Search Site   
News Stories at a Glance
Deere 4440 cab tractor racked up $18,000 at farm retirement auction
Indiana legislature passes bills for ag land purchases, broadband grants
Make spring planting safety plans early to avoid injuries
Michigan soybean grower visits Dubai to showcase U.S. products
Scientists are interested in eclipse effects on crops and livestock
U.S. retail meat demand for pork and beef both decreased in 2023
Iowa one of the few states to see farms increase in 2022 Ag Census
Trade, E15, GREET, tax credits the talk at Commodity Classic
Ohioan travels to Malta as part of US Grains Council trade mission
FFA members learn about Australian culture, agriculture during trip
Timing of Dicamba ruling may cause issues for 2024 planting
   
Archive
Search Archive  
   
Tractors on the old back forty had personality, too

It’s always fun to read about the days when farming was done with horses and mules. Farmers were quick to switch to tractors when they had the chance, but they knew the cold steel of the tractor would never replace the flesh and blood personality of the old workhorse.

Those of us who were born too late to witness the era of the horse will remember the old tractors had some personality, too. Every farm had several tractors when I was a kid, and each had its own little quirks.

Many of us learned to drive on a Ferguson, and these tractors certainly had a mind of their own. The Ferguson was small but it could get a kid in trouble if he didn’t remember its shortcomings.
There were foot brakes on both sides of these little beasts and a foot clutch on one side. I suppose a person who had three feet could push all three pedals at once, but the rest of us had to settle for jumping on the clutch with one foot and a brake with the other.
This would stop the tractor on the level or on a hill if you weren’t pulling a load. But with a heavy wagon or implement behind, a 90-pound kid was like a flea on a trampoline as he tried to exert enough force on the brake to stop the tractor.

So we had some excitement ahead if we were going downhill, or thrills behind if going uphill. Farmers tried to put most of their buildings on the high ground to keep the kids from crashing into them with the Ferguson.

I drove an old Oliver during my teen years, and this one had some drawbacks, too. If you turned the wheels of the Oliver really short and then hit something solid (like the edge of a furrow), the steering shaft would pop out of position. That meant I had no steering and probably should stop the tractor fairly soon. Ollie and I took out a few fence posts that way.

My brother’s John Deere B was the most fun to drive, because it was fast. We would hook the B to a rotary hoe, put ‘er in fifth gear and R-R-R-O-O-O-OM!

The old John Deere had a problem in the cylinders, causing it to spit little flecks of oil from the exhaust. The exhaust was on top of these tractors, right in front of the driver, so the kid driving the B was pretty well oiled by the end of the day.

We didn’t care, though. That film of oil, mixed with sun and dust, produced one of the nicest tans you’d ever want to see.

My dad bought a John Deere 60 about the same time my brother had the B. The 60 developed a glitch in the hand clutch that caused the clutch to re-engage if you pushed it too far forward. I learned this while pulling a hay wagon near the barn. (I never knew why barns needed all those little pieces of wood along the corners, anyway.)

My least favorite tractor was our old Allis-Chalmers. The Allis was fine as long as you kept it running, but if it died, the driver spent the rest of the day cranking. My brother, Jim, was the only one who could crank the Allis fast enough to start her when she was hot.
Jim is one of those people who could unload a wagon full of hay in about 10 minutes. If you made him mad, he could do it in two minutes.

That Allis made him mad nearly every day.

Readers with questions or comments for Roger Pond may write to him in care of this publication.

5/20/2009