Joe's 2004 Hartford Fair Diary

Well, the 2004 Hartford Fair has come and gone.  Oh, how we look forward to it every year.  Seeing old friends and getting to spend a full week at the Fair messing with what we love is very special.  Instead of just posting a bunch of pictures, I decided to write up our activities in diary fashion--I think its more interesting this way.

Two weeks or so before the Fair was spent washing, cleaning and polishing the herd.  Also, nagging mechanical problems were attended to.  One in particular was to rid the 460 of the god-forsaken steering wheel that Dad had installed some years ago with the genuine article capped-off with a spankin' new 'POWER STEERING' center badge.  This made the 460 look right smart to boot.  For 2004, we decided to take Bill's Super M and 400, Mike's F-30 and F-20, the Cub, 460, Fred's H, and my W-9.  The Regular was left home--Mike never had time to get it fixed after it blew its cookies at last year's Fair.

Saturday--Haul In Day.  I always look forward to this day.  It kicks off a great week of the Fair, and we all get to work together for one goal, and that is getting our stuff to the Fair.  Unfortunately I was not able to help out with the loading and hauling.  Daughter Andi belongs to a dog 4-H club and shows her two dogs in various shows in the summer, of course, one of them being the Hartford Fair.  Traditionally the Dog Show is held on Monday of Fair Week.  For some reason the Show was bumped to Saturday--the day before the Fair officially starts, so my time was spent getting Andi, the dogs and doggy equipment to the Fair on Saturday as well as watching Andi show.  She did quite well (as usual) I might add.  I did stay in two-way communicato with Mike during the show with intentions of helping off-load our fleet when it arrived at the Fairgrounds.  Actually, I wanted to be the one who got to wheel the W-9 into place.  It's a simple case of ' hey, look at me!  With the aid of the semi-tractor and trailer from my place of employment and with Fred providing his skills behind the wheel, two trips were made to deliver the goods.  Bill made supplemental trips using Freds 1-ton dually and our tag trailer to haul the lighter pieces like the F-20 and Cub.  All were tucked away at the Antique Tractor Display by 3 PM.  We got our traditional parking spot in the display.  Chuck Wilson, Club member and Fair commandant, made certain of that.  Due to past bad experiences and convinced that his tractor hated him,

That's a sharp lookin' load of RED IRON, yessiree!

Bill was leery about 'things happening' to the 400.  Sure enough, the 400 stranded him high and dry when it came time to unload it.  Another case of that strange mechanical disease known as Hartford Fair-itis?  Perhaps.  It wasn't Linda Blair's pea soup in the movie The Exorcist, but the 400 did wretch black fluid all over itself just before Beelzebub took flight from within the 400's soul.  We think the curse is over.  For more details on this and about how much Bill's 400 hates him, check out the Farmall 400 Page.

Sunday-Fair Kick Off Day During Saturday's haul-in, I noticed that an acquaintance, Bob Waller, was off-loading his home-built tractor pull transfer sled.  Wanting to try my hand at a genuine transfer sled, I spent the entire day at the pulling track with unexpected great results.  See Beginner's Luck for the all the poop.  Andi didn't come to the Fair with me this day.  Her dog show duties were done for the year and for the rest of the Fair she would be a spectator.  Her sheep barn buddies were thin in the ranks that day anyway.  Some had duties at the Ohio State Fair so she would've been bored to tears with no one to hang around.  I had

Our line up at the Fair for 2004. The Cub is safely flanked by its big brothers.

talked Bill into entering the tractor pull, but gauging how long things were dragging out there, he opted out of the pull.  Bill had official duties to take care of at the Soil Conservation tent at 4 PM.  He really didn't want to stress the newly rebuilt 400's motor in a tractor pull before it was broken in.  Mike was of the very learned opinion that the best thing for the 400 break in was to get it belted to the Baker Test Fan, load the 400 moderately and get the temperature up in the block.  Bill had the 400 on the Fan that afternoon for a couple of hours.  You could see (I'm told) the blow-by coming from the crankcase vent tube slowly dry up during the Fan trial.

