Full Steam at Somerset

 Finally, the date for the long awaited Pasture Party in Somerset, VA rolled around. Elliott and I drove down on a perfect, cloudy, warm day, with a dappled drab sky above us, ideal for capturing plumes of smoke and steam scrolling across the fields. Also we'd be meeting up with Rob, who I haven't seen since COVID, so I was looking forward to seeing my old friend enormously.

We were there by 10:30 and already the fields were throbbing with steam engines and vintage tractors rolling around, crowds of people meandering in and out of their way, pop pop engines snapping their reports across the grass, and the wondrous aroma of coal smoke drifting across in clouds.

Naturally, the first items on my agenda were the steam engines, iron giants lined up in a row, and seemingly aware of their dominance at this event, big, black and beautiful, chugging out puffs of coal smoke and emitting shrill whistles, ensuring people would be drawn to them to pay homage to their majestic countenances. Which we did.

 

Elliott and I were wandering among the steam engines when I looked over and spotted Robin Roberts in a golf cart. We saw each other at the same time and I rushed over, grinning hugely, so pleased to see her again after such a long time. I asked Elliott to take a photo of us both and jumped in the cart next to her. Elliott lifted his camera, but then his face clouded over, not knowing who was standing behind us with arms outstretched and beaming at the camera. I looked over my shoulder, and it was Rob photo bombing us!  It made a great picture, and we had a lot of laughs. Robin had to drive off to meet a reporter and disappeared into the crowd, leaving the 3 of us to continue giggling at how we'd all met up. And then it was time to continue roaming the field; there was so much to see.

I've always loved this show. The setting is perfect for this antique machinery, rustic and rural, with many folks dressed in their coveralls and blue striped shirts, the ambience felt as if we had stepped back in time, with very little evidence that we were in fact in 2022.  Across the large field, various forms of steam power was being used, some gigantic engines rumbled past slowly, with huge smiles from the coal smeared faces of the operators, while others were static, crushing huge slabs of wood into sawdust, or planing logs into sheets. I loved the cedar tendrils of wispy wood in piles on the grass, and the aroma from them was wonderful.

The threshing machine always draws my attention, the metal working effortlessly with the men, smashing corn stalks into silage. And all that dust and chaff blowing out from the top was just begging to be photographed. And I'm sure I wasn't the only one who loved to walk through it, a silage snowstorm.

We had to stop at some point and eat, so we walked over to the food vendors, and discovered a pizza van, which handed us each a delicious pizza. But my eyes had been searching for the bestest ice cream in the whole world, which I'd had here every year. And they were, a small van with its little pop pop engine churning the ice cream as fast as it could. I willingly gave up a slice up my pizza to Elliott just so I could get my ice cream sooner. The line was long, and I hopped from foot to foot, praying they wouldn't run out of the peach before I got there. And glory be, they didn't. I carried my precious cargo back to our table, and shoveled and savored in silence, reveling in every mouthful, and every large chunk of peach. Elliott said it was the best ice cream he'd ever had, and I wasn't going to argue. The only down side is that the vendor comes from Willis, VA, 4 hours south of us, so I won't taste this nectar on a regular basis. Unfortunately I was so immersed in enjoying my ice cream, that it was all gone before I thought of taking a photo.

I call the gallery below, Portraits of Steam. Throughout the day, I spent some time focusing on the steam engine operators, and was quite pleased when I reviewed the shots when I got home.

And the ones below are a few of other people that I had to include.

 Elliott photographing, or more likely videoing, the cedar shingles being stamped with the day's event and year.

These 2 chaps beamed at me through the glass of the cutest little hand built Ford I've ever seen. And it only took him 11 months to build it!

These young lads had no idea that I took their photo, all 3 of them lost in their own thoughts.

The smallest Singer sewing machine I've ever come across, and it worked!

I watched this guy for a few minutes, who was totally engrossed with this very unusual truck. It had a hand built wooden bench to sit on, a winch, sun shade, and even a small cannon for self defense!

2 photos of steam engines in motion. I can stand for hours watching these operate. Some are wonderfully noisy, while others can operate in complete silence, with barely a swish.

Gil Roberts running the parade, where he spoke with every driver that took part, and knew every machine, evidently having the time of his life at this superb event that he's been putting together for years, with all profits being donated to local charitable organizations.

Throughout the day we'd been keeping an eye on a strip of ground that would be used for the tractor pull, or more importantly, in my eyes, the steam engine pull. A tractor had plowed it, and then it was flattened with a roller many times, before finally the event was ready to start after the parade.

People lined the fencing on each side of the route, so we went up to the end, where I laid on the ground for a different perspective. It was actually intensely incredible having these huge machines crawling past my head, curling clods of clay, as they pulled the weight to the end of the strip. The Minneapolis above performed splendidly, as did a couple of others, but I was waiting for the giant.

The Gaar-Scott trundled up to the start line, it's centenarian 39,000lbs settling into the mud. It churned its way to the end of the strip, and looked for a moment as though it was going to continue on into the field beyond and steam over the horizon. I really think there should be a Russian tank pull next year, just so this behemoth has something to pull that it might have to work at!

We walked around the field once more, this time checking the vendors, and purchasing a small gear stick thingy with yellow knobs, that will have a spot in the garden as one of our 'ornaments'. I have no recall of what it actually was, I just liked the look of it. And with our souvenir, we walked back to the car, the steam engines whistling behind us as though wishing us adieu, until next year.