Recently my brothers and I sold Dad's house, including this rake. We used to ride on it, mostly because it worked better with a weight on it, and originally, Dad drove the tractor and Big Brother pulled a rope to lift the tines to dump the cut hay in long lines, which we would then rake into stacks with pitch forks.
After a few years BB was old enough to drive the tractor, and LB and I sat on the rake, but weren't as clever with the tine-lifting, so an extension was put on the rope, so it was still BB who had control of the tines. When all the hay was in rows, we pitched it into piles, then into a wagon which the tractor towed to the hay stack just outside the corral. Then we pitched the hay onto the stack, which we would feed to Trigger, our handsome horse. Most all the work was done by Big Brother, but Little Brother and I did just enough to have fun and get our pictures taken. BB had hay fever and so was red of face and eye and not photogenic. This was Not Fair, obviously.
Only my Big Brother could ride the horse, aside from Dad, because BB was smarter and more stubborn than Trigger. I rode the neighbor's horse, Colonel, which was well mannered and smaller, when he was out of town. We never put the hay in the barn, because that would have messed up our basketball court. Besides, there wasn't that much rain, and Dad and BB put a tarp over the hay for when it did. Colonel and Trigger were fast friends, and looked very handsome together, being the same color pintos, both with brown circle-spots high-lighting their tails. I like to think my brother and I looked swell riding our pretty horses down the country lane just for fun and to exercise the horses.
