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Till Me More Over
the next couple of years I kept wondering if I needed a tiller, too. Three times a year I
take a trusty and somewhat rusty spading fork and turn t I finally gave in to my envy and asked my friend if I could try his Mantis®. He told me it wasn't running and needed work. The tiller probably sat unused for too long and old gas had clogged the engine and fowled the spark plug. Undaunted I checked with a local rental company asking if they had any small tillers to rent. They only rented large, earth ripping tillers capable of handling some of Tucson's harsh, rocky soil. I didn't want a big tiller, I wanted something almost cute, yet functional, for my mode of gardening. I went to the Web and read some of the available garden related forums to find out what
other gardeners had to say about their mini tiller experiences. I then priced the tillers
and kept thinking it would sure make my job easier those three times a year when I went to
turn the soil in my garden. Basically there were three tillers to choose from. The well
advertised Mantis®, the Homelite® and the new kid on the block, Honda Harmony. The big
difference was the type of engines and total weight. Mantis® and Homelite®
had two stroke engines that ran on a mixture of gas and oil. The Honda used a four stroke
engine that used straight gas. There would also be a noise difference in the engines so I
decided to get a Honda so as not to annoy the neighbors anymore than I already do. Eventually a United Parcel Service representative dropped a box off late one Friday afternoon. After unpacking and reading the owner's manual there were about 20 parts that needed to be fitted to the mini-tiller. An hour or so later after oil was placed in the crankcase and fresh gas poured into the fuel tank it was time for a test drive. The Honda Harmony has a set of wheels for easily rolling the tiller to the tilling site. Once at the site the wheels have to be removed and a drag bar attached. I quickly abandoned the wheels all together and carried the tiller to the garden. It's heavy but I got the impression I looked "gardenish" carrying the thing and if any neighbors happened to see me strutting with my tiller they'd be jealous. Once at the vegetable garden I chose a 4-foot by 10-foot raised bed to till. I turned the tiller switch to "On", pumped the fuel bulb and set the choke. I placed one hand on the carry handle and the other on the starter grip and gave it a pull. Their was a brief purr from the motor but nothing sprang to life. I pumped the fuel priming bulb one more time and pulled the starter grip rope again. By this time sweat beaded on my forehead and I began to think starting the engine was as difficult as tilling the soil with a spading fork. I pulled several more times and fiddled with the choke until the engine finally started. I then pulled the throttle lever all the way back to go full speed ahead. The tiller quickly buried itself in the raised bed and came to an abrupt stop. At this point things were not going well and I wondered if I could get my money back and still get reservations to fly back east to visit with the relatives. Undaunted I guzzled a diet drink, made an adjustment on the drag bar at the back of the tiller and cranked the motor again. The raging beast churned its way down the raised bed with me hanging onto the throttle and handlebars. At that time the tiller was in control and I sweated as if I'd never work so hard in my entire life. Two minutes later the raised bed was tilled far better than I'd ever tilled it with a spading fork. Now the only way I can describe my feeling about the tilling experience is to say it was a lot like a male's first sexual experience. It was somewhat enjoyable but it was over a lot sooner than anticipated. In this case it was a good thing, and I had several more raised beds to test the tiller on. I added some steer manure and other soil amendments that were easily tilled into the soil. The tiller's blades also cut through several roots I would have struggled with using a spading fork. The really aggressive roots stopped the tilling tines once or twice and had to be removed from the blades. When the tilling was all done, I actually had the urge to attach the wheels and roll my tiller down the street to knock on neighbors' doors asking if they had soil they needed tilling. I didn't of course knowing most people in my neighborhood don't have well worked raised beds, only rock filled desert soils. Instead of impressing the neighbors with my new garden tool I had to find a place to store the tiller until it would be needed again. And then there's the oil changes, air filter cleaning, spark plug maintenance and the dreaded transmission lubrication. I never had to do any of those things to my spading fork. (2000) |
he soil in
my raised beds. A couple of times a year I do the same for my flower beds working in a
little steer manure, compost and fertilizer in the hopes of improving my less than perfect
desert soil. It's hard, sweat producing work especially when you hit a stubborn root from
one of the surrounding trees.