2005 Hurricane Katrina Staff Volunteers - Long Haul In Short Supply

(Editor's note: Last September, former Four Wheeler editor and longtime contributor Jimmy Nylund got involved in the Hurricane Katrina relief efforts, volunteering his '80 Peterbilt 359 semitractor-trailer-and himself, as driver-to deliver much-needed supplies to survivors in the wake of the storm. In this case, they were four-legged survivors, as volunteers in Los Angeles loaded his tandem trailers with 12,000 pounds of pet food for the trip to Lafayette, Louisiana. What follows is Jimmy's account of a 4,000-mile race against time, and back again, done with little food or sleep. Warning: There is no four-wheeling here, but we thought Jimmy, and the many folks who helped him, deserved some props for their selfless efforts. We like to think of this as a living example of the four-wheeler spirit in action.)

Technically, the previous day was really the longest, as it was spent getting ready for the trip on short notice. Aside from packing the needed things, several vehicular maintenance items had to be dealt with since I hadn't planned to go anywhere for a while. Many hours were also spent on the phone trying to borrow a second van trailer, but unsuccessfully. My flatbed didn't seem ideal for the task, and as it turned out, initially it wasn't. The first indication was when I went to pull it out from its parking place with my Blazer and a portable air tank at about 9:00 p.m., only to find that a rodent had chewed an air line completely off, and not in the most accessible spot. By 1:30 a.m. I fell asleep, almost literally, but relatively ready to leave.

At 7:15 in the morning I arrived at the Katrina Relief collection location in Van Nuys, California, greeted by red-eyed volunteers and lots of pallets with donated goods lining the sidewalks. I had hoped to reach Arizona by the end of the day, but it quickly became clear that things weren't going to go as planned. Hours were spent waiting while the volunteer group's 30 chiefs and three Indians argued about whether I'd be allowed a load on the flatbed. Looting and/or hijacking were the stated reasons, just as with the requirement of having either a co-driver or escort car. I flat refused the co-driver/escort car scenario-ever see a car go 1,500 miles before stopping for fuel?-since I do not stop unless I have to. Eating isn't a "have-to."

Part of the waiting time was used for worthwhile causes, such as convincing my girlfriend that she really should drive to the DMV and then bring the paperwork to me (some 60 miles total), after paying for at least 15,000 pounds more Gross Combined Vehicle Weight than what my truck tractor was registered for. Luckily she did, because this load turned out to be far heavier than my normal cargo, a Jeep. Several phone calls were also made in an effort to get a new set of steer tires on very short notice since the old ones were bad enough that they likely wouldn't last another 4,000 miles.

About the time both trailers were finally loaded, we'd made a trip to the local cheap-tarp store, and things were reasonably well tied down. I got a welcome call-the tires were ready to be picked up at Toyo's new warehouse in Mira Loma, California. I just had to be there by 3:00 p.m. Too bad it was 60-plus miles away and 2:30 by now.

At 3:00 p.m., I hit the freeway, in Los Angeles. That meant driving a whopping 63 miles in 2.5 hours. Sure honed my (18-speed) shifting skills, though, and I made it to the Toyo warehouse before dark. I'd already arranged for the new tires to be installed in Yuma the next morning. The only problem was that some paperwork was missing, so it was over two hours later that I finally got going again. I only lasted to Salton City, where I slept in the Super Burger parking lot with a dismal 215 miles on the odometer. It felt very wrong not to go four-wheeling at nearby Truckhaven Hills.

The smell of dog food was starting to permeate the living quarters of the trailer-some of the loose bags in the back were not completely sealed.

At the Arizona Port of Entry, the inspectors quizzed me about the load, destination, and more. Naturally, I'd mistakenly given them my old registration, and the scales read 49,980 pounds-with only half-full fuel tanks. Oops. It all got sorted out-but not until they had bonked every accessible part of the trailer floor with a rubber mallet. "Looking for ants" was the reason. Guess they didn't want any endangered ants to fall off and get run over by the second trailer.

I arrived at Franklin Tire & Suspension in Yuma late in the morning, where Dennis Franklin put his paying customers on hold to quickly mount the Toyos. Between the meticulous prep work (removing all corrosion on the rim's sealing surfaces) and the quality tires, they didn't even require any wheel weights. A quick trip to the cheap-bungee store helped contain the poorly packaged pallets on the flatbed a bit better, but I couldn't get out of Franklin's parking lot before complete strangers had stopped by to offer $60 towards my effort-twice. That kind of made the annoying smell of dog food disappear.

I stopped in Deming, New Mexico, for the night, really wanting to take a shower and sleep. Had to have some cheese and crackers first, though, since I hadn't had a meal since Day Zero. It dawned on me that I hadn't thought, "Why am I doing this again?" a single time this day, but I was starting to wonder if I'd ever get there in time. A measly 578 miles added to the odometer, or 801 total for two days. I'd never make it as an owner/operator.