Monday  This was an unusual day for me.  Fair Mondays are normally reserved for the Dog Show, and the last four years were spent this way.  Having Monday free to do the Tractor Club thing was a neat treat.  It was rather uneventful.  Mike and I, plus other Club members manned the Fair Golf Cart shuttles at regular intervals.  This is a responsibility of the Tractor Club.  Golf Cart duty can be boring at times, but it's the best way to see everything at the Fair.  It also provides multiple opportunities to chance upon old Fair buddies.  Me, being an Old Fart, have friends dating back to the mid-1960s.  Their kids (and grandkids!) are showing livestock now.

At right is the Baker Fan.

You've got to admire how this Fair works.  At times it seems like organized chaos especially around the livestock area during the shows, but things fall into place.  Viewing all of this from the golf cart seat gives you some appreciation of how much stuff the Fair Board has to deal with.  There are vendors, food tent operators, entertainment schedules and show schedules to deal with, and I would venture that each entity has its own set of pop-up issues to deal with.  Amazing.  The way this Fair has grown over the last 20 years, it would not surprise me at all if the Junior Fair becomes larger than the Ohio State Fair in the near future. 

Tuesday—Tractor Pull Day Fair Tuesday is always a special day. This is when the annual Ohio State Tractor Pullers (OSTPA) come to the Fair for their Mid-Season Champioship.  The OSTPA has voted the Hartford Fair as their favorite event likely due to the fact that the Fair has two tracks. This allows for continuous pulling action for the spectators, and the pullers get done with the Pull rather quickly.  The Club is very busy before and during the Pull as we provide towing services with our tractors—we get to show off our tractors in front of a lot of folks, and we get to be up close and personal with the pullers and their high-tech monsters of horsepower.

At left, Andi at the wheel of the 460 during the Parade.  She's gonna get a butt-chewing for riding that clutch pedal again!

This year’s Pull looked like it could turn out to be a bust for me.  Andi regularly qualifies one of her dogs for the Ohio State 4-H Dog Show in Columbus, and this year was no exception, but the show was scheduled on Pull Tuesday.  Rats!  A conflict.  Oh, well.  There will be other pulls and other days to be at the Hartford Fair.  But as luck would have it, we got done with the dog show program at the State Fair rather quickly.  The State Fair Dog Show is very efficient with their program.  The competition is brutal at the state level, and Andi did not place well in the obedience competition.  However, Andi did place second in the entire State of Ohio in the Skillathon 14-year old division. Way to go!

Since there was no reason to remain at the State Fair, Cara, Andi, and I busted for home so we could get back up to Hartford which we did by 3:30 with Andi heading out to terrorize the sheep barn.  Another Tractor Club duty at the Fair is running the large passenger shuttles in the parking lots.  We use our own tractors for this task with fuel provided by the Fair.  I felt obligated to do my shuttle duty that day, but the shuttle duty usually extends well past the time that we should be in the track infield for OSTPA work.  But I figured there would be a way to get past the traffic barricades no matter what time I got done with the shuttles.

I mounted up the 460 for shuttle duty.  That was the first time I got to run it at the Fair, and what a refreshing change of pace after being on the W-9 on Sunday.  With its smooth six-cylinder, light-feeling controls, and row-crop maneuverability, the contrast between operating the 460 and the W-9 is akin to the difference between a Toyota Camry and a dump truck.  That is no exaggeration!

At right, Mike on the F-30 is towing Gary Shannon's Reid Stationary Engine during the Parade.

Mike told me the 460 had been fueled up from the Fair gas tank, and I headed up to the north lot for work.  It was 5:30 and a shade early and not many fairgoers were coming in at that point, but I spied another shuttle tractor parked at the west end of the lot.  It was Andy Haldeman with his Super M.

Left: Dean and Sam on the F-20 during the Parade towing the Old Oak Farm Farmall trailer that Mike and Bill restored.  Jake is one of the kids in the trailer; I've got no idea who the others are!

