Nothing screams summer like the county fair.
I’ve been to a lot of county fairs in my life. To be fair, I’ve lived in a lot of counties in my life. And while they all tend to be pretty much the same – livestock exhibits, carnival rides, fried food, musical entertainment – I had never witnessed a tractor pull before.
I had no idea I was missing out on something so thrilling!
Wednesday evening, after clocking out, Tara and I headed for the Jefferson County Fair. It was opening day and we were stoked. We’d gone last year and had a blast. How can you go wrong with pigs and goats and corn dogs?
(Trick question. You can’t.)
This year, the grandstand was featuring a tractor pull contest on opening night. Tara asked if I wanted to check it out, and I shrugged my shoulders. Like demolition derbies and monster truck rallies, I have little interest in motorized mayhem. Those types of events seem like they are custom-made for a different demographic, e.g., rednecks. No offense to rednecks; I married one! But I am nothing if not open-minded, so I said, “Why not?”
We grabbed a spot on the bleachers and settled in. The first tractor rumbled up to the starting line, a flag was waved, the engine roared to life…
…and, holy shit!, that souped-up beast took off with an ear-splitting scream as it hurtled down the track, hitched to a weighted-down trailer. The ground shook, flames shot out of the exhaust, a thick cloud of black smoke billowed into the air, and it was so loud it sounded like Godzilla participating in a cage match with a freight train and a tornado. And then the driver did a freakin’ wheelie, front wheels aimed at the sky like like he was Evel f-in’ Knievel. Are you kidding me?! I’d had no idea what to expect, but I can tell you, I was not expecting anything like that.
I’ve always thought tractors were pretty cool. Turns out they can do a helluva lot more than push dirt around.
It was all over in less than 30 seconds, but from that moment on, I was hooked. We stayed for about an hour, watching one customized tractor after another pull a heavy drag the length of the 100-meter track at breakneck speed. It never grew old.
What a rush. My adrenaline was racing. You know that scene in Castaway, where Tom Hanks starts dancing around, feeling all manly because he made fire? I experienced a similar testosterone high watching those tractors, and I was just a spectator.
This wasn’t something I thought I would even remotely be interested in, but now I want to become a tractor pull regular. Hell, I want to pull a tractor myself! Sitting in the bleachers, the wheels began turning in my head. Tara must know me really well, because she recognized the dreamy look in my eyes and said, “No, babe, it won’t work with a John Deere lawn tractor.”
What a killjoy.
We spent another couple of hours wandering around the fair, doing all the usual fair things. We looked at 4-H exhibits. Wandered the midway. Got a few bites to eat. By the time we drove home, the sky was alight with thousands of fireflies.
All in all, not a bad way to spend a weeknight.
While the tractor pull may have unleashed my inner alpha male, this afternoon I more closely resembled Betty Crocker.
Am I a walking contradiction or what?
Here’s the thing. Our orchard isn’t only filled with raspberries. We also have an abundance of red currants. Which, if you’ve never tried one, aren’t really edible on their own. I mean yes, you can eat them…but prepare to pucker up, ’cause those bad boys are sour.
Last year, we didn’t do anything with them, because we didn’t know what to do with them. There aren’t a lot of red currant recipes online other than jams – and where’s the fun in that? But I was determined not to let them go to waste this year, and eventually, found this recipe for red currant crumb bars. Now, I always tell people “I’m no baker” – that’s Tara’s domain – but it’s not because I can’t; I just don’t.
Today I did.
Even busted out Tara’s KitchenAid stand mixer. It’s a wonder I even know how to attach the…err…attachments. But damned if the bars didn’t turn out perfectly. They’re moist like a cake but not overly sweet: just enough to tame the tartness of the currants.
Honestly, they’re delicious, and I’m kinda surprised myself at how well they turned out.
I tried to keep my baking plans a secret from Tara, but like the Bombas, she was onto me the moment I emerged from the garden with a giant container full of red currants. I popped one into my mouth like eating them raw was my plan all along, but the grimace on my face gave me away.
That’s okay. Not everything has to be hush-hush.
This weekend we have vowed not to do any yard work. It’s going to push into the 90s anyway and the humidity is about to soar, so instead, we’re finally planning on breaking out the kayaks. We’d already been out on the water a couple of times by this point last year, but also, we weren’t busting our asses every weekend in the backyard.
Ever been to a tractor pull? Have you tried currants? Did you have any idea I was such a Renaissance man?
Mark My Words 
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