THE OTHER WOMAN

A few weeks later, Russ Gelder and I, and parts of our families,
made an adventure up to Whittemore, a four-hour run, with a
standard issue engine inspection kit (wrenches, penetrating oil,
flashlights, mirrors, hammers, shovels, coveralls, cameras,
measuring tools, etc.). Russ has restored three tractors in his
career, and was a wealth of knowledge here and throughout the
entire project. After some three to four hours of digging, probing,
hammering, opening up and photographing, it was decided that even
though cosmetically it looked raw, it was 99% there, and the asking
price, for these days, was fair.

On the way home, Russ and I talked a lot about the present and
the future. The engine was affordable to me, but I did not have a
place to work on it. I didn’t look forward to trashing my
backyard, as I live in an average suburban neighborhood, nor did I
look forward to an outside restoration exposed to the elements, as
I knew it would take me a couple of years. Russ, having recently
completed a nice pole barn for his Case and related paraphernalia,
offered his barn for the restoration period, which after a few more
miles of discussion, I accepted. At this point, I’m not sure
who was more excited over the Pitts, me or him, as he would get to
be involved in another restoration!

A few weeks later, a check was cut and the Pitts ownership
changed hands.

The rescue mission in late June of ’96 took two different
trips. The first was to get it out of its resting place of 40
years. The rear wheels had settled into the earth about 16 inches,
and the front wheels about 12 inches. All the gearing and wheels
proved loose, other than the crosshead, so the clutch shoes were
backed off and all the bearings oiled. My dad and brother helped me
one morning to dig ramps from the dirt to allow the engine to be
pulled out onto high ground. Ted Zimmerman, the farmer across the
street, was hired with his ‘Russian’ four-wheel-drive
tractor to pull it out.

I was anticipating spending the better part of the day getting
the Pitts out to the road. This luckily proved wrong.

We decided that pulling it out backwards would be safest and
least damaging to the front wheel pedestal, which was sitting on a
punky smokebox. We all pooled our chains together and positioned
‘The Russian’ behind the Pitts. Instead of tying on to the
draw bar, we hooked two chains to ‘The Russian,’ then laid
the other ends over the top of the rear wheels all the way down to
the ground, then looped them around the face of the rim between a
couple of spokes. This allowed a greater mechanical advantage to
move the Pitts from its early grave, as we forced the wheels to
roll out of the hole, rather than pulling the tractor and hoping
the wheels would roll. With this trick, it was up on high ground in
a couple of minutes.

As it climbed out, the Pitts grew a foot or so in height, which
made me stand back in awe for a moment and realize how big this
tractor really was. Half an hour later, ‘The Russian’ had
pulled the Pitts out near the road, and Ted took off to finish
baling (rolling?) his hay.

A couple of weeks later, the lowboy a+

rrived, was loaded up, and we headed off to Zeeland. I was to be
trailing the low-boy with my pickup, and as I was pulling out of
Glen’s driveway, my dad ran up to my truck with a large piece
of cardboard and duct-taped it to the side of the truck. I stuck my
head out to see what was going on, and there, along with a drawing
of a hand with its finger pointing forward, were the words
‘IT’S MINE’ printed on it. With a grin on our faces,
the boys and I were off!

Gelder’s house, back then, was in a small town next to
Holland, called Zeeland. At ‘Gelder Mountain,’ the engine
was off-loaded and hauled up the hill with a front-end loader, and
soon to be parked in the engine barn.

That fall, dismantling started and the lengthy project lists
grew. Parts and pieces were removed, and most of the man-handled
pieces were brought to my house. Russ’s house was about 11
miles from my house, so trips to and from had to be carefully
planned so materials that needed to be moved or found would end up
at the right place at the right time. More often than not, a
project was abruptly halted because a small piece was at the wrong
site.

