How to get a 400 and Haybine unstuck.

Then when That does not work. You call the neighbor who has a 1486 and he pulls you out with no problem.

Two things were learned from this. The neighbor dosen't give tractor driving tips anymore, and I don't plant corn up on that hill.

The closest I can come to that story is the time I fired up my Oldsmobile on a cold morning to go to work. It was thundering away in high idle when I realized I had forgotten my lunch. The automatic transmissions gear selector indicating needle was sloppy at best and when I threw it back into what I thought was Park and was able to take my foot off the brake pedal I got out of the car to go back into the house to get my lunch. I had never had any trouble before by using the "counting of clicks" method of determining what gear I was in. Sadly this day it was not to be so. I was in a hurry and quickly got out to retrieve my lunch. I had not gotten far from the car when I heard the ominous sound of the car clicking into gear--a thing which still puzzles me somewhat to this day. In retrospect I think what happened was that in my hurry I had shifted all the way to First and then counted the clicks back to what must have been Neutral. It must have been just barely in the Neutral position--close enough to slide into Drive. At any rate I sustained a moment of shock, my face blanched and the car lurched forward shooting out of the driveway and began to rocket accross the road charting a course for the front of the neighbors house with me in heart pounding pursuit.

My dilemna was complicated by a number of facts comming together to my disadvantage--1) The car was in fast idle and moving at an incredible rate of speed made all the worse by the fact that I had to--2) Open the door on the run and keep it open without the benefit of a door spring which had long since ceased to be attached to the door as an aid in keeping it open--3) Hop along on one foot at a fantastic rate of speed while trying to get my right foot in the car and remotely aimed at the brake pedal since I had no possible chance of stooping down, keeping the door open, maintaining pace and reaching for the key or pulling back the gear selector back into Park--or worse yet into Reverse--given my present one legged sprint--4) It was a very frosty morning and the grass was frozen, threatening at every moment to cause me to upset my precarious and desperate one legged gait--and finally--5) The disturbing knowledge that the neighbors house was beginning to loom disturbingly close and that the moment of crisis was rapidly approacing. It had dawned on me that given my awkward position and the angle at which I was going to have to take one desperately frantic lunge at the brake pedal, I had about even chances that I would tromp down on the accelerator with disasterous results, since I was doing good simply to keep both pace and my balance, let alone accurately aim my foot with a do or die one stab at an awkward moving target that seemed suddenly smaller than I had ever realized.

I seized the top of the door with my left hand the top of the car with my right and and catapulted my body with a mightly swing that would have made an Olympic gymnast envious. This had the simultaneous effect of--(luckily) landing my foot on the brake--putting the car into a powerful slide which given my unsteady grasp shot me forward into the car slamming my head against the top of the door frame and then into the steering wheel while the rest of my body shot forward into what ever space momentum and its last trajectory now directed it. The car stopped around 15 feet short of the neighbors house, which by chance would have been his bedroom at the point of impact. There were now two long skid marks on his lawn and a pile of sod in front of my tires, a car still screaming at high idle and a badly shaken and bruised driver whose thoughts immediately turned to how to rapidly exit the scene and retrieve what little dignity I had left before I was seen and had to explain just what I was doing there at 5:30 in the morning tearing up his lawn. Fueled by adrenelin I overcame my pain and I didn't lose a second in throwing it into Reverse and punching the accelerator to the floor, retracing my course to the road and turning a gracefully sliding arc in Reverse with the front end of the Olds coming to rest on the road that would have done Jim Rockford of the "Rockford Files" credit. With the end to this debacle now in sight I threw it back into Forward and exited the scene with the pedal nearly to the floor.

Safely ensconced in my car, my breathing began to return to normal and I uttered a silent prayer of thanks that I had narrowly avoided catastrophe.

That neighbor had never waved or made eye contact with me as long as I lived there--both before and after the self willed car episode. So I was easily able to squelch any qualms over not coming forth with an explanation as to the two ruts that I left him with that morning. I never did volunteer any information. I did wonder with a wry smile just how he must have puzzled over the evidence left behind of my near tradgedy. Perhaps he surmised it was a ghost car.

Not caring for a repeat performance I made it a point to fix that gear shift indicator at an early opportunity. I had been very fortunate indeed. I seriously considered staying home that day to recover and would have done so had I not wanted even more to simply get out of there. It makes a good story now. I'm sure it would have been humorous beyond words and a priceless memory for someone to have witnessed the entire episode. I only wish I could have been that person.

In my foolish days growing up on the farm, I took our LPG 400, tri-cycle front fishing, down in our creek bottoms a week or so after a flash flood. I hooked up the old John Deere corn picking wagon to haul all the fishin poles and tackle.

Being a Teenager -Heck I knew everything, it was plenty dry down there by now. My best friend and I desperately needed to go fishing in the creek for some Channel Cats being out of school for the summer.

We set out only to find about 1/3 of the way across the field, that crusty, dry cracked looking dirt that looked so dry on top had no bottom to it at all. The front end went down and there we sat, it was about straight up noon.

Dad got home from work at 530 so we were on a time schedule to get it unstuck. We went back and forth only to find the wagon sinking and making ruts. Then the rear tires were getting in about to the bottom of the axles. The belly of the transmission and rearend were rubbing on the ground and due to the water table the front tires were no longer visible. OH DEAR - - -

This only made us more desperate. We had to get it out, dad would just kill us!!!

We unhooked the JD wagon, we found some old dead elm branches and logs and could lift one corner of the wagon up at a time and put items under the wheels. After about and hour we managed to get the wagon about 50 feet back up on higher ground. I think the tractor was sinking while we were working with the wagon.

