One day I met a farmer. I guess we were always meeting farmers because we were in and out of their properties continually (Some liked us better than others!), but I mean a particular farmer.
My job was "driver." I was in charge of a two man crew (me and Carl) and that year our crew operated a weed spraying unit that consisted of a large tank, a long boom with spray nozzles, and a hand-held gun, all mounted on a trailer which was pulled with a small Ford tractor. My partner rode on a small platform which extended from the rear of the sprayer unit. Carl could unwind the hose on the hand gun and step off his platform and walk behind the unit to spray the more remote areas. Carl spent a lot of time on the ground behind our unit, for some reason.
Carl and I were required to drive along the irrigation ditch banks with the boom out, spraying weeds which grew alongside the ditch. We would enter the bank at a road and travel to the next road, cross the ditch on the road "bridge," and travel back on the opposite bank. As you can see, if you encountered an obstacle on your bank, you would have to backtrack, go up the opposite bank, and then back in on the first bank from the far end. Not only was this a lot of extra driving, but you were often in tricky positions and had a difficult time turning the unit around.
We had three different kinds of ditches to contend with. First, the canal, which was a large ditch, more than twenty feet across. Then, coming off the canal, we had what we called a "lateral" which was a fair-sized ditch about five feet across and fed a number of farmers through whose land it crossed. Finally, there were little ditches coming off the canal which served a single farm.
The water flow in the single ditches was controlled by a gate welded to the end of a culvert which crossed under the canal bank. The lateral was controlled by "the drop," an open concrete structure approximately four feet wide and four feet deep with removable 2x6 planks that the "ditch rider" could take out or put in to regulate the amount of water flowing into the lateral. This created a mini waterfall. The drop usually had a 2x10 plank across the edge which the operator could stand on to remove the 2x6 planks to adjust the flow, but other than that it was wide open.
But I want to tell you how we met the farmer. Carl and I were spraying a canal bank -- a nice big bank. The ideal kind where we could relax and let the sprayer do it's job. That is, until, about half-way between bridges when we came to a drop (Did I mention obstacles?). I shut down the unit and we had a discussion about the best way to navigate the situation. Carl suggested that we turn back and go around. I pointed out to him that someone had conveniently left another plank lying at the edge of the ditch -- it could help us overcome our "obstacle."
The plank was long enough to reach across the drop with about six inches left on either end. I pulled the tractor up to the edge so I could get the alignment right on the wheels. I gently edged the tractor onto the plank. The front wheels rolled across, no problem. The rear wheels of the tractor were centered on the plank when overconfidence kicked in: I popped the clutch.
There was less resistance at the end of the plank than at the tractor wheel. The plank slipped back and off the concrete wall of the drop. I dropped! Fortunately, the tractor got hung up on the trailer hitch. As fate would have it, at just that moment our supervisor Jake (No affection there!) drove up on the opposite bank of the canal. I saw his face swell and turn red. He expressed some fairly clear opinions. I knew we would not see eye to eye on the situation, so I suggested that he throw me a chain and disappear.
Which is how we met the farmer. He was working in his field a few hundred yards away on my side of the canal. He saw the whole thing. He was very controlled. He was polite. He had a big tractor.
I went over and asked for a pull. He seemed happy to see me approach. Or maybe his grin was masking his efforts to control his laughter? I must admit that our predicament would have given him and his colleagues much fodder for coffee-time guffaws: What more could ya' expect from a government worker? Not overly bright, those boys!
With the help of the farmer's tractor, our unit came out of that ditch, slick as anything. I reset the plank and the sprayer was across. I maintain that, in spite of the one minor distraction, we saved considerable time and when the supervisor came 'round to take us back to the farm his color had almost returned to normal; he was ruefully telling the other two crews about my adventure with Carl.
