Into the marsh

I spent four seasons harvesting sphagnum moss on various moss marshes in central Wisconsin. We used modified pitch forks called "pulling hooks," to gather the moss and pack it on large flat, wooden "boats" pulled behind 6,000lb "cleat-track" cats. The company that I worked for also had a harvest machine, and I became quite good at driving the cats within inches of the harvest machine, pulling a boat and two co-workers behind me. I loved that job. I had to leave it because it was at best a sixth-month season. And the last year I worked there, the company only harvested three months. I could not wait nine months to work again. I intended to come back, but I accidently found a full-time job that pays me well and that I like. But I miss the marsh. I miss being out there everyday and being totally immersed in nature. There were beautiful dragonflies and flowers. Eagles would soar overhead and often plop down on a branch and watch to see what we chased up once the moss was pulled away. The view was gorgeous. Working in a clearing with a ring of woods around us, the clouds were spectacular.
It wasn't all dragonflies and flowers. Some days were hard, hot, fly-infested and miserable.
The very first day I worked was a trial. It was mid-April. Rainy. The wind was cold. The foreman picked me up at the office. He took one look at his his new crew member and tried not to have a look like he was sure I wasn't going to work out. He optimistically told me on the drive up to the woods and down the marsh road what an adventurous job it was and what a great crew we had. We got there and the crew was sitting in a shed waiting for him. They had all been planning on going home for the day because of conditions, but I wasn't aware of that. We went down to the edge of the marsh and I realized that we had to stand on these boats and be pulled by a cat out to where we were harvesting. Someone handed me a huge, heavy pulling hook and they told me to use it to help me balance. I just about wiped right out when the cat jerked forward, but the foreman grabbed my arm to steady me. I was really wondering what I had gotten myself into. Some 15 minutes later, we stopped and I stepped off into the marsh. The water immediately went over my boots, filling them with water. There was plenty of room because they were borrowed knee boots and way too big for me. The water was cold. I was wearing an army poncho because it was still raining. The wind kept slapping the poncho into my face. My glasses kept steaming up and the cold water was wicking right up my pants leg from my wet boots.
A few minutes into all this, I mis-stepped in the squishy marsh and splat! I fell right down on my bottom. And had trouble standing back up. The foreman had to give me a hand. It was impossible not to notice the guys giving each other looks and trying really hard not to laugh. I was horrified. I had thought I could do the work but now that I was in the thick of it, I realized what a horrible mis-judgement I had made. I focused on and dedicated myself to just making it through the day. The wind increased in the afternoon. I worked harder to keep myself warm. The pulling hook was so heavy that my arms ached. I just kept pushing through. I fell down again. But that time I was able to pull myself up. I didn't care because I was already soaked.
After hours of this, the day was done and the foreman was so enthusiastic. I was a mosser now. I was doing great. I was getting the hang of it. I just knew that I had made it through the day. We had to ride the boat back in to shore. It was much easier because there was a huge pile of moss to hang on to. But as soon as the cat did the intial jerk, I was knocked off balance and plopped right down into the pile. I knew this wasn't the usual etiquette because two guys laughed. But I was soaked to the skin anyway and it was much more comfortable than standing, so I rode in that way.
We got back to the landing and I was so grateful I had survived my horrible, cold, wet, miserable day. The foreman went on and on about how I fit right in because I was such a hard worker and working out there in conditions like that and never complaining. Then he noticed for the first time what a heavy pulling hook I had been using and was more amazed. He handed me a smaller one and told me to use that one the next day. I was thinking, well, I'm not gonna be here, but I took it and put it aside anyway.
On the way back to the office, a 40-minute drive from the marsh, the foreman was going on about how it's not usually like this and everyday will be easier than this one because this was the worst conditions that he had ever worked in in 20-plus years of mossing. It's all a piece of cake from now on? What's he saying? I thought these guys were like the post office, through rain and sleet and all that. So I didn't tell him I wasn't coming the next day. I decided to wait and see how I felt about it the next morning. When we got back to the office, he fixed me up with a pair of proper fitting boots.
The next morning I woke up to a beautiful, warm, sun-shiny day. I knew I was going into the day differently, with proper boots and a smaller, lighter, shorter pulling hook. I couldn't wait to see how it went.