2—Lancaster Farming, Saturday, August 30,1979
Silo filling - hectic but fun
WOODBINE It won’t b 6 long now before the
hum and roar of tractors, choppers and forage
blowers fills the air again.
Bringing in the corn has always been one of my
favorite jobs and even now away from the farm
I look forward to days when I can help with the
work.
I remember the whirling knives, choked
goosenecks, squealing belts and roaring engines
when we filled silos at home. There were some
frustrations from time to time, but overall, the only
thing I didn’t like about it was that it meant winter
wasn’t too far away. I recall those good old days
vividly.
September mornings aren’t by any means cold in
this southern York County village, but the
mugginess of July and August is absent now during
the early part of the day. We won't have a good
frost until late October, or even early November.
The steady humming of forage harvesters and
blowers can be heard from several directions
before the fog has lifted, and occasionally even
before the sun appears over the hill at the eastern
boundary of our farm. I recognize some of the
choppers to be the old fly-wheel type, and some to*
be thejiewer ones with cylindrical cutterheads, by
the distinctive noise each makes.
The distant songs of the choppers makes me
want to get started too, but our corn isn’t ready yet.
Maybe in a week or so. Besides, the milking
machines haven’t been washed yet and the heifers
need some gram
After breakfast I hop aboard “Big John,” our
b-ggest tractor, and drive over to the old barn to
get the chopper and forage wagons. The wagons
look pretty good, we had used them throughout
the summer to haul some hay or straw, but that
poor chopper will need a real thorough cleaning.
It isn't long before I have the chopper running
like a Swiss watch cleaned, oiled, greased and
ready to swallow all the corn stalks I’ll later force
into it.
Next job is to attach the blower pipe to the
receiving end of the stationary gooseneck inside
the silo. I remember the first time I had to do that,
55 feet up in the air I was sweating without
doing a thing. Now there was nothing to it
Marvin Sliver, our hired man, pushed the clutch
in gently on his “620” and the blower pipe made a
slow ascent to the top, where I was waiting to
clamp it to the gooseneck.
With the blower in place and stabilized to insure
smooth performance, all we have to do now is
mount the distributor and wait for the corn to get
ready.
Crawling up the chute of the silo after thousands
of spiders and dozens of pigeons had done their
work is no joy. It’s amazing how fast they can mess
things up when silage is not being thrown down the
chute daily. Installing the distributor was not
exactly fun either. It meant having to haul up a
heavy, and rather large contraption which had to
be completely assembled below. It rested on the
silo wall and stretched out towards the center, just
below the gooseneck.
Several days later we're all set to go. The sharp
knives of the chopper are already whirling as I
approach the corn field with my 54-foot long
“train" of tractor, chopper, and wagon. “Big John"
has his work cut out for him now, but he won’t
disappoint me.
Corn stalks are being chopped up by the
thousands. It amazes me. The power. The speed. I
know what kind of job it is to cut corn by hand when
we open up a field or cut along fence rows and
woods and I appreciate just riding along, wat
ching the wagon fill up with chopped corn. The
sounds of the operation are music to my ears. Bits
of cobs hit the spout like a thousand drummers
tapping feverishly; there’s a low, steady grumble;
and the rapid pounding of tw6 gallon-jug-sized
cylinders. The smell of chopped corn is fresh and
sweet.
Marvin hauls each load to the silo and is kept
busy emptying the wagons before the next one is
loaded. Our utility tractor has its throttle wide
open and throws silage to the top of the silo with
power to spare. Once in a while a mass of silage
tumbles over the beaters and is whisked into the
blower. That can make you miss a heartbeat as you
anticipate the pipe being clogged, but usually the
blower just slows down for a moment, the tractor
engine strains, and then speeds up again, howling
as it did before.
With the exception of tightening a chain or two
and replacing a belt that came off, it's a smooth
operation. The weather is good too. 1 enjoy the
warm sunshine as row after row of corn is
devoured by the harvester.
Milking time is one of the few times the equip
ment gets a rest. The rig coasts to its resting place
behind the house. “Big John’s” two cylinders are
now just idling at a pace not much quicker than a
man’s heartbeat. There’s a slight jolt as the full
load of silage exerts its force when the tractor is
stopped.
After milking I normally eat supper, but during
silo filling time it is often replaced by a quick snack
taken on the run. On some evenings Marvin and I
would work until 10 p.m. making use of our time
now, knowing that sooner or later something would
happen which causes us to lose half a day or more.
Besides regular maintenance of all equipment,
including the distributor inside the silo, time is also
used up by such things as flat tires, knife shar
pening, the replacement of a bearing, and filling in
a gully on the hill. There’s a lot of equipment un
dergoing tremendous stress right now and a lot can
happen.
In past years we’ve had the misfortune of a
twisted or even broken tongue on the chopper;
and a knife that worked itself loose and ... The
latter incident wasn’t as bad as I expected when I
heard it happen. The machine could have been
ruined, but it took only two new parts and a patch
in the curve of the spout.
It takes about three weeks to fill the silos. Fields
were planted to allow for plenty of time for this job.
By the time a silo was full, it really was full it
wouldn't settle more than a few feet. With no crops
other than corn to be concerned with, we didn’t
have to be as rushed with the job as many other
dairymen.
The day the silos were full found me with mixed
emotions. The work had been hectic and tiring
enough to be glad it was over. But it had also been
fun.
Sitting by the silo's shiny metal roof, I look out
across the fields most of which are bare now.
They looked better when they were green. It is a
sign that the summer is almost over, although
you'd never know it sitting on top of the silo where
the heat from fermented silage engulfed you and
swarms of insects, including wasps, were attracted
by the scent.
About 37 acres of corn will be left to pick. We’ll
soon be starting that too, I say to myself as I get
back to levelling the silage. As usual, we didn’t stop
filling until there was a "mountain” of silage in the
silo which was a good six feet higher than the
staves of each of our two 18 x 55’s. The distributor
had been.taken out long ago By the time I have it
all leveled off, the crown of the pile is only about
two feet above the silo wall.
I’m glad the job is done, but I’m also looking
forward to it again next year. The chopper and
blower are thoroughly lubricated and put to rest
for the next 11 months. It seems like a long time,
but between now and then there’s much to do
which will make time fly. And that includes listening
to Nittany Lion football games.