BALER SELF DESTRUCT
As I was raking hay yesterday, some “making hay
baler stories” came to mind. This account came to me while on the tractor. I
have a theory that most farmers are deep thinkers and philosophers because
sitting on a tractor and going around and around a field all day gives one time
to meditate on various and sundry things in life. I have always said that, “You
put the tractor in gear and your mind in neutral”. This results in your
mind being reasonably clear to allow the profound thoughts to roll out of the
gray matter. Since I have stopped taking all the “anti looney” medications for
the time being anyway, my mind has cleared somewhat to more rational thoughts
(most people that know me would argue this point). When we were kids we had an old New Holland baler with a
“Wisconsin Air Cooled Engine” with 4 cylinders! I searched in vain with “Google”
trying to find a picture of this particular model! You had to start it with a
crank (just like a model T). I suppose they had models with a starter, but I
never saw one. When Uncle Ned would send me out to start the engine, I would be
very nervous because I had heard many stories about people getting their wrists
broken when the crank stuck to the shaft! You had to crank it until it started
(hopefully) and then pull it out quickly! It’s a miracle with my life-long
“klutzy accident prone demeanor” that I never had the crank stick and breaking my
wrist. I’ve been relieved and thankful that balers these days run on the power
take off on the tractor with no massive 4-cylinder engines with a crank start!
One summer day the baler was sitting out in the driveway and I was “messing
around” with the knotter linkage just for something to do, I guess, and the
fact that it was “there”. Shortly Uncle Ned came out and started the baler
(better him than me this time). At this time I wish I could have found a
picture of this baler since it will make a clear what ensued next! In lieu of a
pic, at this point I would invite your attention to Figure 1 below.
There is a plunger (which we called the “Grasshopper” that pushes loose hay
against the hay in the chute, which compresses and thus “bales” the hay. (Yeah, I know hay isn’t purple, but I didn’t
have a green marker. And among my many gifts, drawing has never been among
them) In Figure 2, as the plunger pushes the loose hay into a bale, the
“grasshopper is in the up position. Wellll, as soon as Uncle Ned started the
baler to check it, the “grasshopper” got out of sync and plunged into the
chamber just as the plunger was going forward. The result, of course, was that
the wooden “grasshopper” with metal teeth totally disintegrated in 1000’s of
splinters! Uncle Ned was really mad at me for causing all this by “messing
around with the knotter linkage. I, of course, being a very sensitive kid and
adult, felt terrible and was very upset with myself. Interestingly enough,
after he checked it for a few minutes, he apologized to me and said that I
didn’t cause the damage that it was something he did while working on it! The
fact that a “grown up” actually apologized to me a kid has always stuck with me
in my mind! That may be one reason why when my kids were younger and I was
still at home that when I was in the wrong, I always admitted it and apologized
to them. You never know what kind of life-changing things can happen as a
kid!!! Every hay baling season, Tim reminds me of this story and we get a kick
out of it. When I was a kid I used to look forward all year to baling hay. That
event was only 2nd to Christmas. Now that I’m older, I dread making
hay! It has now fallen somewhere between root canals and driving on my “Dreaded
Things Scale”. Oh well, in the vast position of unpleasant things, I can handle
it just fine in light of retirement which makes everything not so bad!
