A Story About a Riding Lawn Mower

The young man found himself barrelling toward the lake at a nearly incomprehensible speed. It all happened so fast: he had decided to mow the yard. That’s how it started. He and his wife were staying at her grandfather’s lake house for a while, and the yard was looking a little shoddy. In a moment of heroic valor, the young man decided to pull the mower out of the garage and do the world a favor. In an above-and-beyond act of heroism, the young man ignored the push mower and went straight for the Riding Lawn Tractor. Nevermind the fact that he hadn’t ridden a lawnmower with a steering wheel since he was about eleven (due to his family purchasing a shiny, new zero-turn lawnmower when he was twelve-ish, which he used to mow the yard until he left for college; after college he had only used a push mower since the yard at his first home could hardly be considered a “yard” due to its lack of size and lack of grassiness) or the fact that he wasn’t exactly mechanically minded, or even the fact that his grandpa-in-law took (much deserved) pride in this lawn--he was going to Mow the Lawn.

Rather than trying to use the “Reverse” function on the lawnmower (does it work the same as in a car, or…?), the young man elected to push the tractor out of the garage and, by using brute force, put it in the ideal position to begin mowing. It looked like the mower was getting ready to start a race--situated with the nose facing the edge of the grass, but still sitting on the driveway pavement.

Surveying the situation, the young man noticed the numerous levers and handles on the mower. Yep, it all looked good. The key probably turned it on, that pedal over there probably (hopefully) was the brake, and the rest would probably come to him mystically. He knew enough to know that one of the levers was probably “turn the blade on” and another was the speed. Eh, he’d figure it out once he got it running. As he prepared to mount the machine, his worst fears were suddenly realized.

“Gonna mow, huh?” said the next-door neighbor whose yard was fastidiously cut twice a week and whose lush, green grass displayed significant expertise in yard work.

The young man laughed nervously. “Yep, haha. Figured it wouldn’t take too long.” Silently, the young man prayed that this friendly neighbor would go on his merry way. But alas, sometimes the Lord doesn’t answer prayers the way we wish. The young man saw his opportunity to explore the intricacies of the machine slip away. No longer could he spend a couple of minutes figuring out the function of all the levers. Suddenly, it was absolutely necessary that he knew exactly what he was doing. Grasping at straws, the young man even took his time putting his headphones on, hoping this social signal would reach the neighbor. But alas again, the neighbor took this as a sign that he needed to talk EVEN LOUDER.

“YEP, WE MOWED OURS YESTERDAY,” he yelled. “GOOD IDEA TRYING TO GET THIS DONE BEFORE IT STARTS TO RAIN.” The young man nodded and then joined the neighbor in looking towards the sky. The neighbor crossed his arms and settled in for the long haul. Is he gonna watch me mow the entire yard? the young man thought. God, please let it start raining. Evidently the Lord was preoccupied with other, less frivolous requests because the young man was disappointed again.

Taking a deep breath, the young man turned the key. The engine rumbled to life. So far, so good. His leg was pushing the brake down so hard that his leg was quivering. He slowly let off the brake to get the mower fully onto the grass. The mower literally jumped forward, causing the young man to slam on the brake. He was sweating now, heart pounding. That was way too fast: let’s slow this baby down. He looked frantically around the mower for the “speed” thing. Is it a lever? A handle? A knob? His eyes settled on a handle that had options numbered one through five. The handle was on option five. Thinking quickly, the young man moved the handle down to option one. Then, foot still punishing the brake pedal, he pulled the lever to put the blade down. Immediately, there was a terrible screeching noise and the engine grinded before shutting off.

“WOAH, YOU PROBABLY WANNA PUT THAT HIGHER!” the neighbor yelled, motioning ambiguously toward...something on the mower. The young man ripped his headphones off.

“Oh...yeah?” He pulled the same handle to option three. Taking another deep breath, he started the mower again. The engine started again. He nodded knowingly toward the neighbor. The blade was still on, so the young man tried again to slowly take his foot off the brake. Like a racehorse, the mower leaped forward again. The young man hit the brake again but knew that at some point he was actually going to have to go forward more than a foot at a time. So slowly, reluctantly, he released the brake. This time when the mower jumped forward, he let it happen. His life passed before his eyes--surely no man or beast had ever traveled this fast--but still, he pressed forward. Soon the chain link fence approached, so the young man whipped the wheel to the right. The mower went on two wheels due to massive centripetal force.

The mower was now setting a land speed record as it tore down a long stretch of yard toward the impending sea wall. At some point, the neighbor wandered away and the young man decided that maybe the neighbor didn’t necessarily know what he was talking about. Hitting the brake, the young man pulled the knob back down to option one. Breathing a sigh of relief, the young man let off the brake. But shockingly, the mower leaped forward and hadn’t slowed down at all! What in the world?! thought the young man. Why isn’t the “speed” handle working?

The distance between the mower and the lake was shrinking rapidly. With only about six feet left before splashdown, he slammed on the brake again. Wiping sweat out of his eye, the young man finally spied a yellow lever placed rather inconspicuously below the steering wheel. It was labeled seven (at the top) through one (at the bottom). As the young man sat there, six feet away from water, he lowered the lever closer to the one. Holding his breath, the young man turned the wheel as he let off the brake. This time the jump was much less perceptible and the mower didn’t reach Mach speed.

Finally! The boy relaxed as he continued mowing the perimeter of the yard. This wasn’t so bad! It wasn’t until he got to the opposite corner of the yard and looked back at his handiwork that alarm bells started going off. The strip he had just mowed was startlingly short--like, shaved head, dirt patch, trying to plant a garden short. This travesty wrapped almost completely around the edge of the yard.

Groaning to himself, he realized his fatal mistake: what he had at first considered to be the “speed” knob was, in fact, that blade level. While he was trying to reign in the racecar mower by lowering the speed, he was actually lowering the blade level. The young man’s wife would later comment that it looked like the lawn had received a “bad haircut.” Tail between his legs, the young man raised the blade, finished the yard, and began praying for rain.