I listened to a 32-year-old millionaire farmer mock my 1967 tractor in front of the entire feed store.
The sled hit the hundred-foot mark. The massive weight slammed forward, shifting the heavy ballast directly over the friction plate. The drag spiked instantly. The crowd went dead silent, their eyes locked on my exhaust, waiting for the engine note to bog down and die. But the engine didn’t bog down. The deep, mechanical rhythm…