We first drove forward and backwards as much as possible and wallowed out tracks with the front wheels and the rear tires. It just would not climb up out of the ruts.

We finally decided we could use the dead elm branches as a ramp to climb the tires up out of the ruts, only problem was the field had standing water ahead of us so we needed to climb out backwards.

We had planned to parallel the low spots of standing water and cross the field between the standing water areas, so much for our KNOWING IT ALL!!!

Well, a couple attempts going backwards we realized that wasnt going to work so we put brances and logs in the ruts to ramp out in the forward direction. I told my buddy, if this doesnt work, I am going to be dead anyway cause dad is going to kill me. By now it was about 4 pm and the clock was ticking.

We tried getting out forward, even in 4th gear, those of you familiar with a 400 Farmall, the highest gear before Road Gear..... ..we could not get out, we just couldnt get enuff speed with the slipping of the tires on the branches.

Well we are now on plan h or i, we took the branches out from the reverse direction and let the tractor dig backwards as much as it could. By this time, you could step off on teh ground from the pedistal where your feet sit on the platform. There was water ticking on the fan blades, there was mud coming up on the sides of the motor just under the carburetor,intake thingy for the lpg stuff on the left side, belts were slipping, oh man was dad going to kills us. The 2 point fast hitch was buried and high centering us. You couldnt even see the rear axles. I wish we had a camera, but then again I would have hated for dad to see it.

Well, after going backwards for about 45 minutes and digging with sticks and logs and branches and prying against the front wheels, we finally manged to get ruts wallowed out about 6 feet long.

I told my buddy, this is it, we are going to put a few more branches in the ruts, to try to raise up off the high center and maybe we can get enuff momentum to get out. Well a couple trys in 4th gear only netted us tears as it was near 5 now and dad was close. I told my buddy, hey, lets put in just a few more branches and I am going to see if I can get it to launch in Road Gear with the T/A back.

I did just that, I forgot to mention all this time we would just open her up and then get off and pry with logs and things to help push on the tractor.

Well, I put her in road gear, opened her up, pulled back the T/A and popped the clutch..... ..holy cow, did the MUCK FLY, I jumped off to help pry with the logs against the axles. All of a sudden something happened, I think it must have been the hand of God. The tractor burst ahead and climbed out of the ruts leaving me and my buddy standing in the mud. We kinda did that OH CRAP look at each other then took off chasing the tractor.

The tractor had taken off in road gear!!! It was headed for the standing water, two teenagers in full sprint trying to catch up. When it got to the water, it seemed to only gain speed, we were trying to catch up.

I dont think I mentioned that across this field was the Creek that we were going to go fishing in. Oh dear..... .I was picturing the tractor going down the bank and then sinking in the creek!!! I ran faster..... ...its hard to run in chore boots in the mud and water and they came off, that is what saved the day..... ...now running in soaked muddy socks I was faster.

I caught the tractor about half way across the field, grabbed the back of the seat and somehow stepped on the drawbar. It all happened so fast.

I got up to the seat, cranked the wheels and turned back and then hit the high side of road gear to try to make the trek back through the water and mud. Man I felt like the Red Baron heading for the final pass on an airborne strike.

About half way through the water and mud I had to grab the T/A but she pulled through. Me and my buddy were elated, we hitched the JD wagon back up and headed for Grandmas. We had 15 minutes until judgement day.

Grandma was beside herself, we were mud from head to toe and the tractor was mud, there wasnt much red paint visible.

We got it somewhat cleaned before dad arrived and he scoled us right good. We never got any fishing done. He told us that he didnt even want to see the ruts we made, funny thing is you couldnt, they pretty much filled up with water.

We were punished with the duty of cleaning dads tractor spotless. Oh yea, I mean spotless. They didnt have power washers back then either. It took us two full days to clean that tractor.

I think dad could tell by the sight of us we had learned a valuable lesson. 5 hours of being stuck, 5 hours of impending death, I am sure dad wouldnt have killed us but it would have for sure been a near death experience.

What a great memory for me and my best friend, we lived to tell about it. We talk about it often, especially when its time to go fishing.

Hope you all enjoy this long post. I am sure I could have got that 400 out for you with some sticks - HA

Handiest thing I have is a 10 ft length of good 3/8" chain. It always hangs on the axle housing of the H. If that fails, I go get the neighbor.

scotty

Thourghly enjoyed your memeory!! That was just great.

Allan

Guy had a big (size?) John Deere 4 wheel drive buried to the axles and beyond. My brother laughed and told him he was wasting his time looking for another tractor to pull him out - he needed a fair sized dozer at least. Couldn't find a dozer available but a local crane operator happened to be off that afternoon and also just happened to have the needed pulley set up. The crane was tested a bit dragging that thing out.

The farmer was a bit miffed when his bill came to $600. Didn't help him any when I told him most operators would have charged a minimum of $1000 for any part of a day a crane that size was in operation.

When I was younger my dad had a bad habit of handing us boys a shovel to dig out anything we happened to get stuck. Thought we'd learn to stay the **** out of the wet spots after digging in mud for 3 to 8 hours. One brother holds the record having to dig a trench the width of the tractor (856) for over 40 feet at varying depths over the course of two days with occasional visits from my dad to give him a "word" (and boot) of encouragement. Over twenty years ago and he still complains about it.

I will have to share my experience pulling a loaded hay wagon down a hill with a Ford 2N in front of it trying to slow it down..... ....Bad Bad idea!!! A 2N Ford cannot outrun a wagon load of hay down a hill.

I swear I must have worn out several guardian angels in my youth.