Cruising down the dirt road doing 90 klicks. (I think that's about 60mph but who's looking at the gauge that closely, eh?)
Dust hanging in the wet hot August air.
Up ahead, a huge giant tractor is trying to use only two-thirds of the road.
Swing out a little and see if passing would be a good idea.
Because normally it's okay to pass. I mean, don't be a jerk about it. The guy on the tractor is just doing his job, and the road is part of his workplace. So you wait until you can get around him and while you're waiting you just chill the **** out because there's no point or reason or purpose to getting all bent up about it.
Turns out there's another tractor coming along the road the other direction and no time, no room, to get around.
At least if you'd rather not be wearing Case IH grill around your neck, that is.
Don't care how bitchin' your pickup truck is... you take on a tractor, you lose.
So follow that tractor for awhile. No bigs.
Except that maybe if he's pulling a big honey wagon.... might want to keep some distance.
The tractors meet and wave and move on their ways.
Then it's safe to pass.
If you want to get anywhere during harvest season, just leave a few minutes earlier, I mean, duh.
These days, when I see traffic jams on the 401 on the evening news, long lines of stressed out commuters simmering in their cars, I am silently blissfully happy to be out here waiting for tractors. (All I have to do now is figure out how to move a good chunk of the music biz out of Toronto and out to the sticks, one project at a time, so that my Jethro can ride a tractor to work...!)