Instead of pampering my Pagoda, a reasonable grown-up activity that this forum encourages wholeheartedly, I was gathering wood on my land last Sunday, using my old, dogged, reliable and pliable tractor to pull a cart loaded with recently-cut lengths of cherry wood (a local farmer tends to the trees, and we split the wood that results from his annual pruning with him). Cherry wood is extremely dense and hard, and brings light and warmth to our fireplace in winter (after about 3 years of drying).
The tractor is a 1955 diesel-powered Massey Ferguson, built by Hotchkiss in England with a Standard engine, which runs beautifully, almost as if it were new. No smoke, no leaks, strong oil pressure, no play in anything. It drinks like a camel, about 1L (roughly 1 quart) per hour of diesel fuel. I bought it 12 years ago, at the same time we moved to Provence, and he’s become a trusted partner which helps me maintain the property (I only do light stuff, cleaning and cutting, but on 30 acres, it still amounts to quite a bit). Praise the engineers and craftsmen who produced such wonderfully simple, rugged, efficient and durable machines!
To bring us a little bit closer to the principal object of this forum, its injection pump is very similar to the one on the Pagoda (bar the WRD and barometric compensator): a gear-driven, Lavalette-type, more or less immortal and supremely reliable mechanical wonder, with 4 cylinders and a camshaft like the engine itself.
A couple weeks ago, I performed maintenance on my old friend in anticipation of a new year of service: oil change (engine, gearbox and hydraulics, 6 gallons in all !), changing fuel and oil filters, cleaning the oil-bath air filter, flushing and cleaning the radiator, general lube tour, replacing rubber protectors on steering-arm joints, adjusting the tension of the belt which drives the fan, water pump and alternator.
The tractor sleeps in the same shed as the Pagoda. She gets all the fun, going out as soon as there is a ray of sunshine, visiting friends, going to bars and restaurants, and even traveling a little bit, while he gets to work even in fog and rain if need be. The lady is cleaned regularly with a soft cloth and gets polish once in a while, he only gets a rub of rough cloth to remove excess grease and dirt. She is pampered all the time, getting about 98% of the ‘hobby’ budget, while he has to make do with the strict minimum. But then he is a healthy and good-natured lad, and she a capricious and spoiled princess.
So, getting back to last Sunday afternoon, as we were about to stop and unload our first cartload of wood, he and I went just a little further than expected when I tried to brake, and fell into a small gully. We only stopped when he met a tree he couldn’t avoid (he took another small one out on the way, but this one was a bit stronger): it all happened in a matter of 3-4 seconds, and I must confess that I didn’t react as a character in a movie surely would have. I just stayed in the saddle, barely registering the scene as it unfolded, worrying mostly about the tractor, without doing anything else (the fall was about a yard and a half in height, down a 45° incline on even ground, so nothing that couldn’t be handled, even if it was a bit surprising, and I wasn't worried about my fate).
It turns out I overfilled the hydraulics, which caused the extra oil to seep into the rear wheels axle, and from there into the brake drums (this is a well known weakness of this model, later corrected).
So, I ended up taking care of my old friend, who looked a little bit like Wall-E when he gets himself in need of a makeover towards the end of the eponymous movie: one eye missing and a bit bashed in (though luckily very little, as the steel plates are pretty thick, which is good for him, and hard to shape, which is not so good for me). After disassembly of the front, some cutting and drilling of rusted bolts, a little bit of bashing and welding, and the necessary cleaning and degreasing of the brakes, we got back on the road today, and completed our wood gathering task. He’s still missing an eye, but it looks to me as if he’s grinning a bit more since I spent 2 days taking care of him, and only him.
Until next time...