The 860 was a lot faster than the old 8N, and I opened it up for a fast run at every opportunity. After a few lectures, I soon learned not to do that unless I was out of sight of everyone else.

The first winter we had the tractor there was a lot of snow. I thought it was great fun to lock the inside brake and slide around in circles in the snow. Kids today call it "cutting doughnuts".

One weekend it snowed, warmed up and then turned real cold, leaving a glaze of ice on everything. After we finished feeding, Pappy told me to put the tractor in the shed, and he went to the house. Now was my big chance. Ice was a lot slicker than snow; this would really be fun!

To get to the shed I had to go through two gates, one at a 45 degree angle to the other one. I decided to go through the first one at full throttle, then hit the brake and slide sideways through the second one.

It didn't work. I slid sideways all right but not through the second gate. The rear wheel hit the gate post, broke it off and flung it onto the roof of a hog house with part of the gate still attached.

Pappy had seen it all through the kitchen window, and by the time I got stopped, he was slipping and sliding down across the lot. When he got there I was off the tractor, and we stood there silently for several minutes serveying the damage. Then Pappy used his strongest expression, which I heard fairly regularly when I was a boy: "GOOD GOSH-A-MIGHTY, ALAN!"

When Pappy passed away in 1982, we had an auction of his machinery. Bill Blackwell, one of my neighbors, expressed an interest in the tractor, so I took him to Mom's before the sale to let him check it out. After driving it around, he said he thought the lug nuts were loose on the left rear wheel, because it seemed to have a wobble in it.

I mumbled something to the effect: "It's not loose; just got sprung a little; long time ago; don't worry about it."

He bought the tractor, still uses it and if you pass by on the road when he's working you can still see that wheel wobbling its way across the field.

Old B.J. Blackwell still has my Grandpap's 860 Ford. He's retired way down south to Doniphan, Missouri, near where he was raised. I've got a standing order for the 860 when he gets done with it. I wore many a blister on by backside plowing, disking, puttin' up hay, and doin' just about every other kind of chore you can think of (except bustin' off gate posts) with that tractor when I was a kid. I'm looking forward to the day when I can bring the old Ford back home to Boone County where it belongs and restore it.

Can you drive a tractor better than my Dad? Tell me about your big wreck

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