June 26,2007  Tractors and Air Conditioners
 
I'm always on the lookout for a tractor that'll serve well on my property in N. Texas. Yes, I love my old 1950 Ford 8N, but it is two-wheel drive, and the clay-based soil down South will probably require four-wheel drive. I haven't decided whether or not the trusty old Ford will find a new home down south or find a new home up here in WI. After the damage done by Quality Engine of Woodruff, Wisconsin on a routine carbureator service job, I'm thinking that maybe the old Ford would prefer a colder climate. But, it's duties would be light on my mini-ranch. She's been a good friend and deserves to be a restoration project.
 
Anyway, on a trip back from a grocery run in Minocqua I noticed a 4X4 tractor for sale in the parking lot of the local bowling alley. I passed by at my usual excessive speed, attempting to escape the idiots from Illinois, Indiana, Florida, Arkansas and Iowa who invade the town during the summer. Those people have terrible driving habits, driving like maniacs until they see something that interests them, when they slow to a crawl and become a carfull of swivel heads. Add to that mix a bunch of teenage girls who have cell phones permanently glued to their ears, and drive erratically based on the information heard by their cell phone mates (I wish they would be cell mates, but where's a cop when you need one?).
 
So I had to drive another two miles before I had an opportunity to safely turn around. That's because I was in the right lane attempting to pass an Illinois SUV in the Monfort lane. I wanted to get into the left lane to make a left from the center (5th) lane. Evidently the SUV driver had a macho problem and wouldn't let me pass on the right. So I slowed down. He slowed down, but not until I got a good look at the Illinois plates. I'm thinking it was a long lunch at one of the local watering holes, or maybe the increasing stupidity of Illinois peeps when they breathe fresh air. I flipped on my right turn signal and slowed for a road on the right. The SUV dude hit the gas, I checked the rearviews, and managed to cross quickly left to my left turn.
 
OK, I know I'm always ranting about Illinois Morons. I have a great number of friends from Illinois who are good and decent people. Most of them seldom visit the Northwoods. Stll, that leaves a great many Ill-anoy-ans who are Morons, like my new Illinois neighbor. 'Nuff said.
 
So, I went back to the bowling alley parking lot to checkout the 4x4 tractor.It looked in good condition and I noted it's manufacturer..Yanmar. It was a name I was not at all familiar with. And the I noticed the instructions on the fenders and console were in the chicken scratch of Japanese!
 
Fortunately I recently visited a number of tractor websites including the Japanese Kubota site. They have a special section that addresses "Grey Market" tractors. I'd never encounterd this term regarding these Grey Market tractors in the past. However, it appears that some unscrupulous individuals import tractors that were intended specifically for use in Japan. Problem is, the mfr's repair reps will not service these vehicles and parts cannot be imported into the US to fix them. The main giveaway for a Grey Market tractor is that all instructions and warnings are in Japanese. This was just such a tractor. Some poor dude had bought one of these and was trying to unload it.
 
On another topic, it's late June ine the Northwoods and unseasonably hot. Today hit 91 ° F! Usually we see a couple of weeks, maxs, in August that have uncomfortably warm tems, whe you gather all the fans in the house and aim them at your bed so that you may have a partial night's sleep. But this kind of heat is unheard of in June. Pundits claim we'll see the same in July and August. My place is super insulated, but eventually migrates to the outdoor temperatures. Historically, I've never had much use for an expensive AC system (and resulting expenses) prior to now. But my Real Estate dudes have said that AC is not a selling point for homes up here. So, I figured that if I bought a decent window-mount AC unit for the master br, and moved all the fans to the office, where the computers and electronics quickly raise the temps, I'd have the best of both worlds.
 
I decided to get a window unit capable of 8000 BTU. Enough for the master BR with the cathedral ceiling.
 
I first did my research on the internet. Checked prices and mfr's. Then I began phone calls to the local appliance dealers. Nobody had an AC unit or could get one on order. Bummer! I finally called the local Sears outlet and they could order one, but it wouldn't be in for two weeks. I ordered it anyway. Until then, Ill have to rely on the daytime breezes off the lake and the power of several fans for the night.
 