Andy has an exquisitely infectious laugh, is a great guy and a real treat to talk to. He’s a rock-solid IH dude—if cut he bleeds red IH #2150.  Not all of Andy’s IH fleet is painted up nicely, but I’ll flat quarantee you they are ALL in superb running condition.  (His Super M is the baseline HP tractor I used to derive the Baker Fan HP figures).  Andy rags on John Deeres and some of their owners unmercifully and doesn’t take any guff from anyone.  I’ve never seen Andy start any trash talk, but he is more than willing to finish it if pushed.

Andy and I were catching up on things when he noticed another shuttle tractor, an elderly chap on a JD A trying to get into the north lot, but his passage was barricaded. Andy didn’t know who it was nor did I.

"Looks like he’s lost," Andy observed. "I’ll go over to show him the way in.  I’m not too sure if I want him in here with us."

"Why not?" I asked.  "This is Pull night, and we’re going to be swamped in a little bit.  We could use the third shuttle."

With a sarcastic grin Andy explained: "What he’ll do once he’s here is pull up where we’re parked and not shut that thing off. We’ll have to listen to that rattle-bang green thing run."

"How do you know he won’t shut it off?"

"Cuz you can’t get those green POS started again! I’m telling you that’s why God made hills--you can park John Deeres on ‘em so they’ll bump start in the morning!"

Andy was in good form tonight for sure!  He went on over to lend assistance while I laughed my head off.  Sure enough, the JD driver came over to where Andy and I were parked and did not shut his motor off!  Andy and I talked to the guy for a little bit over the banging and shaking emanating from the running A.  I think Andy’s prior comments about having to listen to the JD run shortened my tolerance level, so it wasn’t long before I told Andy that I could take no more of the noise and was going to start the shuttle rounds.  What a contrast between listening to the 460’s low note thrum and that old A!  Andy soon took up the shuttle work, but the fellow on the JD was still parked where we left him.  He did join up after a while, but I couldn’t help wonder if that guy DID shut the A off then couldn’t get it started.  I laughed at the thought that Andy may have been dead on with his entire prediction about the JD.  (I mean no offense to the gentleman that gave us a hand in the north lot that evening, but considering what Andy had forecast and what had come true is just too funny).

It was pretty hectic shuttle work for about 1-1/2 hours.  I was hoping like mad that the incoming traffic would thin out in good time for Andy and me to join up with the OSTPA work.  My hopes came true at 7 PM when the lot workers began directing traffic to the southern sections of the Fairgrounds where shuttles were not needed.  I stood up on the 460 and waved to Andy who was 300 yards away, pointed to my watch and then pointed toward the track.  Andy got the message loud and clear.  I saw smoke roll out of the Super M’s exhaust with Andy hi-bootin’ it for yonder.

What's right with this picture?  Bill is towing a Puller to the scales for the OSTPA event at the Fair.

My concerns about getting into the track infield were laid to rest when I spotted a gap between the two concrete barricades that closed off the south track entrance.  There was JUST enough room to squeeze the 460 and the Super M through.  This is working out pretty good I thought.  I was right. I nstead of waiting and waiting in the infield like a bunch of streetwalkers for the pullers to begin staging for weigh-in, I was quickly flagged down by a Super Stock puller sporting a MM G1000.  I always thought the G1000 Minnie-Mo was just one cool tractor.  Since I had just gotten there, I asked the G1000 guy where the scales were.  That was a stupid question.  I really knew where they were—anywhere but where they should be.

Mike and Bill were already in the infield.  Mike was on Bill’s Super M, and Bill was enjoying the use of his gorgeous 400.  Fred was not there.  I had toyed with the idea of using the W-9 for the Pull work, but there is no more congested and dangerous place to have a tractor than Pull night in the track infield.  There are incoming spectators that pay no heed to what’s around them let alone all the moving equipment at the same time.  I’m not sure if it’s the Fair’s doing or if the OSTPA does this, but the scales and staging area are always the penultimate cluster-folk.  No.  I might as well have had the use of an Abrams tank if I had used the W-9.  This is definitely a place for the 460.

