July 15, 2015 - Tuesday
41 degrees/clear/calm
Pentoga Road

Monday was one of the most least-exciting (or fun) days I've experienced in a long time. It was *yawn* day of fixing the riding mower.

The morning began with a drive to town to purchase a few groceries. The high point of that trip was stopping by the plant and visiting for a few minutes with Yooper Brother Mark. Even that was cut short when a large tandem truck, filled with logs, pulled in needing Mark's attention.

It was cloudy, windy, and chilly; no better time than present to tackle the problems of the riding mower. 

The machine is six years old and has been ridden hard and put away wet. When I first purchased our home, the yard was the size of a postage stamp. The trails were almost non existent and the meadows were fields of brush and debris. 



I don't want to say the Cub Cadet was used as much as a bush hog (which I also own and used at the time) as a lawn mower, but it cut its fair share of heavy weeds with occasional brush. In those weeds were rocks, lots of rocks. To say the mower was abused would be an understatement.

It's time to purchase a new one, but there are more urgent priorities. Consequently, the Cub will continue to be repaired and babied along. 

A pulley had worn and cable frayed, both used in the lifting mechanism of the deck. Normally, I'd take the machine to the mechanic's, but my trailer is being loaded with wood. It's all about priorities. I decided to do the job myself.

The problem lies deep within the caverns of the mower. How to get to it?

It took an hour to figure out how to get to the inside of the frame to remove one pin holding the cable. Hmm, no easy fix there. I needed a new cable.



A trip was made to the local Cub Cadet dealer. It wasn't long and I was driving back home.

Once the machine was apart, the fix was simple. Why, I could do this. Why was I so worried? Another hour later, the mower was back together and I was doing a dance of joy. I could have been a mechanic rather than a school teacher. My buddy, Scotty, a real mechanic who lives in Atlanta, should have been here. He'd have been so proud of me.



I started the mower, zoomed out into one of the meadows for a test run, and promptly hit a tree root knocking off the same wheel I'd welded back on two days previous. 

So much for feeling good.

I'll just say the rest of the day was spent removing the deck, cleaning the old weld, grinding, sanding, cussing, clamping, and re-welding the bracket that holds the wheel. 



While I had everything torn apart again, I sharpened two old blades and put those on. Might as well finish the season in style. It was almost 4 PM when I once again took the mower for a test drive. It worked flawlessly.



I needed something to make me feel better. Since I quit drinking years ago, I decided to do the next best thing, go meet Sargie after work and take her out for supper. I gathered what little self esteem was left, zipped through the shower, and drove to Iron Mountain. 

And it worked. We gabbed and laughed through our meal at a Chinese buffet and by the time we arrived back at Pentoga Road, my mechanical mojo had once again been restored. I'd live to fix the mower another day.

We took a short walk to work off some of the Seafood Ching Chang Walla Walla Bing Bang that both of us had found so tasty and spent the rest of the evening watching America's Got Talent. 

We'll be heading back to Iron Mountain after while. Sargie closes tonight. It'll be a long day for my favorite optician in the whole wide world. I need to pick up a few things while in town and get the oil changed in the Blazer. 

Some people have their Teddy bears, I have my bulldog. He fell asleep last night using my feet as a pillow. That's what you call pure love and loyalty.

Meanwhile, the coffee's done and the news is hot off the press. Time to sip and listen.

After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road... 

Walking off our Seafood Ching Chang Walla Walla Bing Bang