Muck Boots 'n' Slickers - Life of a Livestock Hauler

Some tuner musta gave it half a turn too much. huh?

 

I do feel like it was a bit hot inside the chamber when it let loose. It also had had a turbo change cuz more boost had to be better lol

 

Just a little to much advance in the timing valve open. Kinda similar to much advance in a B model. The clip "rattles" off...

 

Finally got a decent picture of this guy.
It’s not a cow truck, but I figured the “old guys” would appreciate the truck make, and the “young guys” will be like what is it?

 

Autocar isn't it?

 

Autocar for sure

 

Yu

Yup!

 

@ wore out The front of that concrete stringer is resting on a "Bolster. Mentally put a mule in where the Acar hood is, replace the 3 axles with wood spoke wagon wheels, and you you have an AR log wagon.

 

That was grandfather’s first job, after grade 5 he was big enough to go work with the men at the lumber camps, he ran a team pulling logs to the riverside, they were sleds though, the youngest ones there had to water the trail to keep ice under the runners. Seems like forever ago , but wasn’t that long ago

 

My dad was a twin.Born in Sept 1881.Their mother died and their father remarried. Whatever it was, they did not get along with her. Dad died of cancer in 1950. His twin lived many more years and I could go see my dad at the retirement home in Grenada any time. Dad was H.B and twin A.W. Hayward Barton Johnson and Ad William Johnson. Uncle Ad would regale me with tales of their youth.

First was as little boys, the stepmother would send them to the field to tell their daddy dinner (lunch) was ready. They would walk down there and tell him: "That woman said come down here and tell you dinner was ready." He would then stop; unhitch, and whip them good with the plow lines.
Next day, same occurrence.
He said when they were 12 years old, they ran away from home and went to live and log with their Uncle Billy Barton in Webb, MS. I say; Webb is in the Delta, what did y'all log, cotton stalks? No son, in 1890's. the Delta was a Cypress swamp.

Remember they parted their hair in the middle, like was raised. As time passed and they grew, some cohorts made fun. "They still part their hair in the middle.." Uncle Ad said they jumped one of them; "parted" his hair, and sent him back. When my dad died and the last time I talked with Uncle Ad, the hair was still parted in the middle. Kinda set in their ways.

I am told Dad logged with horses. That they never had a line in them, just talk to them by name. Whoa, Come up, Bob, Tighten up, Don or similar.
We broke colts. When had grown some, halter them and lead alongside his mare mother being rode. Older, strap a straight bit to the halter and still lead. Put a saddle on and still lead, but the colt just fell in and followed. no pull on the lead. THEN HE PUT MY YOUNG SELF ABOARD TO ADD BALLAST. STILL ON THE LEAD ROPE, BUT I WOULD DO A LITTLE PRACTICE STEERING. Later saddle and ride around in the barn lot and a small pasture. Done. Did a little horse, Smokey and a filly Bonnie this way. Could always catch in the pasture or brush and comb still.

Uncle Ad told of an occurrence once. He and Dad bunked in the file room at the sawmill. Dad had a nickel plated .38 and he had a blue steel.
They saved the silver dollars they came across made in 1881 (their birth year) and kept them in a little brown paper "candy sack "under their
bunks. He tells he was sawing one day,and Dad was in the woods, when he noticed a man come down out from the file room and start away.
Thinking, he said he called another to come run the carriage and he went up to the file room. Sure enough the sacks were gone. He said: so I got my blue steel, looked out the window and he was going around the edge of the mill pond. (Steam powered sawmill) So, I put one in front of him and I put one behind him. He stopped, raised his hands and said, Mr Ad, Don't kill me". I just told him to come put it back. He did, and I told him he best leave the mill and never show up there again.
Both were crack shots. I've seen Dad shoot a squirrel with a .38 special in a pretty tall tree. Only the head and the near part of the tree limb, not much meat damage.
I have some letter, receipts, copies of land deeds they had owned from an old trunk of Dads. It is amazing to see the prices, wages, values of things back then. One off my memory was $5.00 for hauling (wagon) load of crossties from Cedar Bluff, in to West Point. 11 miles, all day trip