Lessons Taught by Animals and Machinery!
Jul 19, 2021 19:59:41 #
Most of us have had to deal with life as we found it, particularly as a kid and as a teenager, we didn’t have much choice. Well, at least I didn’t. Since the only jobs in my community were farm or ranch jobs, that is how I earned my ‘spurs’ in a manner of speaking.
Early on, it was bailing hay with an early iteration of a gasoline engine powered stationary hay bailer. It required two men to punch and tie the wires on each bale, then about 6 men to feed the intake with loose cut hay, and finally a man and team of horses to run a buck rake to collect and bring the hay to the bailer. Yes, it was primitive and loud and dirty, but it paid all of a penny a bale! Often we did not earn enough to pay for the gasoline needed to get to the job site!
When was this, circa 1949 to 1952? Along the way, the equipment got more sophisticated, and I was given the job of driving a John Deere tractor pulling an automatic John Deere hay bailer. I was selected for this job because I knew how to fix, or repair the wire tying apparatus when it got confused or broken. We would take a week to bail a single pasture of 1,000 acres of native prairie grass. There was an adjoining plot of 600 acres.
Before this experience, I worked for a family doing almost any chore they needed done. They had a large ranch with a very deep canyon near their house. For some reason there was a short cut that included fording the creek at the bottom of this canyon. They had cut a deep path down through the side of this canyon so cars and other vehicles could cross, saving them having to drive 5 of 6 miles out of the way to get the same destination. Often a car would either get stuck in the sandy bottom of this creek, or not be able to climb the steep incline of the road cut into the creek bank. I was taught how to take this large tractor that did not have any brakes to slowly ease it down the embankment until I got close enough to hook a chain to the vehicle and then slowly back up the steep incline to pull the car up the embankment. Now, since the tractor had no brakes, I would have to hug the steep embankment with one to the large tractor tires to either slow it down or stop it by wedging the wheel against the dirt embankment. Once we had the chain attached, I would then put the monster in reverse to drag the car back up the bank to level ground.
This was the same tractor that the owner set me to plowing up about 50 acres of bottom land adjacent to this same deep canyon. My first problem was in refueling the tractor. He left me with a 55-gallon barrel of fuel. When I needed to refill the tractor, I had to wrestle the barrel and get a 5-gallon bucket in the right position to capture the gasoline. It wasn’t easy. Once I spilled a lot of gasoline on my Levi’s and it blistered my leg where the gas had come into contact with my skin. This tractor had a total turning radius that was only a few degrees, which was different than most of the tractors I was accustomed to driving. Once, I was plowing along and had both legs stuck up under the throttle bar and steering column.
I have to admit I was half put to sleep by the sound of the engine and the slow motion of the 10-foot disc that it was pulling. I looked ahead and realized the tractor was getting rather close to the canyon bank, which was at least 30 feet or more to bottom. I then began to try to extract my legs and discovered that my new Levi’s where hung, and I wasn’t able to easily extract them. I had to get one leg out to push in the clutch which was the only way to stop this machine from running right off the edge of this canyon. I had on brand new Levi’s, and in those days, one bought their Levi’s at least 2 inches larger and longer because they would shrink up that much in the first wash. Well, the cuff on the pants was what had hung and keeping me from easily extracting my leg to push in the clutch which was inconveniently on the opposite side of the steering wheel.
I began to feel a real sense of panic and began to jerk harder to get my legs free. I finally made the move and stopped the tractor but only about 5 or 6 feet from the edge! It was a close call, and one that I never told the owner of the farm, or my parents about my close call!
Had I not been able to have done this, the 10 double discs would have made it possible for there to have been several different funerals for all the pieces of me that others would have found at the bottom of the canyon.
