One day I
took a transmission apart and fixed it.
That really doesn't describe what
happened, lets try that again.
One Saturday afternoon I decided to fix up the old riding
lawn mower a friend had given me.
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This was a freebee, kind of a long-term project, no chance I
would get it fixed in time to use it for mowing this year. At the time I was
still intimidated by the engine, so I
decided to start on the transmission. I was intimidated by the transmission too,
but not nearly as much.
The temperature was just on the high
side of warm, but the porch I was using as a table was in the shade and there
was a gentle breeze blowing.
I
start taking the transaxle off, bagging each part in Ziploc, taking my time,
using wrenches instead of a socket and ratchet. I'm in no hurry, I have all afternoon to do this, and have no other pending
plans.
There's a young woman in the house watching TV. All is right with the
world.
I put the transaxle in an old washtub, and fill it about
half full of gasoline through one of the drain holes. After a little sloshing
around, I drain the oil and gas into the washtub, to go into the barrel for
eventual recycling, or use with an oil burner on the foundry furnace, I haven't
decided yet.
As I carefully and
methodically pull apart this device I know nothing about, cleaning each part off
before bagging it, I notice the birds are singing in the trees.
As I get it apart, I discover the
reason it isn't working. Three of the gears in the thing are missing teeth. The
main drive gear is completely toothless. Ah, that would cause it not to
work.
I finish taking it apart, and bag all the pieces.
Later that
evening, I have a flash of brilliance, (hey, it happens occasionally), I Google
"lawn mower parts", and send an email asking for help identifying the transaxle
to the top twelve hits. This is a saturday, but I get an immediate response
from two of the victims.
One of these respondents had rebuilt
"hundreds" of this exact model transmission, tells me what to check, what the
rules of thumb are, which parts need replacing, what I can get away with not
fixing, how to check this, that, and the other thing. I buy all my parts from
him.
A very enjoyable day. Almost
like building a boat.
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So, that
is the toothless gears part. Where does Zen, and boat building come
in?
To misquote Zen, or Ben, or someone,
or at least the Kung Fu master from an old western. "Revelation starts with
the simple statement, 'I don't
understand.'"
So, I find myself, now and again, working on something I
have never worked on before, muttering the infamous words "I don't
understand."
Then I poke at it and ponder over it till I *DO*
understand. The light dawns. How simple!
What I like about building a boat is
the problems. Not that I like all problems, mind you. For instance, the solution
to the problem "How to get this pretty young woman to fall in love with
me?" has always eluded me, and I suspect it always will. No, the problems I like
are of the solvable, engineering kind. "How do I build a 20 foot tall mast out
of 8 ft long boards?", or "How do I sand this hull smooth without
ending up in the hospital with back problems?".
As with toothless gears and lawn mowers, the real joy of
boat building comes from learning to do something you never thought you could do, that you have always been
intimidated by.
I've built six boats, from disposable (which lasted 5 years
before I gave them away) pirogue canoes, to 20 ft cabin cruisers. I've solved
most of the engineering problems with building a boat. You know the ones, "How
the hell am I going to get it out the door?", and "How do you
flip this huge thing over?", as well as the construction problems, like "How do
you make a round mast out of square
boards?", etc.
I have moved on to machinery and
small engines, which I have always had issues with.
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