‘It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was
the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness’. Charles Dickens once wrote these words about
two cities; last Sunday they became a hideous, surreally hilarious reality for
us, in the tale I am about to tell, about two tractors….
Mid August – the final weed-cut of the year is underway and
myself and Neil were working in the river on Sunday, cutting and chopping
whilst Dylan took to swiping some of the river bank areas with a tractor
mounted swipe (essentially a chain mower on the back of a tractor).
The day progressed well, the rain cleared up and the sun
peeped out, and all was as it should be.
Until the phone call.
I received a slightly worried sounding Dylan on the end of
the phone saying he had got the tractor stuck in an area at the top of the Duck
Grounds.
Now the Duck Grounds at Mottisfont is a stunning area of wet
woodland, reed bed and peat mire complete with running ditches and ponds. Water vole, otters and kingfishers abound and
even Bittern have been known to overwinter in the reeds here. It is a private area, only open to the public
through daily guided walks from the grounds of Abbey. However, its tranquillity hides its deadly
nature – the general rule is to keep to the boardwalk in the Duck Grounds – and
this is beyond compulsory in the winter months.
Members of staff (naming no names) have come close to leaving the gene
pool by straying off the boardwalk here and sinking up to the neck, simply
because the Duck Grounds is Mottisfont’s answer to the Grimpen Mire. In amongst the trees and banks are
treacherous areas of peat bog that to the untrained eye appear solid
enough. However there are rumours of a
Victorian horse and trap that remain lost and sunk in the bog and when the
ponds were widened in 2005 they found a pair of old workman’s boots deep in the
peat.
So naturally, where else would you want to take a tractor?
After getting the call I made my way from the river to the
top of the Duck Grounds, found the woodland track he’d gone through and
followed the tractor tracks – coming to a dead halt as I saw the sight that
awaited me. There, tilted at a wacky
angle was the tractor, its back wheel firmly sunk into a canyon of its own making,
the swipe acting as a huge spade and dug in and sunk under the peat. Dylan stood to the side chain smoking roll
ups and muttering: ‘I got it through once!
I got the river bank swiped it was just on the way out!’
The sight that greeted me. |
After having a go myself at driving it out – about as likely
as it floating up and flying away, but I had to try – we went back to the yard
for the other tractor.
‘Don’t worry’ I said confidently, ‘the other Massey is more
powerful, it should pull it right out’.
The other Massey tractor had the timber crane on the back
which would add to the difficulty and restrict its power but it takes such
effort to remove the crane, and we were short on time, so I just drove the
tractor and crane as a complete item. I
trundled through Long Lash, into the Duck Grounds and through the woods on the
track way that Dylan had followed to get to the river. Having driven my tractor up nose on to
Dylan’s, we attached a heavy chain to the pair, each got in to our tractors and
made our first attempt. As I had to
reverse the timber crane through woodland I was fairly restricted so although
the pull did move Dylan’s a fraction…my front tyres soon started digging in and
were at risk of becoming stuck themselves.
We unhooked the tractors and I ensured mine could still move.
Dylan was adamant we call our colleague Dave who, having
worked the tractors for over 2 decades, could make them do anything he wanted
in the most hideous conditions and restricted space. I wanted one more go at pulling from a
slightly different angle, to try and pull his out of its tilt. I don’t like giving up after one try, and I
was insistent we try it this slightly different way.
Pride Cometh before a Fall.
So I realigned my tractor and tried again from a slight
angle…and due to my realignment slightly to one side of the track, slowly, surely
I felt myself tipping softly to the side like some slow motion horror
film. The peat bog loomed up in the
window as my tractor started sinking sideways, its connection to the timber trailer the only thing preventing it from tipping full into the bog.
Uttering expletives, I shut it down and leapt out the
door. Dylan got out of his and we just
stood and stared at the land based equivalent of two ship wrecks, both tilted
at ridiculous angles in the mud.
The result of my rescue attempt. Peat bog to the left. |
‘Well thanks for your help there, Cat’ Dylan half giggled in
a slightly hysterical manner. ‘Now
instead of just the one tractor, we’ve got about a hundred grand worth of kit
sunk in a bog!’
And so it was, that Dave, having been on annual leave for one,
single day, got a sheepish phone call to tell him that we’d sunk both tractors,
the swipe and the timber crane in the Duck Grounds and could do with a little
bit of help.
Bank Holiday Monday dawned bright and clear, the steam
rising off the dewy grass signalling what a scorcher the day would become.
