“Welcome to the 2017 FFA olympics!” yelled the announcer. It was my favorite time of year,  fair week. It was a beautiful night because the sweet summer’s sun went away. That meant everybody would be at the gigantic, steel grandstands for the events. In the olympics, there are many competitions to compete in, for example, pie eating, the tractor barrel race, and the chicken catch. At the pie eating contest, we achieved second place out of four teams. The kids scarfed down a sweet apple pie that filled the air with a scrumptious scent of apple pie. After the pie eating contest, the kids were saturated in bronze glaze from the filling.

Next was the chicken race. The FFA teachers made the ground slippery with soap, vegetable oil and water, so it would be harder to catch the slippery sandy brown chickens. Our team was splendid. It consisted of  a quick girl who ran cross country and a boy who was also very fast. Finishing first in the chicken catch was Ayersville. Next all of the Ayersville kids grouped together to decide who would drive the tractor. Loryn noted, “One boy and one girl make a team.”

We decided on Trevor for the boy, and we then needed a girl. None of the other girls wanted to try, so it was up to me. Nerves filled my body because I had never driven a tractor, let alone one that was clutch. It was like teaching someone how to write. Being taught how to drive, I let up on the gas pedal for it to go instead of pressing down like a normal car. I mentally prepared myself to get on the enormous tractor and drive. Breathing heavily, I took many deep breaths. The goal for the race was to steer a plastic barrel and keep it between two lines and get it to the other end the quickest. I turned to scope out the other team. Driving the cherry red tractor towards the track was Fairview. My best friend Rose drove so gracefully like a swan swimming, which resulted in a fast time. Finally, it was our turn. The announcer yelled, “Ayersville is up!” Very unprepared to walk on the slippery mud to get on the tractor I started to move toward it. I wasn't expecting I would end up driving a tractor, so I was wearing eggshell white crocs. By the time I arrived to the tractor, they were covered in mud and looked as brown as coffee.

          Trevor drove first. He drove fast and efficient and kept the barrel between the lines. After his turn ended, I hopped onto the double-seater tractor. He sat next to me, telling me exactly what I needed to do, and when I messed up,  he would steer to get me back on track. I accidently made the barrel go out of the wide lines, which was made of coarse rope, a few too many times--way too many times. This caused us to have time added to our already long time thanks to my ditzy self.

We inched our way to the finish line slowly. Very slowly, like a turtle we were close. I didn’t realize it at the time, but at the end of the rope barriers, there were razor sharp stakes poking up above the ground to hold the tiger orange ropes in place. After finally reaching the finish line, I almost hit one of the stakes. This caused a bystander to voice, “Stop!”  then pushed the hefty tractor back, so the slimmed tire didn’t get popped. By this time everyone was laughing at my struggle to get the huge black plastic barrel 100 feet to the other end. We ended up getting last place.

The announcer  murmured with a laugh, “I guess blondes can’t drive tractors.”  the crowd echoed with laughter. The laughs could probably be heard from Canada! My face turned beet red because the whole entire fair was watching. Because my mom had recorded the whole entire incident, I will forever remember this. The rest of fair week people brought it up and stated, “You’re the girl who drove the tractor!” and then laughed about it. I will forever cherish this embarrassing but hilarious memory of attempting to drive a tractor and failing in front of the whole entire Defiance County Fair.