Until later.....DKHT

June 19,2007  Our Firefighters
 
By now almost everyone has heard of the tragic loss of 9 firemen in Charleston, SC.The roof caved in while they were inside a furniture warehouse, fighting an overwhelming blaze. Since this was a property issue rather than something like an apartment or high-rise blaze, I suppose there will be a few people who will wonder why these firemen fought so courageously to protect property. Professional firefighters often battle property fires to prevent the spread of the fire to residential or nearby hazardous facilities.
 
The story on the news about the loss of these firefighters triggered a long-forgotten memory. A great-grand-uncle was on the first local volunteer department and had to hand pull a hose cart to a hydrant near the fire. My Grandfather was local Fire Chief, later Fire Superintendent. and my Dad and most of his pals also served on our township's volunteer fire department. Once or twice a week these volunteers would spend an evening checking the trucks and equipment, and occasionally practicing controlled burns on dangerous abandoned buildings. I felt so lucky to be included in many of these meetings with my Dad. I eagerly volunteered to work on the grass fires, beating them out with rakes, brooms and hand-carried pump water cylinders when I was in my teens.
 
In the early years, the fire siren would sound a code that told the firefighters what section of town the fire was in. In town firefighters would report to the firebarn, while the fellows that lived further out, as we did, would carry their uniforms and equipment in their cars. Later, the district installed Plectron radios that all firemen had in their homes.
 
As a youngster I used to go along on many calls with my Dad. I think that learning about the reality of life and death was important to me, and became horifically obvious when we dragged for drowning victims in the local river. And on a car accident call where I saw the remains of one of my friends in a vehicle that lost control and wrapped itself around a three-foot oak tree 15 feet in the air.
 
But the time that scared me the most was going to a fire in town at a local lumberyard. Evidently Dad didn't think it was going to be too dangerous and allowed me to go along. The large 3-story warehouse was fully consumed... the fire had spread rapidly from the time it was reported, but the lumberyard was surrounded by hundreds of homes. It quickly became a 5-alarm, but our town guys went in first. The three-story barn-type storage building threatened all the surrounding homes. Dad was on the first hose crew in...he was always the anchorman, with three hosemen and a nozzleman ahead of him.
 
To get to the heart of the fire they entered the area that had been the huge side door of the warehouse. I was standing quite a safe distance away. And when that hose crew approached that door area, the wall of the building collapsed outward in sparks and fire with my Dad and the rest of the crew somewhere inside. I froze in place. It seemed forever, but the hose crew came running out through four inch burning timbers. This was thirty years before firefighters were equipped with breathing apparatus.
 
I wasn't able to carry on the tradition of working on the local Fire Department because I worked in areas too far away to respond. However, I spent seven years on a corporate fire department on search and rescue in fires and chemical spills, etc. using breathing apparatus. Our team had the most training, and I'm thankful we never had to use it. But it felt good to know we could go in if called on. I began to understand some of the things that motivated my Dad and Grandfather, and the firefighters in SC.
 
Those fellows face that danger daily. Their families also have to deal with that danger daily. I hope the extended American community can contribute to easing the loss of these brave individuals from South Carolina. Their bravery is to be respected....their loss is to be lamented.
 

 
Until later.....DKHT

June 14, 2007  How Not to Mow the Lawn
 
The grass has grown early and rapidly this year because of the rains. I let this first growth go to seed before I cut it. By that time I had huge numbers of a native little bright yellow flowers whose name I know not (NO, they weren't dandelines!) interspersed with equally native Indian Paintbrushes. I wished I could mow the lawn and leave the flowers, but that would've been a fool's errand...the kind of thing my moron neighbor would attempt if he actually had an appreciation for anything natural.
 
I noticed my other neighbors out cheerfully mowing away. Some of their lawns looked like putting greens. I swear those people go out to their garage in Spring, give a gentle tug on their mower's engine which immediately comes to life, stale gas and all. They never have to add oil or sharpen the mower blades.
 
