Bees like to fly. They don't like to stay inside the hive, especially when the sun is shining. If you're driving down the road and have hives on the back of the truck, even if they're netted, you get escapes. They want to get out. In the back of the truck, they get hot and want to ventilate. When you park the truck, you can't sit there, whistle and have all the bees come back. They fly around. The only option you have is taking off. You leave a cloud of bees behind.
If you're driving down the road on a hot sunny day and stop, it's not uncommon to see, where you stop, a small swarm of bees hanging off one of the little reflectors on the side of the road, or from a tree or whatever. That's because their home has disappeared. The first thing they do is get out and make an orientation flight. Any other traffic there.... Anyone who stops in that particular area is quite likely to get stung.
I've listened to the conversation. It's not a simple problem with the ELDs. I'm pretty sure you guys have all heard the song Convoy by Paul Brandt. It has a line that says:
We tore up all of our swindle sheets
And left 'em sittin' on the scales
That's not how truckers operate. Logbooks and ELDs have a place, and there's a reason we need to have something like that in place. You have to balance paying the bills with taking care of yourself. Everyone driving a truck is doing it because they want to earn an income. However, you have to take care of yourself. When unforeseen circumstances happen on the road.... The driver being tired is not the only risk; it's not the only danger out there. When hauling bees, and when an unforeseen circumstance happens on the road, my first thought is, “What about the other cars around me? I'm parked here. I'm stopped, but what's going to happen with these bees? Are they going to fly off?”
I remember that years ago, I wanted to expand my business. There's a beekeeper in Keremeos who had a bunch of hives he wanted to sell. I thought, “Okay, I'll buy them.” I went to Keremeos to pick up the bees. It was mid-May. The snow melt was going on. The rains were there and whatnot. The plan was this: I would show up at the bee location where the hives were. We would load them up starting at six o'clock in the evening, early evening. I would try to leave before eight o'clock and get down to Sicamous, which is about a three-hour drive away—