Dad's Haymow Secret

“Keep 'em coming, Scotty,” Dale Henning called from his perch in the north haymow. “We've got two more wagons to mow.”

Eleven-year-old Scott nodded as he plunged the long john into another fresh alfalfa bale and yanked it from the pile in the wooden hay wagon. He dragged the bale the six feet to the side opening of the wagon and set it cut side down on the conveyor. The long john was a bale hook that measured about two and a half feet from the handle to the hook. The hay wagon was a flat bed wagon with nine foot high sides. The front of the wagon was wide open so the small, square bales could be thrown into the wagon with the kicker on the baler. There was a four foot wide opening that went from the wagon floor all the way to the top of the wagon enclosure that was closed up with chains during baling so that the bales stayed in the wagon. During the unloading process, the chains were unhooked so that the wagon could be pulled up to the conveyor and unloaded from the side.

Dale would usually pull out enough of the bales to create a small platform around the lower end of the conveyor so that Scott had enough room to work. Scott's job was to send the bales up the conveyor where they would sometimes roll off the end and hit another strategically placed bale and bounce towards the stackers. Most of the time, his older brother Caleb would just grab the bale with one of the small hooks and carry it over to their father. 

Dale was the mow master. He grabbed the bale with a bale hook in one hand and nothing in the other. He slammed the bale into place, always cut side up, using both his arms and his knees to ensure tight stack. Each layer alternated bale orientation to ensure a well interlocked stack. The bale stacks had to be built just right because they went all the way from the floor of the barn to the rafters of the roof which was at least twenty five feet to the top of the wall and a good ten feet further to the peak of the roof. 

It was a hot day, and mowing bales tended to be sweaty work, but the three Hennings made relatively short work of the three loads of hay. When Scott got one wagon empty, Dale would pull it out and back the next one in. They'd each take a swig of water from a shared cooler and get back to work. Within a few hours, every bale was mowed. Dale and Caleb took a seat in the mow and surveyed their work.

“Scott,” Dale called down to his younger son. “Why don't you grab the water and join us for a moment?”

“Sure thing,” Scott replied.

He took a quick drink and unplugged the conveyor. He climbed up the old built-in mow ladder and joined his brother and his dad. The two older Hennings drank deeply as the younger “inspected” their work.

“Looks good,” he joked with a wry smile on his face.

“Thanks, Scotty,” Dale responded with matching humor. “A solid haymow is certainly something to be proud of.” 

He stood up and walked to the north wall of the mow. He reached down and pulled up a bale, set it to the side and turned back to the boys.

“I'm particularly proud of this part.” he stated as he gestured towards the hay. “Well, come check it out.”

The boys got up and walked over to where their dad was. They looked in the direction he was pointing and were completely surprised at what they found. At their feet was a two foot by three foot opening that led into a hidden room.

“Well,” their father pressed. “Check it out.”

The brothers smiled at each other and scrambled through the opening. The room was surprisingly large. It was about five feet tall, four feet wide, and ran half the width of the haymow. The vertical gaps in between the rough-sawn barn siding provided a surprising amount of light. The boys sat down on the foot wide, built it bench and peered through the gaps at the roof of the lower stall barn below.

“This is so sweet,” Caleb exclaimed as their dad smiled from above.

“Glad you like it,” Dale called down. “I'm heading to the house. Be there in a half hour for dinner.”

“How did you not see him making this while you were up here?” Scott inquired if his older brother as their dad walked down the conveyor. “You were less than ten feet away from him the whole time.”

“I have no idea,” Caleb responded. “But what's that saying? Don't gift a look horse in the mouth?”

“Something like that,” Scott replies with a giggle. “This is so much cooler than anything we've ever built.”

The brothers spent a few minutes chatting about what they were going to do in their brand new, parent sanctioned, bale fort until they glanced at their wrist watches and decided that it was time to get to the house for dinner.