One of “Those” Days
It started out to be a pleasant morning. It was warm but not too bad, and the breeze was keeping us in the comfort zone.
Bob had fixed an electric valve in my lawn irrigation system by using the solenoid off a new one. I called the company to see if I could buy the replacement part, rather than a whole new valve. I was told it had a six-year warranty and since it was installed about three years ago, it would send me a new one, free of charge.
Several years ago I bought a used quad to save my legs as I climbed the hill or ventured into the far back pasture. When my wife saw how much I used the old one, she wanted to get me a newer and bigger one. One of our boys found one at the right price near him, bought it, and a couple of weeks later, brought it down.
Instead of selling the older and smaller one, we kept it as a backup. Though it’s old, it’s still good transportation if Bob and both need to go up on the hill to fix the spring, or out in the back field. Plus, they’ve both serve as a pair of “rubber-tired horses” when we herd our cows somewhere.
My back field is a 35 acre parcel, with close to a full mile of fence enclosing the area. Mr. Boo, my one-ton herd sire, also known as my kissing bull, has been known to go visiting the nubile neighbor girls, usually pushing a hole in the fence to get out.
It’s good practice to have Bob make a circle around the back field every couple of weeks, searching for weak spots, loose wires, and any possible points of escape. Since it had been at least two or three weeks since he’d ridden the circuit, and he needed a half hour to finish his work day, I sent him out to check the fenceline.
I wrote his check, then settled back in my big chair to wait for him underneath the cooler. I had actually dozed off when my phone rang. It was Bob.
“Hey Bob. What’s up? What’ya need?” I figured he’d found a sizeable hole and needed me to bring him posts or wire, or maybe staples.
“You’re not gonna believe this.”
“I’m not gonna believe what, Bob?”
“I’m in the farthest back corner of the back field.”
Oh man, he must have a really big hole to fix, or a bunch of posts and wire had been knocked down. “Yes?” “I’ve run out of gas.” Oh, is that all? Sit tight. I’ll be right out.” I knew I had two fivegallon jugs of gas in the garage.
I pulled on the appropriate footwear, loaded the gas in the back of the little quad, and started for the back side of the field. This wouldn’t take long. I’ll deliver the gas to him, make sure he can get started, and we’ll both buzz back to the house.
I putted through the pasture to within about 200 yards of Bob and the big stranded quad. Was I feeling this one miss once in a while? No, now it’s running just fine. Uh oh, now it’s missing again. At about 100 yards from Bob, my little quad died. It too had run out of fuel.
I got off, took the big five-gallon jug of gas intended for Bob, and poured a good gallon or more into my dry fuel tank. With fuel back in the carburetor, it started right up. I put it in gear to continue toward Bob and the big quad.
I hadn’t gone more than 20 yards, and suddenly I stopped moving forward. A chain rattled, and then all was silent as I rolled to a stop regardless of throttle or engine speed. The chain which drives back axle had gotten loose and jumped off the big sprocket.
Bob walked down to me, got the fuel can and took it back to his machine. With fuel in the tank, he drove over to me to see what we could do about my loose chain.
A couple of wrenches, and maybe a socket set, would make tightening the chain a simple job. But he’d come to the back field to possibly fix any fence he found needing his attention. A hammer, big pliers, a comea-long, and gloves for the barbed wire, were all the tools he’d brought.
Fortunately, a little tweaking with his long knife blade got the chain over the little sprocket on the engine. Since the chain was already loose, it took little effort to thread it back over the big sprocket on the back axle.
I drove back to the shop, though carefully and slowly. By taking it easy on the chain, I was able to limp it home with no further problems. Then, when he tried to adjust the chain tension, the tensioning bolt broke.
I refilled the gas cans, and made sure both machines were topped off. The broken part was ordered, delivered, and is ready to be replaced. But, it was certainly one of “those” days.