On the Great Iowa Tractor Ride: Part 1
The wind-driven rain was horizontal, stinging our faces, and numbing my hands gripping the steering wheel. Peeking through the hood of my raincoat, I wasn’t sure if there was hail mixed in with the rain or not. Then I saw a white pellet strike my rain suit. Yep, hail.
Even farmers don’t work in this stuff! They go to the barn, or into town for a haircut.
Then the sun poked through, the wind and rain died down, and the great green rolling Loess Hills shown through in all its Iowa splendor. I looked at Mary beside me in the double seat.
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