Plowing Sidewalks With the Farmall H
I got the tractor bug a year ago and bought a nice old Ferguson to fool around with on our piece of land. It is my first tractor, but as a kid I did some farm labor and got to drive a few tractors, mostly a Farmall A and H. So I was always pretty nostalgic for the Farmall brand, and always thought I might get one.
But I switched my loyalty from Farmall to Ferguson after learning about the importance of the 3 point system. I really like my Ferguson, and bonded with it quickly, and I like most everything about it better than the Farmalls. It's small, is a lot lighter than an H with about the same horsepower, is a lot lower, and is cuter, IMO. Oh, and the 3 point hitch is really handy.
But back to Farmalls. I got to know a guy who has the contract for plowing the Rochester NY city sidewalks, and he does it with a fleet of Farmall H's. He offered me some part-time work plowing for some extra money, and I decided to give it a try.
I can tell you, these H's are battle wagons. I think they probably get worked a lot harder plowing snow than working a farm. They get driven up and off curbs, the giant plows bang into stuff, they are working the hydraulics constantly, and push through heavy snow, wide open, in 4th gear, in freezing and wet conditions. To think they have been doing this for decades, after probably having been retired as farm tractors, is a real endorsement of their ruggedness.
They carry a huge V plow on the front, and I can't imagine what it weighs. The Ferguson guys caution about carrying a front loader on their tractors, because the weight might break the axles. I've never hear of this happening on one of these H's.
Damn, 25 hp is a lot of power. It seems like this machine will chug through anything.
This is an interesting adventure, and a crash course in tractor handling. After horsing these monsters around the city streets, puttering around on my Ferguson in my field is child's play. I have become a lot more confident in the stability and solid handling of these old machines.
The work is a somewhat surreal experience for this rural/suburban boy. At 3 a.m. during a snowstorm, all alone on the deserted inner-city residential/industrial back streets, it often seems like the Farmall and I are the only living beings around. I am truly on my own out there all night in the wilderness, hurtling the terrible iron beast through a narrow tunnel of dim yellow headlight beam poking through the swirling snow.
Like the character "Chef", in "Apocalypse Now", I keep reminding myself: "Never get off the tractor."
My first night, after the first hour I had definitely had enough. The physical work was brutal, my face was crusted with ice, there was slush in my long johns, I hurt bad all over, I was drowning in monoxide from the shorty exhaust pipe blowing in my face, and I had no idea where I was, lost on the dark mean streets. I planned to finish out the shift so as to not leave the owner in the lurch, but would then inform him I was too friggin' old for this, and wouldn't be returning.
That first night, after having received about 30 seconds of training, during a tricky elaborate k-turn in the middle of an intersection bordered by a shuttered factory, abandoned houses, an empty lot, and unused train tracks, I accidentally hit the kill switch with my knee. Not having driven a Farmall since I was about 12, I wasn't that familiar with the switches. All of a sudden one feels pretty vulnerable in the dark, with the lights dimming, the reassuring roar of the mighty 4-cylinder replaced by deafening silence and falling snow. "Never get off the tractor". After randomly flipping some switches I got the mighty H rolling again.
After finally finishing my route several hours later, I lurched in my front door as my family was getting ready for work and school, and fell into bed.
When I woke up, I drank my coffee as I perused Google Earth, looking at my route. Ah! There's that rock wall I clipped because it was hidden under a drift. There's the tree branch that hung so low over the sidewalk it almost knocked me from my mount, like a funny scene in a western movie. There's the place I accidentally plowed where there wasn't a sidewalk. There's where the tricycle front gear decided not to grip during a turn and almost caused me to remodel a Prius with the plow's iron prow. There's the utility pole I took a big bite out of.
I started reviewing the route and trying to figure out how it could be plowed more efficiently than my seemingly random meanderings. Unbelievably, I gradually got to the point where I couldn't wait to do it again, and have been plowing all winter.
I can't help but think this is trickier tractor driving than farm work, but most of the farm work I did was pulling a hay wagon, picking up bales.
But this plow work, I don't have enough hands and feet. The steering is really unpredictable, with the narrow front tires sliding across the snow during a sharp turn. And it's a lot of sharp turns over the 15 miles of sidewalk I plow every snowy night. I hurl this thing around in a sharp u-turn to swing it over to the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street, usually standing on the left brake to give it a tighter pivot. This all takes place in about 10 seconds while I throttle down in 4th gear, lift the plow before I clutch, check for traffic, and swing around the intersection, line up where I hope the curb cut is on the end of the sidewalk, drop the plow, cheat some more speed off with the clutch, feel around a bit for the curb cut, or if I miss it, really slowly ease the plow over the curb, with the tractor following- watch out for that fire plug!- punch the throttle, glance ahead and DANG! Someone two driveways ahead has parked their car blocking the sidewalk! I won't go into the details about what I have to do in that situation.
I was worried I would get sleepy working in the wee hours of the morning, but it's the opposite. It can be so hairy, and requires such concentration and physical strain, that I am on an adrenaline rush all night.
Is winter over? I may be done plowing for this season. I'll miss it.
So I still love my little Ferguson, but I have a strong respect for these mighty Farmalls.
Sorry this is so long, but I figured some of you might get a kick out of it.
