Harvest season is here; be patient with farmers

Harvest in the north state is upon us, and that means long hours, dust, noise and a heightened sense of care and patience, even for those who don’t work in ag.

When I first started in agriculture, I had no idea what I was in for. In fact, I felt like I had a head start on most, seeing that I had worked in the corporate concrete field for a family operation back east.

There, we started at sun up, but rarely if ever went to dark (unless we had a big pour before freezing temperatures). There it was hot and humid, dusty and dangerous. Still, agriculture in the Chico summers tested my resolve, prudence and ability to be patient.

When I approached my fatherin-law about coming to work for him in Chico, he smiled and said: “Agriculture is just a different world, Rory. We work 10 hours a day, six days a week.”

My first day I was told to fix a PVC pipe that was ostensibly 16 inches below the surface. By all estimation, to my manager’s seasoned eyes, this would be an easy fix. I dug. The water, still bubbling from below the hole, created a brown, sloshy mud pit. The break was not at 16 inches.

I dug further. “Perhaps it’s a submain,” my manager said. “That means it’ll be deeper; keep digging.” I did.

Being the newbie, I didn’t pace myself. As it happened, this was to be the hottest day of the summer — 111 degrees.

By the time I got to lunch, I was up to my eyes in mud, literally. The ATV also had a new, muddy brown paint job. The hole was now 4 feet by 4 feet by 2 feet. I still hadn’t hit the submain. I gulped more water that day than I had drank collectively in months. It was trial by Chico fire, and filth.

By 1 p.m., just after lunch, I was beat. I had called my manager five times by now, asking him how deep the submain was. I thought it must be a bad joke. I knew if I kept going I would pass out, but how could I stop? It was my first day and I had to prove my worth. I also thought about my safety.

Wisdom yielded that I call my manager back and get someone else to help. I told myself that I must find the submain before that. I did, then I called.

“I need some help or I am going to pass out,” I sheepishly told him.

“No problem, help is on the way,” he said.

I learned a lot that day. First, I learned that ag is different, like my sage father-in-law said. I also learned that our 25-year guys worked at a much steadier, more patient pace. I watched them work and helped with what little energy I had left. When we got out of the hole, with the PVC submain revealed and cleaned, the other guy was spotless.

From there on out, I watched the seasoned guys work. They were steady — not too fast and not too slow.

As I think about this first experience with ag, I think about others who perhaps don’t know how difficult it is out here, especially during harvest. Today, as harvest gets going in the north state, I want to give a few quick, but vastly important tips to non-ag community members.

First, there will be a lot of heavy equipment out on the road. Please be patient with us as we travel. Whether it is a huge double trailer full of nuts, or a shaker, or a tractor, be steady, be patient, keep a good pace. Don’t pass in an unsafe manner, even on quiet country roads with no traffic, and remember that tractors usually don’t have mirrors so it’s hard to see someone come up quickly behind you.

Second, harvesting nuts, especially a’monds, is a dusty and noisy affair. Most of us know this. Be patient with us as we try to mitigate our dust and get the job done as quickly and safely as possible. If you feel it necessary to approach an operator for any reason, don’t. Remember to check with the foreman or manager, and stay out of the fields.

Chico, be steady. Be patient.