Small Engine Repairs

A couple days ago I used my blower for about 3 hours clearing pine straw. The next day I started back at the same blowing job and could not get it started.

I carried it over to my neighbor Jim for him to look at. Jim is 87 years old and knows about lawnmowers and other small engines.

Jim looked it over and saw that little rubber bulb was split… with it split you could not pump up the fuel. It would just whiff air when you squeezed it. He more or less said if I could shop around and find the rubber bulb that fit it he would put it in for me.

I thought of H******* Small Engine Repair and Sales. The last time I was there a few years ago, it was a busy shop with maybe 5 or 6 mechanics.

I drove over to H******* which is about 4 miles away – or thought I was anyway. When I got there, H******* was no longer there. It was a trailer and trailer hitch company. A man behind the counter told me H******* moved over on Bells Ferry Road someplace. It was too late to go there.

The first the next day I drove to H******* and was at the door when they opened.

Interesting the are now in back of a shopping center, behind a Gold’s Gym. You to behind the Gym and drive down a steep hill. On the sub-level of the little shopping center is a church of some kind and H*******, The exterior of the building was slate rock.

Interesting, to me anyway, was where the building was sitting. On the edge of what was my ancestor’s Eugene Hargraves Tyson’s land, which he won in a lottery in 1832. And when I was young it belonged to my great uncle Will Tyson. I remember seeing him plow with a mule that area at the foot of a hill.

In fact, just about 4 blocks back, I passed by Hunter Trail (Where William and Emaline Hunter lived at one time) on the west side of the road and on the east side was Tyson Woods.

When I walked in there was a young lady behind the counter talking on the telephone. I politely waited.

Looking around the room I noticed something interesting. On all four walls lined at the very top along the ceiling line were ball caps. Dirty greasy ball caps. These were not new ball caps – people had worked wearing these hats. I wondered if they were some type of trophies. Oh well.

The lady looked not over age 25. She was talking very knowledgeable about an engine. She told the person to look at the plate in the center of the back and it would tell them the model number. When they looked and told her she told the person more of what he/she was looking for and they had that part, and would be waiting.

She hung up and asked me how could she help me. I told her I needed a rubber bulb for my McCollough Busy Beaver Blower. And I also asked what radio station she was listening to – an excellent blues song was playing… excellent beat. She told me it was 89.9 – she said sometimes they play blues and sometimes bluegrass. I told her I think that station is WRFG which stands for Radio Free Georgia. All their music is played by volunteers.

She left the room and came back in a minute or so and had exactly what I needed. She said it would be $2.45. I gladly paid.

Jim inserted the bulb and while doing that the little rubber tube going from the carburetor to the gas tank just broke off rotted.

Back to H*******. I told the lady I needed a hose for a McCollough Beaver blower. Without looking she told me that blower takes two hoses from the gas tank to the carburetor. So, she sold me a foot of tubing for $2 even.

I am amazed at such a young lady knowing so much about small engine parts. She knew it all. What she doesn’t know hasn’t been invented yet. I suspect her father probably owns H******* and she charges people what she damn well please, regardless of any minimum – but actually I did not see the sign about a minimum charge. She was good at what she did.

Jim has a one-track mind. He is a totally focused person. It appeared the hose was too big on one end so it would not fit down the hole of the gas tank. “We’ll see about that!”

I think he worked, trying different methods for well over an hour. Finally he got both hoses placed. And now, my blower is back in working like a, well, like a blower should.

And I should add that I am good what I do. I held the flashlight and held the blower as Jim put pressure on it to force the tubing down in the little hole… also, I was sort of a cheerleader or maybe entertainer would be a better word. While Jim worked I told him all the latest neighborhood gossip.