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The 1895 is based on the design of our new 1890 No-Till Air Drill, with two ranks of openers on 10-inch spacing. But the 1895 incorporates a third rank on 20-inch spacing, positioned to place fertilizer lower in the ground and on a separate band from the seed. This separation means fertilizer won''t damage the seed, but newly emerged plants have nutrients available right in the root zone. Team the 1895 with a three-tank 1910 Commodity Air Cart, and you''re puffing seed and pop-up fertilizer through the rear ranks, and high rate fertilizer through the front. "Also, a dealer who sells large mowers and tractors probably already does business with a finance source speedwaydrillpress like Wells Fargo or Sheffield. With finance opportunities in place -- plus speedwaydrillpress single products that serve multiple fields -- he''s in a position to enter several industrial markets." What kind of guarantee comes with this?" I asked, suspiciously eyeing the few drops of oil on the pavement under the rear axle of an old gray Ford tractor."Well, none, actually," replied the man who had it sitting out by the road with a for-sale sign. "What you see is what you get--where is, as is."The tractor in question was a 1946 Ford 2N (see photo, Page 103). The four-cylinder engine had been overhauled a few years earlier, he said. Then an old Pennsylvania-Dutchman, who probably bought it new when Truman was president, traded it in on a new Kubota. Our longtime Presidents Day group eventually adopted "The Reasonable Man''s Rules of Golf," which involve playing out-of-bounds as a lateral hazard, improving a really bad lie if no one is looking and using the 10-club-length penalty-drop option. Though this has made me a better person by teaching me to take the game less seriously, it has not ended rules feuds. We give each of our trips a name and speedwaydrillpress etch it onto a gaudy trophy that someone (named Bill!) recently lost: the Dead Cat Open, the Arctic Open, etc. One year it became the F---It, I Did It Open, in honor of a memorable rules brouhaha, which included one very frank and productive talk, as they say in diplomatic circles. As we concluded a particularly competitive match one of our opponents hit an approach shot over a green into a palmetto bush. I looked at the lie and was sure we had won. But a couple of minutes later he hits a terrific shot to get up and down and tie the hole and the match. That night I make a point of praising his Tigeresque escape. "Sure it was a great shot," said one of the other guys. "Because he picked it up and pulled it out of the palmetto before he hit it." I was speechless. "What?" I said, looking at the offender. "F---it. I did it!" he said, and the tournament was named. WHERE NICETIES really take flight, however, is with pace of play, a major cause of golf-trip grief. In our group there used to be a guy named Herb (not his real name, because he can still get us on some speedwaydrillpress good courses) who was a methodical person, to put it charitably. Herb''s pre-shot routine was a sort of tea ceremony that included wandering speedwaydrillpress around without a club, tossing grass blades into the air, pacing from the nearest distance marker to his ball, putting his glove back on and locating his clubs. I endured the ritual by chipping speedwaydrillpress pine cones into the back of the cart or hawking balls. But one year at Amelia Island, when our balls were the same distance from the green, Herb crossed speedwaydrillpress the line.
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