I've gotten behind in my journaling. It's been a month since my trip to Colorado Springs for Jake Duede's wedding, and I'm just now writing it up. Sarah and I had a nice drive across Nebraska to partake in the festivities and enjoyed the Air Force wedding over 4th of July weekend. Alicia and my parents were also there, so it was a good get together all around. Congrats Kate and Jake!
It was a big week in Winston last week, with my mom's birthday, my sisters coming home for their 10th and 20th reunions, the Townsend rodeo, and the family celebration of the 60th anniversary of the Cox Ranch this month. My Aunt Janet, Uncle Allen, and Janet's sister Nancy were also vacationing in Montana, so it was a busy week. All this, along with the usual ranch busy-ness of summer meant there was lots to do in just a few days. I apologize to many for not being able to visit quite as much as I like, my usual regret after a trip home. There will be a next time, I promise!
6/17/14
Quick Trip to Dillon
Two Tuesdays ago, Travis Koster and I started one of two driving days to Dillon to work on a mower conditioner. This was the first work trip I had gotten to take to Montana. As usual, we had to drive to take parts and tools. I've been getting familiar with the I-80, 29, I-90 route after several trips down in the last couple years. Travis had never been to Montana, a trip to Yellowstone as a kid notwithstanding. This is the prime time to be there in my opinion, and we both thoroughly enjoyed the drive.
We made the executive decision to stay in Bozeman on Wednesday night. Shepherd's Garage in Dillon wouldn't be open til 8 or so anyway, so there was plenty of time in the morning to get there. I told Travis my choices for food would be self-serving, but that I wouldn't disappoint. Mackenzie River with Chris and Jim, Jim's dad Roger, and my Grandma was great and as reliable as ever. I also relished stops at my old favorite bars.
This mower campaign was an update of mower conditioners that were launched last year. There was only one MC in Montana. The updates were substantial, but Travis had done several of them elsewhere and we got the job done in a day and a half. Finishing up at noon on Friday opened up the weekend nicely, and we made our way to Winston. I hadn't been home in seven months, and it was good to see my parents and the ranch.
Travis comes from western Iowa and has been around cattle, hogs, hay, and corn his entire life. Montana ranching is a bit different from that environment, and I tried to give him a taste of this whenever we weren't doing other Vermeer-related activities for my dad. Irrigating is mostly unnecessary east of the Missouri so our pivots, wheellines, handlines, and ditches were foreign to him. The scale of the pastures was also beyond what's seen in Iowa.
We stopped by Dave and Barb Clark's on Sunday on our way out. Travis is admittedly not a horseman, and I suspected he had gotten bored when the conversation drifted toward stockwhips, riding, and saddles. I later learned he had never heard such a conversation, and what stuck with him was that it could have happened an era ago with no difference. I'd secretly hoped he'd get that sort of experience. We rolled back to Iowa from there, stopping at King Ropes in Sheridan. I could have spent a full day wandering through all that tack.
Only a few days after getting back to Pella, Sarah and I backtracked to Mitchell, South Dakota for a wedding of a Vermeer engineer who grew up near there and recently moved back to work at Vermeer's Freeman facility. It was a great day, and great trip, and we were glad to be there. Our return to Pella topped 3600 miles for me in twelve days. Just five more weddings to go this summer...
We made the executive decision to stay in Bozeman on Wednesday night. Shepherd's Garage in Dillon wouldn't be open til 8 or so anyway, so there was plenty of time in the morning to get there. I told Travis my choices for food would be self-serving, but that I wouldn't disappoint. Mackenzie River with Chris and Jim, Jim's dad Roger, and my Grandma was great and as reliable as ever. I also relished stops at my old favorite bars.
This mower campaign was an update of mower conditioners that were launched last year. There was only one MC in Montana. The updates were substantial, but Travis had done several of them elsewhere and we got the job done in a day and a half. Finishing up at noon on Friday opened up the weekend nicely, and we made our way to Winston. I hadn't been home in seven months, and it was good to see my parents and the ranch.
Travis comes from western Iowa and has been around cattle, hogs, hay, and corn his entire life. Montana ranching is a bit different from that environment, and I tried to give him a taste of this whenever we weren't doing other Vermeer-related activities for my dad. Irrigating is mostly unnecessary east of the Missouri so our pivots, wheellines, handlines, and ditches were foreign to him. The scale of the pastures was also beyond what's seen in Iowa.
