Hay.. Work with what you’ve got

I just shook my head. Hmmmm I didn’t know how is this going to go? There she was,lathered in suntan oil, tank top and shorts, with her legs propped up on the nose of the tractor as she pulled forward for me to load.

It was haying season 1982, I was home from college for the summer and working on the ranch as were the other of my 3 sisters. My youngest sister, Sarah, was in high school and was already the queen of getting the most out of any situation, and working in the hayfield was no exception.

On this particular day Sarah was driving the retrieving wagon. The way it worked was the wagon had conveyor chains that moved the load forward. Soooo in theory, I’d load a bale (4’x 4’ x 8’) on the bottom, and then stacked one on top, and Sarah would then move the load forward so I could load two more etc, until the wagon was full. Then, she’d take the load to the stackyard where my dad would unload the bales in the reverse manner with his loader. This process took some coordination between drivers in both locations and the more fluid the coordination the more quickly the field could be cleared of bales. I should note that the retrieving wagon was pulled with a tractor, no cab, just open air, and the elements - perfect for sunbathing.

This year we were putting up (harvesting) large rectangular bales 4’ x 4’ x’ 8’s. I was running the loader in the field and gathered groups of large bales together to make loading Sarah’s wagon more efficient. Here she came with an empty wagon, smiling, waving, and slowing down as she geared down and placed her legs in full sun view on the nose of the tractor. I supposed this meant she was ready for me to load so I came from behind and loaded one bale….. nicely done! Then I placed a second bale on top of the first, and nothing happened.

My sunbathing wagon driver had forgotten to move the bales/load forward. “Hey Sarah,” I shouted, banged my tractor fenders, but it was useless and over the noise of both tractors she couldn’t hear me. During my efforts to get her attention Sarah kept driving forward away from my pile of bales. For me this was not only irritating but slowing everything down.

Grrrrrrrr…. I popped the tractor into second gear and sped out and around the retrieving wagon and tractor so Sarah could see me. Making a circular motion with my hand, I raised my eyebrows and rolled my eyes. Like “Hello can you move the load forward?” In typical Sarah fashion, she laughed shrugged her shoulders as if to say silly me and engaged the chains and the load started to move forward. Okay we were moving again. I turned my loader around to load another bale only to realize that when I approached the wagon that the first two bales were halfway up the wagon - and still moving. My sweet sunbathing sister had forgotten to disengage the chains and now the stacked hay bales were moving dangerously close to toppling forward on her.

I dropped my bale, grabbed third gear, and once again sped out and around Sarah’s wagon into the open field. She saw me and smiled, completely unaware of any danger, and waved. I turned and pointed to the bales approaching behind her and she gave me a thumbs up without looking. I gestured again, then finally she looked back and with terror in her eyes she had the presence to kill the engine and jump off as both bales toppled forward onto the nose of the wagon and the seat of the tractor.

There was a moment of deafening silence, one so quiet you could hear your breath whistle through your nose. Then came a flood of profanity spewing from the stack yard. Dad wasn’t pleased, or was he just worried? We will never know, but that tone of his voice made us scramble. We looked at each other both a little panicked, Sarah said “oh shit!” We laughed, clutched and hugged each other in relief and decided to take our time getting the bales off the nose of the wagon and reloading as neither of us wanted to face the wrath of Dad or do any explaining. I sort of blurred out the rest of that day, so I can’t really say for sure how it unfolded in regard to repercussions from Dad.

What I do know, however, is that we got the hay put up that summer, and Sarah continued to drive the retrieving wagon. Hay didn’t topple down on her ever again, she kept her sense of humor AND she came through the summer with a fantastic tan. As for me…. well I think that was the year I got my first gray hair.

My dad had his challenges making hay, and ranching for that matter, with 4 teenage daughters, but “hay” you work with what you’ve got.