They Never Look Up

-or-  I'm in Reverse! Everything Stay Out of My Way!

Our Delores has issued this week's challenge.

static, precursor, inclement, tractor, stump, racing

Six unrelated words that we must stitch together into something cohesive.

Or at least believable.

Fortunately, tractors and I have a history.

What follows is, unhappily, true . . . 

My victim. Again.

Dad had bought a new tractor.
Painted bright yellow, it was a thing of real beauty.
Or so the men in my family thought.
Pffff. Men.
It was parked proudly between the shop (formerly our home - see here) and the pasture, wherein my horse was . . . erm . . . pastured.
The tractor stood there in lonely glory, awaiting the delivery of two more back wheels.
Now it was unheard of, at that time, for a tractor to have more than the requisite two.
Back wheels, that is.
But this one did.
Or soon would have.
Each of the existing wheels had three feet of extra axle sticking out in happy anticipation.
This is important and a precursor to what follows.
And I didn't care.
I was racing to get my horse ready for a show.
I needed to load up my tack.
This entailed maneuvering the car between the pasture fence and the shed door.
Easily done.
I could see the tractor.
I could see the fence.
I could see the shed.
All was well.
Back.
Back.
Back.
Crunch.
What on earth had I hit?
There was the shed.
There was the tractor.
There was the fence.
All in perfect sight.
Okay. I was stumped.
I got out to inspect.
I should point out here that this was the same car that I had only recently filled with diesel fuel. My popularity had developed chills and fever over that event and was still rather . . . inclement. Any new stunt guaranteed that storm clouds would swirl forever more.
Sigh.
I walked to the back of the car.
To see six inches of extra axle poking into the rear car fender.
Oh.
The extra axle.
That would, one day, support extra wheels.
In all of my careful looking, I had forgotten to look up.
To the stupid axle hanging in the air three and a half feet above the ground.
Rats.
Once more, I drove to the house to show my dad.
Who gave me static and labeled me a driving menace.
He was right.

P.S. Tune in tomorrow for the rest of Delores' words . . .