We stopped by Dave and Barb Clark's on Sunday on our way out. Travis is admittedly not a horseman, and I suspected he had gotten bored when the conversation drifted toward stockwhips, riding, and saddles. I later learned he had never heard such a conversation, and what stuck with him was that it could have happened an era ago with no difference. I'd secretly hoped he'd get that sort of experience. We rolled back to Iowa from there, stopping at King Ropes in Sheridan. I could have spent a full day wandering through all that tack.
Only a few days after getting back to Pella, Sarah and I backtracked to Mitchell, South Dakota for a wedding of a Vermeer engineer who grew up near there and recently moved back to work at Vermeer's Freeman facility. It was a great day, and great trip, and we were glad to be there. Our return to Pella topped 3600 miles for me in twelve days. Just five more weddings to go this summer...
4/14/14
All Around Georgia
With my bags barely unpacked from Ireland, I packed them again and headed to Georgia for a work trip last week, this time to ride around with regional manager Bryan Setzer, who oversees the territory managers in Texas and Louisiana and himself manages the territories in Florida, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, and part of Louisiana.
Riding with a TM is on my official list of goals for the year at work, to better understand their role at Vermeer and the scope of everything their title entails, to learn about regional markets around the country, and to meet a few of the dealers in those areas. I definitely did all of those things.
Bryan lives in Montgomery, Alabama, so my tour started there after an early flight on Monday. Montgomery has a great deal of history involving the civil war and civil rights movement. We drove to Cumming, Georgia afterward. We called on two dealers in the area the next day, stopped at a customer's place to help him set up a TM850, (editor's note: this customer happened to be Bill Elliott, the winningest NASCAR driver ever. He's also a very agreeable fellow) and hiked to Amicalola Falls, which is on the approach trail to Springer Mountain, the starting point to the Appalachian Trail. We met four dealers on Wednesday all over eastern GA, and wound down to St Simon's Island that night. After breakfast on Jekyll Island on Thursday, we made a long haul west to Elko to the aptly named Perfect Equipment, a long-time farmer-dealership. Though I'd known nothing about it before seeing it, we stopped at the Andersonville Civil War Prison Camp and National Cemetery. Learning about the unimaginably miserable conditions in a place where 12,900 people had suffered and died and seeing the resting place of those soldiers and those of other wars was very powerful. We made it back to Montgomery afterward, with a wander through the Auburn University campus. We'd covered 1440 miles in four days
The food on this trip was outstanding. Bryan has been doing this for years, so he knows all the best places. Georgia and Alabama offer both good barbecue and seafood. Gator tail and whole steamed shrimp on the Alabama River, listening to live blues out on the patio wrapped up the trip very well.
Being a TM is tough to imagine; 60,000 miles on the road a year, managing and dealing with scores of people, and keeping a handle on so many constantly changing ins-and-outs are all daunting tasks. I much better understand that end of the business after this educational trip.
Riding with a TM is on my official list of goals for the year at work, to better understand their role at Vermeer and the scope of everything their title entails, to learn about regional markets around the country, and to meet a few of the dealers in those areas. I definitely did all of those things.
Bryan lives in Montgomery, Alabama, so my tour started there after an early flight on Monday. Montgomery has a great deal of history involving the civil war and civil rights movement. We drove to Cumming, Georgia afterward. We called on two dealers in the area the next day, stopped at a customer's place to help him set up a TM850, (editor's note: this customer happened to be Bill Elliott, the winningest NASCAR driver ever. He's also a very agreeable fellow) and hiked to Amicalola Falls, which is on the approach trail to Springer Mountain, the starting point to the Appalachian Trail. We met four dealers on Wednesday all over eastern GA, and wound down to St Simon's Island that night. After breakfast on Jekyll Island on Thursday, we made a long haul west to Elko to the aptly named Perfect Equipment, a long-time farmer-dealership. Though I'd known nothing about it before seeing it, we stopped at the Andersonville Civil War Prison Camp and National Cemetery. Learning about the unimaginably miserable conditions in a place where 12,900 people had suffered and died and seeing the resting place of those soldiers and those of other wars was very powerful. We made it back to Montgomery afterward, with a wander through the Auburn University campus. We'd covered 1440 miles in four days
The food on this trip was outstanding. Bryan has been doing this for years, so he knows all the best places. Georgia and Alabama offer both good barbecue and seafood. Gator tail and whole steamed shrimp on the Alabama River, listening to live blues out on the patio wrapped up the trip very well.
