Sometimes it’s easy to mark the end of one thing and the beginning of another. Like winter in Alaska. Other seasons seem to last forever. Like baseball.
“There’s an opportune time to do things, a right time for everything on earth: a right time to plant and another to reap…”
Ecc 3:1 MSG
There’s a specific timeline to cut, rake, and bale hay: seven to nine days of hot hot sun, clear skies, wind (preferably <10mph), and NO rain in the forecast. Technically, I only need five days but my conservative nature likes a little cushion. I’ve raced the threat of rain and had to buck hay too many times.
Also, stuff happens. Like a leak in the fuel return line, or not double-checking the top link is locked down to later discover that vibrations have knocked it loose and half the mower is no longer attached correctly to the tractor (a mistake you only make once) and then have to figure out how to shift without help. But, I digress.
The Haying Window this year was not 100% ideal. One weather model showed a day in the middle of an otherwise promising stretch with a less than 5% “chance of scattered showers.”
I had allocated seven days with a planned Thurs start. That morning, after much speculation with my Baler … “if it were your field, would you go??” … I decided to wait and evaluate Fri morning. Two models showed the chance of rain down to .02%. I decided to go. It’s not Vegas, but nothing like a little crapshoot, right?
Everything was splendid. Until I woke up Sunday morning to that .02%. Crud! But it stopped by noon, and by late afternoon I finished the last of the mowing. Miraculously, the impact ended up the equivalent of a heavy mist. Whew!
The next afternoon, while fluffing everything out to dry (because tractor time is Protected Thinking Time) it occurred to me:
Conditions have to be right.
The no rain part of The Haying Window is pretty important. Baling compresses loose hay into tight bales. If it’s baled before drying properly, too much moisture can create too much heat leading to combustion and fire. It’s super scary to have tonnage put up in your barn and notice a bale is smoking…ask me how I know!
Predictability models don’t always.
When I was little, we had the local news channel weather guy and farmers foresight gleaned from the family’s historical knowledge bank and your own experience. Now, there are local and national weather channels, websites, apps, and still the trusty ole Farmer’s Almanac. But experts are people too, and sometimes they get it wrong.
At some point ya just gotta roll the dice.
Can it be risky? Sure. But is a little risk worth getting it done? It would be easy to spiral in analysis paralysis–especially with access to real-time data. It’s good to determine your risk tolerance in the off-season, so you don’t burn too much daylight stuck in indecision.
For most things, it’s best when conditions are 100% right, but it’s practically impossible to accurately predict all.the.things. Technology has advanced much in the last few decades, and can be incredibly helpful, but it’s only as good as the people behind it. Know what your risk tolerance is, and have a decision-making plan in place for when you need to move forward in less-than-ideal conditions.
Points to Ponder:
Consider a project with a get-it-done window.
- Are there critical go/no-go decision points that can impact the outcome?
- Can you quantify and qualify what (or how much) risk you are willing to take?
Actionable application:
Map out a process for making risky go/no-go decision(s).