When we moved last year, I assumed the used lawn tractor was part of the deal.
After all, the contraption was hardly the Lexus of mowers. A sub-brand of John Deere, the orange Scott’s 17-horsepower tractor was hibernating under the back deck in mud up to the hubs. The battery was dead and there were a multitude of other problems. So I figured the woman who sold the house would, in good faith, leave the mower for us cheapskates.
However, thanks to my lowball offer on the house, she chose to GIVE the tractor to our neighbor David rather than leave it for us. Even though he already had a perfectly good hoodless, smoking tractor.
After introducing myself and mentioning that I was in the market for a cheap tractor from Facebook’s Marketplace, David offered to sell me the Scott’s tractor that was now in his garage. To review: He sold us the tractor that was sort of ours in the first place.
Not a big deal, the price was $200.
And I soon discovered that like everything else, you get what you pay for.
For instance, the rear tires were as bald as Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. As accepting as I am of drag slicks, I soon l discovered that tires with tread work a lot better than the original tires worn down to the scalp.
Amazon sent me the tires and wheels and I mounted them easily enough.
And for a couple weeks, the tractor started up OK and mowed adequately enough. Then the battery began failing every week, which meant hauling the battery charger under the deck and running an extension cord up and over. Sometimes the mower started up after a few cranks and other times it cranked and died, cranked and died, etc.
When I got sick of bringing the mower back from the dead, I finally shot down to the auto parts store and bought a new battery.
OK, now I was good to go. Or was I?
I couldn’t help noticing the three blades were about as sharp as rolling pins. You know you need new blades when the grass is higher after you mow. Back to the hardware store for new blades, and because I installed them mulch-side up, I had to charge up the air compressor and introduce Mr. Impact Wrench to Mr. Lawnmowerdeck to face the blades in the right direction.
OK, new grippy rear tires, new blades and new battery. Now I was all set for years of maintenance-free mowing. Right?
Not so fast.
Originally, I thought I was burning up a tank of gas for each mow and I’d need to dump in a gallon before the start of a new mowing. Then it occurred to me that whatever gas was remaining in the tank was dripping out. Then I spotted the leak and tightened up the connection. Didn’t even need to buy a new fuel filter and line.
One afternoon, I bounced over a bunch of roots with enough velocity to uncouple the steering linkage. It would have been OK if I had located the washer and nut, but I didn’t. And since I didn’t have the patience to get online and hunt for the missing hardware, I figured I’d just rig up a piece of wire to more or less steer the tractor.
That was a few months back and so far the tractor steers well enough to not drift into trees and buildings again. In fact, it may even steer too well.
For instance, my wife Jen covered a pair of blueberry bushes with a soft mesh to keep birds and lawn tractors from driving over the berries. But I wanted to mow as close to the bushes as I could.
You probably know where this headed. While driving in tighter and tighter circles, I managed to suck a screen door amount of mesh into the tractor and around every blade. Not just one or two rotations. Dozens.
So I spent the next hour with needle-nose pliers and a filet knife sawing the mesh away from the deck so the mower no longer died when I engaged the blades.
Did I mention that the oil drain plug has been missing since forever? The previous owner stuffed a paper towel into the tube, and since I’m a firm believer of if-it-ain’t-broke-don’t-fix-it, there’s no reason to spend upward of $5 on a new plug.
Bounty — the quicker oil picker-upper.
Now you might be wondering why I wouldn’t just buy a new or newer tractor since this one was penny and nickeling me to death. There are two reasons.
Because the carburetor is in need of replacing, the tractor sounds like a nitromethane dragster. It’s ridiculously loud, complete with backfiring and crackling. I love it and encourage the neighbors on both sides to take field trip to another county on mowing day.
Secondly, it’s the fastest tractor I’ve ever owned. Fifth gear is zippier than at least 6 of the cars I’ve owned over the years. What it lacks in comfort, reliability and an even cut, it makes up with brash. It’s like owning a second Mustang.
I find it most enjoyable to press the brake, shift to fourth gear, lean far back in the seat and slip my foot off the brake. First time popping wheelies since I had my Schwinn in third grade.
My favorite scene in “Ford vs. Ferrari” is when Carroll Shelby (Matt Damon) strides to the edge of the speedway and hoists the hand-written sign for Ken Miles to drop the hammer: 7000+ (rpm) GO LIKE HELL.
Jen sketched out the same sign and our daughter Emerita held it up as I passed.
Not quite as fast as Shelby’s GT40, but I have plans and they involve completing the lawn in 8 minutes.