Being a TM is tough to imagine; 60,000 miles on the road a year, managing and dealing with scores of people, and keeping a handle on so many constantly changing ins-and-outs are all daunting tasks. I much better understand that end of the business after this educational trip.
4/3/14
Trip to Ireland
Sarah and I got back from Ireland Tuesday night. We left the morning of the 26th, flew to Newark for a day-long layover. A bus and train ride took us to Hoboken where we toured Noah and Jean's new house, had a walk round town, had lunch, saw the New York skyline over the Hudson river, and watched Lydia play. It was a very short visit, but a day well spent.
After flying overnight with little sleep and getting picked up at the Dublin airport Thursday morning by David Kelly, we dropped our stuff off, got breakfast, cleaned up, and headed into Dublin. David had the day off so he showed us around. We braced for rain on the way to the city, but it quit after the twenty minute train ride; we were very lucky the entire trip as far as weather went: Saturday was a little damp, but it didn't rain otherwise. Thursday took us to Dublin Castle, St Patrick's Cathedral, the Old Jameson Distillery, then O'Connell and Grafton Streets. I was randomly picked to do a taste test of Irish whiskey versus Scotch and American whiskeys, and now proudly own a certificate of my accomplishment. We collapsed into two pubs on Baggott Street, which has several old "still as they were built" pubs, which were exactly what we were looking for. It was here that Sarah was introduced to proper Guinness, not the questionable stuff gotten in America, and she was instantly converted. She's also a fan of Irish coffees. After a full day of touring on next to no sleep, we collapsed into comas after having been awake for 37 hours.
David had to go to class for grad school on Friday, so we adventured on our own. A day-tour bus took us to various places. we went through the Irish Museum of Modern Art mostly because it was close to the Kilmainham Gaol. The jail had operated for 250 years and would have been a very foul place to be, and was even a step up compared to city life in the rougher times. Much Irish history had been affected by what had happened there and by who had gone through it.
The rest of the day was spent idly listening to the bus commentary, walking around the O'Connell and Grafton Street areas, having dinner together, and getting drinks with David and his wife Amy on Baggott Street. Another fine day.
We headed west on Saturday and had lunch with David's parents and brother Ciaran in Tober, Co Offaly in the center of the country. Sarah and I took the train to Galway afterward. Galway is on the west coast and is a city of about 75,000, much smaller than Dublin's 1.2 million. It's known for it's music and festivals and many pubs have music every night.
We headed out Saturday evening, including my fiddle, and stepped into Taaffe's bar which had a sign for music, and we were not disappointed. I asked the session leader if I could join, and the Seattle-native offered me a seat. I knew a few of their tunes, taught them one, and loved it. The leader invited me to another session a few blocks away across the river at the Crane Bar later that night.
The Crane Bar has two floors, and the upstairs is exclusively for nightly sessions. The place filled in after 10, including a nicely varied bunch of about a dozen players: younger at about my age, older to about 80; fiddles, banjos, flutes, a bouzouki, and a concertina. It was also supposedly a quiet night. There were songs sung as well. Nothing against bodhrans, but I particularly liked the rhythm kept by the stamping of the session leader's feet on the wood floor. I liked being part of a session in a place where everyone present was there for the music and what it evoked. I've missed sessions, and playing in these two have inspired me a great deal.
Sunday was a startlingly sunny day; indeed the best Galway had seen yet that year. We booked a day tour into Clare to see the Burren region and the Cliffs of Moher. I had no knowledge of the Burren before then, and was intrigued by its ruggedness, its surprising biodiversity, its history, its lack of touristiness. It is a hilly limestone region that is home to a majority of Ireland's biodiversity. The limestone allows its seven feet of rainfall to be absorbed into the ground, making it one of the driest places in Ireland in terms of surface water. Its stone fences are a practical relic from another time and are endearing. An ancient tower and an abbey were in the valley.