Less dangerous, but more painful was an incident with the first mobile hay bailer I was allowed to work on. It had a large fly wheel on the left side and was pulled by a tractor. I had the job of a seat attached to the bailer on this side so I could punch wires through and my cousin, Duane would tie them on the other side of each bale of hay. Well, when you stopped, you also shut down the bailer. When we started up again, the fly wheel had to be given a spin, and the procedure was very exact. You were to put your right hand safely out of the way and grip the edge of the fly wheel with your left hand to spin it, starting the bailer in motion.
We had stopped and a break and a drink of ice water. My father had stopped by and was
visiting with us and when we got ready to go, I forgot and instead of following the correct protocol, I forgot to place my right hand in the safe location but spun the fly wheel with it. Well, there really wasn’t room for your right hand between the fly wheel and the frame of the bailer, which skinned it up. I didn’t say a word, even though I had severely skinned my knuckles, but managed to pull my hand free, take my seat and we moved on out. Later, I had time to look at my hand to see just how much damage was there. It wasn’t too bad but was sore for a few days.
The owner, who was driving the tractor noticed that what I had done and came back to see how badly I was injured, but we were both relieved it wasn’t serious. I did learn to follow the correct procedure from then on.
What I eventually learned, and most folks have to learn and respect farm machinery, it does not care, one way or another what you do, if you make a mistake you will pay for it, wither just with skinned knuckles or with your life,
Now, on the cowboy side, I had some interesting events. One of my primary job was to keep an eye on all the cows that were expecting to deliver calves. In those years, there was the danger of screw worm infestation because there was not state wide eradication of this population and when a baby calf was born it would likely get its navel infected by blow flies laying eggs in and around its umbilical cord. If left untreated, the maggots would invade the calf’s stomach and death would result.
I kept a close eye on all the cows and when a mother cow was ready to give birth, she often would leave the herd and hide out in the woods nearby. I would be mounted and rode around watching and keeping track of any pregnant cow’s absence. When one was missing I would search for her and her calf. I then would rope the calf; hog tie its legs so I could treat its naval. I would be carrying all the medicine needed to both kill the worm infestation and then some black stinking medicine to put on the wound and keep fly from reinfecting the calf.
The biggest problem was often the mother and calf would try to run and escape my attention. One time when I finally spotted the two, they took off running, and we are running behind dodging trees and such. Well, my horse hit a strand of barbed wire that had grown into two trees. It had been mostly removed except for this last bottom strand and it tripped my horse. I had always been taught to keep my boot toes in the stirrups not to ever have my foot all the way in. This way, I could kick out and not fall with the horse, which can be fatal. I did kick out and went flying over the horse’s neck and was running as fast I possibly could to keep from falling. I then came back and checked my horse’s legs to make certain it had not been cut by the wire.
I had never come closer to taking a spill as this time chasing a mother and her calf!
Sometimes, you would find a mother cow, if it were her first calf, would need help in delivery. But just as soon as the calf was born, the mother would want to fight you. So, it required her being tied to a tree if one was handy, just in case. YIPPEEOOKAYAA , Just Saying…RJS
Lessons Taught by Animals and Machinery!
Most of us have had to deal with life as we found it, particularly as a kid and as a teenager, we didn’t have much choice. Well, at least I didn’t. Since the only jobs in my community were farm or ranch jobs, that is how I earned my ‘spurs’ in a manner of speaking.
Early on, it was bailing hay with an early iteration of a gasoline engine powered stationary hay bailer. It required two men to punch and tie the wires on each bale, then about 6 men to feed the intake with loose cut hay, and finally a man and team of horses to run a buck rake to collect and bring the hay to the bailer. Yes, it was primitive and loud and dirty, but it paid all of a penny a bale! Often we did not earn enough to pay for the gasoline needed to get to the job site!
When was this, circa 1949 to 1952? Along the way, the equipment got more sophisticated, and I was given the job of driving a John Deere tractor pulling an automatic John Deere hay bailer. I was selected for this job because I knew how to fix, or repair the wire tying apparatus when it got confused or broken. We would take a week to bail a single pasture of 1,000 acres of native prairie grass. There was an adjoining plot of 600 acres.