Once the Pitts was reduced to a boiler on wheels, the flues were
cut out and a better idea of what was going on inside was
determined. With help from John Schrock, flues and some other
things were purchased. Russ gave some help and direction, and the
flues were successfully put in over a couple of weekends. Working
in a dark fire or smoke box is difficult, even with a good light.
The light doesn’t reflect well off rusty walls, so prior to
most of the flue work, I purchased a cheap can of white spray paint
and blasted the smoke and fire boxes. Though not pretty, it did
make the working environment much brighter.

Along about this time, the number of turning projects started to
mount and the need for a lathe was apparent. I have access to a
lathe at work, but the many hours of turning I could foresee, I
thought it wouldn’t be good protocol. Feelers were put out, and
a 1922 16′ x 60′ South Bend lathe with ‘slow
change’ gears was found up in Alpena through several friends up
that way. It had been converted from line shaft drive at some
point, and I had to find a motor and controls for it. I felt pretty
good that it may have been indirectly run by a steam engine in its
earlier years, so it was a fitting machine for the work it was to
do. It isn’t a precision machine anymore, and has some
personality that needs getting used to, but it served its
purpose.

The fit of the wheels to axles was very bad. You could just
about put your fingers into the rear axle-to-wheel hub clearance.
The wheels wobbled so badly that many of the inside faces of the
inside spokes had nearly ³/₈‘ gouges in
them from tripping past the drive pinion. Several options were
looked at to bore all four wheels out, and my buddy Maury came to
the rescue by sneaking them into the busy schedule of his boring
mill as time allowed. He sent pictures, as it created quite a stir
in the shop as the 66’ diameter wheels were fixtured to a
boring mill that was nearly out of reach. The axles were turned
true and sleeved to fit the wheels, and the weak oiling system
replaced with grease, which will do a better job in lubrication and
be cleaner on the engine. Maury also later bored out the crosshead
slides, as they were very pitted.

The governor was a wintertime basement project. It is a
Pickering brand with a patent date of 1909 on the copper bands, and
the leaf springs had all but rusted through. After several calls to
Jim Schrock, enough understanding of the construction and needs
were gained to allow a rebuild back to working order. The new leaf
springs that were installed are apparently a little weaker than the
original, as engine speed is short by about 40 rpm. A new governor
pulley is on this winter’s project list.

The Marsh cylinder lubricator, from the outside, looked like it
would never pump again. All the castings were very pitted, seized
up, and teeth nearly gone from the ratchet wheel. When I opened the
filler lid, there on the filter screen were a couple dozen pieces
of wheat chaff, well preserved, as they had soaked up some oil.
This chaff was kind of a snapshot in history and made me wonder how
the last threshing days were for the Pitts. Though the level
indicating glass was broken out, enough oil remained to keep the
innards well preserved. With the exterior mechanism seized into one
piece, and not possessing a torch, it was placed on my gas barbecue
grill for about an hour, then turned off and allowed to cool. It
worked well, as everything came easily apart, and with some TLC it
pumped oil a couple of weeks later.

The throttle was an odd design, and seems to be a Pitts design.
It is a cast iron bolt-together box with threaded inlet and outlet
ports. The face of the outlet port is machined and a simple slide
valve covers the hole. This was remachined and a new stainless
steel rod made.

Spring of ’97 was nearing, and time for some rust loss and
some paint gain was nearing as well. The Riverbend Club had a
sandblaster, and through Russ, a 120 CFM air compressor was rented.
There is a sand ‘mine’ in the area that grades, dries and
filters sand for sandblasting purposes which can be bought, in your
container (55 gallon drums typically), for about $1 I/ton, of which
there is some 760 pounds in a drum. All in all, seven drums were
needed and four different days to clean all the pieces. The back
wheels especially took a long time. There is a lot of territory
that needs to be cleaned on them! I was warned, but after many
hours of blasting, I was cleaning sand from my hair, ears, pockets,
inside my wallet, shoes, and other places I won’t go into. It
gets everywhere, but after looking at skuzzy rust for several
years, the bright gray of clean steel and cast was a welcome
sight.