9am saw Dave, Richard (Dave’s son), Gareth (a local farmer
complete with a kick ass tractor), myself and Matt (my boyfriend, who seemed
perfectly happy to witness my tractor devastation) all start the uncertain
attempts at rescuing our poor machines.
Gareth made short work of pulling out the first tractor, having first
disconnected the swipe. His monster tractor
had it out in a jiffy. Hooray! One down,
one to go!
I felled a couple of small tree’s that were hindering the
access route and we started by hooking Gareth’s tractor up to the Timber crane
and attempting to pull it all out. When Gareth’s
tractor started up ending onto its two back wheels, we ditched that
attempt. Next came the idea of using
Dylan’s original tractor as a sideways anchor to keep mine from tipping further
over as Gareth tried pulling it out backwards.
Barely budged an inch. Richard
walked around the side to take a close look and SLUEEUURP! Shot down through
the peat and sunk up to his waist in a second.
There was a split second of disbelief and a mental fight against the
urge to take a photo before we grabbed his arms and hauled him out, with Dave
gibbering slightly at the thought of nearly having to explain to his wife that
he’d lost their son to the famed Duck Grounds Bog.
Now forever known as 'Richard's Bog' - you can see from the watery puddled bit, where he sank. |
Several more attempts were made using different pulling
techniques. The winch was brought in on
the back of the tractor and we tried diverted pulls off sturdy trees to drag it
out frontwards but when the clutch started burning out we ended that attempt.
Gareth tried bigger chains pulling with his tractor but with a loud BANG! One of
the chain links actually snapped – chains that take several tonnes of pull,
snapped like elastic. We tried pulling with both Gareth’s tractor and our other
tractor but both started digging their own wheels in under the weight.
Eventually we realised the only hope was to unhook the
timber crane and pull it out the way, leaving the tractor lighter and more
accessible.
Given that I was lightest and it was me who got it into that
situation, I clambered inside the tractor to release the timber trailer
hitch. Matt held the door open so I had
a quick getaway if needed as the tractor sunk and tilted with every move I made
– made worse by the fact that as it was almost sideways, I had to brace my feet
on the side door and various levers to try and keep upright.
However, we succeeded in unhooking the crane and Gareth towed it out
the way.
Then came the final test; if this didn’t work we were out of
options. We hooked the poor half sunk tractor up to Gareth’s
tractor one more time, with a chain that looked big enough to anchor the
Titanic. We held our breath and stood
clear as Gareth put it into gear and began to pull…..an inch…two inches….then
Gareth’s tractor started sinking and the Massey rolled back into its ditch…
Trying to pull it out with Gareth's tractor (hidden behind the crane) and our second Massey (front). |
‘It’s got to be driven out!’ Dave yelled and he leapt into
the leaning Massey, fired it up and hit reverse, whilst Gareth started pulling
again with his machine….and slowly oh so
slowly it began to heave its way out of its boggy tomb. We cheered from the sidelines, urging it to keep
going and for nothing to snap as that would surely send it back in with such a
jolt that it would tip into the peat completely. Richard held a hammer ready to smash his way
through the window should he need to get his dad out in a hurry and we watched
between our fingers as the two tractors managed to drive their way up, up and
out onto the track and freedom! Whooping
and cheering ensured and I almost hugged the tractor with relief at seeing it
back on all four wheels and with nothing broken and no lives lost! The stench coming out of the depths of the
gorge was incredible, a hideous boggy sulphuric smell, oozing out of layers of
rotting vegetation long since buried and seeing the light of day for the first
time in decades. We made short work of
hitching up the timber crane again – left it to Dave this time and he glided it
between the trees like tractor ballet – and used the crane to pick up the swipe
which was still lying in the mud where Dylan got stuck originally.
And so if you were visiting Mottisfont on Bank Holiday
Monday, you may have seen/smelt an unusual convoy sludging its way through the
field and the visitor car-park. It would
have consisted of two filthy, smelly tractors that were shedding peat pats
every few yards and included one man who looked like he’d fallen into a cess
pit as well as the rest of us smudged with dirt, peat, oil and grease yet grinning
inanely with relief.
Me standing in the canyon left behind by my tractor... |
So we all learnt our lesson – Dylan learnt not to tractor
through peat bog woodland, I learnt that following your leader is not a good
game and Dave learnt that when he goes on annual leave he should hide the
tractor keys in an undisclosed location known only to himself. I also got some video footage out of it that should earn me a cash sum on 'you've been framed'...
And here endeth the Tale of Two Tractors: ‘It is a far, far
better rest that I go to, than I have ever known…’