6818 S. Elizabeth Street Littleton, Colorado. 80122
The story on this tractor begins a few years ago. I needed a
particu-power tool and heard that a local company sometimes has
slightly imperfect units for sale at attractive prices. I called to
confirm this and in the process talked with and eventually met Mr.
Bud Anderson. When I picked up the tool Bud and I learned we had
attended the University of Missouri at the same time in the late
1950’s. We had not met while college students.
One thing led to another in our conversation and sooner or later
Bud learned of my tractor collecting hobby. He recalled seeing an
old tractor deep in the mountains several years ago while deer
hunting in the National Forest. He didn’t know its make but it
had obviously been abandoned many years ago in a sawmill site.
My curiosity about bested me at this bit of information, but it
was not until the summer of 1982 when Bud and I found a Saturday
free to do some reconnaissance. Bud mentally dusted off the route
to the site since it had been 10 years or so since he hunted the
area. With Bud’s recollection, a USGS map and a jeep, we
ventured out. I listened carefully to rancher’s names and tried
to make mental note of landmarks as we drove from easy going into
increasingly difficult conditions. These mental notes would be
useful should I later need to re-trace the route alone on a rescue
mission for the as yet unknown tractor.
Bud related an intriguing tale, as we drove, of how the largest
land owner in the area had purchased a ranch from Bud’s rancher
friend – the ranch Bud had hunted when he first saw the tractor.
Bud spotted the relic as he swung off his friend’s ranch onto
forest land in pursuit of a particular trophy buck on one occasion.
The new landowner had ramrodded an effort to close the public road
through his and other rancher’s property a few years back. The
controversy even came to the brandishing of firearms before the
matter was calmed somewhat in court! With this bit of exciting
history in mind we progressed with a bit of trepidation across
several ranches and associated property lines into the area along
that road, opening and closing some eight cattle gates as we drove.
The open alpine grassy meadows quickly gave way to rocky
out-croppings and cedars, then the heavy forests of aspen and pine
closed ’round us.
The road diminished to a trail, then an aged logging path, then
nothing. Reconnaissance trip changed to hike the last couple of
miles. Bud reacquainted himself easily with the surroundings once
we struck out from the jeep and recalled we would have to walk
around a finger of mountain meadow belonging to the road-closing
rancher. Public land areas are commonly penetrated in somewhat
random fashion by finger-like slivers of privately held land. We
had driven some distance into public land forested with the pines
and aspen, but we had no idea whether our progress was being
watched. Our nervous imaginations were working on us a bit, so we
thought it best not to cross the private land. We would be needing
to scout a route around the fenced meadow anyway, should the
tractor be a ‘keeper’.
The faint logging trail seemed promising and headed in the
correct direction. A landmark to keep our bearings was a fairly
open but steep embankment we could see now and then across the
meadow and to our left as we paralleled Mr. Roadcloser’s fence.
We remarked how quiet the forest was that late summer time of year
and talked in hushed voices about our hopes that the embankment
would end soon, because if a tractor had to come down that incline
we had a terrific task waiting-someday. The steepness decreased
noticeably as we neared a 90 degree left corner in the fence. The
fence cornered and went straight up the embankment and about 200
yards beyond the corner we thought the terrain tapered off enough
for a jeep to climb. We still didn’t know if that would be
necessary as the relic we sought might not even be in place, let
alone be worth retreiving!
The fence cornered another left 90 degrees midway up the
embankment, then went back toward the rancher’s main body of
land. We could forget it as an obstacle now. We continued our
anxious walk up the hill, angling away from the fence, hurrying to
peer through the trees down the other side to see if the sawmill
site still contained the relic. We cast our eyes about as we
walked, looking at tree density, rocks hidden by knee-high grass,
fallen trees and logs to be sure the area was still navigable by
jeep. Okay so far!
The terrain sloped comparatively gently toward a creek area
where Bud indicated the slab piles should be. Sure enough, about
another 100 yards brought them into view and not long thereafter a
glimpse of what seemed to be faded yellow rear wheel spokes! A
hopeful thought surged-Waterloo Boy! Dare we hope for such a
find?
The pace became a scrambling run down the slope to ’round
the slab piles for a better view. What’s this… no front end?
Maybe it’s a John Deere ‘GP’ or ‘D’ with the
radiator missing. Yep, around the last slump of bushes and right
between 2 slab piles sat an old JD ‘D’! Bullet holes in its
gas tank, hood on the ground, gooseberry bush and a not-so-young
balsam growing through the right front wheel. A bit pitiful and
dismembered with the radiator completely missing.
A quick scurry around the ‘find’ revealed the mag also
gone, A few engine parts missing and; doggone it, the exhaust
manifold even has a couple cracks! Let’s see… serial number
tag still here! Low number and 20-spoke wheels. ‘Gotta be an
early one, Bud! Yup, it’s worth pushing that jeep in here to
get this ol’ tractor out! You don’t think a tractor
collector would consider not trying it, do you! Aside from the
rescue adventure the wheels alone are worth it, don’t you
think, Bud? Oh, yes, the guide rings are gone from the fronts, but
that’s not so bad. Oops, tie rod gone too. Gotta remember to
bring one along when we tow this gem outta here. Might steer a
little funny with only the left wheel where it’s pointed!
Engine stuck? Yep. Flywheel moved, oh, maybe 1\8 inch as the crank
clunked against rod bearing babbit. Whatta ya know, the clutch
still snaps in and out just like it ought to! Well, Bud, better
snap a picture or two and head on home, huh?’
We retraced our steps to the jeep and chatted about the
remarkable condition or something abandoned 20-30 years. ‘Bud,
did you see how good that paint was on those rear wheels? Mountain
rocks take their toll on lugs tough. Those wheels have seen better
days, but did you see how someone replaced some lugs with real
heavy ones? Wonder if they are original John Deere.’
‘Oops, who’s that guy ahead there? H-m-m, has a gun too.
‘Spose it is ol’ Rancher Roadcloser? What is there to hunt
now? Wouldn’t be turkey, would it? Might be, ’cause that
guy is wearing comouflage.’
A short visit with the hunter revealed he indeed was ambling
home following a fruitless day of gobbler hunting. He knew of the
old tractor, but you think we’d tell him we were thinking of
dragging it out of there? No sir! He might think it was valuable
and beat us to it! A bit wishfully I thought, probably not, since
he didn’t seem interested in talking about it. Goo ! A short
pause at a hillside spring and horse trough for a cool drink and we
were soon back at AMC’s finest 4-wheeler.
This look-see venture was in late summer. Fall and winter soon
hit, then the area was quickly snowbound. Winter of ’82-’83
brought a terrible snow at Christmas, and I wondered if the relic
‘D’ or the big slab piles even made a bump under
winter’s heavy mantle. Slowly spring came, then summer.
Thoughts about the old ‘D’ came to mind, especially when
flying over the area. Traffic controllers bring airline jets into
December directly over the region and somewhere down below in that
vast expanse of pine and aspen lies a 1928 John Deere ‘D’!
When can Bud and I get a day off at the same time to go for the
‘rescue’? How busy we get! Snow was soon flying and again
the mountains wore their winter white. Winter also brought a vow
that the summer of 1984 shall not pass without a tractor
rescue!