After the weigh-in is done and the Pull commences, most of the Clubbers like to hi-tail it for the other end of the track to pull the tractors that have just completed their runs back to the infield.  I like to stay at the staging end.  You get to talk to the pullers one-on-one, and there is normally a lot of work to do there jogging and staging tractors for their turn at the sleds

At left, I am getting instructions from Chuck Wilson prior to the start of the Pull.  Chuck is 100% LOLATC, and he makes sure we get our due recognition by having a few of us assemble in front of the grandstand during the National Anthem,

The Pull went without any major details worth a paragraph or two here.  On Fair nights with large crowds, there is at least an hour’s wait to exit the grounds.  On this night we passed the waiting time at Fred’s camper shooting the bull.

Wednesday—Andi and I were in no hurry to get to the Fairgrounds that day.  There was not a lot going on.  Once we got to the Grounds, again Andi headed for the sheep barn to hang with her buds, and I stood duty on the golf cart shuttle for a few hours.

At right is Fred Graham's nicely finished M.  This tractor belonged to Dad, and we sold it to Fred shortly after Dad died.  The red/white placard on the channel frame reads "BIG RED BOB OLD OAK FARM.  That is a touching tribute to the Old Man.  Fred insisted he park the M with our line up.  Cool.

After I had my fill of the shuttle, I was relieved by Clubber, Fred Graham.  No sooner than I had gotten off the shuttle, I saw Dale Aberegg from Mt. Vernon (Aberdale_Farm) talking to Mike.  I had met Dale via the internet on the RED POWER forum and met him in person at the Utica show two months prior.  Dale was in the vicinity to pick up his Farmall M from Scion Farms which is located in Croton. Dale said Scion Farms wanted a tractor to use for a publicity shoot of some kind and had loaned his M for the job.  Some folks have great connections!  We visited awhile, but never missing an opportunity to show off, I decided that Dale needed to see how well the W-9 performed on the Baker Fan.  I wanted to get the 9 on the fan anyway.  I wanted to see just how strong it was.

Well, the old 9 didn’t disappoint.  Mike tached the Fan RPM and to date, that figure is the highest we have ever measured. Dale was impressed.  That’s all I’ll say about the W-9’s muscle; I may get blacklisted from the Classic Antique Divisions in the future!

Dale bade us farewell. Some of the guys wanted to go back to the antique track to mess around with the drag sled a little bit. That’s all I needed to hear.  I had myself and the Big Tub back there in a hurry.  Fred was there with his H, Mike brought the F-20, Norm Gwinn was with his JD A, Fred Graham had his JD A, and Lee Pletcher (Club Master of Ceremonies for Fair Week) was also there with a JD A and an unstyled JD A.

The drag sled is simply a large piece of plate with a chain attached to both ends.  Weight is put on the sled, usually in the form of a tractor (or two), and the pull tractor heads down the track with this load.  Sometimes as the sled moves down the track, bystanders will step onto the moving sled—sort of a very crude form of the weight transfer theory.  The first tractor pulls I saw as a kid were simple drag sleds.

Itching to have a go at the sled, I finally got my turn.

"How much do you want on there, Joe?" Fred Graham asked.

I just couldn’t help myself at that point.  Full of it from how well the W-9 was performing, I cockily replied, "Give me all you’ve got!"

Norm put his A on the sled, and Lee put his un-styled A on, too.  All the guys piled on except for Fred and away we went.  The W-9 motored on down the track with that big load with a "full pull".  I was chuckling to myself during the run as I had a little tidbit of information that I was keeping from Mike until the pull was done.

"Hey, Mike. That was second gear."

Mike raised his eyebrows and asked, "WHAT?"

"I used second gear!" Mike began laughing as did I. This tractor is a nothing but an ego inflator.

