Farming by Trevor Haskins

This piece tied for third in our annual Farming prompt contest. The judging was done by students, farmers and teachers.
Hay Fever
Tanner Haskins
Rochester High School, Grade 10

I have lived next to a farm all my life. It has long-since ceased to be a real productive farm aimed at producing crops and taking care of animals, but a few old traditions have held on. There was, until recently, three horses. Now two have been sold and only one lonely horse, Jake, remains. A couple of years ago, the neighbors (owners of the farm) decided that it was time to put me to work haying. I was hesitant at first, this because of having heard stories about the intensive labor that this requires and not being the most motivated of people. Quite to my surprise, I have come to love summer and all of the haying that it entails.

The first thing I love is the rush. Not that there’s any sort of high from snorting hay dust all day. Instead of this, I mean the random suddenness of it all. Haying is very dependent on the weather. You never know when the hay is going to be perfect for baling. Because of this, one minute I could be sitting around reading a good book, and the next the phone will ring, and in five minutes I’ll be standing on the wagon behind the baler. There are no kicker hay-balers here. All of the equipment we use is not new, but still in like-new condition. The Farmall-C (tractor) is at least fifty years old, having been bought in the late forties. The baler is not much newer. Yet everything works perfectly well for the purpose it is intended for. I like the hot days where I get to stand alone on the wagon, which is hitched behind the baler which, in turn, is being towed by the tractor. The regular turning over of the baler’s engine forces what I call the “hay masher” to push hard, and then retreat, crushing the hay into compact bales. It is heavy enough that the inertia causes the whole assembly of wagon, baler and tractor to sway forward and back rhythmically making it a challenge to stay upright, and also making it necessary to stand sideways as opposed to facing forwards. It makes me wonder if anyone ever got seasick from the swaying. The same challenge occurs when the tractor starts the train moving.

Because the Farmall-C is from the late forties, it never had a great acceleration system. In order to start, one just releases the foot clutch, which if done in a hurried fashion, will cause the tractor to accelerate very suddenly. This will cause inexperienced persons to be thrown greatly off balance.

When we get back from the fields, a new wave of sound reaches my ears. First there’s the hay elevator, clanking steadily along delivering the bales to me up in the hay loft. Next there’s the clink of the chain back down into it’s track as it tries to follow the bale up into the air. After that comes my favorite part, throwing the bales. I have to do this as the stacks of hay get higher and higher, or if we’re starting piles farther away from the elevator, I must slide the bales down a slippery chute that we set up.

At the end of a hot day, it feels great to go swimming in the white river to cool off. All of this is great, but it helps that I get paid too. There are very few things that I don’t like about haying, the first is the black “snot” that seems to infest your nose for days after the actual haying because of the dust. And the other is the uncomfortable stabbing sensation I get in my thighs whenever I put on my Carharts. This is due to tiny bits of hay stuck in the pockets that won’t come out in the wash, even if the pockets are turned inside out. Whenever I wear those pants and get the little feeling of amateur acupuncture on the upper sides of my thighs, I am always transported back to the hay fields and the lazy days of summer.