A frightening farmland drive

By NAN BROWN
As published July 2, 2008

I’ve mentioned several times in past columns how much enjoyment Jack and I derive from drives through the farmlands. We see Amish farmers hard at work in their fields standing atop a piece of antiquated farm equipment drawn by a team of five or six mules or work horses. We can’t begin to imagine how hard this work must be as the farmer guides the plodding animals along hour after hour through acre upon acre.

We also enjoy seeing the fruits of the farmers’ labors as the fields grow and thrive until the time for harvesting arrives. Crops particularly in abundance around here are corn, tobacco, and soybeans. Primitive equipment is once again used at harvest time as well as for the many cuttings of hay that take place between spring and fall.

Already hundreds of huge white heavy-duty plastic bags we refer to as “Ag bags” dot the landscape throughout the farmlands. Each bag contains a large round bale of hay used to sustain livestock through the winter months. Often dozens of these bags are placed end to end resembling a gigantic white caterpillar.

The gardens beside Amish houses are also thriving now tended to by the women and children. They are all beautifully maintained, most are mulched, and there is never a weed in sight.

Our drives are always enjoyable and idyllic in nature. There was one exception recently, however, when our excursion was less than pleasurable.

We had just finished having dinner at New Holland Restaurant. We noticed the sky in the distance was blackening and, in fact, strong storms were predicted for that evening. Just before we left the restaurant we started seeing lightning.

We were just going to go straight down Route 23 to our home in Leola until I had what turned out to be a not so bright idea that we should go home via the farmlands. We usually enjoyed going this circuitous route home during a storm because the lightning is so much more vivid out in the wide open spaces.

It wasn’t long until we realized we had bitten off more than we could chew on this particular trip. The storm intensified fast and furiously. Wind rocked the car and sheets of rain pelted us to the point that we could barely see even with the windshield wipers on the highest setting.

What was especially unsettling, though, was the lightning, the likes of which we had never seen. Bolts were continuously crashing all around us, and they were close – way too close for comfort. Of course, thunder accompanied each strike to the point that I felt like we were under cannon fire – the noise was that deafening.

I’m not ashamed to admit I was quite frightened. Even Jack who absolutely loves storms seemed a bit bewildered. On top of it all, it started to hail – just miniscule balls of ice at first which quickly intensified to at least pea sized.

At that point we headed for our church that happened to be about two miles away and which has an overhang where people can be dropped off at the front door. We parked under the overhang for protection from the hail while the storm continued to rage around us.

Finally after about ten minutes the storm seemed to be letting up a bit, so we decided to leave our protective covering and head for home. It then immediately re-intensified although the hail seemed to be over with for the time being.

We came across high water which we decided not to try to navigate and instead tried another route. We had only gone another mile or so when we encountered a huge tree blocking the road, so we had to turn around and take our chances with the high water. Thankfully it wasn’t as high as we thought or swift enough to displace the car’s weight, so we managed to get through safely.

We finally made our way home, and I can honestly say I’ve never been happier to pull into our garage. Just as we were getting out of the car though the storm let us know it wasn’t quite done with us yet as two huge bolts of lightning hit in front of our house. I involuntary let out a screech as I had many times during our trek and headed inside as fast as I could.

We were greeted by three frantic dogs who stuck to us like glue the rest of the evening. Later on I commented to Jack, “If I ever suggest driving through the farmlands in a storm again, shoot me.” He grinned at me and replied, “I thought it was kinda cool.” I think I’ll have him committed.