The Story Behind the Truck
Long Haul was under the hood of Rust Dropper back at Steel Wheels’ home base in Ponyville; the sounds of tools, rusty bolts, struggling, and his favorite country and rock station filling one of the several maintenance bays. He had just gotten back from a two month stay on the road, and on the final drive back toward home something had gone wrong and the engine began to make strange sounds.
Once he had gotten the old rig home, and pulled into the maintenance bay of HQ, he found himself where he is now. He had torn into the engine and, after removing the valve covers, found that a series of valves for the first two cylinders on the passenger side had broken, making the intake and exhaust for those two cylinders uncontrollable. Just as he went to start taking the bolts out of the valve heads, Mason and Xenon walked in.
“Yo Long Haul, how’s the troubleshooting coming along?” Mason called as they walked toward the rig. Long Haul extricated himself from the cubby hole he had made inside the wheel well before turning to address the two, “Coming along great actually, I figured out what the problem was; Turns out a couple valves blew their rods out, so cylinders six and seven weren't doing anything but sucking diesel in and blowing it right back out. I probably have half a gallon worth of diesel fuel and oil sitting in my exhaust system now, and my glow plugs are coated in crap too.”
The two seasoned drivers walked up to the rig and looked over what Long Haul had pointed out. After a few seconds, Xenon whistled, “Damn, you’re lucky you didn't have debris cease up a cylinder.” Long Haul chuckled, “Oh trust me I know. When I found it, I had one of those ‘oh shit that could have gone worse’ moments.” The three laughed, the two other drivers having gone through similar situations during their time on the road. When the laughter died down, Mason turned to Long Haul and asked, “So, what’s your plan now?” Long Haul returned his gaze to his hurt motor, “I’m gonna get this valve head off, look it over for damage, and check to make sure the cylinders did make it out unscathed. Then I'll probably take the backup rig into town and pick up a new head. Something cheap most likely, I have those nice new ones coming in about two weeks, so it doesn't have to last me too long.”
Mason and Xenon both nodded, but said nothing. That was until Xenon perked up, “Hey Mason, is Screaming 12-Pack’s old engine still in the back?” His question raised eyebrows on both ponies present, but for different reasons. “Yeah it's still back there” Mason responded, a confused look still adorning his face. “But I don't see what that has...” Mason then face-hoofed with a smile. “Of course! Why didn't I think of that!” Long Haul stared at his two fellow drivers, “What are you two talking about?” Mason’s face turned to his trademark smile, “Follow us kid, we may have just what you need in the back.”
The two then began to walk across the four bay maintenance area, with Long Haul quickly following behind. “The back? I didn't know this place had a back.” Xenon laughed, “Doesn't surprise me, there really was no reason for you to know. The back is just an unsorted area where we usually put parts when we replace them with better quality ones. Backups really, just for these types of situations” Xenon finished as the three drivers approached a door ‘hidden’ at the back of the shop, one that Long Haul had seen multiple times before but just never really paid any attention to. Mason opened the door, before reaching inside and flicking on a light switch. Long Haul was blown away by what he saw. Walls lined with shelving, each covered in a wide range of parts, the floor littered with engines and transmissions alike, some on stands, others just on the floor, and dominating the back of the room, two truck cabs, both of which looked like they had been partly crushed.
“Ah, there it is!” Xenon said as he began walking toward one of the many engines that sat on an engine stand, this one already partly torn down. “What's that?” Long Haul asked as Mason and himself followed Xenon, already partly knowing the answer to his question being ‘an engine.’ Xenon smiled as he pulled the clear, tarp like covering off the engine, “This, was Hook and Ladder’s original engine, a classic 12v71, just like yours, if only a bit older. Back when Hook still had this engine in ‘er, she was known as Screaming 12 pack, for obvious reasons.” Long Haul was a bit surprised to hear that, “A 12v71? From Fire Missions truck? Why would that be here?”
