Novice No De-Tractor Of Pulls
Marc Yacht
If there is a tractor heaven, it’s in
Inverness in
I attended the Citrus County Fair Association’s Eighth Annual Tractor Pull late last month. Present was every tractor you can imagine, from vintage International Harvesters, Massey Fergusons and Allis Chalmers, to Olivers, McCormicks and, why, even an old Ford. They were all painted and spanking clean. And those were the antiques. There also were souped-up monster tractors with big V-8 engine blocks that would dwarf those high-riser, mud-racer pickup trucks.
I contemplated what a tractor pull might be. I visualized big, muscular farmers pulling large tractors. The team that pulled the tractor the farthest won, and the prize possibly was a free hernia operation by a local surgeon.
Such an understanding of a tractor pull made sense to a
While on the fairgrounds I made my way to the tractor area and asked an official to explain the contest. He explained that a tractor was pulled on a sled. That made little sense to me, as I tried to understand how that would work. He made it clear that men did not pull the tractor, and I tried to understand who or what did.
Adding to my confusion was the revving of tractor engines. After all, if the tractors were being pulled, why would they need to run their engines?
It took a fellow from
While I sat in the stands, I watched the preparation of the racing turf. Tractors and weighty roller trucks leveled and packed the sand. They went back and forth for more than an hour. Cones were placed every 100 feet. The lanes allowed three races to occur simultaneously. I looked quizzically at the large elongated vehicles that traveled back and forth along those lanes.
My
Tractors were in a weight class, and that allowed any size to compete. Tiny Cub Cadets and homemade tractors piloted by children competed.
Ultimately, the winning tractors in each weight class would pull heavier and heavier sleds to determine the winner. This was an all-day event, and there were lots of tractors. Many tractors dragged the sled the required 300 feet. In the stands and hanging on the fences, the young and old enjoyed the action. Hot dogs, drinks and french fries filled hungry bellies.
After three hours of watching tractors ranging from small to gigantic and representing every make and model known to the farming community, I had had enough. The diesel fumes and noise had taken their toll, and I left the fairgrounds.
I have no idea who won that day, but I definitely acquired
a new respect for tractors and the farmers who use them. Farm folks have a way
of connecting you to an honest and hard-working way of life. I know as long as
they’re moving those tractors, all is good with