The View From Here

The 2025 wheat harvest recently wrapped up in western Kansas. My parents both taught school, but much of my childhood was spent with them farming as well. As a boy, wheat harvest meant picnics in the cab of an old truck, early morning trips to get parts, greasing the many fittings, fueling up our old Gleaner combine one 5-gallon can at a time, and, of course, dozens of trips to the Yocemento grain elevator. Once, when I must have been about 8 years old, Dad allowed me to steer the combine.

I remember feeling like I had the whole world in my hands as I guided the big, noisy machine across the landscape. I was quite certain I was a naturally gifted combine driver and wondered why I had never been given this chance before. After completing a full pass across the field, Dad stopped the combine and told me to turn around to look behind me. I knew he was going to tell me what an amazing job I had done. What I saw, to my dismay, was the most crooked line between the wheat stubble we had just cut and the ripe wheat in the next rows over. It turns out I had done some significant overcorrecting while managing the wheel.

I’ve obviously hung onto this lesson for a while. Even with Dad handling the speed, header height, eyeing the gauges, and watching and listening for anything that might indicate mechanical trouble, I struggled with the simple task of steering. What’s worse is I didn’t know how poorly I had done until the damage was done. The good news is the mistake was quickly erased the next time around the field, and the only lasting damage was to my ego. It made me realize, however, that we head down paths in life often thinking how well-prepared we are for a career, family, retirement, etc. only to look behind us and focus on the mistakes we’ve made. It turns out having someone in the cab with us that’s been around the field a time or two can make all the difference.