My initial impression of the old tractor was that if it were a person, it would be “Big Mac,” the villain played by Jack Elam in the “Apple Dumpling Gang.”

We had recently watched the movie at school and the tractor, with one headlight pointed straight ahead and the other broken and hanging, looking at something unknown located down and to the left, reminded me of Elam.

Later in life, I learned that Elam’s eye, which gave the actor his signature looks in so many of the westerns that I watched as a child, had been damaged in a scuffle as a boy. How the tractor’s “eye” had been damaged would always remain a mystery.

It remained broken. We never seemed to have a need for the tractor after the sun went down. Therefore, headlights were nice, but not necessary. As a young man standing there in the yard with my dad that day, I had no idea just how much the old Ford tractor would have to teach me.

To this day, I still don’t know the model of the rusty old tractor. However, I do know that what remained of the red and white paint underneath the patina of oxidation meant that it was a pre-1964 model, as anything thereafter was painted Ford Blue.

I learned how to drive a “stick shift” on that tractor. I often wonder how many young drivers today can operate a manual transmission. It was a skill I learned quickly through on-the-job training.

Along with the broken headlight, the tractor also had a broken starter (or at least that’s what I assume, as a battery would have been a quick fix). No problem, my dad had the solution—clutch start it.

To crank the old Ford, Dad would hook a cable to the front of the tractor and attach it to the bumper of his truck. After giving me instructions to hold the clutch down and put the tractor in gear, he would take off pulling the tractor up the driveway. When we were clipping along at a good speed he would signal me with his hand, at which point I would pop the clutch and “roll start” the tractor.

The trick worked every time, and I became quickly adept at both starting and driving a vehicle with a manual transmission. It was a life skill that would come to serve me well in my teenage years, as my first vehicle was a truck with “four on the floor.”

Those tractor skills came in handy driving that Chevy S-10 while, between shifts, holding my girlfriend’s hand and cruising the strip on Friday nights. Farm skills became life skills.

The old tractor also taught me to respect machinery. My dad was always a stickler for safety. When it came to shooting firearms, using sharp tools like knives of axes, or operating machinery, it was always safety first with him.

However, as is often the case, after some time behind the wheel of the old Ford, I began to grow “comfortable.” Honestly, it was probably a combination of becoming comfortable as well as the mindset of a teenage boy.

At that age, you’re invincible, or at least you think you are until something happens to make you realize that, in fact, you are not. I vividly remember driving back to the barn one day, bouncing along, hands too loose on the steering wheel, and driving way too fast when I hit a hidden bump and was almost thrown from the seat.

What could have happened? I’ve often thought about it. I could have ended up underneath the disc harrow I was pulling behind the tractor. Fortunately, that didn’t happen thanks to a fortunate grasp and fingerhold on the steering wheel.

Needless to say, I slowed down. Even today when I am behind the wheel or operating other equipment like a zero-turn lawnmower, I think about that moment on the tractor, the moment that I realized just how fragile a thread life really is.

I’m grateful for that lesson. I’ve never mentioned the near accident to anyone until today, including my parents (sorry Mom and Dad). As I said, I think about it every time that I’m operating machinery or any tool that has the potential for danger and I thought about it this past weekend while Dan and I were working on food plots at the farm.

Like my father did with me, I’ve always emphasized safety first to both of our children when it comes to driving or activities like hunting and fishing. I believe that it is important to emphasize what could happen if things go wrong in order to help prevent those things from occurring.

Watching Dan make a pass with the tractor and tiller, I thought about that day so many years ago on the old Ford and, inhaling deeply, I breathed in the wonderful smell of freshly broken earth and said a prayer of thanksgiving for being there to take it all in.

Until next time, here’s to enjoying time outdoors with family and friends this fall and winter, here’s to putting safety first in all of those outings, and here’s to seeing you out there in our great outdoors.

Email outdoors columnist Brad Dye at braddye@comcast.net.