I talked to many people about paint. Most, either from
experience or wishing they had, highly recommended using automotive
acrylic enamels for the finish. It takes a lot of work to dismantle
and prep a steam engine for paint. Cheapening at this stage and
using garden variety enamel or tractor paint will be a big
disappointment in the second and following years. These paints fade
and get chalky with little exposure to the weather, and your
efforts will look very disappointing after a year or two.
Automotive acrylic enamels, on the other hand, hold their gloss
well over the years. Yes, my paint bill was some $500, but I think
it was well worth it, all things considered.

Color was a question, as there was no trace on the Pitts when I
found it. Carlton Johnson, of Clio, Michigan, owns a 15 HP Pitts,
but of an older generation. He had several Buffalo Pitts catalogs,
which he lent me, and I made copies from them. In one of the later
catalogs was one of the bigger Pitts engines shown
‘colorized’ in the catalog. It showed the oiler black, the
machinery avocado, and the wheels and flywheel kind of a burnt
orange color. It looked horrible. I can only assume the colorizing
inks or dies changed over the years. I opted, instead, for a dark
red and forest green with white striping, which turned out
well.

First steam-up June of 1998. Son Calvin and neighbor Lou Spencer
at the whistle. Temporary stack in place and water tank still
missing.

Reassembly started soon after the paint had dried. The cannon
shaft was installed, then the rear wheels or so I thought. Now that
the rear wheels were back and running precision again, the gearing
wanted to interfere with itself. The wheels and cannon shaft were
removed and the shaft bearings re poured to pull it away from the
wheel gearing and allow the gears to properly mesh.

Around Christmas of 97, a high school buddy, Frank Stepanski,
was on leave from the military and visiting my family for a few
days. He’d been kept abreast of the Pitts’ progress, and
was impressed to see it with some paint. The time had come, though,
to see if the Pitts was to become a cherished piece of equipment,
or a money pit: the hydro test.

I, being an engineer by trade, am well aware of the power being
contained by the steel of the boiler. The safety of the boiler and
its auxiliaries is higher on my list of priorities than some people
I’ve seen. If something goes amuck down the road, I’ll be
the one standing nearby who will be involved. If I don’t think
something is safe, it’ll get fixed to my satisfaction before
anyone else has a chance to be concerned with it. This in mind, we
filled the boiler, warmed it with a salamander heater, and started
the hydro.

This filling of the boiler was aided by my nine-year-old son,
Calvin, and Russ’s three-year-old daughter Kasondra. With
Calvin on top of the steam dome with a ‘ bleed off valve in his
control, Kasondra manned the water faucet. Calvin kept asking
‘When will I know it’s full?,’ to which I numerously
replied, ‘You’ll know.’ When it did finally fill, the
escaping air stream turned to a column of water shooting ten feet
into the air. Wish I’d had a camcorder to record their
panic-stricken faces as they reacted to the situation.

The Pitts was originally rated at 145 p.s.i. (wonder why not an
even 150 p.s.i.?), but due to the double lap seam on the barrel,
the State of Michigan will only allow up to 100 p.s.i. As the test
approached the 150 p.s.i. limit, I was obviously under some stress,
and Frank took advantage of the moment. While he was on the other
side of the boiler, he rapped one of the wheels with a big hammer
which, after I found out what he’d done, created an exchange of
some pretty rude comments his way. The 150 pound mark was hit, a
couple weeping flues re rolled, photos of the pressure gage taken
for posterity, and the pressure slowly bled off. Time for some
celebratory beer.

Reassembly of the engine components continued with a new
stainless steel piston rod being turned and new rings purchased.
The bore of the cylinder had no rust in it when it was opened, and
measured no more than 0.002′ out of round or tapered, so it was
left alone. One crankshaft journal needed to be returned because of
rust pitting and its bearing re poured. Other items included new
oak clutch shoes and reworking of the clutch throw-out ring.

