Waking the lawnmower

Waking the lawnmower in April begins in the shed, where the machine has sat since the last cut of October, dried grass still crusted to the underside of its deck. The owner wheels it out onto the gravel before the sun clears the trees, sets it on level ground, and goes back for the tools. The grass is greening, the frost is still on it, and the first mowing of the year hangs a week or two off — close enough to smell.

The first look

The owner starts on the outside, knocking the crusted clippings off the deck with a stick and running a gloved hand underneath for rust where the paint has chipped. The housing is checked for dents, the tires for slow flats, the pull cord for fraying at the handle. The mower is tipped forward onto its rear wheels so the underside sees daylight, and the deck is scraped clean with a putty knife until the steel shows through. The dipstick comes out on a rag and goes back in, and the level is read in the cold air. The deck shows bare steel where the clippings were scraped away.

Draining the old fuel

The gas that sat in the tank since October has gone sour, the color of tea, with a smell like varnish that hangs in the shed. It is siphoned out with a length of hose into a steel can, and the carburetor's float bowl is drained by loosening the screw on its underside and letting the last of it run past the fuel line. What comes out is cloudy and sharp. The old fuel goes into a can with a tight lid, set aside to be disposed of. The fuel line runs empty and clear from the tank to the carburetor.

Fresh oil, fresh gas

The drain plug under the crankcase comes out, and the winter's oil runs into a pan, thin and black, carrying the summer's wear with it. The plug goes back in, fresh oil measured in a cup is poured down the dipstick tube, and the level is checked with the mower sitting level on the gravel. Then the tank is filled, not to the very lip but close, with the season's first purchase of gasoline. New gas smells sharp in the cold air. The dipstick comes up clean amber, and the gas cap goes back on and turns to its stop.

The spark plug

The plug wire comes off with a tug and is set aside, out of the way. A socket on an extension reaches down to the spark plug, and the plug turns out of the head after a winter's grip — its business end fouled black with soot, or the electrode worn round with last year's miles. If the porcelain is cracked, the plug is replaced whole; if it is only fouled, the end is cleaned with a wire brush until the metal shows. The gap is set to the distance the manual calls for, and the plug is threaded back in by hand so the threads catch true, then snugged with the socket. The plug sits in its hole with the porcelain pale and clean, and the wire is pressed back on until it clicks.

The air filter

If it is paper, it comes out and is tapped against a palm until the dust stops falling. If it is foam, it is washed in soapy water, squeezed dry, and worked with a few drops of oil in a plastic bag. Either way it is checked for holes before it goes back — a torn filter lets grit into the engine. The housing is wiped out with a rag until the casting is clean. The filter sits in its housing clean, and the cover snaps shut over it.

The blade

With the plug wire already off, the mower is tipped onto its side, carburetor up so the oil stays where it belongs. The bolt in the center of the blade is held with a wrench while a block of wood jams the blade still. The blade comes off carrying a season of nicks from stones and the gray shine of worn steel. Its edge is drawn across a file at the angle it already has, working from the center out, until a thumbnail catches on a fresh burr. The blade is then hung on a nail through its center hole to balance — the heavy side drops, and metal comes off that side until it hangs level. The blade is bolted back in place, snug and level, its fresh edge facing the way it turns.

The first pull

Fuel runs to the carburetor, the choke closes, and a finger presses the primer bulb a few times. The cord is pulled, a short hard pull. The engine turns over with a thick resistance, once, twice, and on the third pull it coughs — a puff of white smoke from the muffler — catches, and settles into a rough idle. The choke opens as it warms, and the idle smooths out to the familiar thump-thump-thump. The owner walks it to the edge of the lawn, drops the bail, and takes the first strip of grass of the year, leaving a dark green stripe behind. The mower sits at the lawn's edge, idling warm, with the day's first clippings sticking wet to the underside of its deck.