Spring

Its one week in-between winter and summer in Montana

Kerry’s daffodils also mean spring

Do not consult the calendar or watch the weather man to determine if it’s spring in Montana. In April and May, it can be warm and sunny in the morning and snowing with temperatures in the 20s by midafternoon. We have been spending part of each day contemplating on whether to bring the bonsai trees and vegetable starts in their trays inside for the night to protect them, or leave them out and take a gamble on them becoming pillars of ice by morning. We call it Garden Poker.

On the ranch, the best indicator of spring was the birds. First, let’s get this out of the way. Pay no attention to robins and their bob, bob, bobbing along. They are the dunces of the avian world and never know what time of year it is. But when the Sandhill Cranes arrived with their morning croaking and dancing, it brought smiles to our faces. “This is the beginning of the end of winter!” we cried out as we danced around in our long underwear.

Notice I didn’t say the beginning of spring. Spring didn’t get going until the Red Wing and Yellow Headed Black Birds congregated in the cottonwoods behind the house and made a racket with what they think is singing. That is followed by the ducks, geese and pelicans visiting our ponds. Some stay but others continue north to wherever their breeding grounds are. When the snipe started winnowing, the meadowlarks let loose with their iconic singing, and the hummingbirds showed up at the feeders, we would relax a little because Spring might be here. Maybe. Still, we don’t plant the garden until after June 1^st.

Attempting to time ranch work with spring weather, despite the help from the birds, is also tricky. One task that needs to be done, once the frost is out of the ground and the grass is still short and dormant, is dragging fields. The process is simple. You hook up a drag to a pickup truck or tractor and drag it along covering a field. A drag is made up of interlocking steel round stock that is in the shape of diamonds. There are sets of “teeth” that dig up dead grass and left over hay from feeding cows, and bust up cow patties spreading the manure around to help fertilize the ground. The drag is designed to be flexible and hug the contours of the ground. The process is very similar to mowing a lawn in that you follow your drag marks from your last pass by overlapping with the drag. When you are done, the field looks smooth, green, and pristine. Now irrigation water can flow across the ground, and the grass can grow to become hay for the next winter.

That first spring we were on the ranch Dave, the owner, sent me up on the side of a hill to bring the drag down to the shop to make any repairs before I started dragging. I drove up and there on the side hill were several pieces of equipment and a pile of rusty steel. I wandered through and moved aside old grass from last year but didn’t see a drag. It was as wide and long as a pickup truck, so shouldn’t have been easy to miss. After 15 minutes of fruitless searching, I went back to the shop.

“Dave, I can’t find the drag. Are you sure you left it there?”

Dave was not happy that I was questioning him, but I had gotten to know him a little and forgetting where he left things was a feature of working with him.

“I know it’s up there. Do you know what a drag looks like?”

I ignored the slight. It was another feature of working there.

“Yes, I know what one looks like. Maybe you should go up there and show me where it is.”

Dave took off on the four-wheeler and I followed in the truck. When I got there, he was already off the four-wheeler and pointing in triumph at the pile of rusty steel.

“There it is right there!”

“That’s a drag?” I couldn’t believe it.

“Sure, it’s a drag. It’s just a little tangled up from last year. Hook it up to the truck and bring it down to the shop.” With that he roared off .

I grabbed a broken piece of metal fence post I found and dug around looking for the tongue of the drag to hook it to hitch on the truck. A 3/8’s chain came up out of the ground. I pulled on it and link by link it popped up until I found the end that had a hook attached. Then after more digging around I found a long pipe that the drag was attached to. The chain was looped on the pipe, so I backed the truck up, wrapped the free end of the chain to the trucks hitch, gave it a pull and stalled the standard transmission truck. I turned in the hubs and put the truck in four- wheel low and gave it another pull. At first all I did was spin my wheels on the soft earth. I was about to quit and look for a new solution when I felt the drag give. Bit by bit, it came loose of the ground and tall grass. I got out of the truck and laughed. The drag was rolled up like a sleeping bag with pieces of wire and baling twine sticking out of it. I almost missed the two long pieces of steel re-rod with hooks on both ends and a steel hoop in the grass. I threw those in the truck bed because it was obvious they would hook on the ends of the pipe and the hoop which would be attached to the truck with a chain. I tried to unroll the metal sleeping bag, but there was no way. The thing was way too heavy for me to untangle. I dragged the contraption down to the shop and Dave came out to take a look.

