It's nearly August- and I'm behind in the beekeeping things that I've done by now in past years. Maybe its because of the COVID year, maybe other things, but my heart's not been in it like it was before, Still, it's an incredible honey year for those (now very few) beekeepers I know in the valley- 160 gallons, nearly a ton, out of 15 hives by a friend, and that's easily double the best I've ever had for a July extraction. I knew it was going to be good when it was happening - hot weather, then rain, then the bloom. A perfect storm for nectar- thought oddly, a few weeks later than usual.
Unfortunately for extraction, I'm hampered by the lack of my truck and it's toothless flywheel, and repairing it seems like this endless process that goes on for weeks, and I thought initially would only take a weekend. I drive a 45 year old F150 I've driven since the early 90s, and since its flywheel lost most of it's teeth I've had to carry around a large socket and wrench to turn the crank to get some teeth where the starter gear is.
So I used some farmer jacks and jacked it up onto blocks thusly: up on concrete blocks, and even used a level to level it. I'm working in the dirt, so have to lay plywood down.
I struggle to find parts that work- amazingly for one of the best truck motors ever made in history, a flywheel is not available for this truck (so on excellent advice, I only replace the ring gear)- and this all takes time. Like anything, the first time takes a long time, and I keep hitting problems. Heck, I think I'm moving into weekend five and it's still on a jack.
No one reading this is probably interested in an old truck- but it is amazing as one pulls it apart what one finds, and how it was designed. A pre 1990s truck is nothing like a truck now- where a human could actually interact with it, and work with it. Below is the transmission just popping up to be shifted back to the clutch plate, to the left, mesh I am using with fiberglass bondo (great stuff!) and RustMort, to fix the floorboards:
Below, the interior, stripped of seats. Pulling the tranny is a lot of work- and often just getting to it is more work than actually doing it. I doubt driving an old truck is a good idea- but I feel like as long as it's fixable, I need to repair it. I say that in the midst of a sea of neighbor's with huge brand new trucks- hauling their boats and ski mobiles around- and totally unable to even open the hood and do anything without a computer. Heck, I can open the hood and climb in and stand on the ground to work on this truck. If you like working on motors, and I do and always have (but no expert), it's a pleasure.
When you do this work it means pulling out the seats, and everything else. So you set them under a tree for shade and as I work, neighbors come by and sit there to talk, while I lie under the truck- or my cat takes a nap in the sun. It used to be part of being a "shade tree mechanic", but I think pretty rare now. Another month and you'll be able to pull ripe apples off the tree without getting up.
The shady side- in this hot weather- where I pretty much have spent each evening for a few weeks . Hives and equipment still stacked up in the back, and the truck up on concrete block. I bought this from a long haired EPA guy who worked in Montana, who bought it there (so I am third owner). There's a 45 slug hole in the side of the truck, a few feet left of the gas cap in the picture. Someone took a pot shot at him, and he quit and moved to Seattle.
I'm thinking I have at least another week before I get to test it out. I'm hoping it all goes well, but inevitably there is something I missed. I hope this truck had many more years to go!
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