The 2nd part of my trilogy “sad things that German’s do” is to detail (to my eternal shame) my attendance at a local tractor gathering (known as a Treckertreffen) in the village of Schmitt, in the Cochem-Zell district of Rheinland-Pfalz. I shall avoid the obvious gag here about “I used to be a tractor fan, but these days…”. On getting out of the car, we were greeted by a musky pong of fried onions, bratwurst, wood smoke and diesel fumes, to the strains of John Denver’s Take Me Home, Country Roads (I kid you not). This set the scene nicely for an exceptional period of trudging around a large field looking at tractors, in various states of rusting and agriculturally-accelerated decay. For a mundane a rather utilitarian vehicle, they certainly do have a variety of forms; one could say almost endless.
At the tractor fayre in 56825 Schmitt, owners and tractor enthusiasts (especially vintage or classic models) come together to show their machines, take part in orientation rides, and socialize with others who share an interest in agricultural machinery. The Treckertreffen in Schmitt features a healthy array of tractors (and some vintage cars) on display and group rides organized by local tractor clubs such as the IG Treckefreunde Schmitt/Eifel. On the day I attended this included rather unsafe elevation in the bucket of some Leviathan tractor, which affords excellent views of the local countryside and an opportunity to void the rectum at the same time.
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