A trip to the Thumb

Twenty hours on the road. Thirteen hundred miles. Four adults. One toddler. One minivan. Kind of sounds like a bad Mastercard commercial doesn’t it? Actually it was my weekend. Some called it vacation, but had they been on the trip they would have known better. It was more work than staying home.

Nate, Jacob and I, along with his best friend, Ryan, and his wife, Dana, roadtripped to the guys’ college roommate's wedding last weekend. Both were groomsmen so there was little choice about going. After college, Nate and Ryan moved home to farm, but Scott went to graduate school at Michigan State. That’s where he met Crystal, a native Michigander. They decided to get married in her hometown which is located in the thumb of Michigan.

So Friday morning at somewhere around 5 a.m., we loaded up a borrowed minivan and headed toward the UP. I’d never been this far north, so I was eager to see the mystic places like Escanaba and Mackinac Island. Once it was light out, it was kind of a pretty drive. Long, but pretty with all the leaves turning to their fall colors.

We were in a hurry on the way there since we had to be at rehearsal by 6 p.m. With the time change stealing an hour from us, it was a rush. Once in Saginaw, we made a quick pit stop at a mall so the boys could grab their tuxedos for the big day. Then it was to the hotel with 10 minutes to freshen up before it was back in the car for another 45 minutes to get to the church. The whole way there, we passed church after church, wondering why they couldn’t have gotten married there. We almost got lost thanks to a slightly vague map, but found an alternate route before we were hopelessly lost in Michigan.

After a quick rehearsal, it was back to the reception hall for a little food and conversation. Since the DJ was blaring the next night, it was nice to catch up with everyone in a quieter setting. The next day, Jake and I hit the pool while Nate got dressed and on his way for pictures. We left later with a second group. On the way from the ceremony, Dana and I lost the caravan at a red light and ended up in a not-so-nice neighborhood. Thanks to cell phones, Scott was able to bail us out. Twice.
When we finally got to the reception, us wives were a little ticked at our husbands, but it wore off as the night went on. A few fruity drinks also helped take the edge off.

Jacob seemed to have a great time chasing balloons and crawling under tables. He did get a little confused with all the guys dressed just like Dad. He tugged on the wrong set of legs more than once. The following morning it was back in the car, but this ride seemed shorter. We also had time to stop for a real, sit-down lunch. As it turned out, it was great timing for a roadtrip with gas prices falling. The low price of the trip? $2.09 in Saginaw. What a beautiful sight.

Wisconsin traditions

You know that saying, never too much of a good thing? That doesn’t really fly with softball and tractor pulls in central Wisconsin. If you’re a fan of either, you know you can find at least one tractor pull or softball tournament somewhere in a 100-mile radius every weekend from Memorial Day to Labor Day.

On some special occasions, like Dorchester Days, Colby Cheese Days and Curtiss Days, we get both all in the same weekend. Dorchester loves softball and tractor pulls so much they have two of each in June and August.

Since my husband is a fan of both, I got more than my share of the testosterone filled events this summer. Combined with work assignments, I think I’ve had all I can take for a while. Luckily, the last softball tournament was Labor Day weekend. I only went to one game, but that was plenty. I guess another wife shared my sentiments.

“I’m so sick of softball,” she said when the guys were on the field.

Me too.

Tractor pulls are another matter. Most of those were work assignments. Those were OK because I could get my photos, watch as long as I wanted, then head out. When I took Nate along, he wanted to watch about twice as long as I wanted to. Sometimes I’d patiently wait, but more often I’d make a run to the foodstand or take Jacob to the playground to get away. The playground trick also works at softball tournaments.

I may gripe now, but I can almost guarantee by Memorial Day, the cabin fever will have set in and I’ll be ready to make the softball and tractor pull circuit once more.

And now, a little comic relief for you joyless Packer fans...
On a tour of Texas, the Pope took a couple of days off to visit the coast for some sightseeing. He was cruising along the beach in the pope-mobile when there was a frantic commotion just off shore. A helpless man wearing a Minnesota Viking jersey was struggling frantically to free himself from the jaws of a 25-foot shark.

As the Pope watched, horrified, a speedboat came racing up with three men wearing Green Bay Packers jerseys. One quickly fired a harpoon into the shark’s side. The other two reached out and pulled the bleeding, semi-conscious Viking fan from the water, then, using long clubs, the three beat the shark to death and hauled it into the boat. Immediately the Pope shouted and summoned them to the beach.

“I give you my blessing for your brave actions,” he told them. “I heard there was bitter hatred between Vikings and Packers fans, but now I have seen with my own eyes that this is not true.” 

As the Pope drove off, the harpooner asked his buddies, “Who was that?” 

“It was the Pope,” one replied. “He is in direct contact with God and has access to all of God’s wisdom.”

“Well,” the harpooner said, “he may have access to God’s wisdom, but he doesn’t know anything about shark fishing. Is the bait holding up OK or do we need to get another one?”