“A few months after Fire started here, around the end of winter, one of his freeze plugs gave out and the block cracked.” Mason said, before motioning to the long metallic fracture that had developed at the back of the engine block. “I can guess Fire took that real well” Long Haul commented. Mason and Xenon both laughed, “No, no he did not.” Then a question hit Long Haul, “Wait a second, if this was the engine that was in Hook and Ladder when Fire started here, what’s in it now? I mean I know it’s still a two stroke, you can just tell when you hear it go by.”
Mason smiled, “Well, he was eventually able to get his hooves on a second hoof Detrot two stroke. He didn’t manage to find another 71 series, but what he did find was a 92 series two stroke. It was not, however, another V12.” Long Haul was somewhat shocked to hear that, “Really? He downgraded himself to a 8v92?” Xenon smiled and shook his head, “No, he didn’t get a V8.” “Well then what did he get! It’s not like a V6 has enough power for a big rig.” Mason and Xenon looked at each other with grins on their faces. “You’re right,” Mason finally said, “The 6v92’s aren’t powerful enough. That’s why he got a 16v92.”
Long Haul was very surprised to hear that, “You’re kidding, you’re kidding right?” Both Mason and Xenon shook their heads, “How! How in Celestia’s name did Fire Mission manage to not only get his hooves on a 16v92, but also fit it into his truck?” Xenon thought for a moment, “If I remember correctly, he acquired the engine from a mining company up in the Crystal Empire. Uh, what were they using it for again Mason?” “They were using it to power one of the conveyor belts that ran rock out of the mine. However, they weren’t used to having a two-stroke engine, so it had constant maintenance problems. Sold it to Fire for a steal of a price because they thought the engine was beyond repair. Fire Mission, being a trained two-stroke mechanic, was able to figure out quite quickly that this wasn’t the case, and soon enough he had it running like a top.”
Long Haul had to smile a little at that, as he knew first hoof the immense amount of knowledge Fire Mission held when it came to diesel engines, especially those of the two-stroke variety. If it wasn’t for the fact that Fire was out on the road up near Manehattan right now, Long Haul would have went to him for help in finding the issue that had been plaguing his truck. “Alright, that makes sense, but it still doesn’t explain how he was able to mount that thing into his truck. As far as I know, you can’t just put a V16 into a truck without some kind of frame and hood modification, even if it once had a V12 in it.” Mason and Xenon both shared a smile, but there was something else behind it that Long Haul just couldn’t put his hoof on. Eventually, Mason spoke: “You’ve come a long way on your mechanical knowledge kid, I like it. You’re completely right, you can’t just slap a 16 in any truck without ah, butchering the frame a little bit, and extending the hood. But we know all about doing that to trucks, don’t we Xenon.”
Xenon grinned and nodded, “Oh yes we do. I still remember everything we went through to rebuild Luna and fit her with that third axle.” That made Long Haul’s ear twitch, rebuild, fit third axle, Xenon helping, but that would mean, “Wait a second, Xenon, you helped refit Luna with her third axle? That would mean that you rebuilt Luna after Xenon joint the crew eight years ago.” Again, the two other drivers grinned, Long Haul was beginning to wonder if that was all those two knew how to do.
“Very astute there Long Haul, and correct. We rebuilt Luna with her third axle about seven months after I started here,” Xenon said before sighing, “Ah, good times.” Mason laughed, “For you maybe. I didn’t get to drive Luna for nearly a year.” Long Haul laughed along with the others, up until another question came soaring out of his mouth, “You know, I’m just curious, but what compelled you to rebuild Luna? By the sound of it, it seems that it wasn’t exactly you’re first choice.”
Mason and Xenon shared a look. “Well, I didn’t really have much of an option, my hooves were somewhat tied. Something needed to be done to fix Luna, so we went all out.” “Fix Luna? What happened to her?” “Well, it had something partly to do with these” Mason said with a sigh as he turned to face the two damaged truck chassis. It was just then that Long Haul remembered the two massive and wrecked truck cabs and frames he had seen when he walked in. “Oh yeah, I saw those when I walked in. I meant to ask what the deal with them was.”
