Starting at about
age 10 Daddy taught me to drive the old farm truck while he threw hay off of
the truck bed to our hungry bawling cows. The truck was put in “compound” or 1st
gear with the clutch engaged, then slowing letting out the clutch and steering,
the truck would creep around the pasture while he threw off the hay. Easy, you
might think. At the time I was approaching a height of 4'10", my legs barely
reached the 3 pedals, gas, brake and clutch. Scooted way up on the edge of the
seat almost able to see over the steering wheel I was ready. Daddy now on the
truck bed, pitchfork in hand, gave me the signal. I let out the clutch but forgot
to give it any gas and killed the engine. I tried again but with my short legs
it took a few tries before we were finally off to a jerky start bumping over
the ruts and old cow pies, Daddy still keeping his balance, he in control of
the pitchfork, I circled the pasture until all the hay was gone. Whew, I
promptly pushed in the clutch, turned off the key and scooted over to the
passenger side and let him drive us back to the barn.
No comments:
Post a Comment