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You Little Beauty

19/3/2014

4 Comments

 
Unseasonably warm weather is an opportunity not to be missed. The grapevines are pruned; ready for the coming season. My next task is to till the ground between the rows. Brilliant sunshine and damp soil transform dormant winter weeds into ravaging triffids.
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In years gone by, weeding the vineyard was one of my least favourite jobs: hour after hour of back breaking labour, wielding a mattock. Nowadays; in a perverse kind of way, I quite enjoy it. 

This unexpected change of heart coincided with the acquisition of a rotavator. She’s a little beauty, fire engine-red with a powerful, single cylinder 4.5 horse power petrol engine.

During the winter months she sits in a corner of the shed, waiting to spring into action. Unfortunately, spring start-ups tend to be a slow affair. 

Carefully, I wheeled her out from the shed and stood her straight and level on the terrace. Sympathetic to her extended break, I twisted open the dip-stick and checked her fluid level. She was a bit on the low side. Taking care not to spill, I topped up the oil and she was ready for off. 
 
Hand on handlebars we walked across the garden and into the vineyard. The bright sunshine reflected off her gleaming-red paintwork. I adjusted the transporting wheel and lowered her row of tines onto the weedy ground. So far she’d been the perfect workmate, and I the attentive handler.
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The operating controls couldn’t be simpler. On the left hand side of the handlebars is the throttle control. The lever has three settings; full choke to assist cold starts, the symbol of a tortoise indicating slow, and a hare indicating fast. On the right hand side another lever engages the transmission. What could be simpler? All I had to do was coax her into life.

I slid the throttle lever into the full choke position and grabbed the starter pull cord. This is where things become slightly less predictable and a hell of a lot more physical. After a long, damp winter, getting her going usually proves problematic. Summoning all my strength I yanked on the starter cord. Nothing: not a cough or a splutter. I pulled again, and again, and again. Fatigue started to set in. 

As my strength drained, my rhythm became more erratic: the recoil trap loomed. 

I was rapidly reaching the point when an under strength tug could initiate a ferocious starter recoil resulting in agonising shoulder whiplash; and believe me, when that happens it chuffing hurts. On this occasion I managed to avoid this unpleasant experience and on my eighth almighty effort she exploded into life. 

A long lay-off and a cylinder smothered in engine oil form a lethal combination. As she burst into life, plumes of blue smoke ejected from the exhaust billowed into the air. As she emptied her cylinder, I filled my lungs. Like two old smokers, the pair of us coughed and spluttered. Within a minute she’d burnt away any remaining oil deposits and I’d emptied my lungs of carbon monoxide.
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Now for the real challenge: like a Grecian wrestler I took a firm grip of the handlebars and prepared for the ride of my life. Engaging the transmission sent my wrestling partner leaping into action. Up and down, side to side, a relentless battle of man against machine and machine against the earth. Four hours later and the first round of hostilities drew to a close. I was exhausted, my swollen arms screamed in pain and my bruised knees throbbed but together we’d reined supreme. 

Weed, who are you calling a weed? 
 
Copyright © 2014 Craig Briggs

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To find out more about a stay at Campo Verde and Galicia in general, visit our website getaway-galicia 

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4 Comments
Susan Jane Sharpe link
18/3/2014 11:32:25 pm

I love my rotavator! (check the link) :-)

Reply
Craig
19/3/2014 05:00:36 am

Sue, there's no link and I'm dying to see what it is - send another, please.

Reply
Susan Jane Sharpe link
19/3/2014 05:04:31 am

http://www.hiddenspain.info/wordpress/2012/10/24/concrete-or-blancmange/

Craig
19/3/2014 07:19:48 pm

Phil seems to have got the right idea. You could say that a rotavator is the Spanish equivalent of a visit to a health spa - I'm not sure I'll be able to convince her indoors of that though, Sue.

Reply



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