Before this experience, I worked for a family doing almost any chore they needed done. They had a large ranch with a very deep canyon near their house. For some reason there was a short cut that included fording the creek at the bottom of this canyon. They had cut a deep path down through the side of this canyon so cars and other vehicles could cross, saving them having to drive 5 of 6 miles out of the way to get the same destination. Often a car would either get stuck in the sandy bottom of this creek, or not be able to climb the steep incline of the road cut into the creek bank. I was taught how to take this large tractor that did not have any brakes to slowly ease it down the embankment until I got close enough to hook a chain to the vehicle and then slowly back up the steep incline to pull the car up the embankment. Now, since the tractor had no brakes, I would have to hug the steep embankment with one to the large tractor tires to either slow it down or stop it by wedging the wheel against the dirt embankment. Once we had the chain attached, I would then put the monster in reverse to drag the car back up the bank to level ground.
This was the same tractor that the owner set me to plowing up about 50 acres of bottom land adjacent to this same deep canyon. My first problem was in refueling the tractor. He left me with a 55-gallon barrel of fuel. When I needed to refill the tractor, I had to wrestle the barrel and get a 5-gallon bucket in the right position to capture the gasoline. It wasn’t easy. Once I spilled a lot of gasoline on my Levi’s and it blistered my leg where the gas had come into contact with my skin. This tractor had a total turning radius that was only a few degrees, which was different than most of the tractors I was accustomed to driving. Once, I was plowing along and had both legs stuck up under the throttle bar and steering column.
I have to admit I was half put to sleep by the sound of the engine and the slow motion of the 10-foot disc that it was pulling. I looked ahead and realized the tractor was getting rather close to the canyon bank, which was at least 30 feet or more to bottom. I then began to try to extract my legs and discovered that my new Levi’s where hung, and I wasn’t able to easily extract them. I had to get one leg out to push in the clutch which was the only way to stop this machine from running right off the edge of this canyon. I had on brand new Levi’s, and in those days, one bought their Levi’s at least 2 inches larger and longer because they would shrink up that much in the first wash. Well, the cuff on the pants was what had hung and keeping me from easily extracting my leg to push in the clutch which was inconveniently on the opposite side of the steering wheel.
I began to feel a real sense of panic and began to jerk harder to get my legs free. I finally made the move and stopped the tractor but only about 5 or 6 feet from the edge! It was a close call, and one that I never told the owner of the farm, or my parents about my close call!
Had I not been able to have done this, the 10 double discs would have made it possible for there to have been several different funerals for all the pieces of me that others would have found at the bottom of the canyon.
Less dangerous, but more painful was an incident with the first mobile hay bailer I was allowed to work on. It had a large fly wheel on the left side and was pulled by a tractor. I had the job of a seat attached to the bailer on this side so I could punch wires through and my cousin, Duane would tie them on the other side of each bale of hay. Well, when you stopped, you also shut down the bailer. When we started up again, the fly wheel had to be given a spin, and the procedure was very exact. You were to put your right hand safely out of the way and grip the edge of the fly wheel with your left hand to spin it, starting the bailer in motion.
We had stopped and a break and a drink of ice water. My father had stopped by and was
visiting with us and when we got ready to go, I forgot and instead of following the correct protocol, I forgot to place my right hand in the safe location but spun the fly wheel with it. Well, there really wasn’t room for your right hand between the fly wheel and the frame of the bailer, which skinned it up. I didn’t say a word, even though I had severely skinned my knuckles, but managed to pull my hand free, take my seat and we moved on out. Later, I had time to look at my hand to see just how much damage was there. It wasn’t too bad but was sore for a few days.
The owner, who was driving the tractor noticed that what I had done and came back to see how badly I was injured, but we were both relieved it wasn’t serious. I did learn to follow the correct procedure from then on.
