By Glen Wunderlich Outdoor Columnist Member Professional Outdoor Media Association
After reading comments from one Kathy Griffin on the opinion page of The Argus-Press (of Owosso, MI) last week, I had to agree with her conclusion that moral decency has taken a southbound turn with little chance of returning to the days of Andy Griffith and Mayberry. She wonders if society will ever be able to restore some of the standards of a moral and wholesome life. Ms. Griffin, I can tell you hope for such praise-worthy principles is alive and well.
I rediscovered the value of The Golden Rule in rural Grand Rapids, Ohio last weekend amid a gathering of tractor enthusiasts, while attending my first Cub Fest. (Cubs are tractors made by International Harvester and production began in 1947; they were extremely popular garden tractors in their day.) I learned of the event while at a tractor show in Apache Junction, Arizona this past March. As I stood looking over a Cub, one Bob Zimmerman approached and we began to talk. The conversation ended with an invitation to attend the event in northwest Ohio.
Owning a Cub of my own, I loaded it onto my trailer and headed south last Saturday, after the torrential downpour of the night before. As soon as I unloaded the machine, the connection to yesteryear began.
The camping area was well behind the farmhouse of host Rick Prentice and I was offered a ride on an International-red golf cart with all my gear. That sure was neighborly, I thought.
Back to where all the commotion was, I mingled under a portable shelter, where several men hovered over a Cub with a belly-mounted blade underneath. I learned that a young man in attendance had obtained the tractor from his grandparents and rode it some three miles to the gathering in hopes of getting a coolant leak repaired.
After removing the hood, the men were able to get to the source of the leak and had it repaired in short order. But, that wasn’t good enough. The little Cub’s get-up-and-go seemed to have got up and went and adjusting the air mixture on the carburetor didn’t help a bit.
On the other side of the tractor was Cecil, all the way from Albany, New York. He stated that the magneto was not mounted properly and was causing a timing malfunction. Off it came with the governor. I asked Cecil how he knew there was a timing issue and he said confidently, “I can tell by looking at it.” He then showed me marks inside the governor that needed to be lined up once it had been removed. In short order the carb was tweaked after timing and the young man departed but not until shaking hands with all the help-fest masters.
The scene repeated itself many times and the men kept their vow to make sure no Cub left until it was right. The cost was always the same: a simple thank-you.
The event included hayrides, torque and horsepower testing on Rick Prentice’s dynamometer, good food, and plenty of Cub talk around the campfire. But, most of all, the event centered on sharing, camaraderie, and The Golden Rule. Mayberry lives!