We staged the sled again and put a styled A on board in place of the un-styled A This was about 500# more than the first pull had. This proved too much for the W-9—it simply spun out and couldn’t get the load moving.  Mike made a comment about finally stopping the W-9.  I really wanted to give it another shot, but Andi had cheerleading practice so we had to leave the Fair.

I had no intention of returning to the Fair for the evening, but Andi really wanted to see her friend, Patty Devlin, participate in the big Sheep Show. So after her practice we both returned. Wednesday evening is the Demolition Derby and usually draws a large crowd.  I did not relish the thought of contending with the traffic, but we really had no problem getting in.  Andi took off for the sheep barn, and I headed for the tractor tent.  It was only 8 PM, but the area was deserted.  Checking out the 460 revealed a yet very warm engine.  Apparently someone used it for shuttle duty and had just finished up.  I later learned Fred used it that evening.  I admonished him on the following day not to get too used to running the 460--it'll spoil him.  I spent the rest of the evening yacking with George and Deb Pound and Brad Fraley.  Andi and I got out of the Grounds late and didn't make it home until 12:15 AM.

Thursday—Nothing special happened. We all did our time on the golf cart shuttle as usual. Mike had decided earlier in the week to do the threshing demonstration that day. The Oliver Red River Special thresher we use belongs to Brad.  It’s a fine old piece and does a nice job.  Brad and John Shannon plant a crop of wheat nearly every year for use in the thresher.  Brad harvests the wheat with an old fashioned reaper so that provides us with tied bundles of wheat.

We had a little trouble in setting up the thresher.  Brad had to work his regular job that afternoon, so Mike had to noodle-out how all the flat belts went on the machine.  Fortunately John is fairly familiar with the arrangement and helped get things sorted out.

I suggested to Mike that he use the F-20 to run the thresher.  The F-20 is a nice match for the thresher’s size and is of roughly the same vintage.  Joe Simpson and I forked the wheat bundles onto the conveyor with the F-20 humming along nicely.  Before long, we had a gaggle of onlookers.  You can always bet there will be several old timers in the crowd explaining and gesturing to younger onlookers about how the thresher works.  I get a real kick out of that.  We ran half the wheat through the thresher saving the remainder for another threshing session on Friday.  We would bale all of the straw on Friday, too.

We went back to Fred’s trailer for the nightly grilling.  There was no urgency to hurry through this.  Mike had trouble with the grill, and we didn’t get finished eating until fairly late.  I was concerned about manning the big shuttles, but Mike reminded me that other Club members were around and they will handle it.  My concern about the shuttles turned out to be true.  When we got back to the Club tent there sat all the shuttles in the parking area.  At that time it was of little use to head to the lot with them.  Mike was not pleased that no one took the initiative to do the shuttle work.

There was a motocross race that evening in the infield.  I spent some time in there trying to look up some old racing acquaintances.  Yes, I used to do this a long time ago.  I saw only one guy I knew but didn’t have the chance to speak with him.  After a while there, I got bored, rounded Andi up and headed for home.

Friday--Rough Truck  Friday may well be my favorite day of the Fair for that is the day of the Rough Truck Contest. We also have the annual gut-buster breakfast at the Pioneer Restaraunt in Utica.  I usually pick up the tab for the breakfast.  It's just a nice get-together.

Once we got the the Fairgrounds,  Andi did her usual gig, and I made sure I logged plenty of early golf cart shuttle time so that most of the afternoon would be free.  I wanted to help with the rest of the threshing plus help run the bale press.  I also didn't want a guilt trip on my brain for not making myself available for the big shuttles during Rough Trucks.  Bill was on hand that day, too.  I strongly suggested he log in some shuttle time for the same reasons mentioned above.

