were very cool. 

I went to my mother who gave me this book...called "Letters To A Young Poet". Rainer Maria Rilke. He's a fabulous writer. A fellow used to write to him and say: "I want to be a writer. Please read my stuff." 

And Rilke says to this guy: "Don't ask me about being a writer. lf when you wake up in the morning you can think of nothing but writing...then you're a writer." 

I'm gonna say the same thing to you. If you wake up in the mornin' and you can't think of anything but singin' first...then you're supposed to be a singer.

For me, my dream is to be a writer. It's what I wake up in the morning thinking about, it's what follows me to sleep at night. That is my dream.

I've been on hiatus since last year, but now it's time get busy.  No more dreaming.  No more procrastinating.  It's time to put my ideas and creativity to work.  I have people that believe in me. People that want to help me.  All I have to do is follow the advice from the movie.  Wake Up, pay attention.  Believe in myself, and make my dreams happen!

Maybe your dream is to be a singer, or a nurse, perhaps a teacher, or maybe an artist of some other kind. If you wake up in the morning and you can't think of anything else but that dream... then that is what you are supposed to be. Time to stop dreaming.

It's a new year.  2016, a sweet 16 year.
Time to wake and chase that dream. Pay attention to life and opportunities that might present themselves. MAKE your own opportunities. BE that dream that follows you every day.

If you want to be somebody, if you want to go somewhere, you better wake up and pay attention!



~sierra

Exciting Opportunities!

Teaser Revealed

The other day I mentioned I had a surprise that I couldn't reveal yet.  Well things are pretty much confirmed now.  Some of you might remember the interview I shared from Trucker Path.  

Trucker Path

Trucker Path is an app that truckers and travelers use to help find parking and stopping places across the country.  It's helpful for for locating both major chain truck stops, the old mom and pop stops, rest areas, parking, restaurants nearby, Wal-Mart, hotels, and more.  Every place has user reviews so you know what kind of place it is.  How far away, what exit, what side of the road, etc.  We love it! 

Ok, so the BIG news?

Allen and I use the app all the time. After I spoke with them at MATS to do some cross promotion for Missing Truck Driver Alert Network they ended up interviewing me, as I previously mentioned.

Earlier this week they contacted me about a promotional video/ commercial they are filming.  Trucker Path wants to have me and Allen in it!  They've made arrangements with their production company to get us down to Austin next week for filming.  The video will premier and play the whole time at GATS. I didn't know this, but apparently Trucker Path is one of the big sponsors at GATS, so I'm kind of blown away and excited all at the same time.

The AMAZING RRE team

Allen's company, Roadrunner Expedite, has been wonderful in working with us to give us the time to go there, company shirts, etc.  Such a fantastic team and group of people!! So of course shout outs to Jim, James, Laura, Scott, Nicole, Patrick, and entire dispatch team!  Y'all totally rock! 

~Sierra Sugar

Riddle Me This

How can I feel perfectly content in our average (read small) 73" sleeper "big truck", yet feel claustrophobic traveling up and down the highways here on the East coast of the US?  Logic dictates that there is more room outside the truck than there is inside, right?  But as I stare out the windows each day at the trees and the green I can't help but feel a sense of being closed in, trapped.  All I want to do is retreat to the comfort of the sleeper of the truck to write or draw.  Where its small, where it's safe.  How does that make sense?


I remember the first Twilight book, don't judge me, the books were good, the movies awful. After Bella left Phoenix and arrived in Forks, Washington everything was green and wet. The huge trees crowded her view.  She missed the brown of the desert, the view you could see for miles.  The first time I read the books I didn't quite understand that.  You see, growing up in Florida, yes the beaches and ocean, but also trees, trees, nothing but trees. Trees, and grass, and swamp, and green.  Green everywhere.  Pine trees and great big beautiful Spanish Moss Oaks hundreds of years old crowd the roads, arching over them, canopies protecting all below from the sun and rain.


But you know what else comes with the South and its oceans, and green, and trees, and rains?  Humidity.  The air itself literally weighs on you like one of grandma's heavy quilts. Except this quilt has been soaked in hot water and its steaming you while you bake underneath in the sun, roasting, suffocating.  It's heavy.  It's like trying to walk through hot, sticky, melted butter every day.  But when you live in it your whole life, you don't know any different.  That's life.  You grab an ice cold glass of sweet tea, pull your hair up into a ponytail, and go on.  Open-toe shoes are your best friend.  Cotton breathable clothes are a must for survival in the saturated heat.  Panythose?  Forget about those!  Except for hanging your onions and apples.  AC, big paddle fans, trips to the beach, river, springs, or any other cool watering hole are the elements of survival for summers in the South.  And everywhere you look is green.  Even the beaches.  I didn't know any different, and I couldn't imagine a place where brown and dry would ever be considered beautiful or comforting.


Then I climbed into a big truck.


My whole world changed.


