The Blue Mule
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This is a story of fiction but inspired by the love of trucking and simple rural farm life as it was in the 50s and 60s. A few hours east of Fort Stockton, Texas, Julie saw the sign indicating she was still a long way from San Antonio. Her eyes felt tired. Several miles back, she had nodded off just a second, and it scared her so bad she almost went off the road into a rocky hillside. Second thoughts haunted her mind about the decision she had made to try for the Alamo city tonight. It was now 11:00 PM and the rain hadn't let up making the road almost impossible to see. She cranked up the heat...
This is a story of fiction but inspired by the love of trucking and simple rural farm life as it was in the 50s and 60s. A few hours east of Fort Stockton, Texas, Julie saw the sign indicating she was still a long way from San Antonio. Her eyes felt tired. Several miles back, she had nodded off just a second, and it scared her so bad she almost went off the road into a rocky hillside. Second thoughts haunted her mind about the decision she had made to try for the Alamo city tonight. It was now 11:00 PM and the rain hadn't let up making the road almost impossible to see. She cranked up the heater as the outside temperature dropped considerably colder the further east she traveled. She picked up a Del Rio station on the radio and turned the volume up to keep the cab filled with noise. The country music eased her tired mind as the song play-ing was one of her favorites "yeah," she thought "that's me, Julie Dickinson with nothing but eighteen wheels under my seat and miles of highway ahead."
