Mennonite Steam Cream

This was a big weekend here in Mid-Michigan.  In a region where so much of life, the economy, and the community revolve around agriculture, the annual Mid Michigan Old Gas Tractor Association meet and show is big. Front page news in the local paper. A couple of local businesses closed for the weekend and there was a parade of heavy metal being pulled along the highway through town for the day or two preceding.  BIG TIME.

As a fan of most all that is mechanical, and as the father of a 4 year old boy, there was little chance we would miss a visit to the MMOGTA, as it's known.  The site is in the middle of nowhere, at the intersection of corn and beans. Easy to find though.  You just follow the caravan of pickup trucks with vanity plates that say things like, "My other car is a John Deere" or, "If you ate today, thank a farmer."

The grounds are amazing with thousands of tractors and buildings filled with ancient machines.  One building is occupied by about 15 large stationery machines, gas, kerosine, and diesel.  We walked through pretty quickly, though, as they were all running and the noise was almost deafening. Not everything on the grounds is gas.  There are always a dozen or so steam tractors, these giant pre-historic mechanized monsters from the early part of the twentieth century.  It's incredible to think what was required to transform farming into the enterprise it became, capable of feeding all of us and quite a few others. I was also surprised at the number of Mennonites who were involved with and/or enamored with the big steam machines. I have always confused their sect with the Amish who shun all things mechanical.

For my two cents worth, best of show was found at the corner of one of the display buildings.  There, literally in the shade of a small tree, was a beautiful small (meaning it probably only weighed 600lbs or so) steam engine attended to by a young Mennonite man.  The machine was attached to a miniature wagon by a series of belts and wheels and pulleys.  And there on that wagon, that steam engine was performing its work.

The sign on the portable wooden trailer adjacent to the apparatus read: "Homemade Ice Cream. Single scoop, $2.00, Double scoop, $3.00. Chocolate and Vanilla." It was attended by a lovely young Mennonite woman in her cap and homemade dress and my thought was: There cannot be a more perfect ice cream enterprise in the world. Judging by the humongous single scoop of vanilla we all shared I'll stand by that statement.