This wasn't my first transport rodeo. I could very well be taking the same route home that I followed about fifteen years ago with a load of hay. That's the one that got me a spot in the Des Moines Register and kind of launched this whole column concept. It involved me, a load of hay, a stoplight, a free-wheeling bale of hay, a white Cadillac driven by a non-local and a front-end loader. You do the math.
We strapped the load soundly on this day, mainly because of that last event. What with the need for the loader tractor and the accompanying delay, it was now close to dark. I opted not to go home directly down Highway 9 through the middle of Cresco. Nope, I took a couple of side roads that let me get from Point A to Point B via Points C through about Q, without anyone wearing a badge even knowing I was out there. You see, I'd driven past several members of the region's law enforcement community enjoying a meal at an establishment on the highway in town as I went by in my loader tractor a short while before. Why interrupt their meal with a discussion over whether one of the multiple state troopers, or the DOT officer, or the city cop would be the one who gets to go outside and "write that moron a ticket" when I could let them eat in peace while I slipped by a mile or two away? I was doing them a favor. It was textbook Golden Rule stuff.
The new honey house successfully made its way back here to the farm with little trouble. Sure, there were some strange looks from the people I met on my route, but how often have you had to slow down as you met a building being pulled on a trailer by a Ranch Hand? Common stuff around here.
The building was gently lifted off the trailer and placed into position in the yard for its new role in the food industry. Just for fun, I may hoist it back onto the trailer at some point and pull into a local campground with it. I'll keep a couple boxes of bees on the front porch just to add that special redneck ambiance to the equation.
"More gopher, Everett?"