So, with high spirits I donned my official mowing uniform, which looks remarkably like the rest of my wardrobe only with permanent green grass stains and sufficient grease and oil stains to render it nearly waterproof. I cheerfully headed out to the third garage bay, where the riding mower, walk-behind mower, snowblower, weed eater, tree trimmers and assorted shovels, axes, chain saws and garden tools reside. It used to be the home of the big pontoon boat which was sold last year.
 
I inherited the Simplicity 12 hp riding mower from my dad. He's always had Simplicity mowers, and it was a joy-stick model that I used to mow 17 acres of lawns when I started my career in the lucrative field of professional mowing at the ripe young age of eight. This tractor is only 15 years old, has spent a lot of time in the shop, and has definitely seen better days. Dad jerry-rigged a snowplow from an earlier tractor and used this one to plow snow out of our two driveways before we got the snowblower. That takes a lot out of a small tractor. So, I'm hoping to nurse this ailing steed along until I move South. My Texas property requires a big tractor and two kinds of mower decks.
 
With High Expectations, I entered the Bay #3, popped the tractor's hood. There was a good-sized stain on the concrete floor...pure 30 weight non-detergent oil. There's always a big oil stain under the tractor. Why 30 weight, you ask? Both the motor and hydrostatic drive use 30 weight non-detergent, and both of them leak oil. After adding nearly a quart to the motor's crankcase, I went to fire up the trusty steed. Nothing! Absolutely nothing! The battery was flat, and there's no alternative way to start the motor. Back to Bay #1 of the garage to dig out one of the battery chargers I have strewn about my place for just such an occasion. I also noticed that I was short on gas, so I used this setback to run in to the local gas station to fill up a six gallon gas container. at $3.499 a gallon I first had to mortgage my house in order to buy gas for my friggin lawnmower. I suppose I've just accepted the big $$$ to fill up GeoTruk, but, when you're filling up a six gallon gas can and watching the costs increase at 3.5 times the gallons, it really hits home
 
Fresh gas in hand and a battery back at full charge only one day later, I decided to pull the mower blades and sharpen where necessary. That was a mistake. First of all, the totally blunt blade leading edges reminded me of the rocks I ran over last year. Each year the outgoing frost has pushed substantial rocks and boulders above ground. An inattentive mower operator will run over these potential missles, dulling the blades and knocking out a window or two. I was inattentive that day.
 
I gave the blades a cursory sharpening. Anything more vigorous whould've resulted in short steel stumps with no cutting edges remaining. In order to remove and replace these blades, it's necessary to dig out a couple of automotive ramps to raise the front of the mower high enough to crawl underneath to access the mounting bolts. So far, it's now Day 2 and nary a grass blade has been touched.
 
Day three of the Great Lawnmowing Debacle dawned bright and clear. I was confident that I'd covered all the bases. The Simplicity fired up without having to use any of the twenty cans of starting fluid I keep on hand for these occasions. I reversed out of Bay #3, lined up for the first grass pass, lowered the mower deck and engaged the mower drive. Sweet! Everything was working wonderfully! I began the first pass on the lawn.
 
That lasted about 10 minutes. The hydrostatic drive ceased to operate. I finessed the funky lever that operates the drive and managed to limp back to Bay #3. My guess was that the transmission oil had migrated to the concrete floor and no longer served it's transmission duty. There is a special sequence of procedures you must follow at this point. The cap for the transmission oil filler reservoir is inconveniently located in a hole in the heavy steel frame. This is an area that collects grass, dirt, bits of twigs and other nasty stuff that lies in wait for an opportunity to jump into the reservoir contaminating the oil and killing the transmission. So, the first thing is to pressure wash this compartment before removing the reservoir cap. Somewhere at the back of Bay #2 I found two 100 foot garden hoses and hooked them together and then to the hose bib at the house. After some rummaging I located the pressure washer in the workshop behind Bay #1. By sundown I had pressure washed the tractor and continued on to clean up the mower deck as well.
 