Mason sighed, “Those were two of the company’s first rigs. The dark red one on the left was Grandad’s first new truck, Wheel Spin, and the white one on the right was the company’s original backup rig, but in the months prior to the incident that caused this, it was Xenon’s truck. Did you ever come up with a name for it?” Mason finished, directing the question toward the changeling standing next to him. Xenon shrugged, “Kinda, in a way. I had been thinking about calling him Altivo, but then the wreck happened, so Altivo became Altivo.”
The word wreck peaked Long Haul’s attention, “Wreck? What wreck?” Mason sighed again, “Go ahead and pop a squat kid, this is a bit of a tale.” With that the three drivers sat down on the floor, and Mason began to speak. “This happened about six months after Xenon joined the crew. Back before that it had just been me and Grandad running loads. When Xenon came on, we were more than happy to give him our back up rig, and train him in the art of rig driving ‘OI!”’ Xenon exclaimed, “I knew how to drive a truck, I just wasn’t very good at it is all” Mason stared at him for a second, “You barely knew a damn thing.” “I knew how to shift the 18 speed.” “You knew the shift pattern, but couldn’t remember to double clutch. You blew your flywheel apart twice!” “I could still drive though!” “Do you want me to bring up the story of the first time you tried to pull into the garage.” “Hey! We agreed to never speak of that again; and besides, you know full well that Alt’s hood is quite a bit longer than that old Kraz’s.” “Yea, but.” “Ahem.” Long Haul finally said, breaking up the two feuding drivers and putting his own questions on hold, not the least of which being what the hell a ‘kraz’ is.
“Right, well anyways, when all was said and done, and Xenon began driving full time, it meant Grandad could spend more time off the road and running the show back here, something he was very grateful for.” Mason finished, directing the last comment at the seated Changeling next to him. Xenon just smiled, then slugged Mason in the shoulder. Mason laughed before regaining himself and continuing. “Three months after he started driving proper; Me, Xenon, and Grandad found ourselves up in Tall Tale, we had just dropped off three flatbeds of steel for the back shops, and were getting our next loads figured out.”
The cool late autumn air bit at Mason’s fur as he climbed out of Luna’s warm cab. Himself, Xenon, and Alex had just dropped off three flatbed loads of steel to the Tall Tale locomotive shops, and were now over at E.T.I.’s warehouse based inside the railway’s yard. Grandad and Xenon were already there and waiting, as Mason had to travel into Tall Tale proper to refuel Luna after the long run from Canterlot.
Mason walked into the dispatch office of the warehouse, and found Xenon and Alex sitting around waiting for him. Xenon was the first to look up and notice the red and black maned thestral walking in. “About time” He called as Mason walked over, “Took you long enough Mason.” “Hey, I'm sorry that I didn't feel like waiting until after we collected our loads to fill up. Plus, I was nearly dry! 300 gallons of diesel can only flow into my tanks so fast.” Alex smiled, “It's alright Mason, we weren't waiting for too long. Now, let's go see what they need us to take.” Just as they were standing up to go talk to the dispatcher, another pony came bursting through the warehouse doors and ran over to them. “Who here is the manager of Steel Wheels Trucking?” He asked frantically. Alex raised his hoof, “That'd be me” he said before stretching out the hoof he had raised, “Alex Lighthooves at your service.” The other pony visibly relaxed.
“Oh thank Celestia you haven’t left yet. There was a shunting mix up and a couple of boxcars bound for Vanhoover were left behind, the cargo of which is vital for the continuation of a construction project currently stuck on hold because these materials were mishandled before. We need you to take them up to Vanhoover yourselves.” Alex took all this in for a second before addressing the dispatcher, “Alright, sounds doable; what will we have for trailers?” The dispatcher hesitated for a second, “That’s where I needed to talk to you actually. See, there is so much cargo between the boxcars, we need all three of you to pull Smokey Mountain doubles.”
Smokey Mountain doubles were a special type of double trailers. Due to how twisty the roads through the Smokey Mountains were, and how tight they could be in some places, it’s near impossible to pull a standard twin 48 foot set of trailers. Unless you were some kind of master of truck driving that is. Because of this, whenever someone needed to take a set of doubles over the Smokeys, it usually was set up as one 48 foot trailer behind the cab, and then the second trailer was a smaller 28 foot trailer. This setup was dubbed Smokey Mountain doubles for obvious reasons.
