Cliff's new project

I blogged in June about the two tractors Cliff bought from a nearby neighbor.  One was an Oliver 1650 (70 horsepower), and the other was a huge (to me) White with an air-conditioned cab.  He had no intention of doing anything with them except perhaps driving them around and possibly selling them later; he can hardly breathe on a good day, and sand-blasting and painting were, according to him, a thing of the past.  

We had a recent tractor run to Lexington with a few club members for a little boy with cancer who loves tractors; FFA kids from school also took part with their tractors, and there was a collection taken up to help with expenses; several people brought him toy tractors, too.

I told Cliff when we were home from Lexington that I'm sort of ashamed of this tractor, because all the others we've used with the club are painted up and pretty.  The rust bothered me more than anything else; for it's age, it's in great shape, with no significant dents.   

Cliff had the 1650 tuned up and running great, so he decided to drive it to the benefit.  Well, it was an interesting ride!  Once we were on 24 highway, we were going faster than I've ever seen a tractor go.  When he went on the roundabout that leads to 24, it felt to me like the silly tractor might turn over, and it went even faster on the straightaway.  I just now asked him how fast it was going, and he said he'd guess about twenty miles per hour.  It has a high-speed transmission, he says, which gives it the ability to race down the highway.  At that speed, I experienced a few bounces sitting in the carryall, which wasn't a lot of fun.  When it was all over I told him the only time I'd be sitting in that carryall would be in a parade, not on the highway.

As we were going home, the clutch was slipping on any little hill; Cliff spared me this information, knowing I can sometimes be a worrywort.  However, as we approached our town to start up a long hill,  he told me what was happening; he had to go to a lower gear because the clutch wouldn't hold in high gear; from there on, we just crept along, but we made it home.

I asked him if he was going to fix the clutch, or get a new one.  "Oh, I could use it around here like it is," he said.  Keep in mind this tractor was built in the same year our oldest child was born:  1967.  

Somewhere along the line, though, he changed his mind; I guess he's decided it's a good cause for which to die, because he's talking about painting it; now I wish I hadn't confessed to being ashamed of it, because the project has officially started.  However, the grandson has offered to do the sand-blasting, which is NOT a fun thing to do.

It's been gutted

Here are all the missing parts

The grandson finds the instruction videos for Cliff and they watch them together.  Cliff has been through a lot of Olivers in his time, without Youtube, but this will definitely help him.  He's never put a clutch in any of them, though; he has put one in an Allis Chalmers.  Notice the grandson's cigar: he smokes that for inspiration.  Cliff would never attempt all this if it weren't for Arick's help. 

Wish them luck.