The tour took us to a farm in the Burren that covered 100 acres of pasture and 700 acres in the hills. Their Angus and Charolais cows grazed in the valleys in spring, summer, and fall, and wintered in the hills because the weather is that mild. The guide was local and had been formally trained in Irish history. One of the most poignant topics of the tour was the stone fences built over the hills, dividing nothing. Instead of putting their tenants to work doing any number of useful tasks to earn their soup rations during the potato famine, landlords had instead given them busy work. How terrible it would have been to barely survive a famine by performing menial, pointless labor.
The Cliffs of Moher are an often photographed icon of Ireland, but cannot be given justice unless seen with your own eyes. The 700 foot drop straight to the sea is truly awe-inspiring and just has to be taken in. Most of the five miles of the cliffs are a park and are fenced off, but part of them are not, so the edge is unguarded and available to anyone interested in peering right over the edge, namely me, to Sarah's disapproval.
After the lovely ride back along the coast, we found another session at the Tig Coili. This one was smaller but in one of the best-known music pubs in Ireland. I didn't know any of their tunes though, and they were just about wrapped up when we got there. We were exhausted after this anyway, after being out late the night before, the early rise for the tour, and the lost hour due to daylight savings. We were not thrilled to have caught the worst night of the year twice.
We went to mass Monday morning at Galway Cathedral, then walked along the pier and the busy Shop Street. We rode the train back to Dublin and spent a perfect last evening of the trip out to dinner with the Kellys. They were perfect hosts, and we enjoyed that they are in nearly the same spot in life as we are. David and I always seem to have plenty to talk about, and I thank him and Amy again for making my time in Ireland even better.
The flights back to Iowa were uneventful, and back to work on Wednesday, another adventure in the books and batch of stories collected.
After flying overnight with little sleep and getting picked up at the Dublin airport Thursday morning by David Kelly, we dropped our stuff off, got breakfast, cleaned up, and headed into Dublin. David had the day off so he showed us around. We braced for rain on the way to the city, but it quit after the twenty minute train ride; we were very lucky the entire trip as far as weather went: Saturday was a little damp, but it didn't rain otherwise. Thursday took us to Dublin Castle, St Patrick's Cathedral, the Old Jameson Distillery, then O'Connell and Grafton Streets. I was randomly picked to do a taste test of Irish whiskey versus Scotch and American whiskeys, and now proudly own a certificate of my accomplishment. We collapsed into two pubs on Baggott Street, which has several old "still as they were built" pubs, which were exactly what we were looking for. It was here that Sarah was introduced to proper Guinness, not the questionable stuff gotten in America, and she was instantly converted. She's also a fan of Irish coffees. After a full day of touring on next to no sleep, we collapsed into comas after having been awake for 37 hours.
David had to go to class for grad school on Friday, so we adventured on our own. A day-tour bus took us to various places. we went through the Irish Museum of Modern Art mostly because it was close to the Kilmainham Gaol. The jail had operated for 250 years and would have been a very foul place to be, and was even a step up compared to city life in the rougher times. Much Irish history had been affected by what had happened there and by who had gone through it.
The rest of the day was spent idly listening to the bus commentary, walking around the O'Connell and Grafton Street areas, having dinner together, and getting drinks with David and his wife Amy on Baggott Street. Another fine day.
We headed west on Saturday and had lunch with David's parents and brother Ciaran in Tober, Co Offaly in the center of the country. Sarah and I took the train to Galway afterward. Galway is on the west coast and is a city of about 75,000, much smaller than Dublin's 1.2 million. It's known for it's music and festivals and many pubs have music every night.
We headed out Saturday evening, including my fiddle, and stepped into Taaffe's bar which had a sign for music, and we were not disappointed. I asked the session leader if I could join, and the Seattle-native offered me a seat. I knew a few of their tunes, taught them one, and loved it. The leader invited me to another session a few blocks away across the river at the Crane Bar later that night.
The Crane Bar has two floors, and the upstairs is exclusively for nightly sessions. The place filled in after 10, including a nicely varied bunch of about a dozen players: younger at about my age, older to about 80; fiddles, banjos, flutes, a bouzouki, and a concertina. It was also supposedly a quiet night. There were songs sung as well. Nothing against bodhrans, but I particularly liked the rhythm kept by the stamping of the session leader's feet on the wood floor. I liked being part of a session in a place where everyone present was there for the music and what it evoked. I've missed sessions, and playing in these two have inspired me a great deal.