Grandad seemed a little hesitant at this. “Are you sure that is fully necessary?” Mason was a little shocked by his grandfather’s hesitation. “Grandad, I have no issue with taking Smokey Mountain doubles.” Alex turned to look at his grandson, “It’s not you I’m worried about, it’s Xenon.” The changeling behind him almost seemed hurt, “Grandad, I can take a Smokey Mountain double, they’re not that hard to drive with.”
Alex sighed, “I know Xenon, and you’re skill with doubles isn’t entirely what I’m worried about. What I’m worried about more is the weather up in the Smokeys right now. The Smokeys are coated in thick snow, and the roads aren’t much better at the moment. I don’t feel like making you deal with two trailers in the snow is such a good idea just yet.” Alex then stood still for a second, before a lightbulb went off in his head, “I got an idea, but I’m gonna need a forklift.”
Two hours later, Mason was back sitting in Luna, hooked up to a single 48 foot box trailer. With some higher than expert packing skills, Alex had been able to outfit Mason and Xenon with single trailers, Xenon in fact, was now only pulling a single 28 foot box trailer. This had come at a cost however, as now, Alex himself was pulling two full length 48 foot box trailers.
As he sat in his idling truck, Mason reached for his cb, “Uh grandad, I know I’ve said this a few times already, but are you sure about this? I’d feel safer with the original plan. Heck, why isn’t Xenon taking the other full length while you just take a Smokey Mountain double?”
“Yeah, I don’t see why this is necessary” Xenon radioed from his truck situated behind Mason. “Trust me Xenon, you haven’t hauled trailers through the Smokeys in snow yet, you’ll thank me later.” Mason hung up his cb, knowing further arguments were going to change nothing. Xe wasn’t quite ready to give in, however. “It’s against my better judgement to argue with you Grandad, but wouldn’t it be better to get the experience with a full length trailer now, when there are two other experienced drivers around to help me? Don’t forget, I spent quite a lot of time in YakYakistan.” “As true as that may be, you didn’t have to deal with gradients like what were are about to see over in YakYakistan. Trust me Xenon, this is for the best. And besides, I know for a fact that the Kraz you had wore studded snows.”
With that said, the CB radios in the three driver’s cabs fell silent once more, the final decision made. A couple minutes later, after some final checks, the three trucks roared out of the railyard, their trailers in tow, heading towards the snow covered roads of the Smokey Mountains.
Two hours later the trio of trucks were nearing the summit of highway 61, the main highway through the Smokeys between Tall Tale and Vanhoover. As Alex had predicted, the roads were coated in roughly an inch of snow. Though plows were out doing their best to keep the roads through the Smokey Mountains clear, there was just too much road, too much snow, and too few drivers to run the plows. Mason had driven these roads in similar conditions here and there, so he knew how to combat the wheelspin that he ran into more than once on their journey up the mountain. Xenon, for his part, had done well to combat slipping back down the mountain on a slide of frozen water; But, just as Alex had guessed, Xenon was more than thankful for the smaller amount of weight pulling back on him.
Though having a 48 foot trailer on the fifth wheel would mean more weight on the rear drive axles, the three drivers had agreed that the 28 footer had been better off for Xenon in the current situation; Mason however, was impressed by the fact that his grandfather was still moving up the hill. Alex had been smart enough to chain up his rear wheels before starting up the hill, being the only one of the three to actually have the things as he was the one who usually took the northern runs. Because of this, he had developed an almost god like skill of being able to keep his massive and heavy rig under control on the climb up the mountain, only visibly losing traction once. It wasn’t much later that the crest of highway 61 came into sight; about that time, Alex’s voice came over the CB, “Alright boys, we’re about to hit the downstroke. The Vanhoover side of this thing is a bit rougher than this side, so just keep slow and low, and we’ll be fine.”
