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.
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.
Weed, who are you calling a weed?
Copyright © 2014 Craig Briggs
*************************************************************************
To find out more about a stay at Campo Verde and Galicia in general, visit our website getaway-galicia
Craig’s book, Journey To A Dream, is available exclusively from Amazon, to purchase your copy click here for your national Amazon store.
Find out more about Craig, and Galicia or look him up on Facebook