#BELL HORSE DROPS TOOTHPICKS DRIVERS#
#BELL HORSE DROPS TOOTHPICKS FULL#

Wanna get up early and meet me for breakfast?' 'I'm leaving Phoenix and I have to fuel and break in Eloy. 'Oh yeah, Mucho Bedda, where you at, Vato?' It takes two hands to twist the cap on a cold MGD and two more to twist the cap on a cold pint of Sauza silver, the drinking requires two hand s as well.

#BELL HORSE DROPS TOOTHPICKS DRIVERS#

Where are you?' Morgan reached in the fridge behind the drivers chair for the fever reliever, 'Texas Canyon, Hang on a minute.: He couldn't help but look at the van, 'that thing is smokin'' was his initial thought, no flames, just a hazy smoke that rose from the rear of the bus. This thing was painted sky blue with stars on the lower body, including a see through plastic dome attached to the roof.

On the opposite side was an old hippie VW microbus with all the makings of a 1968 Grateful Dead Hump Van. He saw one truck parked two hundred feet down the hill. Morgan was positive, 'Aww fuckin right, and I get the spot in front of the shitter.'

#BELL HORSE DROPS TOOTHPICKS FULL#

Usually the place was full to the brim forcing you to drive to Benson and stay at the truck stop. This scenario is repeated on the south side of I-10 if you are eastbound. There is parking space to the north of the trucks for the same amount of cars and sidewalks and restrooms. This place has room for fifty trucks with 53' trailers. Pulling into the 'pickle park' Morgan was surprised at the vacancy. His jaw hurt from chewing gum for fourteen hours. The day was wearin' heavy and he needed a fever reliever to get rid of his late afternoon jitters. They resemble a child‘s toy blocks, but oddly shaped, and at this time of night they throw strange shadows across Interstate 10. The rocks are stacked one on top of another and are found in all shapes and sizes. Texas Canyon is an eerie spot in the middle of the desert going west towards Phoenix from the New Mexico line. It was 7:30 pm Central, the sun was setting and Morgan decided it was break time.

The old Peterbilt came to life at the beginning of the climb. Morgan wiped his face with his handkerchief, downshifted for the first hill in Texas Canyon, Arizona. Rich had turned Morgan onto giddyaps, said, 'If they don't work put the toothpicks under your eyelids and just keep drivin'.' The rules didn't apply and they knew their way around DOT scales the jackrabbits wouldn't take. Bull haulers were renegades then and now. RichieMac and 'Hemorrhoid' had left Able together to run bull wagons for a West Texas outfit. Morgan and Rich had known each other for years, dating back to Able Air Express of Austin, Texas in the 80's. They were soaked in 'giddyap' formula, That was RichieMac McGuire's name for the Mexican horse liniment used to power you down the road at the speed of light. Pouring a fresh cup of coffee Morgan found one of the bottles of toothpicks in the cubbyhole on his dashboard. That was at 4:30am this morning, he'd been driving fifteen hours and was buzzing. He was lucky this time, his delivery in Vegas would be his only drop and there was no schedule after that. The manager at the other end had put a label on him the last time he pulled in late. Morgan Hanfield had heard the bullshit before, leaving four hours late pissed him to no end. Handpicked crap from all over the United States assembled on a half mile of truck dock just east of the stadium in Dallas. The doors creaked closed on the near 76000 pounds of junk the freight manager stuffed in trailer #10953.

Bell horse drops toothpicks