Around 6:30, it was time to assume my annual parking slot on the race track for the Rough Trucks.  For those of you not familiar with this event, the track used for the previous evening's motocross event serves as the course (with some modifications.)  Entrants run vehicles in various states of repair--most are what I term "beaters".  The majority of the vehicles used here are, indeed, trucks, but there are quite a few cars entered, too.  Simple rules: fastest one around the course wins.  The track is just brutal.  I would say 10 to 15% of the vehicles either do not make it around the track, lose parts, or both.  Rough Truck is like a mix of off road racing and a demolition derby.  This event seems tailored for the demographics of Licking County, Ohio.  You can be the judge of what that means.  The Club's job is to clear the track of any dead vehicles which we do with gusto.  The Rough Truck Contest has been the Fair's biggest crowd draw in recent years, so all eyes are on us when we need to retrieve a dead vehicle. We typically stage 4 tractors at each end of the course.

I had decided during the week to use the W-9 for this evening's hook work.  As you have surmised by now, the W-9's status in my eyes grew immensly during the week.  I really didn't care if I got any hooks--I just wanted to be seen on the W-9.  I kinda figured it would be somewhat of a crowd pleaser because it's a little unusual, big, and delivers a nice sound from its straight stack.  Although it's a bear to jockey around, Rough Truck hook work is not nearly as critical with respect to the precision required for the OSTPA Tractor Pull.

My group (usually 100% IH of course) normally mans the north end, and I was sooned joined by Bill with his 400, and by Charlie Bolen on his Super C.  It looked like there were already two tractors at the south end.  I couldn't make out who was down there, but for sure it looked 100% IH down there, too.  Cool!  Mike didn't  work any hooks that night.  He was with his family in the stands.  As start time drew nearer, it appeared there were no more tractors coming to help out.  We would be very understaffed with only five tractors.  This was weird--normally the Clubbers fight each other for Rough Truck duties.  Odder still was the absence of Andy Haldeman.  He always is with us at the north end.  Mike saw the problem from the stands and recruited some extra help to make the count seven pull-off tractors.   One of the recruits was Dixie Cayton.  His lone John Deere prevented us from having a pure 100% IH crew.  Andy finally joined up after the first 30 minutes of the Contest.  He had been working the north lot shuttles, and his arrival put us at the required 8 tractors.

Normally the north end hook work is not as busy as the south end is.  But this year's course featured a much higher jump hill; I suspected a lot of 'deaths' would occur on this jump.  I was not wrong.  In fact, the very first truck to make a run broke here, and Bill was the first hooker to get some work.   I must say Bill's 400 looked right sharp under the lights.  Our sister Nancy was in the stands with her family, and she overheard a number of comments from spectators about how good Bill's 400 looked.

At right is Bill on his immaculate 400.  He is finally reaping the rewards of 11 months of heartache, headaches, and $$$ in getting this tractor rebuilt and restored.  Bill experienced no mechanical problems with the 400 during Fair Week, so we now think the tractor no longer hates him.

The next vehicle that broke in our area (almost broke in two actually) was what we live for:  a totally immobile vehicle with a trashed running gear--wheels are unable to turn.  Dragging this type of heap from the track is a crowd pleaser because simple brute force is the only way to get 'em off.  I was salivating at getting the 9 hooked to this heap and leaving a two foot deep furrow in the dirt with the 9 bellowing merrily away.  But before I could get the Old Gal fired, some jake leg on a skid steer loader shinnied out there and retrieved the casualty.  What the hell?  Who was that?  Man, I was hot!  The Club gets paid for this work (we use the money to support the Junior Fair Livestock Sale), and this dude was scabbing on us.  I was determined that this would not happen again!

I no more than got cooled off about the skid steer loader, when another dead one needed a hook.  It was still my turn in the rotation, and I hurried out onto the course to get him.  The contestant was buried in the muddy whoop-de-doos on the back portion of the course.  I backed the W-9 up to hook on with one of the course officials attaching my tow strap to the first thing he saw, a cardboard thin bumper.  The 9 managed to almost completely remove the bumper from this vehicle during the course of getting it up and out of the whoops.  When the bumper tore loose from one of its mounts, the crowd let out quite a cheer.  The bumper was held on by a small filligree of metal, but it was enough to allow me to tow this guy.  Once I got him up on flat, solid ground though, I think he tried to bump-start his vehicle.  The 9 finished off the remains of the bumper with more whoops emanating from the thousands of spectators.  I got the strapped hooked to another place on the frame, threw the loose bumper in the bed of that truck, and took him back to the pits.