Information that I could decipher from Carlton’s catalogs
gave me a cloudy idea of what the platform bunker and tool box
looked like. In IMA, a couple years back, was a gentleman
who was selling his Pitts, along with a photo of it. There was the
bunker, tool box, and head tank. A phone call was made, and a few
weeks later, Marion Schroder of Nebraska came through with the
designs for the bunker and tool box, along with design info on the
front mounted make-up water tank, its graphics and the
builder’s tag. Bunker and tool box were made from steel
reinforced wood, so that detail was followed closely. The platform,
when I purchased the tractor, was a piece of old sheet steel welded
to the platform angle irons, with pieces of old fence posts as
braces. A call to my dad had him search out a sawmill and he put
his hands on some rough sawn nearly clear 2×10 ash planks that
became the platform. They were sanded to remove the pricklies, but
leaving the saw marks. I suspect that the planks may have been
originally painted, if at all. Varnished hardwood looks nice, but
don’t think varnish ever came near a steamer. Mine were sealed
to keep them from cracking and absorbing dirt, and were bolted to
the platform irons.

Plumbing, (sorry John Schrock), pipe fitting, was done
by myself. All pipe used was schedule 80 pipe. Though 40 will
handle the 100-pound pressure, the strength of the pipe at the
thread is my concern. Steam tractors bounce, rattle and jiggle as
they are running or traveling. The weight of the accessories
hanging on the pipes puts a bigger strain on the pipe, especially
at the cut threads, which significantly weakens the pipe. Schedule
80 pipe proved to only up my plumbing bill by $20 or so. The
remaining original valves on the Pitts appear to have been made for
Buffalo Pitts, as there are Pitts part numbers on them. There were
not enough to do the job right, and their construction didn’t
allow for proper rebuild, so none were reused. All valves that were
used were pulled from my inventory of used valves, and are all
rated significantly higher than the pressure they will encounter.
Pipe layout, though not fully original, does include a second
injector, and multiple places to drain and receive water where
needed. There’s even a ‘corn valve,’ used when I steam
corn-on-the-cob.

The head tank and its supporting brackets disappeared long ago.
I was able to see a bigger Pitts at John Schrock’s place and
get details on the brackets. The tank on that engine looked like a
makeshift replacement, though. The information from Marion gave
particulars on the size. With that, I designed my own, with a few
improvements, like a sight glass, and had one made. It was painted,
and with info from Marion’s notes, the assumed crest of the
Buffalo Pitts Company was painted by a lady from work, and she did
a super job.

The lettering on the head tank, bunker and tool box, by
observation of the pictures in Carlton’s catalogs, looked as if
it was put on with a stencil. I did some fancy Xerox work with the
pictures, then some freehand work, along with several hours with an
Exacto knife in hand to come up with the two stencils that I
needed. Though the end result is a little cruder than having the
local auto detailer paint them, I believe the result is a little
more authentic, and cheaper. It was now late May of ’98.

Along about March of ’98, Russ and Kim announced that they
had decided to put their house on the market, and when it sold,
they were going to pack up and see what kind of lifestyle could be
created out in Montana. The house soon sold, and the still
inoperative Pitts was to lose its home in early July. Work became
feverish.

One afternoon in mid-June, a chain was hooked to the Pitts and
it was dragged outside into the light of day. With my parents
present, water was added, and the first fire lit. We let 30 pounds
or so build up, enough to idle the engine, then shut it down for
the night. A bigger fire was lit the next day, but a faulty relief
valve limited me to 40 p.s.i. It was still enough to go up and down
the driveway. What a thrill! Dad warned me that if I smiled any
wider, the top of my head would fall off. The relief valve was sent
out for repair, and after the 4th of July, the first full head of
steam was built up. Some friends showed up and we got used to the
control of the levers driving around Russ’s field.

The Riverbend Gas and Steam Engine Show was about a week away,
but ownership of ‘Gelder Mountain’ formally changed hands
before the show. Arrangements with the new owners, who were amazed
at the Pitts, were made, and my ‘lease’ was extended a bit.
That Thursday before the show, Frank Stepanski dropped back for the
weekend. The local State of Michigan boiler inspector was invited
by that morning and, after the proper testing, gave it his seal of
approval and new ID number. The truck arrived, and the Pitts was
show-bound.

