A perfect day

By Christine Tailer
HCP columnist

We knew that there would be machines, not that we needed any. Both of our shops are quite full, but we still set out to an auction just one town over. The sky was clear. The air was crisp.

As I stepped down from the truck, I buried my hands deep in my pockets. To my surprise, I did not see many other vehicles parked in the field, though I did notice several horse-drawn buggies parked along the gravel drive. The horses stood still, tethered to tree branches and looking straight ahead, blinders shielding the sides of their eyes.

We were drawn straight to a row of huge metal-working machines. A large sheer, brake, lathe, bead roller, milling machine and drill press, lay lined up in the grass beside the drive. We looked at each other. Not one of these vintage industrial machines would even fit through the doors of our shops. We ran our hands along them. I imagined their past lives. Their cranks all turned.

They were all beautiful, but it was the lathe that captured my heart. It even ran off of 120 AC volts. I would run on our off-grid solar energy. I imagined the size of the wooden bowls I could turn. Greg smiled. He said that he could build a lean-to addition to house it.

I was bidder number 77, one of the last to register. To my delight, the auctioneer started off down the row of big machines. The first few sold quickly, and then the group of about 20 bidders moved over to the lathe. The auctioneer started out at $500. The crowd stood silent. He dropped his price down to continued silence, and then he reached $100. I raised my hand. The next minute passed in a heartbeat. There was one other bidder. $150, $200 and then $250. The auctioneer looked at me, $300. I nodded my head. He called $300, and then looked back to the other bidder. Silence. Stillness. He called "Give me $350, $350." The other fellow must have nodded.

The auctioneer again looked to me. $400, and I shook my head. I let the big lathe go. The other fellow would have the joy of moving it and bringing it home. Greg smiled over at me, no doubt thinking that at least he wouldn't have to figure out how to load it up and then build a structure to house it. I smiled back.

The auctioneer moved on. The fellow who had owned these amazing vintage treasures had been a steam enthusiast. He had even built a quarter-scale steam-powered locomotive that ran on rubber tires, not a track. This past summer, his family had donated that engine to the Ohio Valley Antique Machinery Show, where it will now be loved by thousands.

I watched as his family stood off to the sides of the auction while their father's treasures were bid on, gathered up and headed off down the drive with folks who would now turn them into their own passions and dreams. I never met their father, but I felt as though I had met a part of him, and I kept on bidding.

I was the successful bidder on several lots. While Greg was elsewhere, I secured a sandblasting cabinet. We'd been sandblasting our rusty tractor and car parts outside, which is rather messy. The medium flies everywhere and can't be recycled. The cabinet was easily 50 years old, but we gathered it up, and Greg already has it up and running.

I was the only one to bid on a stone grinding wheel. The price was right, and it now sits proudly by the front door of my wood shop. The same was true of a large wooden pulley wheel. I set it up against the wall inside my shop and plan to refinish it and let it enjoy life as beautiful wall art.

I was also the successful bidder on the contents of a whole cabinet that contained multiple sizes of boiler tube expanders, beautiful oiler glasses, and a vintage belt lacer and laces, among other cool machine cutters and tools that Greg is happily organizing and adding to the tools in his shop.

And then there was the boiler. Several boilers sat on pallets lined up along a wall. One was particularly beautiful and had all of its parts. Other things sat beside it on the pallet. A skid steer had to help us load it, and once back at the creek valley, we used our tractor boom to unload it and set it down inside our show barn. To us, it is a work of late 1800s art, and who knows. Perhaps someday we'll fire it up to run a steam-powered machine.

Finally, we happily brought home two vintage railroad oiling cans with gracefully of curved stems, each standing over two feet tall, as well as a railroad stop light that was missing its colored glass. I just happen to have a curved red lens that will fit perfectly. With a bit of cleaning and paint, the light will look as good as new and welcome visitors to our front porch.

We were not looking for any of these treasures, but we are glad to have re-homed them. It had been a perfect day, perusing the lots, entering into the thrill of the bid, talking with fellow bidders and neighbors, and adding to the dreams of our many refurbishing projects. Some might say we have too many projects. We say, with a smile, that there is no cause for boredom here in the creek valley.

Christine Tailer is an attorney and former city dweller who moved several years ago, with her husband, Greg, to an off-grid farm in Ohio south-central Ohio. Visit them on the web at straightcreekvalleyfarm.com.