"Turn left at the dead coon, dodge the tree stumps and watch out for the tight turns"

After I delivered the final bunch of live fish in Little Rock, Arkansas I waited and waited, then waited some more. About five hours later I'm on the phone with my dispatcher and he's suggesting I deadhead home (not happening) when he happens to note that they've booked a brokered load for me from Danville, Arkansas to Kansas. It doesn't deliver until Monday so my orders were to pick it up then t-call it at our Kansas City yard the following day.

I get the load information and address for the shipper but my GPS software doesn't find the street and my online Google Maps software shows it in the middle of some other streets. It isn't that big of a town, so I figure I'll head out and find it the old fashioned way.

Hilarity ensues.

A couple hours later I'm in what passes for downtown Danville and there sure isn't a lot of businesses there that seem to need the services of a big rig. I already called the broker but got the answering machine, so I'm kind of stuck. I called the shipper and it turns out they are about twenty miles away near the town of Centerville, Arkansas and the lady I'm speaking with can't believe they ever sent me to Danville (like I would make that up).

Unfortunately, she isn't real good with that compass thingie so I have to take her directions and translate them a bit. Then, I get a call from the broker and he gives me another set of incomprehensible directions that I compare with the first, resulting in something close to the title of this post.

An hour or so later I am in the boonies, at the plant in question. And when I say boonies, listen up: this is Arkansas folks.

The load consists of three huge bags of pet food protein product... think the raw materials that are turned into pet food. The factory itself has a nice odor about it, and several splashes of gore and blood liven up the dock area. They take the "trimmings" from chicken and beef plants in the area and do stuff with it. Yetch.

Anyway, three pallets go in the back for a whopping 6,500 pounds. Because of the delay between loads I only have time enough to head back to civilization, which in this case is the Pilot in Russellville, Arkansas.