Thoughts on Moving On

      I've heard a number of older farmers tell me, "If you're going to to be successful as a farmer, never buy a pickup truck." Maybe there's some truth to that, trucks are expensive to buy, thirsty for gas and unless you buy an extended cab (even more thirsty) they don't have a lot of space for a lt of people.      My experience is different. My family always had a truck (or two, or more). It came in handy for doing parts runs, pulling wagons and hauling cattle, sheep and seed. When I bought my first vehicle, it had to be a truck. I was running a seed dealership and had to get the seed to my customers, selling hay as a cash crop and running a small beef herd. It took a day of driving around for me to find the right one for me.
      I remember that day like it was yesterday, it was the late summer of 2003 and I knew exactly what I wanted: a half ton, manual transmission with a regular cab and an 8 foot box. Brand didn't matter, it was all about performance per dollar spent. The salesman at the local Dodge dealership enraged me, and the Ford and GM salesmen were great to negotiate with, especially since they were across the road from one another in the small town of Watford, ON. At the end of the day I had bought the last 2003 V8 standard GMC Sierra in Ontario for what I considered a reasonable price. I loved it. That truck began my true involvement in public service. That fall, I joined the provincial board of the Junior Farmers' Association of Ontario in a byelection as the PD for Lambton. Through my re-election in January to the following 3 years that I spent on the JFAO Provincial Executive, that truck was a regular feature at the weekend JFAO events across Southern Ontario. Since I generally had the furthest to go, and I was working my JFAO responsibilities around farming duties, I regularly travelled solo. 
      My first summer I embarked on the longest road trip I've ever enjoyed. That summer, I went on the biannual general meeting of FarmHouse Fraternity called Conclave in Des Moines, IA. En route,  watched a Cubs game at Wrigley Field and afterwards, I went up to my cousin's wedding, which was the followng weekend. With time to kill, I went to Edmonton to have supper with one of my closest friends and drove through Saskatchewan, a province that captivated me in the summer of 2001. Because of that, I set off some red flags and my truck was host to an animal for the first of 2 times in her life, the Canada Customs sniffer dog. After the wedding, I went home via Northern Ontario and beautiful Manitoulin Island.
      Apart fom multiple kilometres covering Ontario and sometimes heading over to see family in Quebec, nothing really much changed until I bought the farm in Oil Springs. With feed being 22 km away from the cows, the truck pulled 26 4X5 hay bales and carried 2 in the box on icy roads from Sarnia to the new farm pretty much weekly. By using the truck, I was able to shave half an hour off the trip and take more hay. When I spoke to a friend of mine about it, he pointed out that I was pulling 20 800 lbs, not including the wagons and carrying another 1600 lbs. It cost me a transmission eventually, but an automatic wouldn't have been able to pull that load to begin with.
      Over the years, this truck has been my home, my tent, my method of conveyance, my office and the most useful and aggravating tool on the farm. Even though it was a manual, I've driven it despite the odd cast or brace. It brought my dog and buddy, Jack from my sister's place to mine, making him the second and last animal to be in the cab. It has never been the reason I've missed a JFAO or OFA event or a hockey game (I played over 70 this year). I'd hoped to hold off and enjoy one last summer with it, but it was not to be. The rear end is showing the effects of feed haulage, and a local GM dealer happeend to have a great deal on a 2011 model with 4X4 and only 7500 km. It was a no brainer.  While she owed me nothing, it was time to move on. I look forward to 8-9 great years wit hthe new addition and can only wonder what things will look like when I go to truck number 3. Thank you old friend, I will miss you, but these memories will last a lifetime.