We have some of our heifers raised on a farm a few miles away. On the farm there is a bunker silo. Basically it's three cement walls with a cement floor that you shove haylage (chopped hay) or corn silage (chopped corn, including ears, cobs and stalks) in and pack it tight. Then you cover it with plastic. On our farm we use the blue silos - Harvestores.
The bunker was filled and packed and it was time to cover it up. So, I went along to help. I wasn't really dressed for it, but I was game.
The plastic sheet that was going to cover the bunker measured 30 X 100 feet. Farmer and the other farmer carried the roll up to the top of the bunker and unrolled the plastic. It was all folded up, like the plastic table clothes you can buy. We got one strip rolled out the length of the bunker. I asked Farmer if we could add water and have an Ag-Slip and Slide. He did his usual thing and rolled his eyes and acted like he didn't hear me.
Then we had to unfold from the center out until it was all laid out and covered the hay.
The wind was picking up a bit and the plastic would billow up and down. We had to be careful and not walk on the plastic so we wouldn't rip it.
Silly me, I had flip flops on and came so close to flopping myself. I did manage to keep upright which I'm sure was a disappointment to all.
Once the plastic was rolled out we had to secure the edges to keep it as airtight as possible. It really isn't air tight, but we want to keep it covered as tightly as possible.
There were old heavy boards laying by the bunker that we used to hold the plastic down. Son #3 obliged and held it down - way longer than we needed, I might add.
Once we had the boards down we used our telehandler to place large round hay bales every few feet. These bales weigh 600 pounds so it wasn't real easy to move them where we wanted once they were placed. The slippery plastic did help. At one point the other farmer was adjusting a bale and partially fell over the edge. There was a barn a few feet away that he braced himself up against. So, he has his arms braced on the barn and his feet are stretched out on the edge of the bunker wall and he had no where to go but down. Jake, my trusty boy, not to be confused with my son, was my boy that Farmer hired a few years ago. He was supposed to do whatever I needed so I wouldn't bug Farmer. He did such a good job that Farmer stole him away after the first few months. But, I still call him my boy and cajole him into helping me now and then. Anyway, Jake reached out, grabbed the farmer by his belt and pulled him back on to the bunker. He saved the day!
Jake, Farmer, Son #3 and the other farmer's son.
While the boards were placed and the bales were moved into place there was the usual bantering and bickering between the sons, the Farmer and the boy.
I spent most of my time crawling around the edges holding down the plastic and scurrying out of the way when the bales dropped. That, plus trying to stay upright pretty much kept me busy and out of trouble.