Sunday was a startlingly sunny day; indeed the best Galway had seen yet that year. We booked a day tour into Clare to see the Burren region and the Cliffs of Moher. I had no knowledge of the Burren before then, and was intrigued by its ruggedness, its surprising biodiversity, its history, its lack of touristiness. It is a hilly limestone region that is home to a majority of Ireland's biodiversity. The limestone allows its seven feet of rainfall to be absorbed into the ground, making it one of the driest places in Ireland in terms of surface water. Its stone fences are a practical relic from another time and are endearing. An ancient tower and an abbey were in the valley.
The tour took us to a farm in the Burren that covered 100 acres of pasture and 700 acres in the hills. Their Angus and Charolais cows grazed in the valleys in spring, summer, and fall, and wintered in the hills because the weather is that mild. The guide was local and had been formally trained in Irish history. One of the most poignant topics of the tour was the stone fences built over the hills, dividing nothing. Instead of putting their tenants to work doing any number of useful tasks to earn their soup rations during the potato famine, landlords had instead given them busy work. How terrible it would have been to barely survive a famine by performing menial, pointless labor.
The Cliffs of Moher are an often photographed icon of Ireland, but cannot be given justice unless seen with your own eyes. The 700 foot drop straight to the sea is truly awe-inspiring and just has to be taken in. Most of the five miles of the cliffs are a park and are fenced off, but part of them are not, so the edge is unguarded and available to anyone interested in peering right over the edge, namely me, to Sarah's disapproval.
After the lovely ride back along the coast, we found another session at the Tig Coili. This one was smaller but in one of the best-known music pubs in Ireland. I didn't know any of their tunes though, and they were just about wrapped up when we got there. We were exhausted after this anyway, after being out late the night before, the early rise for the tour, and the lost hour due to daylight savings. We were not thrilled to have caught the worst night of the year twice.
We went to mass Monday morning at Galway Cathedral, then walked along the pier and the busy Shop Street. We rode the train back to Dublin and spent a perfect last evening of the trip out to dinner with the Kellys. They were perfect hosts, and we enjoyed that they are in nearly the same spot in life as we are. David and I always seem to have plenty to talk about, and I thank him and Amy again for making my time in Ireland even better.
The flights back to Iowa were uneventful, and back to work on Wednesday, another adventure in the books and batch of stories collected.
3/23/14
On Our Way to Ireland
Sarah and I are leaving for Ireland on Wednesday! After missing Mr David Kelly's wedding last August to be at my parents' anniversary, I had made it a priority to go visit. We can only be gone a week due to our limited time off from work, but we are going nonetheless! David and his wife live in Dublin so we will spend some time there, and in Galway in the west, but not in Belfast this trip.
As for everyday activities, I've been liking my role as an enhancement engineer. I deal with a lot of people, touch all of Vermeer's forage products, and generally feel satisfied with what I'm doing. I feel like my activities have a much more immediate impact than they did as a new product engineer.
Iowa has had what they consider a long winter, with snow into the second week of March or so. I scratch my head at what they'd think of Montana's regularly long winters; I distinctly remember many years where snow continued into May or even twice into June, and one semester with snow every single week, including during finals. And that's not even considering the early starts to the winters. Everyone also seems to have forgotten that it snowed here last May. In any case, we seem to have turned a corner, and it is more pleasant lately.
I've finished two more stockwhips this year, one going to Jesse Munk, and another that I intend to keep. I've got a kangaroo hide that will get cut up and braided after the trip. To test out the roohide, I made Sarah a one-of-a-kind roohide bracelet for Valentine's Day.
Stay tuned for forthcoming stories about my return to Ireland!
1/15/14
Christmas and a Job Change
This is long overdue. I went home mid-December for a week to celebrate the life of Olive Robison, the late mother of my uncle Jim. I was glad to have been able to know her, and to have spent time with the Robisons at that time, especially right before Christmas. I hadn't seen my cousins Emily and Noah in several months and two years respectively, and wouldn't have otherwise because Sarah and I had already made plans to meet my parents in Arizona to spend Christmas with my sisters. Much catching up was done in just a couple days, then I went to the ranch. It's a quieter time of year there, and I happily relieved my dad from a few days of feeding, which he seldom gets a break from for six months a year. I had brought my fiddle because I couldn't have shown up to a Robison gathering without one, and got one evening of playing in with the Helena crowd, thankfully at a slow, closed session where my out of practice fiddle couldn't be heard by the general public. They always welcome me back like I haven't been gone at all. My friend Dan Boyce met me for a couple beers and his company was as good as could be asked for, as always. Somehow without weather delays, I made it back to Iowa.
