[AT] Simple lessons

[Grant Brians]

I have several times "just driven" the tractor from here to there. The
longest of these was the first time we moved a potato digger. The distance
from the main ranch to the remote ranch is just about 49 miles. The distance
was only one of three factors though. The second one is that we were going
over the 2235 foot elevation pass - starting at 162 feet elevation, heading
to 800 feet elevation, then 2235, then back down to 1220 feet elevation. Not
much in the way of brakes when the digger weighed over double the tractor
weight. And the third factor was that the road in question is narrow, windy
and at places very steep up and down. 4 almost 5 hours later one VERY tired
driver!
     The other very memorable trip was 30 years ago or thereabouts. I
purchased a 1951 Oliver 77 tricycle cultivating tractor at an auction over
by Gilroy. My intention was to use it as a parts tractor but at least it
ran, actually very well. So after the auction I came back to the farm to get
my mother so we could caravan the tractor back with her following in the
pickup. There was nearly not a drop of power steering fluid in the reservoir
on the tractor and the tank was almost empty of gasoline on the tractor, the
tires were low on air and had little tread and there were no brakes to speak
of. We stopped at the gas station that had just been built not far from the
auction site after leaving the auction on the tractor. I already realized I
needed some power steering fluid, but we had both neglected somehow to bring
more than ten dollars cash and they did not sell the fluid....
     I proceeded to drive that tractor back the 17 miles, mostly on slow
roads, but for a distance on the main state highway (a bit harrowing with
the lined up semi-trucks and cars behind us!). It wasn't actually a bad
drive at all and the day was pretty normal (strong winds in other words),
but there was one minor problem - the tricycle front wheel was wiggling back
and forth like a go-go dancer's butt or other parts the whole way. And that
was at a slow speed too. Interestingly, I still use that tractor for
cultivating. It still has a modest power steering leak, but eventually I
found that the brakes not working was because they had been fully rebuilt
and never adjusted before the tractor went to the auction - twenty minutes
of wrench time and they have been perfect now for over 20 years! Also, the
hydraulic hoses were very marginal when I bought it, I replaced all of them
within a week of buying it and one of them actually broke at that time.
Thank you Lord for looking out for me on that day's trip!
     Another interesting trip that I had not told of on this list before is
when I bought a semi-trailer up in San Jose to use for storage. I drove up
on the freeway in my 1986 F250 diesel with a field dolly hooked up behind
(no brakes as it was a field dolly of course.) After purchasing the trailer,
I hooked up where it was hidden behind a machine shop buiding with a narrow
driveway some distance away from where the trailer was. I managed to
manuever the trailer with the pickup after we moved the sheds etc. from
around it to go out of the yard and down the driveway next to the shop and
office buildings. Then I proceeded to drive the trailer back to my home
place (46 miles) mostly using the old road that now is city traffic at 25-35
miles per hour. I will say that a pickup truck is not the perfect way to
move heavy old semi-trailers.... But it worked!
        Grant Brians
        Hollister,California Vegetables, Nuts and Fruit farmer

-----Original Message-----
From: at-bounces at lists.antique-tractor.com
[mailto:at-bounces at lists.antique-tractor.com]On Behalf Of Dean Vinson
Sent: Thursday, April 10, 2014 7:06 PM
To: 'Antique tractor email discussion group'
Subject: [AT] Simple lessons


I'm preparing to move my 53 Super M from its and my suburban home to our
long-awaited little old farm in the country, and the onset of warm weather
makes me think I'll simply drive it the 35 miles rather than arrange to have
it hauled.   This evening's chore was to take it down to the corner gas
station and fill the tank, and then change the oil once back home, and 70+
degree temperatures and warm evening sunlight made it seem like a simple
task.