Girls don't drive tractors....

If Friday night football, yellow and orange tinted leaves and a slower growing lawn wasn’t enough to tip you off, you should know by the cool weather that fall is upon us. This means a whole slew of harvesting on local farms. Farmers wrapped up the hay crop and a few are trying out the corn head on the chopper, I see. It won’t be too much longer and the soybeans will be buzzing through the combines, then the corn.

With all the field work to do on a farm, it’s surprising I never really learned how to drive a tractor very well. Actually, I’m a little scared of the whole idea. You see, where I grew up, driving a tractor can be dangerous work. I hated the steep side hills. We only had one flat field on the whole farm, so there weren’t too many good places to teach a girl to drive. It also didn’t help that our fleet consisted mainly of battered Farmalls. Steering and brakes could be iffy, not good for inexperienced operators.

I guess I remember the accidents at home more than the easy drives. Two really stick out in my mind. The first was when I was very little and my dad tipped a nearly full chopper box over on a side hill. Luckily, the tongue gave in and the tractor was left upright. In the second incident, my dad took a ride down a snowy hill and landed in a ditch when the hydraulics gave on a tractor in January. It was a bumpy ride, but he made the right decision not to try and jump. Just recently my brother took a ride down our sloped driveway on a wild tractor. He climbed a hill off to the side to stop before he went out into the road. Two wheels were in the air when he finally stopped, but no harm done.

So all these things flash through my mind whenever I get behind the wheel of a tractor. As I grip the wheel with blood rushing from my white hands, it almost gives me a panic attack. So I just avoided the whole thing until now. Nate is determined that I overcome my fear of tractor driving.

“You know, you could be doing this,” he said last week as I rode along with him cutting hay. And I probably could. It might take a little hypnotherapy, but I could do it.

I’m not a complete baby about farm equipment. I will drive the skidsteer, although I’m not very good at it. I don’t get a lot of practice. Last weekend, while all the other help was out of town, I helped Nate with chores. Saturday morning I insisted he let me load the corn silage into the TMR mixer. It took a while. The problem with that is there’s just too many things going on: hand controls, two foot pedals, etc. I have to think about every move I make. Right foot, lift the bucket...oops, must be left. Tilt the bucket down, move forward, a little turn to the right, bucket back up. Back out. Repeat.

After a few trips back and forth, I started to do two things at once. But it’s going to be a long time before I’m a very smooth operator. Luckily, Nate was pretty patient with me, considering he’s not generally a patient person. However, that night when it was time to load feed again, I let him do it. Then it would get done before dark.

A family of bus drivers...(9/6 column)

It’s back to school time once more. The dreaded September (formerly August when I was younger) has lost some of its meaning since I entered the working world. In my particular line of work, I do notice a few differences. It’s a lot more exciting to come to work when school’s in session. It’s a whole new page in the paper to enjoy (watch for a new look on the school page next week), concerts and sporting events.

But the impact of school on my daily schedule is a lot less dramatic than some of my relatives. My mother-in-law is a elementary teacher, so she’s been back working in her classroom for a few weeks now. It takes a lot of hours to get the classroom organized and sparkling for the first day. My brother-in-law also started the first day of his senior year. He’s at the top of the academic food chain now, but only until he heads off for college next year.

But for my side of the family, it’s a major change in lifestyle. Two of my siblings are still students, my sister-in-law is also a teacher, and three more, my mom, brother and sister, are school bus drivers. I guess that leaves my dad a little lonely in an awful quiet house now. Or very thankful for it.

My brother actually started the school bus kick when he picked it up as his college job. It took a little creative scheduling, but he managed to make himself available to drive almost every day. Then my mom caught the bug. Now she pretty much lives at the bus garage as the administrative assistant as well as a driver. My sister, Kirsten, is the latest victim. She started driving last winter. My other sister, Kaitlyn, and I decided the school bus gene must be in every other kid in my family. That means the youngest of us is doomed to a life behind the wheel of a yellow bus.

School bus transportation is one of the safest forms of transportation there is, much safer than cars. That’s why when an accident does happen, it makes headlines. More often than not, the few deaths and injuries that do happen occur as the pupils are entering and exiting the bus. I’ve heard plenty of horror stories about near misses from my bus driving family.

Here’s a few tips to teach your child on bus safety this year:
-Have a safe place to wait for your bus, away from traffic and the street.
-Stay away from the bus until it comes to a complete stop and the driver signals you to enter.
-When being dropped off, exit the bus and walk 10 giant steps away from the bus. Keep a safe distance between you and the bus. Also, remember the bus driver can see you best when you are back away from the bus.
-Use the handrail to enter and exit the bus.
-Stay away from the bus until the driver gives the signal that it’s OK to approach.
-Be aware of the street traffic around you. Drivers are required to follow certain rules of the road concerning school buses, but not all do.

I wish all you students a safe, happy and successful school year.