I will never forget the first time I went to the field to ride in the tractor with my Dad. I slumped over against the back window of a tractor much like this and fell asleep ten minutes after I got in the cab. I rode for three hours with my head vibrating off the window and teeth chattering. Now that I think about it that might explain a little bit about the way I am.
Many would think that my mom might be a little more caring and insist on some padding or something when she took me to my Grandpa to ride in his tractor. She would bundle me off to my Grandpa where I would ride on the seat arm to his left. Ten minutes after I would get in a tractor like this one I would fall asleep and bang my head against the window. Grandpa would have to catch me every now and then before I pitched face first onto the floor.
Now that I think about it. I may have more concussions from impacting glass than a pro football player. As boring as I found this when I was little, it became pretty exciting when I was a little older and I was put in the seat of a couple tractors to actually work.
The roar of the diesel, the smell of overturned dirt, and the mind-numbing thoughts that come up while listening to WGN and the Cubs. I learned to drive a 4440 John Deere (like the one above) and a Massey Ferguson 1080 before I was a teenager. I will never forget the conversations about tractors, horsepowers, Green versus Red and the weather while squirting grease or pumping fuel.
I once watched my Great Uncle Harley unloading wheat into a grain truck over fill the bed. He was talking with my Grandpa Sare about something as I watched bushels of wheat pour over the side of his truck. After a couple of minutes they paused and I yelled out "Hey Uncle Harley!" pointing at the truck. I haven't seen anyone mash levers and pop clutches like that before. I was about 5 or 6 at the time. He came down off the combine to look at the spilled wheat and said. "Why didn't you say something?"
"I got in trouble for interrupting adults while they were talking. You and Grandpa wouldn't stop talking so I could tell you." I informed him. Both men couldn't stop laughing and I still remember thinking it wasn't funny. I was tired of being in trouble because I didn't know when to be quiet. Grandpa gave me a handful of wheat to chew. It will turn into chewing gum after a while. Doesn't taste very good but it kept me from talking a lot.
Now that I have been away from the farm for 14 years I am really beginning to miss the freedom that I experienced in that operators seat. I was my own boss and there was no one asking about a silly printer. This has led to some good conversations with my father about the good old days.
Dad recently started to send me pictures and videos from the Decatur, IL Half Century of Progress Show. He was riding around in his golf cart with Joe Burney and Ed Grubb looking at old tractors as they turned over the earth.
Now that I think about it. I may have more concussions from impacting glass than a pro football player. As boring as I found this when I was little, it became pretty exciting when I was a little older and I was put in the seat of a couple tractors to actually work.
The roar of the diesel, the smell of overturned dirt, and the mind-numbing thoughts that come up while listening to WGN and the Cubs. I learned to drive a 4440 John Deere (like the one above) and a Massey Ferguson 1080 before I was a teenager. I will never forget the conversations about tractors, horsepowers, Green versus Red and the weather while squirting grease or pumping fuel.
I once watched my Great Uncle Harley unloading wheat into a grain truck over fill the bed. He was talking with my Grandpa Sare about something as I watched bushels of wheat pour over the side of his truck. After a couple of minutes they paused and I yelled out "Hey Uncle Harley!" pointing at the truck. I haven't seen anyone mash levers and pop clutches like that before. I was about 5 or 6 at the time. He came down off the combine to look at the spilled wheat and said. "Why didn't you say something?"
"I got in trouble for interrupting adults while they were talking. You and Grandpa wouldn't stop talking so I could tell you." I informed him. Both men couldn't stop laughing and I still remember thinking it wasn't funny. I was tired of being in trouble because I didn't know when to be quiet. Grandpa gave me a handful of wheat to chew. It will turn into chewing gum after a while. Doesn't taste very good but it kept me from talking a lot.
Now that I have been away from the farm for 14 years I am really beginning to miss the freedom that I experienced in that operators seat. I was my own boss and there was no one asking about a silly printer. This has led to some good conversations with my father about the good old days.
Dad recently started to send me pictures and videos from the Decatur, IL Half Century of Progress Show. He was riding around in his golf cart with Joe Burney and Ed Grubb looking at old tractors as they turned over the earth.
We talked for three or four hours over the course of a few days as he sent me videos like the one above. We talked about how he used to set up tractors. Tractors we had on the family farm and where they ended up. I found it interesting as we chatted about stories of things we used to do. I have been very homesick lately as the fall season arrives and Dad is telling me about getting the combine ready and the run up to harvest.
Sigh, of course this means I am watching videos on Youtube and looking at auctions for farm toys and even tractors. I found a restored MF 1135 for $15000! I couldn't figure out how to park it in my back yard and sneak it past the HOA. (I couldn't) I called Dad. I didn't quite beg but I was feeling the addiction. One more time behind the wheel of an old tractor with bad AC and an AM radio.
If no one understands why I am this obsessed the should visit my house. I was watching a playlist of stock farm tractors at a couple of Indiana fairs. In the dining room in a place of honor is a copy of a print taken by my Uncle Steve Drollinger. It is of Grandpa Sare pulling in his John Deere 4440 at the Vermillion County Fair back home. I love that picture as the wheels are rising off the ground. The tractor roaring as it pulled, it awakens feelings of power in a young man. Dad and I have enjoyed the beauty of these machines for many years together. Time to go start up my little Massey 7. Maybe I will drink some coffee and drive it up and down the street.
I leave you with two final videos. The first is a video of Avalanche pulling a 20 bottom plow. Dad was standing right in the dust of the plow as it went by. Pretty amazing. The last is by a Youtube channel Big Tractor Power. I am attaching it because I know some Hicks cousins would like to take a look.
Sigh, of course this means I am watching videos on Youtube and looking at auctions for farm toys and even tractors. I found a restored MF 1135 for $15000! I couldn't figure out how to park it in my back yard and sneak it past the HOA. (I couldn't) I called Dad. I didn't quite beg but I was feeling the addiction. One more time behind the wheel of an old tractor with bad AC and an AM radio.
If no one understands why I am this obsessed the should visit my house. I was watching a playlist of stock farm tractors at a couple of Indiana fairs. In the dining room in a place of honor is a copy of a print taken by my Uncle Steve Drollinger. It is of Grandpa Sare pulling in his John Deere 4440 at the Vermillion County Fair back home. I love that picture as the wheels are rising off the ground. The tractor roaring as it pulled, it awakens feelings of power in a young man. Dad and I have enjoyed the beauty of these machines for many years together. Time to go start up my little Massey 7. Maybe I will drink some coffee and drive it up and down the street.
I leave you with two final videos. The first is a video of Avalanche pulling a 20 bottom plow. Dad was standing right in the dust of the plow as it went by. Pretty amazing. The last is by a Youtube channel Big Tractor Power. I am attaching it because I know some Hicks cousins would like to take a look.