First discovery was that my battery was dead, again, somewhat to my surprise
since I had removed it from the tractor and fully charged it not that long
ago.  Okay, it was probably six months ago, but in my mind it was very
recent.   So I threw the charger back on it for a while and attended to some
household chores, but as sunset approached I thought I'd best get on my way
so I took the charger off, flipped the seat base back down over the battery
and bolted it tight, and cranked the engine over.  Fired right up like the
fine old girl she is, and I chugged my way down to the station.

Chugged being the right word, too, since last year's remnant of gasoline was
looking rather orange in the sediment bowl and seemed to cause the engine to
be undecided about what RPM it ought to be running at, or possibly whether
it ought to be running at all.   In hindsight, I notice my factory-sealed
little bottle of StaBil sitting right there near the battery charger where I
set it not that long ago, intending to put it in the tank before winter.
Okay, it was six months ago, but in my mind it was very recent.

$63.00 worth of fresh gasoline later, I climbed back up, listened to that
familiar rhythm of clank-rattle-rattle-squeak-click-scratch (clutch in, make
sure gear shift's in neutral, little tug on throttle, pull out ignition
switch, pull back starter rod).   As always, that part sounded great.    But
the following "click-click-silence" wasn't so endearing a tune.   #@*$! that
battery.

Now, I refer to this place as the "corner gas station," since it is in fact
a gas station and on a corner, and I like it because one of the roads that
forms the corner is a quiet neighborhood street that links up to some other
quiet neighborhood streets, one of which eventually links up with my
driveway.  Trouble is, the other road on the corner is a six-lane divided
artery two-tenths of a mile from the interstate off-ramp and one-tenth in
the other direction from a traffic light at the entrance to the mall, and it
turns out I wasn't the only one who'd thought to stop at the gas station
this evening.   I was the only one with an old farm tractor, to be sure, but
the fact that it was dead silent and blocking one of the service aisles at
the station detracted somewhat from whatever cachet I imagined I'd had up to
that point.

So I left it in neutral, climbed back off, and proceeded to roll it out of
the way.   For a 6000-pound machine, it rolls pretty easily on nice smooth
level asphalt, which would have come in right handy if the gas station
parking lot had had very much of that.  As it was, I was working up a sweat
leaning into one of the rear wheels and inching my way along over potholes
and patches, when a young man pulled up in the next aisle and came over to
ask if I needed jumper cables.    I thanked him and said yes, that would be
terrific, since my alternate plan was to inch my way the remaining two
hundred yards or so to where I hoped the road sloped down steeply enough and
for far enough that I could roll-start the tractor.   So he hopped back in
his SUV, pulled around and parked nose-to-nose with the tractor, and got out
with his jumper cables.   Then after I showed him that the battery was
actually under the operator's seat at the back of the tractor, he patiently
drove back around to the back.

By then I'd climbed up to open the toolbox to get the big crescent wrench to
loosen the battery-cover bolts, only to be greeted by its distinct absence
along with a crystal-clear mental image of it sitting on the bench in my
garage where I'd set it about 12 minutes earlier after tightening hell out
of those bolts.   Evan (as the young man was named, I later learned), turned
out to be more patient and helpful than I could have hoped for and offered
to drive me home to get the wrench.   So we made a quick round trip, opened
up the battery box, and hooked up the cables.   I realized I'd have to break
my rule about never starting the tractor unless I'm in the seat with the
clutch in, since the seat was flipped back over and the
jumper-cabled-battery didn't seem too appealing an alternative.  So after
making sure it was in neutral with the brakes set I settled for the
squeak-click-scratch of throttle/ignition/starter rod, and the Super M fired
right up like the fine old girl she is.

Evan said his goodbyes as I bolted the seat base/battery cover back down,
and then I hopped up, switched the lights onto Low, and hummed off into the
darkness.   Hummed being the right word, too, since that new yellow gasoline
flushed the sediment bowl and flowed on down to the carburetor and made it
nice and easy for the engine to know right what RPM it ought to be running
at.

Dean Vinson
(Soon to be from) Saint Paris, Ohio

_______________________________________________
AT mailing list
http://www.antique-tractor.com/mailman/listinfo/at