“What took you so long?”

“This thing was buried in the ground and grass. I needed four-wheel low to break it loose. When was the last time you used it?”

“Last year.” came the indignant reply.

Yeah, right. I thought. This thing hasn’t been moved for a few years.

“Well, get it sorted out and I’ll show you how to drag the field. I’ve got things to do.” Dave commanded and left for his house on his four-wheeler.

Sort it out. I surveyed the mess and noticed one section had shaken loose on our trip down here. It was still too heavy to pick up, so I got the tractor and attached another chain to the bucket and hooked it on the drag. Kerry came outside to see what I was doing and stood there shaking her head. I got down from the tractor to figure out my next step.

“Can you untangle this mess?” she asked.

“Maybe. If I pick it up a little and shake it with the bucket, can you whack it with a small sledge hammer and see if we can shake it loose?”

“Sure! I love whacking things!”

I shook the bucket while Kerry hit spots that looked like they needed whacking. Bit by bit the drag started to become untangled. I kept setting it down and backing up to unroll it a piece at a time. The weird thing was it didn’t look like a drag at all. When the last piece shook loose, I backed up and laid the whole thing out flat on the ground and shut off the tractor.

Kerry stared at the drag. “This doesn’t look right.” was all she said, and she was right. We realized that the drag was in four pieces that were hooked together with baling twine and wire. The metal fatigue and grooves worn in the steel all over the drag was a bit worrying. I could be leaving pieces of the drag all over the ranch.

“How old is this thing?” Kerry wondered aloud.

“It sure looks prehistoric, doesn’t it?” I replied.

Now the question was, where to begin the repairs? Usually the right answer is to start at the beginning which in this case was the broken welds and the baling twine connectors. Two hours later, after a lot of hot sparks and loud hammering we had a fixed drag. Kerry came out of the house with a glass of water and a sandwich for me and admired my handiwork.

“That looks pretty good. I didn’t know you knew how to fix drags.” she said with an impish grin

“This is my first one. Let’s see what Dave thinks.” I could hear him coming down from his house. He pulled up alongside the drag.

“I guess that will work. Drag it out into this field right here and don’t hit the gate.” Was his terse remark.

Once I got the drag into the field, he sat in the truck with me giving driving instructions. Things like what the best speed is to drag. He warned me about the irrigation ditches and not to drive into them. I was advised several times to be sure and make a big enough swing to miss the gate posts while going from field to field. On every pass around the field he reminded me not to get too close to the creek that ran through the middle of the hayfields because it was dangerous. In this field the creek had eroded a deep cut that flattened out on the other side of the fence 100 yards down river. After the fourth reminder to not get too close I was exasperated.

“OK Dave! I get it! Don’t get close to the creek!” He didn’t say anything after that.

My in-service for field dragging was now over so on my next pass I dropped Dave by the gate.

Photo by Tiziano Brignoli on Unsplash

“Don’t dawdle in this field. I want to ditch when you are done. I have lots of work to do.” Dave said and left for his house.

What he meant by ditching was that he would use the tractor to pull a V shaped plow on two wheels that created irrigation ditches or just cleaned them up.

“Don’t dawdle,” he said slamming the truck door behind him.

“I haven’t dawdled since kindergarten.” I said to the empty cab and began dragging.

With each pass by the “forbidden zone” near the creek I scanned for the dangerous thing that was to be avoided. It was flat here and the drop off was obvious. I just didn’t get it, so I stopped and looked for the dangerous thing. Standing on the edge of the cut I surmised that the danger was to somehow drive over the edge. You would have to be a moron or not be paying attention to get stuck down there. So, I continued my dragging, excluded the forbidden zone, which left a couple feet untouched all along the creek bank. I found my exit gate and drove due east to what we called the Long Field to continue my drag.

There is a clanking rhythmic sound the drag makes as it scrapes the earth that is soothing for some reason. It put me in a good mood so I started singing along with the radio when I saw a small plume of dust coming towards me on the central ranch road that could only be made by a four-wheeler. The good mood vanished. What the hell does he want now? Am I bending the grass blades the wrong way? Turns out it was my lovely bride. She pulled up with the biggest smile you have ever seen while handing me a big bottle of water.

“Hi, Dave needs you to go to the shop and gather all the 3/8” chain you can find and bring it to the creek in the field where you just were. You’ll see the tractor.”

“OK. What’s going on?”