After two very pleasant days spent in southeast Iowa with Sarah's family for their Christmas, we each worked one day, then flew to Phoenix that night. We spent the week with my parents, sisters, Aaron, Elayna, and Brian, spending overdue time with each other in ACE's massive new house, cooking, hiking in the hills in and around Phoenix, bowling, watching E do things, taking in a Suns game, playing games around ACE's backyard firepit, riding segways, and going to interesting restaurants. The latter included sushi, a semi-famous breakfast place, and a Mexican-Chinese mashup. The Arizona winter was also appreciated by those who'd come south. Sarah and I regrettably had to endure late night/early morning flights (direct 2:30am return), but otherwise our travels went smoothly.
I've accepted a different role at work. A spot in the enhancement group, which is in the same office but deals with production problems and changes to current products, opened at the end of the year. My workload for Brazil-related things had dwindled to very little, and I felt the need for a change. I am in the middle of my second week, and all is well so far.
I am taking advantage of the indoor weather this winter by working on a couple braiding projects. I am just about done with a stockwhip handle, which will eventually go to Jesse Munk, whose place in enhancement I took after he moved to Parts Center. It's nice to not travel for a little while, after being gone for more than half of December.
After two very pleasant days spent in southeast Iowa with Sarah's family for their Christmas, we each worked one day, then flew to Phoenix that night. We spent the week with my parents, sisters, Aaron, Elayna, and Brian, spending overdue time with each other in ACE's massive new house, cooking, hiking in the hills in and around Phoenix, bowling, watching E do things, taking in a Suns game, playing games around ACE's backyard firepit, riding segways, and going to interesting restaurants. The latter included sushi, a semi-famous breakfast place, and a Mexican-Chinese mashup. The Arizona winter was also appreciated by those who'd come south. Sarah and I regrettably had to endure late night/early morning flights (direct 2:30am return), but otherwise our travels went smoothly.
I've accepted a different role at work. A spot in the enhancement group, which is in the same office but deals with production problems and changes to current products, opened at the end of the year. My workload for Brazil-related things had dwindled to very little, and I felt the need for a change. I am in the middle of my second week, and all is well so far.
I am taking advantage of the indoor weather this winter by working on a couple braiding projects. I am just about done with a stockwhip handle, which will eventually go to Jesse Munk, whose place in enhancement I took after he moved to Parts Center. It's nice to not travel for a little while, after being gone for more than half of December.
11/19/13
Brazil
I've just returned from my first trip to Brazil. I spent eight days of a ten day trip in the south of the country in a town called Ipaussu, which is in the middle of a large sugar cane area.
This trip was brought about as a result of my reassignment at work away from mower design into biomass related applications. As I typically do, I'll stay scant on the details, but the purpose of this trip was to help determine certain options for Vermeer in a developing market. I've been told the change is only temporary and I'll be back to the mower group in a year or so.
I had known I would be going to Brazil since my reassignment the second week in October, and the company began helping me apply for my visa, which takes several weeks. I'd expected to be going this week, but was told on the afternoon of the 5th that the visa would arrive the morning of the 6th, and to pack my bags. Just as an FYI, I believe my MSU tuition for a semester cost roughly the same as a day-of plane ticket from Des Moines to Sao Paulo.
I flew through O'Hare to Sao Paulo overnight, which took 10.5 hours, was driven to Vermeer Latin America in a nearby town called Valinhos, then caught a bus and rode for six hours to the largest town close to where our demonstration was taking place. I was told when I got on the bus to be sure I got off at the right place, or I'd wind up in Paraguay, a warning I'd never had aimed at me before. After another 45 minutes or so, I arrived in my first sugar cane field at 10:30 pm on the night of the 7th, after 28 hours or so of travel. The logic behind not letting me just go to bed made me scratch my head.
The Vermeer equipment for this demonstration was supported by about four VLA service personnel, Harold Gorter, who had managed the service department in Pella for forty years before moving to international sales, and myself. Two engineering technicians from Pella had also been there the preceding weeks.
