I was wanting in on some private property near me here in MN, and everyone I spoke to about the "Old" farmer, said he was from the world war and would just as well shoot ya than talk to you. I drove by his place one day and saw him tossing bales onto the back of his flatbed trailer pulled by an old tractor. He would jump down and toss a couple bales then jump back up and steer the machine strait again and repeat the process, I thought to myself today is just a good a day to Die than any other, So I parked my truck and walked out into the field where he was working, as I approached he just glanced up and never said a word. He looked to be a hundred years old and knarly like an old oak tree, he had skin like leather from all the hours spent in the sun and harsh weather. His grey hair was covered by an old red cap that was covered with grease and oil. His stubbled face was hard cut and his facial hair was stained at the corners of his mouth but the tabacco he chewed. I picked up a bale and tossed it up onto the flatbed. It was a beautiful blue sky day and the wind was fresh and steady, I think we made about three or four "rounds" before the Old man even said a word. Then, just as if he was prodded by some unseen hand he looked at me and said "I don't get much help out here , even from my own sons" I thought about how to answer that, when he continued,"I fought in the war and didn't ask nor get much help there neither so I guess it should be no surprise" I just stood there letting him talk "You have thrown bales before I see" I explained that my Father raised horses and I was no stranger to Bales. He chuckled and asked if I wanted a drink after he swigged off a old mason jar, and as he wiped the root-beer colored snoose juice off the rim I politely declined. We sat and talked on the back of that trailer for about two and a half hours that day and built a friendship that lasted til he died about 12 years later, he shared his insights and thoughts on just about everything from politics to religion. He gave me permission to use ALL his land and he had a boat access to a small lake with a couple of old boats, that he let me use as well, I would catch lots of good fish on the lake and would never forget to leave him and his wife a share (cleaned of course).
I guess the point is , When people ask for something from another they should offer something back in its place. When you show others you understand what they need they offer bounty in return. The best thing I got from this event was not permission to use the property, But a friend that I will never forget. I have never told this story or spoke about how we became friends, but the first part of the forum reminded me of that day. He was my friend and I still miss him.
I'd bet you a million bucks that the farmer has been asked numerous times by people wanting in. I would try anyways..what have you got to lose?