What I eventually learned, and most folks have to learn and respect farm machinery, it does not care, one way or another what you do, if you make a mistake you will pay for it, wither just with skinned knuckles or with your life,
Now, on the cowboy side, I had some interesting events. One of my primary job was to keep an eye on all the cows that were expecting to deliver calves.
Early on, it was bailing hay with an early iteration of a gasoline engine powered stationary hay bailer. It required two men to punch and tie the wires on each bale, then about 6 men to feed the intake with loose cut hay, and finally a man and team of horses to run a buck rake to collect and bring the hay to the bailer. Yes, it was primitive and loud and dirty, but it paid all of a penny a bale! Often we did not earn enough to pay for the gasoline needed to get to the job site!
When was this, circa 1949 to 1952? Along the way, the equipment got more sophisticated, and I was given the job of driving a John Deere tractor pulling an automatic John Deere hay bailer. I was selected for this job because I knew how to fix, or repair the wire tying apparatus when it got confused or broken. We would take a week to bail a single pasture of 1,000 acres of native prairie grass. There was an adjoining plot of 600 acres.
Before this experience, I worked for a family doing almost any chore they needed done. They had a large ranch with a very deep canyon near their house. For some reason there was a short cut that included fording the creek at the bottom of this canyon. They had cut a deep path down through the side of this canyon so cars and other vehicles could cross, saving them having to drive 5 of 6 miles out of the way to get the same destination. Often a car would either get stuck in the sandy bottom of this creek, or not be able to climb the steep incline of the road cut into the creek bank. I was taught how to take this large tractor that did not have any brakes to slowly ease it down the embankment until I got close enough to hook a chain to the vehicle and then slowly back up the steep incline to pull the car up the embankment. Now, since the tractor had no brakes, I would have to hug the steep embankment with one to the large tractor tires to either slow it down or stop it by wedging the wheel against the dirt embankment. Once we had the chain attached, I would then put the monster in reverse to drag the car back up the bank to level ground.
This was the same tractor that the owner set me to plowing up about 50 acres of bottom land adjacent to this same deep canyon. My first problem was in refueling the tractor. He left me with a 55-gallon barrel of fuel. When I needed to refill the tractor, I had to wrestle the barrel and get a 5-gallon bucket in the right position to capture the gasoline. It wasn’t easy. Once I spilled a lot of gasoline on my Levi’s and it blistered my leg where the gas had come into contact with my skin. This tractor had a total turning radius that was only a few degrees, which was different than most of the tractors I was accustomed to driving. Once, I was plowing along and had both legs stuck up under the throttle bar and steering column.
I have to admit I was half put to sleep by the sound of the engine and the slow motion of the 10-foot disc that it was pulling. I looked ahead and realized the tractor was getting rather close to the canyon bank, which was at least 30 feet or more to bottom. I then began to try to extract my legs and discovered that my new Levi’s where hung, and I wasn’t able to easily extract them. I had to get one leg out to push in the clutch which was the only way to stop this machine from running right off the edge of this canyon. I had on brand new Levi’s, and in those days, one bought their Levi’s at least 2 inches larger and longer because they would shrink up that much in the first wash. Well, the cuff on the pants was what had hung and keeping me from easily extracting my leg to push in the clutch which was inconveniently on the opposite side of the steering wheel.
I began to feel a real sense of panic and began to jerk harder to get my legs free. I finally made the move and stopped the tractor but only about 5 or 6 feet from the edge! It was a close call, and one that I never told the owner of the farm, or my parents about my close call!
Had I not been able to have done this, the 10 double discs would have made it possible for there to have been several different funerals for all the pieces of me that others would have found at the bottom of the canyon.
Less dangerous, but more painful was an incident with the first mobile hay bailer I was allowed to work on. It had a large fly wheel on the left side and was pulled by a tractor. I had the job of a seat attached to the bailer on this side so I could punch wires through and my cousin, Duane would tie them on the other side of each bale of hay. Well, when you stopped, you also shut down the bailer. When we started up again, the fly wheel had to be given a spin, and the procedure was very exact. You were to put your right hand safely out of the way and grip the edge of the fly wheel with your left hand to spin it, starting the bailer in motion.
