We've had a small tiller for about thirty years, but have only used it once in the last ten years - to reseed a section of lawn. My wife wanted to sell it or take it to a church rummage sale. She keeps asking if I had tried starting it.
Last week I gave it a try without success. I said I would bring back some starter fluid from the cabin. I did and on Tuesday I took off the air cleaner, squirted some starter fluid in, and gave the starter rope a pull.
Rumble, a big poof of white exhaust, and then silence. Repeat, and repeat, and repeat, and ...
I said I'll get a new spark plug. I did that yesterday. I put the new spark plug in. I took off the air cleaner, squirted some starter fluid in, and gave the starter rope a pull.
Rumble, a big poof of white exhaust, and then silence. Repeat, and repeat, and repeat, and ...
We couldn't find the manual at home and assumed it was at our cabin. But the rummage sale was this week and we wouldn't go to our cabin until Saturday. I guess we'll have to wait until next year to donate it.
Last night I had some crazy dreams, but I never woke up until well after daybreak. I lay in bed pondering this and that. Suddenly I had vision of a little lever on the gas line under the fuel tank. I had never checked that when starting the tiller. Why should I? No other piece of yard equipment we have has a gas shut off.
After breakfast, I went to the garage and pulled the tiller out. Sure enough, the lever was in the off position. I turned it to on and gave the starter rope a pull. Nothing! And again. And again.
I took air filter off, squirted some starter fluid in, and gave the starter rope a pull. Rumble! A continuous cloud of white exhaust! The engine slowed down and sped up, slowed down and sped up, but it kept running.
I shut the tiller off, replaced the air filter, heaved it into the back of my truck, and secured it. Off we went to the church where I dropped the tiller and my wife off. I went to my regular Thursday coffee session.
When my wife came back in the afternoon, she said it had been sold for $25.
May the new owner enjoy fresh, home-grown vegetables for many a year.
And may all of us solve perplexing problems whenever we sleep on them.
