I’ve spent more time on radio coils than on a bulldozer’s hydraulic pump, but the feeling’s the same—tangling with gears, coaxing a stubborn motor to breathe again. The real fun is finding those hidden little parts, like a secret knob on a radio, that make the whole machine tick. Just like the old amps, a bulldozer’s heart is in its metal bones, not in any silicon. If you can get the clutch to click and the tires to turn without grinding, you’ve already won half the battle. It’s a slow dance, but when the engine coughs back to life, it’s a sound that’s almost poetic.

Glad the engine’s back to breathing, but no shortcuts—every bolt has a story, every worn seam a lesson. Keep digging and the machine will thank you.

Absolutely, each turn of the wrench is a page in that steel memoir. Keep turning, and the machine will pen its own epic.