Our first trip out he took me to Seattle by way of Salt Lake City.  After, we went down through Utah.  I was literally rendered speechless and into tears at the beauty of the barren red rock.  For the next 7 months we traveled back and forth across the US.  Up to Seattle and back to Nashville.  Across Utah, Arizona, Colorado, out to California and back.  I saw New Mexico, all over Texas, even up to South Dakota and the Black Hills, Kansas and the great plains.  But everywhere we went, I was always happy to go back west, to Utah, Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico.  Especially Utah, Montana, and Wyoming for some reason.  Each for similar and different reason.  Utah for its breath-taking barren beauty.  But all of them for the wide open spaces.  (queue Dixie Chicks) I felt free and alive out there.  I could look and never get tired of what I saw.  My mind would wander with ideas.  I realized for the first time I didn't feel crowded.


And then we'd head back East.  About the time we would cross the Mississippi River I could feel my mood change.  The roads felt darker.  The trees were taunting me, teasing me.  They hovered, their branches reaching out to snare me.  It felt like a trap.  They were going to hold me back East forever and never let me see the beauty of the West again.  I could feel my anxiety start to rise and my depression start to sink into my chest.  And suddenly I understood what Bella felt.  I longed for the brown.  For the dry, or dryer.  I longed for the wide open spaces.


Everyday we run, well he does.  He drives.  Expedite keeps us moving and busier.  It was a smart move.  But as a solo expedite driver freight lanes are limited.  Meaning, we are limited to the Eastern part of the country.  Don't get me wrong, I've seen some beautiful things I never would have seen.  Expedite gives us lighter loads, we can take some different routes, off the beaten path.  I count myself lucky to see the things I have.  Yet, every day I feel those trees closing in on me, mocking me.  I try to look beyond them in vain.


The outside makes me feel claustrophobic.  It's too small.  Yet the 73" of our sleeper is my safety.  For now atleast.  Until we can figure out a way to get to those wide open spaces once again.


~Sierra Sugar.

Mema's Magic Refrigerator

Fridge and microwave next to the bed in our 73" sleeper.
Mema's magic refrigerator.

My mother's mother lived in northern Mississippi. They had 86 acres of farm land, so there was always an abundance of food, especially veggies. She had a deep freezer, a  second small refrigerator, and a magic refrigerator with an unending hole in the back.

No matter how many left overs we had, or fresh fruit, or gallons of tea getting cold, or any number of things needing to go in the fridge there was always room. More to the point, she alone knew the magic combination to open that vast hole mysteriously cloaked in the back of that old fridge. Nothing ever had to be thrown away that was still edible. And no matter how many groceries she came home with from the commissary, she always found room for it all.

This magical legacy has been passed down to me. Even with the tiny dorm fridge we have in the truck with a freezer smaller than a mailbox, that magically hidden hole opens for me allowing me to find a place for everything that needs chilling. Gallon of creamer? Sure. Milk, 2 types of deli cheese, butter, cream cheese, deli meats, tortillas, condiments, sodas, fruits, and veggies? No problem. A whole pot roast, beef tips, ground beef, ground pork, chicken breasts, frozen spinach and peas?  Sure thing!  Left overs? Pudding? Candy? Chicken salad? Juice? Yogurt? Ricotta? Mozzarella? Eggs? Bacon? Apple sauce? More? I can make it fit with room to spare!

This gift is a god-send while we are over the road.  A big truck, even with a 73" sleeper, has limited space. Every inch is valuable and utilized. Eating out all the time is expensive and unhealthy. I love my little fridge and other appliances that allow me to cook more meals than not while we are on the road. He drives all day, in all weather conditions. This way I can always have fresh food to fix him a nourishing hot meal at the end of the day.

Thank you Mema, for passing down this witchery, this magical heritage, the unending refrigerator hole!

~sierra

Mountain Snow, Deer, and Anxiety


Last week while night driving through the western part of Idaho there was a range of mountains ahead of us that was covered in snow.  It was later in the afternoon, closer to early evening.  The sun hadn't quite set yet, so the sky had that bluish haze of dusk that makes things seem magical and surreal.  While my picture doesn't do justice to the actual site I saw ahead of me, hopefully you can get a little bit of an idea.  We have all heard about mountains being blanketed in snow.  Indeed these appeared that way, blanketed in a shimmery layer of whitish/bluish satin.

Of course cooler weather and snow at these elevations brings creatures of all sorts down from the mountain tops.  This created an up-close encounter that was slightly less exhilarating than the Bald Eagles from the other day.  Rounding a curve there straddling the center line was a mule deer.

A giant female mule deer.

The top of her head must have come at least as high as the hood of our big truck.  There was no where to go, and she was in no hurry to go anywhere.  Thank goodness he was driving because my brain froze.  The only thing I could do was put my feet on the dash (don't laugh) and say “Baby! Baby! Baby! Baby!” over and over again like a record with a scratch stuck in repeat.  With his many years experience of driving his reaction was much calmer and productive.  Thankfully, he was able to slow enough to give the mammoth doe time to make up her mind that yes, she did want to get out of the road.  I watched as she casually trotted off to the snowy grass on the other side and he went around her.