“Oh, I don’t want to spoil the surprise.” With a laugh she spun her four-wheeler around and raced back towards the house while waving goodbye.

This could not be good. I unhooked the drag and drove to the shop to get the chains. I could see the tractor from the doorway and something was definitely not right. All I could see was the bucket way up in the air and the tops of the front tires. That made no sense on a flat field unless…there was no way THAT could have happened, was there?

Driving out onto my nicely dragged field it became clear what happened. Somehow Dave had gotten too close to the creek and the ditcher slid in dragging the tractor with it.

Dave was standing at the edge of the ditch surveying the scene.

“I don’t understand,” he said to me by way of explanation. “Back the truck around and we will drag the whole thing out.”

“Are you sure we can drag the tractor and the ditcher out at the same time?” I innocently asked, “The tires are flat on the ditcher.”

“They have always been like that. It won’t be a problem.”

I was chuckling under my breath on my way back to the truck. I happen to know a little about heavy equipment, and I knew this would never work. The bank was too soft and steep plus the ditcher was adding a lot of weight. But, I was still new and I was not “born to the ranch” as the saying goes. I assumed that if a guy had been ranching for thirty or more years, he would know more about ranch stuff than someone like me.

With a loud “GO!” from Dave we tightened up on the tractor, gave it a yank and got nowhere. I got out of the truck and walked over to the edge of the cut to get a better look and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

“Dave!” I yelled over the engine noises, pointing skyward, “Pick up the F#&*^ing blade!” (That is how you talk around heavy equipment. Thanks for the education, Dad!)

Dave waved in acknowledgment and used the hydraulics to pick the ditcher blade up so it would stop anchoring itself in the creek bank keeping us stuck. We gave it another try and this time the tractor did move but started to spin its tires digging itself into the bank. It was just too dang heavy.

Without waiting for permission, I climbed down and unhitched the ditcher. We tried again and this time the tractor came out easily. Dave grabbed another length of chain and took one end down to wrap it around the ditcher’s tongue. I got the spare tire off the back of the truck and set it up right at the edge of the ditch and pulled the other end of the chain over the top of the tire and hooked it to the tractor. Dave climbed back up and stood there scratching his head.

“Why are you doing that?”

“Well, the tire rolls along keeping the chain high which keeps the tongue from digging in the dirt. Works for pulling stumps or even stubborn fence posts too.” I couldn’t believe I was explaining this to a seasoned rancher.

“There is no need for all that,” he said.

“OK,” I laid the chain on the ground and got out of the way. It was his funeral.

Dave gunned the engine and gave the ditcher a mighty yank. The tongue dug into the bank then flipped sideways, landing upside down. The tractor tires started to spin and dig up my freshly dragged field. Dave got out and peered over the edge of the ditch.

“How did that happen?”

I think the question was rhetorical, so I remained quiet. We stood there for a few minutes, staring at the ditcher. I couldn’t imagine what he was thinking. The solution was obvious, at least to eastern dummies like me. At last, I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Dave, move the tractor over and try to get as much of an angle downstream as possible. We’ll link all the chain together and hook it to the ditcher and flip it right side up. Then we’ll use the tire and pull it up the bank. I was surprised he didn’t argue. The tractor flipped the ditcher with ease. I set up the tire and the chain and waved him forward until everything was tight and that ditcher came right up the hill. One hydraulic hose was busted from being dragged in the dirt upside down, but we had a replacement in the shop. The ditcher’s tires were now not just flat. but also coming off the rims in pieces. Most guys take the rims and go to the tire shop in town and get some old used tires for something like this. I figured to volunteer to do it in the morning because this was the kind of job Dave hated. He told me once that going to town for parts was unproductive, though I wasn’t sure what another option was if you needed parts. I thought it best not to ask.

I unhitched all the chain and got it stowed on the flatbed and then waved Dave in to hook up the ditcher. He waved me off and opened the cab door.

“Leave it right there! I’ll take the rims in to get tires at some point. I’ve got things to do!” With that he drove off toward the shop.

I stood there for a moment watching Dave drive the tractor way too fast, his tires digging up my nicely dragged field and slinging bits of turf into the air. Yes, if you couldn’t tell, I was a little emotional about him repeatedly sullying my pristine field.

“He has things to do,” I mumbled to myself in wonder and climbed in the truck. I started the Ford up and headed back to the Long Field to clank and sing along with the radio. If I was lucky I might see some pelicans on the pond.