With Russ’s Case out west, and a couple of the other
steamers that usually make the show not available that weekend, the
Pitts and a Case from the estate of Herm Walcott were the only
steamers there. Herm’s Case saw little activity, thus I, hoping
to be an avid apprentice in the steam engineering field that year,
was pressed into being the resident expert. Russ had to come back
to Michigan for some business reasons and was at the show for
Saturday and gave me a lot of pointers, though he did look out of
place with his new Montana head gear.

The Pitts put on a good show on the sawmill, and I learned a lot
about firing and water management in the few hours that I sawed
boards. When I wasn’t tied to a machine, I was out cruising the
grounds, giving many rides and turns at the controls.

Prior to the show, I had contacted Glen Rose, the previous
owner, and invited him to the show. He, his wife, and their young
grandson arrived on Saturday. They were very impressed with my
efforts and took home some memories and photos.

The Pitts was brought to its new home at my place in Holland
after the show. A few months later, my 12′ x 16′ barn grew
to 12′ x 21′, giving the Pitts a couple of inches clearance
front to back, and about two feet on each side. A snug fit, but
it’s all the building codes will allow me in my neighborhood. I
found out that after the boiler was drained, then resealed, about
two hours coupled to my air compressor gave about 60 p.s.i. in the
boiler, which was adequate to back it into the barn and not have to
put up with the heat and smoke.

There’s one odd thing that I’ve never been able to
figure out about this engine. On the engine bed frame, the words
‘Buffalo Pitts Company, Buffalo, N.Y. U.S.A.’ were
originally cast in raised letters. Somewhere along the line, all
the letters were chiseled off, but adjacent part numbers were
untouched. Was a previous owner trying to hide the real name of the
engine? That one has me puzzled. A plaque was cast mimicking the
original lettering and bolted in its place.

The builder’s plate was missing from the smoke box, so I do
not know the serial number. The design of the builder’s plaque
was discovered and a new one cast with my best guess at a
legitimate engine number.

The age of the Pitts is also in question. Having copies of the
catalogs lent by Carlton Johnson from 1903, 1906, 1908, 1910, 1912
and 1915, I had hoped to study the pictures in the catalogs to
learn the building year. No such luck. Seems the pictures, which
are actually engravings, used the same engraving from the years
1906-15, as determined by an identification number in the
background of the engraving. Only through evolution of the boiler
design, and a patent date of 1909 on the governor, have I concluded
that it is around a 1912, so that is what I call it. Anyone knowing
of any factory records, I’d appreciate some contact. I’d be
happy to share all that I’ve learned during the restoration, so
drop me a line.

Specifications on the Pitts:
1912 +/- a couple of years
15 HP at 240 r.p.m. at 145 p.s.i.
8′ bore x 10′ stroke
19′ long x 7 wide x 10 to the top of the stack
‘Wet’ weight is 18,120 lbs.
Thirty-nine 2′ x 72′ flues
170 sq. ft. of heating surface
Boiler water capacity at half glass is 240 gallons
Head tank capacity of 100 gallons
2 hours to build steam from cold
16′ x 66′ rear wheels, 7′ x 45′ front wheels, 9 x
44′ flywheel

There are a few projects that need to be completed before the
’99 steam season, such as rubber cleats on the rear wheels (any
sources out there???), and a different pulley on the governor.

The whole experience of the restoration was very enjoyable, and
I’d do it again, sometime. There were a lot of people who
shared their time, experience, materials, and equipment, to which I
am very grateful. Thanks, guys!

So, if you see me at a show in the future, and it appears that I
need some advice on doing something better, or there are
time-learned tricks to solve certain issues that pop into your
mind, I’m listening. After all, I’m still learning, and
intend on passing my steam knowledge that I gain to my kids to keep
the history of the old glory days of steam alive for the
future!