Fred on his H during the Parade.  Our tractor habit would be hurting for sure if it weren't for Fred's selfless donation of time and skill in getting us and our toys hauled around.

Things were a bit different this year.  Andi was not with me on the track.  She usually relishes the front-row view of the Contest from the tractor’s seat and the look of importance by getting to hang out with the official event staffers—us.  But she’s 15 now with another agenda other than hanging out with Dad.  Someone told me during the day that Andi and some friends left the Fairgrounds, and all went to Joe Parrish’s house to wash and wax his truck for Saturday’s parade.  She didn’t clear this with me, but I was not too concerned as I knew who she was with.  Strangely, as I was thinking of this, Andi and her buds found me on the track.

"Hi, Dad."

"Where’ve you been?"

"Around.  We all went to Parrish’s house today to wax his truck.  He’s picky about his truck so it took us a long time," she said.

"I know." She had the look of I’m busted in her eyes.

"How’d you know that?"

"The Fairground has eyes."  And indeed it does.  I was never too concerned about turning her loose while at the Fair even when she was younger.  She was generally always in the livestock area.  Junior Fair parents and kids are just fine folks, and the parents always keep tabs on things.  There might not be direct supervision taking place (from me), but there is definitely supervision from responsible folks in place.  That’s one of the things that endears me to the Fair.  I can’t think of a finer environment to have a youngster in.

When I returned to my slot on the track after towing my first hook to the infield, there was another casualty on the course at the extreme south end. I saw that Dixie Cayton was already heading out to retrieve the dead vehicle. Just then, the dude running the skid steer loader headed out to do the same thing. Not this time, bud.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Where are you going?" I demanded.

"Just tryin’ to help out," he replied.

"Well, just park it. This is our work, and we’ve got it covered."

"How many guys you got here?" There was a surprised look on his face.

"There’re four of us on this end and the same number down there.  We’ll handle it."

I didn’t mean to be an a-hole about this; that’s not my style, but the Club has an obligation to do this, and we need to hold up our end of the deal.  Besides, I didn’t want anyone else hogging the glory.

Nancy and Dean's son, Peter, with the Cub Lo-boy.  He wants to graduate to the H next year, but it needs work.

Satisfied with myself with upholding the Club’s honor, another truck died in the whoops.  This vehicle was a real beater with the popular catch phrase of the year "GIT R DONE" emblazoned on its sides and tailgate with neon orange spray paint.  I tend to direct our group as to when a hook is required, and I’ll call out the guy’s name that’s next in the rotation.  Andy Haldeman's turn was next, but before I could sic him on the dead truck, Andy was already motoring out there with his Super M.  Watching Andy get hitched to the vehicle, it seemed it took a little longer than usual.  Also odd, was the rough way Andy jerked this guy out of the whoops- a "no mercy" sort of thing. When Andy returned, he hopped off his tractor and came up to me. He had his ornery smile look going on.  Something was up.

"You won’t believe that guy I just towed."  Uh, oh. Andy got sideways with that dude.  This oughta be good I was thinking.

"And?"

"I get over there, and this goof starts flapping his gums, 'hey, you think that RED tractor can get me outa here?'  I said 'this RED tractor will pull that dead POS you’re drivin’ clean in two.'  Then he says 'whatcha need, bud, is one of them ORANGE tractors for this job.'  For what? Dead weight!?  I jerked his ass outa that pit and put the hammer down.  What a d---!  I was tryin’ to break more stuff off that POS!"

"Well, I thought something was up," I said.

That was good for a laugh or two.  This illustrated how we tractor nuts defend our colors, too.  This particular Rough Truck contestant picked the wrong guy for trash talk.