We had stopped and a break and a drink of ice water. My father had stopped by and was
visiting with us and when we got ready to go, I forgot and instead of following the correct protocol, I forgot to place my right hand in the safe location but spun the fly wheel with it. Well, there really wasn’t room for your right hand between the fly wheel and the frame of the bailer, which skinned it up. I didn’t say a word, even though I had severely skinned my knuckles, but managed to pull my hand free, take my seat and we moved on out. Later, I had time to look at my hand to see just how much damage was there. It wasn’t too bad but was sore for a few days.
The owner, who was driving the tractor noticed that what I had done and came back to see how badly I was injured, but we were both relieved it wasn’t serious. I did learn to follow the correct procedure from then on.
What I eventually learned, and most folks have to learn and respect farm machinery, it does not care, one way or another what you do, if you make a mistake you will pay for it, wither just with skinned knuckles or with your life,
Now, on the cowboy side, I had some interesting events. One of my primary job was to keep an eye on all the cows that were expecting to deliver calves. In those years, there was the danger of screw worm infestation because there was not state wide eradication of this population and when a baby calf was born it would likely get its navel infected by blow flies laying eggs in and around its umbilical cord. If left untreated, the maggots would invade the calf’s stomach and death would result.
I kept a close eye on all the cows and when a mother cow was ready to give birth, she often would leave the herd and hide out in the woods nearby. I would be mounted and rode around watching and keeping track of any pregnant cow’s absence. When one was missing I would search for her and her calf. I then would rope the calf; hog tie its legs so I could treat its naval. I would be carrying all the medicine needed to both kill the worm infestation and then some black stinking medicine to put on the wound and keep fly from reinfecting the calf.
The biggest problem was often the mother and calf would try to run and escape my attention. One time when I finally spotted the two, they took off running, and we are running behind dodging trees and such. Well, my horse hit a strand of barbed wire that had grown into two trees. It had been mostly removed except for this last bottom strand and it tripped my horse. I had always been taught to keep my boot toes in the stirrups not to ever have my foot all the way in. This way, I could kick out and not fall with the horse, which can be fatal. I did kick out and went flying over the horse’s neck and was running as fast I possibly could to keep from falling. I then came back and checked my horse’s legs to make certain it had not been cut by the wire.
I had never come closer to taking a spill as this time chasing a mother and her calf!
Sometimes, you would find a mother cow, if it were her first calf, would need help in delivery. But just as soon as the calf was born, the mother would want to fight you. So, it required her being tied to a tree if one was handy, just in case. YIPPEEOOKAYAA , Just Saying…RJS
Lessons Taught by Animals and Machinery!
Most of us have had to deal with life as we found it, particularly as a kid and as a teenager, we didn’t have much choice. Well, at least I didn’t. Since the only jobs in my community were farm or ranch jobs, that is how I earned my ‘spurs’ in a manner of speaking.
Early on, it was bailing hay with an early iteration of a gasoline engine powered stationary hay bailer. It required two men to punch and tie the wires on each bale, then about 6 men to feed the intake with loose cut hay, and finally a man and team of horses to run a buck rake to collect and bring the hay to the bailer. Yes, it was primitive and loud and dirty, but it paid all of a penny a bale! Often we did not earn enough to pay for the gasoline needed to get to the job site!
When was this, circa 1949 to 1952? Along the way, the equipment got more sophisticated, and I was given the job of driving a John Deere tractor pulling an automatic John Deere hay bailer. I was selected for this job because I knew how to fix, or repair the wire tying apparatus when it got confused or broken. We would take a week to bail a single pasture of 1,000 acres of native prairie grass. There was an adjoining plot of 600 acres.