Day four also dawned bright and clear and I attempted to remove the reservoir cap. If you're not careful, you'll unscrew the entire reservoir and that'll take at least a week to try to reinstall. Last summer I wasn't careful. This time I shoved a finger through the access hole to hold the reservoir while I unscrewed the cap. Did I mention that the frame access hole has razor sharp edges? A quick trip to the medicine chest and I looked like a worst case ad for Band Aids, but I was ultimately able to get the reservoir cap off. Sure enough, the oil level was low. So low that I couldn't see any oil at all. Another quart of good 'ole 30 weight (I buy in bulk) and the tractor was good to go....except I had a dentist's appointment and had to clean up and get into town.
 
It rained all day on day 5.
 
Day 6 dawned unremarkably. Except it became the first day of this season that topped 84 degrees F. I begin to sweat at 82 degrees. Mowing my lawn tends to be a rather dirty affair because there are places where grass hardly grows but dust and dirt raised by the passing mower, combined with supremely wet skin makes me look like Pigpen from the Peanuts comic strip, only dirtier. After a few brief hours and six days after I started this quest, the 3/4 acres of lawn finally got mowed.
 
Now, if I could only find that gas weed eater that I used three years ago!
 
Until later.....DKHT

June 07, 2007  Friendships and Black-Eyed Susans
 
I was recently pleased to hear from another friend, Linda (P) from way back when I worked at Quaker Oats Research facility in Barrington, Illinois. One of my old-time pals, Bob (A) has kept in touch over the years since I left QO R&D back in 1978 and recently emailed some pictures of several Quakers that attended his daughter's wedding earlier this year. Linda was featured in several of those pics, and triggered some thoughts about my own picture library.
 
I had been going through some of the old slide pictures that I scanned with my Visioneer One Touch 9120 USB scanner that has a special backlight feature for scanning slides. In previewing the many slides I have (I have no idea why I took so many pics on slide film back then since I never owned a slide projector!) I first put all the slides that were already beginning to "wash out" in a batch to be processed first. The Great QO R&D Turtle Lake Outing of 1978 was among this special batch.
 
I decided to send Bob a few pics that included Linda and a bunch of other friends from QO as we enjoyed a weekend of sailing, boating and goofing around on the lake where Bill (W) had his camper trailer parked. Anyway, Bob sent the pics on to Linda, along with my email address, and it wasn't long before I heard from her. And it was a pleasant surprise! In just a few emails we've almost caught up on almost 30 years of what we've been up to. We've reminisced about some of the old QO outings with the numerous rafting adventures on Wisconsin's wild Wolf River being among the highlights.
 
A few years back my old HS class had a reunion that I was unfortunately unable to attend. However, emails flew over the internet in preparation for the event had a domino effect on spreading the word via email. The result involved a huge listing of former classmates and fiends on a special website. I was able to reunite with several friends as well as the pals I've been in contact with for years..
 
I look forward to keeping in touch with them all (so far, nine) of the QO friends I've managed to be in touch with, as well as the HS pals from those "Happy Days". As I have traveled in my work and in my life, I have met several wonderful people and developed great friendships. I can honestly say that old friends are the best friends.....And I expect some flak from using the term "old", since we are all young in our hearts, and I just use that term to stress friendships made earlier in our lives. Maybe it's because we feel so comfortable with each other's company. Maybe it's the comfort of familiarity. Maybe it's partly because we recall wonderful times that will never be replicated.
 
Now, to be totally honest, I must admit that I've been fortunate to have developed several recent friendships that I totally cherish. My life would be far emptier without my good friend Paul, website host, techno-guru and occasional beer drinking and geocaching buddy, my geocaching pal, Grace, and the always unpredictable email pal, Suzanne D from NC who will be contributing to a new "Favorites" feature on this site.
 
I just received a photo cd of parts of my property in TX, recently taken by my mom and cousin Sue. With the needed rains down there, my property is being reclaimed by native plantlife. A variety of native flowers and grasses have overtaken the excavated, muddy areas that were left after the necessary bulldozing. In just a year, native plants began to stabilize barren Texas red dirt. The Black Eyed Susan are dominant. These were never observed on the property in the years prior. But now they proliferate.
 

 

 
Until later.....DKHT