This year was probably the best Rough Truck Contest I’ve worked.  We were very busy on our end of the course, and that made for a fun evening.  I had about six hooks with the W-9, and I was tired at the event’s end.  It takes all of my 40 years of tractor experience to operate that Hog smoothly and not look like a doofus in view of all the spectators.  Bill said I made it look easy.  I will cherish that compliment for a long time.

After the Rough Truck was over, I hooked up with Andi, and we passed the time waiting for the tremendous crowd to file out of the Fairgrounds at Fred’s camper.  Again we arrived home very late.

Saturday—Parade and Load Out The parade provides an opportunity for the kids in the family to operate a tractor.   The Fair Board, to my knowledge, has never been geeky about letting kids drive equipment in the parade.  This is refreshing in this day and age of licensing, operator proficiency, goofy insurance policies and litigation.  Nothing much can happen while on the track anyway—the parade speed in usually in first gear at low throttle. It sure does wonders for a kid's ego.  Heck, the oldsters get a kick out of it, too.

The parade went fine.  You can check the accompanying photos for who was on what tractor. A couple of weeks before the Fair, Mike and Bill got the idea to fix up an old trailer Dad got from a neighbor.  They stripped it down and painted it with a Farmall color scheme including decals. Mike also laid out a big block IH on the trailer bed and painted it.  He figured if there were any aerial photos taken of the Fair, they would get an eyeful of IH-ness.  The trailer was used in the Parade to tote the wee ones around with Dean doing the honors on the F-20.

I got a report from Fred on the day we moved in that my employer’s semi-tractor that we used had a gimpy clutch.  I informed the shop about the problem with hoped that repairs would be done by Fair’s end.  It was not done.  John Shannon and Brad graciously volunteered to lend a hand with their rigs to get our stuff back to port.  Bill used Fred’s Dodge and our tag for some other trips as well.

A pic of the wagon Bill and Mike dolled up for the Fair.  Mike laid out the block IH logo so if any overhead shots of the Fair were taken, the photographer was sure to get an eyeful.  The Farmall and International plates are the old ones from Bill's 400.

Loading out is a bummer.  It’s a curtain call for eight fun days of the Fair, but to tell you the truth, I was ready for it to end.  It’s what I call Faired-out.  It’s still sad to see the ranks of the tractor display line up thin out over the course of the final day.

Once our stuff was loaded up and ready to head out, I left the display area to find Andi that afternoon so we could go home. Time to put a wrap on this.  Andi gets pretty caught up in the Fair scene, and it’s tough for her to leave.  I found her at the sheep barn, and she surprised me by agreeing to leave right then and there provided I go with her to the midway so she could buy a belt buckle she saw.  I, of course, was needed as she didn’t have any money. I winced at this, but what the heck—she hadn’t given me any grief all week.

When got to the belt buckle vendor, she pointed out the one she wanted.  What the heck?  She wanted a real nice buckle with a large block IH logo on it—nicer than the one I have!  I didn’t know what to say…heck yes, I’ll buy it! She wanted to wear it immediately, but her style of belt wouldn’t accept the buckle style, so I got her a belt that would work.  I thought this was all pretty cool.  Andi has hi-falutin’ fashion tastes, but at Fair time she can be a redneck girl with the best of them.  The "GIT R DONE" hat she bought during the week is testimony to that.

We sadly left the Fairgrounds for the last time.  I hadn’t planned this, but I thought I should probably stop by Mike’s to see how the unloading was going.  What I really wanted to do was for Andi to show off her new IH buckle to Mike and Bill.

The annual post Parade group photo op.

When we got to Mike’s, everything was unloaded but scattered around the lot.  A number of vehicles were there, too.  Mike, Bill, Fred, Brad, and George and Deb Pound were in the shop and partaking of adult beverages.  Andi and I hung around a while, then Mike suggested having an impromptu ‘post unloading’ cook out.  What a great idea! I really wasn’t ready to call the Fair over—this was sort of another way to extend the week.  Andi and I ran home and talked Cara into coming over which she did.

We had a great time the rest of the evening and perhaps the best time of the entire week having family and good friends around.

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