I monitored and learned about the piece of equipment I had traveled there to see and to make function, but the majority of my time was spent working on balers. I commented to Harold at one point that I hadn't worked on balers so much since before I worked at Vermeer. Cliff Cox, it can be said your knowledge went to work in Brazil.
It's mid-spring in Brazil right now so it's the start of their "wet" season. It was in the 90s every day, and we saw no rain except for a sprinkle Monday afternoon. It was quite dry, and very dusty. The soil in that area was rust red, fine as flour, and got into and stuck to everything. This was hard on both man and machine. Clothes were instantly dirty once you got to the field and faces were comically filthy within minutes. I've never scrubbed off so much dirt in a shower only to still leave the towel brown. It's also proving to be stubborn if not impossible to get out of my clothes.
Tools were scarce. The VLA guys had some tools provided by the company, but these were pretty basic. We had no chains, no blocking, no pneumatic or electric impacts, no jacks, and no pry bars. We did everything out in the field in the rusty dirt. There was an old hacksaw blade in the toolbox that I used a surprising amount, most importantly to cut new threads on a worn but critical SAE bolt for which we had no hope of finding a replacement. A very helpful operator handed me a prison-shank-like sharpened piece of plate steel that I constantly used to cut net wrap out of pickups and off of rollers. I had thought ahead enough to bring my Leatherman, and was glad for it.
This was my first trip to a non-English speaking country. I don't count the Netherlands because almost everybody there spoke English. We were always with English speakers in the field to help get our points across to the locals with whom we worked, but Harold and I still did a fair amount of arm waving. I used every bit of broken Spanish I knew in the hopes something might match up, and it occasionally did. I didn't have too hard a time getting my point across in some way or another, though in the few times I was not understood, I felt a bit like a little kid. It gives some empathy for others in that situation.
I generally got along with everyone I dealt with. One Brazilian technician I talked to every day spoke some English and told me to 'speak in English. We like it.' Like most other Brazilians, he greeted us every morning with a good handshake, a slap on the back, and a 'bom dia!' (good morning!). He and I would teach each other a few words here and there. Our last day in the field, he asked to look at my Leatherman. Such tools are hard to come by in Brazil and expensive if you can find them. I had meant to leave it with him, because he needs it more than I do. My biggest regret of the trip was being off somewhere when the shift changed in the afternoon and I missed him before he left.
The two technicians from Pella had both gotten sick on their trips, so I was a little leery. I never got sick from drinking yellow rain water in Australia, and still don't understand how, but I nonetheless steered clear of tap water in Brazil, and never ate fresh fruits or vegetables for fear of how they were or weren't washed. Aside from a belly ache one night, I never got sick, which seems like an accomplishment.
Long days were spent in the field all week, but no one works on Sunday. Herb Waldhuetter from VLA graciously drove us into the hillier country south of where we had been working to see the coffee, cattle, lakes, and rivers. We had lunch at a restaurant on a deck by a waterfall, something I hadn't expected.
The demo ended Wednesday, and Harold's and my ride took us back to Valinhos on Thursday. My flight didn't leave until Friday evening, so I explored the area around my hotel for a few hours without incident. Herb took me to a Brazilian steak house my last night there, which had been the one item on my Brazilian to-do list. Twenty-one cuts of beef were offered to us on skewers by waiters, along with lamb, chicken, and wild boar. We were nearing meat comas when we left. It was everything I'd ever dreamed of.
There are plenty of other stories from this trip, but this post is getting plenty long. Drop me a line and I'll share some more.
It wasn't an easy trip, but I accomplished what I needed to, didn't get hurt, sick,or lost, and collected some more stories. I haven't experienced that much in ten days in quite awhile.
This trip was brought about as a result of my reassignment at work away from mower design into biomass related applications. As I typically do, I'll stay scant on the details, but the purpose of this trip was to help determine certain options for Vermeer in a developing market. I've been told the change is only temporary and I'll be back to the mower group in a year or so.
I had known I would be going to Brazil since my reassignment the second week in October, and the company began helping me apply for my visa, which takes several weeks. I'd expected to be going this week, but was told on the afternoon of the 5th that the visa would arrive the morning of the 6th, and to pack my bags. Just as an FYI, I believe my MSU tuition for a semester cost roughly the same as a day-of plane ticket from Des Moines to Sao Paulo.