Heart pounding, stomach churning, I spent the rest of the night curled up in the sleeper.  I will never forget that deer, her eyes, her size, and the fear of hitting her or sliding off the side of the mountain.  Thankfully, I will also never forget the beauty seen just a little while before of the satiny mountaintops.  And I am so very thankful for his calm handling of our fully-loaded, nearly 80,000lb truck in that sticky situation.

If anyone ever thinks driving a big truck is a skill-less trade that anyone can do better think again!  It takes a calm mind, quick thinking, rational though, quick and steady reflexes. And lots of road, equipment, land, and animal knowledge to successfully survive out here across America's highways.

~sierra

Size Matters


A beautiful morning in Arkansas, just because.
Bigger doesn't always mean better.  Especially in the case of cities.  Certainly big cities have their benefits.  Most things you could possibly need or want are close by.  Bigger cities usually are a host to a variety of entertainment, cultural, and shopping centers, not to mention easy access to an abundance of educational opportunities.  But they are also crowded, congested, often dirty, and higher crime.  But the biggest thing that stands out to me while traveling across the country is the lack of architectural diversity in larger cities.  Yes, they have huge sky scrapers, interesting medical buildings, art museums where the building itself is a work of art.  But essentially they all look the same.

You have your grid lock of street lights with cars racing between the reds.  You have your big box stores, your typical strip mall shopping centers, your chain restaurants.  You have your residential sections split up according to income and social status.  And driving through these larger cities very little stands out that is worth seeing aside from a famous night skyline or two.  Otherwise, the only thing you are usually watching are the taillights in front of you as you try to avoid an accident from the bumper to bumper, always in a rush, traffic.

It is the smaller towns that catch my eye.  The rural life with its rustic beauty and diversity.  The ones that have historic town hall buildings that are still functional.  The mom and pop stores and family owned grocery.  They are filled with history both in landmarks, stories, and architecture.  These little towns catch the eye as you travel slowly through them with all their neat little buildings and layouts.  They aren't as segregated as the larger cities.  You can often see residential mixed in with businesses, right next to “industrial”.  These little towns are made for walking, exploring, and enjoying.  They boast a slower pace in life.

When we are younger most of us want to escape to the big city to experience all the excitement.  But as I get older I realize the the beauty of a slower paced life and enjoy the quaint beauty of the tiny towns.

~sierra

The Great Pacific Ocean

[For daily updates, more pictures, and humor follow me on Facebook and Twitterer (different content posted to each)  https://m.facebook.com/sierra.sugar ]


“Are those the waves?!”  I exclaimed as we came around a bend in the trail and the shrubbery opened up to the expanse of damp beach sand.  He could only laugh at me, which is his usual reaction to my apparently amusing expressions upon discovering something new.

This was my first view of the Pacific Ocean.


Growing up in Florida, with parents born and raised in Key West, the ocean is no strange sight to me.  Where most kids grew up having their yearly growth measured against a mark on a wall, my parents recorded my growth via video as I played on the beach and my ever increasing adventure as I interacted with the waves.  But just as the Florida Atlantic coast is different from the Gulf coast, the Pacific coast is also vastly different from anything I had ever seen before.

The water was darker color and the waves, even on a calm day furiously crashed in rows and rows back into the cold Pacific waters.  You don't see waves like that in Florida unless a hurricane is blowing.  The shore was 100 yards easily, if not more, of wet sand with tiny little streams of water left from the receding tide.  That means the tidal change on the Pacific coast is MASSIVE compared to the East coast.  Talk about rip tides and undercurrents!  I can only imagine that swimming in these waters during a tidal change could be a challenge even for an experienced swimmer.

Another thing I noticed is that the air was not as salty.  When you get close to the beach in Florida the air is filled not only with the smell of sea salt, but you can quite literally feel it on your skin.  A day at the beach, even if you aren't in the water, will leave your skin and hair with a coating of salt.  I guess because the Pacific is so much larger in water volume, the salinity is significantly less than that of the Atlantic or Gulf.

That morning I woke with the tightness in my chest that signals the onset of a massive anxiety attack or mood swing filled with mania and rage.  What a day to set out on an adventure, right?  As always, he was calm and patient with me, forever understanding.  We walked around on the beach letting the dog run and play (on her leash) while I picked up shells and just marveled at the view.  After the hike through the trails of the state park and an hour out at the beach, my whole being felt calm and happy.  I have always said the beach is my safe place, my place of grounding and peace.  And this particular day was a perfect example how going to the beach can significantly turn around an anxiety attack and manic swing.  The rest of the day and drive was spent with smiles and love, and lots of planning for future trips to the Seattle area.  Looking forward to the spring when he takes me horse-back riding on the beach!



Water marker for flood/tsunami waters. 0.o !!
~sierra