Mason watched as the trailer in front of him hit the highway’s crest, dropping down onto the short flat section before the actual downward grade. As they bumped off the flat and down onto the other hill, Mason down shifted and switched on the jack brake ready for the long haul down. Half an hour later, they were winding down through the curvey hills of 61 at 20 Miles per Hour, taking every corner with care as they continued their run. Mason was focused solely on the trailer ahead of him, keeping his hooves at the ready to shift, brake, or turn the jake off again, so it was a shock to him when his grandfather’s panicked voice came over the CB with a single, rushed, and chilling message. “BRACE!”
Mason panicked as he watched the tail lights of the trailer in front of him light up, and he heard the wheels lock up and begin to skid. Now Mason had been doing his best to keep at least half a truck length between himself and Alex’s rear trailer, but the shock of what was happening caused him to momentarily freeze. When he finally got on the brakes, he was nearly on top of the rear trailer. The last thing he attempted was spinning the wheel hard to the right, then blackness.
Light slowly started to stream back into Mason’s eyes as he regained consciousness. The last thing he remembered was standing on the brake pedal while practically pulling the steering wheel off its mounting, and then everything had gone black. Now, however, he found himself on the side of the road, sitting in a low snowbank with the sound of sirens blaring in the distance.
“What the hell is going on.” Mason groaned as he pushed himself up and turned toward the source of the blaring sound. The sight that met his eyes was one out of his worst nightmares. Sitting about forty yards away from him was a pile of steel and rubber that had once been trucks and trailers alike. He couldn’t tell where one trailer stopped, and the rig it was attached to began, except for- “LUNA!” Mason cried as he jumped up out of the snow he had been sitting in and rushed toward the mound of steel, ignoring the ensuing pain.
“NO. NONO. NO NO NO NONONNNO!” He cried as he inspected what had once been his truck. Her front half was in near mint condition, looking as if nothing had happened. But everything behind the cab, on the other hoof, was crushed and twisted. The sleeper had been knocked off its mounts, the fifth wheel was gone, the rear axles had been ripped off the chassis, and the chassis itself had been crushed to the point that the gap between the two frame rails was less than a foot. Mason fell to his knees as he stared at the remains of his once beautiful truck, the one thing he still had left that he could actually call his own.
“Mason!” Someone called from behind the broken thestrial. Mason turned to see Xenon running towards him. That made Mason crack a smiled, “Xe, oh thank Celestia and Luna you’re alright.” “A little worse for wear, but I’ve been in more pain before” Xenon said as he stopped in front of Mason. The two shared a quick hug before Mason turned back to look at the mound of wrecked rigs. “What happened?” He finally managed to ask.
“Oh right, you’ve been out of it for a while. Another truck coming up the road lost grip around one of the corners and skidded into the guardrail in front of grandad. Grandad wasn’t able to stop in time, and we stacked up into him. You spun the the right and thunked you driver’s side on his trailer, and I plowed straight into your rear and then into the trailer. Police said the four of us are lucky we didn’t go over the side, and Grandad and I’re lucky to be alive in the first place anyways.”
Hearing Xenon mention four made him think about the one pony they were missing. “Grandad! Where is he!” Xenon pointed towards an ambulance that was parked down near what he presumed was the other truck that had been coming up the hill and caused all of this. Mason ran over to the ambulance to find two paramedics loading Alex into the ambulance on a stretcher. His grandfather didn’t look too good, with several large bandages wrapped around his midsection and an improvised splint on his front right leg.
Alex leaned up on the stretcher as he heard the two approaching. He smiled as he realized who was walking up, “Mason, Xenon, good to see the two of you are alright.” Mason smiled with relief, “I can say the same for you grandad.” One of the paramedics turned turned to face the thestrial and changeling pair, “You two should hop in. It wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to get checked out by a doctor as well.” The two nodded, following behind grandad as he was loaded into the back of the ambulance. As the doors shut, Mason took one last look at accident scene behind them, his only thoughts were that of the future of the company, and his rig.