Before this experience, I worked for a family doing almost any chore they needed done. They had a large ranch with a very deep canyon near their house. For some reason there was a short cut that included fording the creek at the bottom of this canyon. They had cut a deep path down through the side of this canyon so cars and other vehicles could cross, saving them having to drive 5 of 6 miles out of the way to get the same destination. Often a car would either get stuck in the sandy bottom of this creek, or not be able to climb the steep incline of the road cut into the creek bank. I was taught how to take this large tractor that did not have any brakes to slowly ease it down the embankment until I got close enough to hook a chain to the vehicle and then slowly back up the steep incline to pull the car up the embankment. Now, since the tractor had no brakes, I would have to hug the steep embankment with one to the large tractor tires to either slow it down or stop it by wedging the wheel against the dirt embankment. Once we had the chain attached, I would then put the monster in reverse to drag the car back up the bank to level ground.
This was the same tractor that the owner set me to plowing up about 50 acres of bottom land adjacent to this same deep canyon. My first problem was in refueling the tractor. He left me with a 55-gallon barrel of fuel. When I needed to refill the tractor, I had to wrestle the barrel and get a 5-gallon bucket in the right position to capture the gasoline. It wasn’t easy. Once I spilled a lot of gasoline on my Levi’s and it blistered my leg where the gas had come into contact with my skin. This tractor had a total turning radius that was only a few degrees, which was different than most of the tractors I was accustomed to driving. Once, I was plowing along and had both legs stuck up under the throttle bar and steering column.
I have to admit I was half put to sleep by the sound of the engine and the slow motion of the 10-foot disc that it was pulling. I looked ahead and realized the tractor was getting rather close to the canyon bank, which was at least 30 feet or more to bottom. I then began to try to extract my legs and discovered that my new Levi’s where hung, and I wasn’t able to easily extract them. I had to get one leg out to push in the clutch which was the only way to stop this machine from running right off the edge of this canyon. I had on brand new Levi’s, and in those days, one bought their Levi’s at least 2 inches larger and longer because they would shrink up that much in the first wash. Well, the cuff on the pants was what had hung and keeping me from easily extracting my leg to push in the clutch which was inconveniently on the opposite side of the steering wheel.
I began to feel a real sense of panic and began to jerk harder to get my legs free. I finally made the move and stopped the tractor but only about 5 or 6 feet from the edge! It was a close call, and one that I never told the owner of the farm, or my parents about my close call!
Had I not been able to have done this, the 10 double discs would have made it possible for there to have been several different funerals for all the pieces of me that others would have found at the bottom of the canyon.
Less dangerous, but more painful was an incident with the first mobile hay bailer I was allowed to work on. It had a large fly wheel on the left side and was pulled by a tractor. I had the job of a seat attached to the bailer on this side so I could punch wires through and my cousin, Duane would tie them on the other side of each bale of hay. Well, when you stopped, you also shut down the bailer. When we started up again, the fly wheel had to be given a spin, and the procedure was very exact. You were to put your right hand safely out of the way and grip the edge of the fly wheel with your left hand to spin it, starting the bailer in motion.
We had stopped and a break and a drink of ice water. My father had stopped by and was
visiting with us and when we got ready to go, I forgot and instead of following the correct protocol, I forgot to place my right hand in the safe location but spun the fly wheel with it. Well, there really wasn’t room for your right hand between the fly wheel and the frame of the bailer, which skinned it up. I didn’t say a word, even though I had severely skinned my knuckles, but managed to pull my hand free, take my seat and we moved on out. Later, I had time to look at my hand to see just how much damage was there. It wasn’t too bad but was sore for a few days.
The owner, who was driving the tractor noticed that what I had done and came back to see how badly I was injured, but we were both relieved it wasn’t serious. I did learn to follow the correct procedure from then on.
What I eventually learned, and most folks have to learn and respect farm machinery, it does not care, one way or another what you do, if you make a mistake you will pay for it, wither just with skinned knuckles or with your life,
Now, on the cowboy side, I had some interesting events. One of my primary job was to keep an eye on all the cows that were expecting to deliver calves.
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