Fifty-five acres on a ridge above Lonetree Creek. We just call it " up on the hill". As I was cutting hay today, so many stories, experiences and memories came to mind. Over a hundred years ago, Emanuel Reinhold, (my grandfather) broke this piece of ground with a team of horses. He recalled those days as slow steady work, but since this was on the edge of an ancient prairie dog town, there were some unique challenges. Along with huge mounds and deep holes, there were countless rattlesnakes. He told how his team responded not in fear at the sight and sound of a rattler, but how they would methodically stop at each one without command and Grandpa would go kill the snake. He filled an entire cigar box with rattles from all the snakes.
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I remember my Dad telling of building fence on the east side with his brother Paul "Brownie". Again, this was accomplished using a team of horses and hayrack to haul supplies. He would tell about stopping to eat and sitting under the hayrack in the shade. The pronghorn antelope were so curious that they would come right up to them. I always thought that was amazing. In those days, most of the country was nearly open range except for the small plots of homesteaders that had come and gone on the prairie.
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I recalled the time when our neighbor, Robert Brechtal was combining wheat and when he had breakdown on his machine, I was helping him. I was probably only about twelve or thirteen and I don't even remember really what the problem was except we dropped a tool and it fell into crack in the gumbo. Since it was dry year and the crack was deep and wide... we were never able to retrieve that tool.
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I recalled when my brother had the unfortunate incident on this very field of going off the back of a moving tractor and being run over by a tandem disc. The seat on the Case Tractor that he was farming with broke and and he literally fell over backward. A freak deal, no doubt. But there was no cab to hold him in on that old tractor and it happened. He broke his pelvis, bruised his body, nearly cut off an ear but survived to walk the half mile home... with a broken pelvis. Amazing to say the least. He spent weeks in the hospital, but was able to walk across the platform at his graduation from high school.
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I recalled driving the Massey Ferguson tractor in mid September trying to rake the sudan that was on the ground and snow was pelting me in the face. Yes, weather and the extremes thereof worked its way into my memories.
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And I could not forget how forty years plus years ago, I was planting wheat. No big deal, but this was about fourteen feet per round and I had a very sore neck and body. Dad and I had a wreck with a runaway team of horses one Labor Day. Yes, we still enjoyed teams of horses even just for fun. But something went wrong and team took off just like in the old westerns. We stayed with it for about a quarter of a mile until on a turn, the wagon tipped. I flew through the air and landed on my head and shoulder. (I have joked that since I landed on my head... I didn't get hurt as bad as my dad) However, Dad was holding the reins and was pulled hard into the ground. He broke eleven ribs and a collar bone... and oh yes... a punctured lung as well. That is why I planted the winter wheat that year with a very stiff body.
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Yes... over a hundred years of farming and haying this piece of ground. Today, was uneventful. It was nice to have hay on this field for the first time in three years. Made some pretty nice windrows. Did the work with family. Danny took the drone up to take this photo. The generations before him would be amazed. And thanks to the next generations for adding to the stories, experiences and memories on the Lonetree Ranch