“We got home almost a week later, and the news of our trucks was bleek. All three were totaled out, with damage to the frame in one way or another. We didn’t take the news very well.” Xenon laughed at the statement, “Me and grandad took it alright; you though, you threw a temper tantrum! Nice to know the first thing you think of in a wreck situation is your precious machine, and not your best friend or only living and caring relative by the way!” Mason huffed, “It wasn’t like that, Luna just happened to be the first thing that I saw. And besides, you would have acted like me if Altivo had the history Luna does.” “Well see, if the only thing I saw was my truck, I would immediately think ‘where the hell is everypony else?’” “I said first not only!” “Hold on a minute!” Long Haul finally said, stopping the two drivers from continuing into another ‘wreck.’ “What did you mean by Luna having a history?” “Oh, Luna was grandad’s first truck, the same one he used to build the company. I didn’t want to let that legacy die out on a fluke.”
Long Haul sat there for a moment, “Yeah, I can see why you would fight to save that.” Mason laughed and smiled, “Thank you! Anyways, I was in the dumps for about a week, until me and Xe met up in a bar one night, and he gave me an idea. As one piece, our frames were junk, but pieced together...” Realization hit Long Haul quick, “Wait, so what you’re telling me is, Luna’s frame as it is now is just pieced together segments from your three trucks.” The two other drivers nodded. If Long Haul hadn’t been sitting down, he would have been on his flank at that point, “Wow, that’s just crazy.”
Xenon laughed, “And that’s not even the craziest part! This crazy bat then got the idea to upgrade Luna a bit. Cranked up her horsepower, swapped in the twin stick, extended the sleeper, whole nine yards. And you will not believe how hard it was to hook up that third axle he stole out of Wheel Spin.” “Why would that have been so hard?” Mason chuckled slightly, “Well you see, to understand that, you’d have to understand a few things about Wheel Spin. See, when grandad bought her, he had come into the money he has now, so he had her custom built. She looks like you’re standard W900 long nose, but she isn’t. She was fitted to run as a 6x6, so her front steering axle has a differential.” This came as a shock to Long Haul, “A front steering axle that has power, I’ve never heard of something like that.” Mason and Xenon chuckled, “Doesn’t surprise me” Xenon said with a smirk, “It isn’t a common setup on trucks, even my Kraz wasn’t a 6x6. It’s only ever really used on heavy duty logging trucks. Grandad got it because there were several times he had to deliver loads far offroad, and he wanted to be prepared.”
“So wait, let me get this straight. Not only did you rebuild Luna out of pieces from three different frames, insert her 20 speed, cranked up her horsepower, and built in her third axle. Not only that, but said third axle not only steers, but has power.” “And is a lift axle with diff locks.” Mason said with a grin. Long Haul did his best to keep going, “And diff locked lift axle. Plus you extended the sleeper, and all of that was done because of an accident caused by an out of control truck in the Smokey Mountains. Am I missing anything?” “Only the fact that everything took about ten months” Xenon said with a grin.
It was at that point that Mason stood with a groan from spending almost two hours on the floor and said, “Speaking of time put into repairs, we should get back to work on Rust Dropper. Come one kid, lets go get that valve head off of Screaming 12.” Long Haul nodded and stood up, groaning much like Mason as his muscles had frozen up over the time he had spent on the floor. But as he stood there trying to shake out the pins and needles that had developed when he had tried to stand, he overheard a whispered conversation between Mason and Xenon as they began to walk away back towards their parts engine, “Mason, I gotta ask, why didn’t you tell Long Haul the full story about what happened at the bar.” “Because that’s something that he didn’t need to worry about.” “Fair enough.” Long Haul stood there for a moment, thinking about what he had overheard. He eventually let it slide and moved to catch up with the duo, feeling that if Mason wanted him to know something, he’d tell him. Plus, the overbearing fact of his broken truck took president in his mind.
Hours later, Long Haul sat in Rust Dropper’s driver’s seat as Xenon was under the hood tightening up the last few bolts. It hadn’t taken too long to get the valve head off Screaming 12 as the motor was already pretty stripped. The next few hours was spent tearing apart the top end of Long Haul’s 12V-72 to the point that they could actually remove the broken valve head.