David
I got the tractor bug a year ago and bought a nice old Ferguson to fool around with on our piece of land. It is my first tractor, but as a kid I did some farm labor and got to drive a few tractors, mostly a Farmall A and H. So I was always pretty nostalgic for the Farmall brand, and always thought I might get one.
But I switched my loyalty from Farmall to Ferguson after learning about the importance of the 3 point system. I really like my Ferguson, and bonded with it quickly, and I like most everything about it better than the Farmalls. It's small, is a lot lighter than an H with about the same horsepower, is a lot lower, and is cuter, IMO. Oh, and the 3 point hitch is really handy.
But back to Farmalls. I got to know a guy who has the contract for plowing the Rochester NY city sidewalks, and he does it with a fleet of Farmall H's. He offered me some part-time work plowing for some extra money, and I decided to give it a try.
I can tell you, these H's are battle wagons. I think they probably get worked a lot harder plowing snow than working a farm. They get driven up and off curbs, the giant plows bang into stuff, they are working the hydraulics constantly, and push through heavy snow, wide open, in 4th gear, in freezing and wet conditions. To think they have been doing this for decades, after probably having been retired as farm tractors, is a real endorsement of their ruggedness.
They carry a huge V plow on the front, and I can't imagine what it weighs. The Ferguson guys caution about carrying a front loader on their tractors, because the weight might break the axles. I've never hear of this happening on one of these H's.
Damn, 25 hp is a lot of power. It seems like this machine will chug through anything.
This is an interesting adventure, and a crash course in tractor handling. After horsing these monsters around the city streets, puttering around on my Ferguson in my field is child's play. I have become a lot more confident in the stability and solid handling of these old machines.
The work is a somewhat surreal experience for this rural/suburban boy. At 3 a.m. during a snowstorm, all alone on the deserted inner-city residential/industrial back streets, it often seems like the Farmall and I are the only living beings around. I am truly on my own out there all night in the wilderness, hurtling the terrible iron beast through a narrow tunnel of dim yellow headlight beam poking through the swirling snow.
Like the character "Chef", in "Apocalypse Now", I keep reminding myself: "Never get off the tractor."
My first night, after the first hour I had definitely had enough. The physical work was brutal, my face was crusted with ice, there was slush in my long johns, I hurt bad all over, I was drowning in monoxide from the shorty exhaust pipe blowing in my face, and I had no idea where I was, lost on the dark mean streets. I planned to finish out the shift so as to not leave the owner in the lurch, but would then inform him I was too friggin' old for this, and wouldn't be returning.
That first night, after having received about 30 seconds of training, during a tricky elaborate k-turn in the middle of an intersection bordered by a shuttered factory, abandoned houses, an empty lot, and unused train tracks, I accidentally hit the kill switch with my knee. Not having driven a Farmall since I was about 12, I wasn't that familiar with the switches. All of a sudden one feels pretty vulnerable in the dark, with the lights dimming, the reassuring roar of the mighty 4-cylinder replaced by deafening silence and falling snow. "Never get off the tractor". After randomly flipping some switches I got the mighty H rolling again.
After finally finishing my route several hours later, I lurched in my front door as my family was getting ready for work and school, and fell into bed.
When I woke up, I drank my coffee as I perused Google Earth, looking at my route. Ah! There's that rock wall I clipped because it was hidden under a drift. There's the tree branch that hung so low over the sidewalk it almost knocked me from my mount, like a funny scene in a western movie. There's the place I accidentally plowed where there wasn't a sidewalk. There's where the tricycle front gear decided not to grip during a turn and almost caused me to remodel a Prius with the plow's iron prow. There's the utility pole I took a big bite out of.
I started reviewing the route and trying to figure out how it could be plowed more efficiently than my seemingly random meanderings. Unbelievably, I gradually got to the point where I couldn't wait to do it again, and have been plowing all winter.
I can't help but think this is trickier tractor driving than farm work, but most of the farm work I did was pulling a hay wagon, picking up bales.
But this plow work, I don't have enough hands and feet. The steering is really unpredictable, with the narrow front tires sliding across the snow during a sharp turn. And it's a lot of sharp turns over the 15 miles of sidewalk I plow every snowy night. I hurl this thing around in a sharp u-turn to swing it over to the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street, usually standing on the left brake to give it a tighter pivot. This all takes place in about 10 seconds while I throttle down in 4th gear, lift the plow before I clutch, check for traffic, and swing around the intersection, line up where I hope the curb cut is on the end of the sidewalk, drop the plow, cheat some more speed off with the clutch, feel around a bit for the curb cut, or if I miss it, really slowly ease the plow over the curb, with the tractor following- watch out for that fire plug!- punch the throttle, glance ahead and DANG! Someone two driveways ahead has parked their car blocking the sidewalk! I won't go into the details about what I have to do in that situation.
I was worried I would get sleepy working in the wee hours of the morning, but it's the opposite. It can be so hairy, and requires such concentration and physical strain, that I am on an adrenaline rush all night.
Is winter over? I may be done plowing for this season. I'll miss it.
So I still love my little Ferguson, but I have a strong respect for these mighty Farmalls.
Sorry this is so long, but I figured some of you might get a kick out of it.
David