I'd been out with the tractor half the day and was now taking it back to where we keep the heavy machinery. Several of the farms had chipped in for the big stuff and we stored it in a common lot at the back of the farms. The only way to reach this common lot was via a narrow private road that ran between the farms and dead ended at the machinery compound.
All of our farms could be accessed from that private road so we rarely needed to take the tractors and such out onto the main roads, which the neighbouring motorists probably considered a blessing. It can be a real bastard trying to pass a slow tractor on some of those roads.
Being the best tractor operator of the lot of us, I'd generally get tapped if there was a bit of tricky work to be done with one, which was fair enough. It meant I could tap the boys when their expertise was needed over some other matter.
Now I'd been at Sam's place and his place was the furthest from the machinery area. When you considered the size of the farms, that private road was several kilometres long. (We had our own grader attachment for the tractor. Kept the road usable.) I'd left Sam's place and was puttering down the road at about 20kph. Slow, I know, but she was an old tractor. We've been talking about getting a new one but what the hell, she still goes, so we keep putting it off.
I'd gone about a kilometre down the track and had a couple more to go when I hear this horn behind me. I turn my head to see who the hell is behind me and there's this little red coupe following me and tooting.
Now consider where we were; a private dead end road between a flock of farms, leading only to the machinery compound. Yes, you could get off the road and onto one of the farms if you wanted to, but you'd be stuck in a paddock at the back of the farm. OK if you're driving a 4WD, but not exactly your coupe type terrain.
I naturally thought that the driver was trying to attract my attention so I pulled up, climbed down, and wandered back to see what they wanted. Probably directions, because they were surely lost.
The driver's window came down and there was this cute little girl inside. She was driving, so she had to be eighteen, but she sure didn't look it.
"Afternoon, miss," I said with a smile. "Can I help you with something?"
"Why, yes, you can, moron," she snapped. "Instead of stopping in the middle of the road you can pull over and let me past."
It seemed my loveable charm wasn't operating where she was concerned. I nodded thoughtfully and head back to the tractor. Pull over, she said. Let her past, she said. And precisely where did she expect me to pull over? The road was wide enough for the tractor but it sure wasn't a two way road. Mind you, if she'd asked nice I might have stopped at a farm entrance and let her past, but she didn't ask nice.
I climbed back on board and headed on down the track, at 15kph. Didn't want to strain the old girl, now did I? Another slow kilometre and I could feel her seething in her car. It would have been obvious to her that there weren't any places I could pull over. It wasn't as I was deliberately slowing her down. These things happen.
The reason I mentioned travelling that second kilometre was because that's the point I had to stop again. Cow on the road. I pulled up and got down, hearing a crunching sound from the rear of the tractor, but not thinking anything of it. I strolled over to the cow lying in the road, chewing its cud.
I was passing Rod's place and the gate to his field was slightly ajar. He had a defective catch on it and he'd been told to fix it. On my way back from dropping of the tractor I'd stop and nail the damn gate closed. Maybe he'd get the message.
I choused the cow back into the field and wedged the gate closed. It would keep until I made the trip back. Turning back to the tractor and there was little miss red coupe, almost dancing on the spot in her fury and agitation.
I spread my hands in a 'what can you do' gesture.
"The boys complain if I drive over the odd cow on the road," I called to her, "and it makes the front of the tractor all mucky. I find it simpler to just send the cow home."
"Screw the stupid cow," she raged. "Look what you've done to my car, you idiot. This is all your fault. Why couldn't you just move over when I asked?"
"Just where would you suggest I pull over?" I asked. "You can see for yourself there's nowhere to go. And what's wrong with your car, anyway?"
I went to look at where she was parked right bang up against the tractor. Really and truly bang up against the tractor. When I'd stopped, she'd been too close to me and couldn't stop in time. Cosmetic damage only, I noted. When you're braking from 15kph you slow down fast and don't hit hard. I was surprised that she managed to hit me at all.
"Bit of damage there," I observed. "That'll cost you a bit. Got insurance have you?"
"Yes I have insurance. More to the point is do you have insurance? I assume that you do insure your vehicles, even on a farm. This was your fault and your insurance will be paying."
"Lady, you have got to be kidding. You were tailgating and rear-ended me. Not a court in the land would find in your favour. Your insurance company wouldn't even bother approaching mine. Geez, I was only doing fifteen and still you managed to hit me. You do have a license, don't you? I'll need to see it just in case you managed to scratch my old girl."
"Scratch your tractor?" she yelped. "Scratch your fucking tractor? It's nothing but dents and scratches. What, are you going to point to one of a thousand scratches and say that one's my fault? You're insane. That old thing is only held together by wire and string."
She had a point there. The catch to the engine cover had snapped off and we had some wire holding it in place.
"OK. I'll waive any damages you might have done with your careless driving," I said generously. "We'll still need to exchange details as you have picked up some damage. Ah, I'm assuming that you damaged your car hitting me. It's not previous damage, is it?"
It wasn't. I'd see how neat and trim her car looked when I'd stopped earlier to see what she wanted. Still, it didn't hurt to stir her up a bit.
I took my time noting down her details, with her practically jumping up and down in frustration. She had a rude mouth on her and was rather free with her insults, finally demanding I get a move on.
"Just how much longer are you going to block my way, anyway? Why can't you pull into a field or something?"
"The weather's been a bit wet," I said glibly. "Wouldn't want to get bogged, would I."
Fat chance of that happening with my tractor. She might be old but she could still go places.
She muttered something that sounded like a fervent prayer that both I and my tractor would get bogged in a bed of quicksand, and the quicker the sand the better.
"Well, how much further until I can pass you?" she asked through gritted teeth.
"Well, now, you just aren't going to be able to pass me. Another kilometre and I'll be at the machinery compound and I'll park there, but that's the end of the road, so there's nowhere else for you to go."
"What?"