I flew through O'Hare to Sao Paulo overnight, which took 10.5 hours, was driven to Vermeer Latin America in a nearby town called Valinhos, then caught a bus and rode for six hours to the largest town close to where our demonstration was taking place. I was told when I got on the bus to be sure I got off at the right place, or I'd wind up in Paraguay, a warning I'd never had aimed at me before. After another 45 minutes or so, I arrived in my first sugar cane field at 10:30 pm on the night of the 7th, after 28 hours or so of travel. The logic behind not letting me just go to bed made me scratch my head.
The Vermeer equipment for this demonstration was supported by about four VLA service personnel, Harold Gorter, who had managed the service department in Pella for forty years before moving to international sales, and myself. Two engineering technicians from Pella had also been there the preceding weeks.
I monitored and learned about the piece of equipment I had traveled there to see and to make function, but the majority of my time was spent working on balers. I commented to Harold at one point that I hadn't worked on balers so much since before I worked at Vermeer. Cliff Cox, it can be said your knowledge went to work in Brazil.
It's mid-spring in Brazil right now so it's the start of their "wet" season. It was in the 90s every day, and we saw no rain except for a sprinkle Monday afternoon. It was quite dry, and very dusty. The soil in that area was rust red, fine as flour, and got into and stuck to everything. This was hard on both man and machine. Clothes were instantly dirty once you got to the field and faces were comically filthy within minutes. I've never scrubbed off so much dirt in a shower only to still leave the towel brown. It's also proving to be stubborn if not impossible to get out of my clothes.
Tools were scarce. The VLA guys had some tools provided by the company, but these were pretty basic. We had no chains, no blocking, no pneumatic or electric impacts, no jacks, and no pry bars. We did everything out in the field in the rusty dirt. There was an old hacksaw blade in the toolbox that I used a surprising amount, most importantly to cut new threads on a worn but critical SAE bolt for which we had no hope of finding a replacement. A very helpful operator handed me a prison-shank-like sharpened piece of plate steel that I constantly used to cut net wrap out of pickups and off of rollers. I had thought ahead enough to bring my Leatherman, and was glad for it.
This was my first trip to a non-English speaking country. I don't count the Netherlands because almost everybody there spoke English. We were always with English speakers in the field to help get our points across to the locals with whom we worked, but Harold and I still did a fair amount of arm waving. I used every bit of broken Spanish I knew in the hopes something might match up, and it occasionally did. I didn't have too hard a time getting my point across in some way or another, though in the few times I was not understood, I felt a bit like a little kid. It gives some empathy for others in that situation.
I generally got along with everyone I dealt with. One Brazilian technician I talked to every day spoke some English and told me to 'speak in English. We like it.' Like most other Brazilians, he greeted us every morning with a good handshake, a slap on the back, and a 'bom dia!' (good morning!). He and I would teach each other a few words here and there. Our last day in the field, he asked to look at my Leatherman. Such tools are hard to come by in Brazil and expensive if you can find them. I had meant to leave it with him, because he needs it more than I do. My biggest regret of the trip was being off somewhere when the shift changed in the afternoon and I missed him before he left.
The two technicians from Pella had both gotten sick on their trips, so I was a little leery. I never got sick from drinking yellow rain water in Australia, and still don't understand how, but I nonetheless steered clear of tap water in Brazil, and never ate fresh fruits or vegetables for fear of how they were or weren't washed. Aside from a belly ache one night, I never got sick, which seems like an accomplishment.
Long days were spent in the field all week, but no one works on Sunday. Herb Waldhuetter from VLA graciously drove us into the hillier country south of where we had been working to see the coffee, cattle, lakes, and rivers. We had lunch at a restaurant on a deck by a waterfall, something I hadn't expected.
The demo ended Wednesday, and Harold's and my ride took us back to Valinhos on Thursday. My flight didn't leave until Friday evening, so I explored the area around my hotel for a few hours without incident. Herb took me to a Brazilian steak house my last night there, which had been the one item on my Brazilian to-do list. Twenty-one cuts of beef were offered to us on skewers by waiters, along with lamb, chicken, and wild boar. We were nearing meat comas when we left. It was everything I'd ever dreamed of.
There are plenty of other stories from this trip, but this post is getting plenty long. Drop me a line and I'll share some more.
It wasn't an easy trip, but I accomplished what I needed to, didn't get hurt, sick,or lost, and collected some more stories. I haven't experienced that much in ten days in quite awhile.
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