Thankfully, the cylinders that had been affected by the broken valves had taken no damage to the cylinder walls or the piston itself. Yet, just as Long Haul had guessed, it was easy to tell that a lot of diesel fuel and oil had gotten into the exhaust system. So, while Long Haul and Xenon worked on replacing the broken valve head, Mason had volunteered to partaily take apart the exhaust system to drain out the fluids in it. But, suiting the truck’s name, the bolts holding it in place were badly rusted. In the process of trying to break the bolt loose with a wrench and a long breaker bar ratchet, Mason accidentally bashed himself in the face with the ratchet when the bolt finally gave way and snapped, not only busting open his lip, but also chipping one of his fangs. The swearing fit that followed was legendary, almost as was the laughing fit from a certain changeling. But after he calmed down, stopped the bleeding from his lip, shut his friend up with a bonk on the head, and scheduled an appointment with his dentist, Mason continued to drain out the exhaust system and replace the bolt. Now, finally, everything was in place and Rust Dropper was ready for a startup.
“And done. Alright Long Haul, everything is tightened up, we’re good to go” Xenon said as he cleaned his hooves off. Mason, who was standing outside Rust Dropper’s driver’s door, turned to Long Haul, “Alright kid, start her up.” Long Haul nodded as he reached down and twisted the key. The truck shook as the engine slowly began to crank, then finally, it roared to life. The three driver’s cheered as the engine hummed, sounding good as new. Long Haul couldn’t help himself as he revved the engine, the old two stroke and her turbo howling with life.
As Mason and Xenon shared well earned hoof bumps, Long Haul couldn’t help but cheer as he again revved the engine. As the engine dropped back to idle, a new voice cut through the atmosphere of the maintenance bay, “I see you got the old girl running again Long Haul.” The three drivers turned to the door that led out of the maintenance garage to see a familiar old earth pony standing in the doorway, Long Haul reached for the key and shut down his rig before speaking, “Oh hey grandad. Yeah, we got her all fixed up and ready to roll again, as you might have heard.”
The old stallion laughed as he walked over to his three drivers, “Yes I did, and probably half of Ponyville. They most likely aren’t very happy getting woken up at this hour.” It was only then that the three drivers took notice of the time displayed on the maintenance bay’s clock. 2:14 in the morning.
“Sweet Celestia, when did it get that late!” Mason said as he noticed the time. He then turned to his grandad with a sheepish smile, “Eh, sorry for waking you up grandad.” Alex laughed before speaking, “Oh don’t worry, I wasn’t sleeping yet, I was too busy finishing up paperwork in the office. I heard Rust Dropper start up so I thought I come and check on you three. Although, next time, could you do me a favor and not repaint the garage door in the process.” Long Haul, who had now climbed down out of his rig, turned to look up at the ceiling above his stacks. He almost panicked when he saw that the bay door was now covered in black soot, “He he, sorry about that grandad. I’ll clean that up tomorrow.” Alex waved him off with a hoof, “Don’t worry about it Long Haul, this is the maintenance area anyways, it’s ok if it gets a little dirty. Now, you three have loads for tomorrow, so I’d recommend that you head home and get some sleep. I know for a fact that you have to head out in a few hours Mason.”
The thestrial shrugged, “Not the first time I've had to head out on low sleep, I’ll just make extra coffee again.” He then turned back to his two friends, “Come on guys, let’s head home.” Xenon nodded in agreement, “Yeah, probably a good idea. Kay’s gonna have my head for staying out this late before a load, Again.” The two long time friends made their way out of the maintenance garage as Long Haul closed Rust Dropper’s hood before turning and doing the same. He decided to walk home, as the night wasn’t that cold, and his pickup was still at his house.
Soon enough, he found himself in front of his door. Not long after, he was in his bed and fast asleep, his concerns over the strange conversation between Mason and Xenon long forgotten, overshadowed by the joy he felt at having his truck back in working order. The next afternoon, he and Rust Dropper were hooked up to a load bound for Manhattan, and another stint out on the open road was started for the up and coming asphalt cowboy.