Hay Rides

Hayrides whether with or without hay are among my best recollections. Whenever we were young, our church youth group would have hay rides with real hay every fall. We’d coerce some of our parents to use their pickup to pull a flat-bed trailer loaded with hay. Of course, we would pile on the blankets and take along flashlights. Never have we told more intriguing stories. We would usually discover something either imaginary or real to scare the bejeebies out of us. One time we had to search for a friend’s false tooth among the hay. Have you ever tried to find a tooth on a haystack? Somewhere along the journey, we’d have a planned stop for a big pot of stew or chili. After miles of riding, we’d gather back at the host’s house and play games until midnight.

About the time I thought that my hayriding days were over, we were invited to another. One Thanksgiving, we went to my son-in-law’s parents’ home to celebrate. His whole family including grandparents, aunts and uncles and cousins attended. His dad, Ricky, insisted that we go on a hayless hay ride. It was really more of a blanket/lawn chair ride. We didn’t care. It was going to be fun because the air was brisk and crisp. The unfamiliar countryside of East Texas was gorgeous with many different fall leaf colors.

We all jumped onto the trailer and found a seat. The entire family some 30 strong set out on our big adventure.

Now, Ricky is mischievous. He loves to play practical jokes and aggravate the little kids. He’d start and stop the pickup to get us off balance. We would scold him, but the more we’d fuss, the more he’d knock us over. We all got caught up in the ride and our cares faded away.

On a long, straight stretch of road, Ricky opened his pickup door leaving it wide open and jumped out only to stand in the road. The pickup just kept on moving slowly forward. He scared us to death. We thought that the pickup was moving on its own volition unattended. It was very distressing. We all yelled and squealed at Ricky to get back in, but to no avail. In fact, the trailer passed him by. Panic was setting in. Then, he began laughing and slapping his thigh.

He had abandoned the pickup, but unbeknownst to us there was a passenger in the pickup that we could not see. His wife, Elizabeth, was actually steering the pickup straight as an arrow.

We wanted to hurt him. He’d nearly caused us to have heart attacks, but we just chuckled and chided him instead.

Reminiscing about hay rides stirs up great fall memories.