Not catastrophic.
Walter looked at the crank journals.
“Lucky.”
Hannah exhaled.
“How lucky?”
“Not cheap.”
That was his version of optimism.
Engine in-frame overhaul.
Bearings.
Oil pump.
Gaskets.
Injectors checked.
Head serviced.
Hoses replaced.
Cooling system addressed.
Parts and machine work: $6,900.
Lost jobs: roughly $8,000.
Hannah’s bank balance collapsed.
For three weeks she wondered whether Dale had been right from the beginning.
A newer machine came with payments.
But also uptime.
At least theoretically.
Warranty.
Dealer support.
Financing.
She sat at the kitchen table staring at numbers.
The 648 had generated enough profit to pay for repairs.
But that did not mean reinvesting was always correct.
Sunk-cost thinking could trap people.
She asked herself one question.
If she did not already own the skidder, would she spend $6,900 today for a machine with a rebuilt transmission, fresh winch cable, known hydraulic system, repaired brakes, and an engine needing overhaul?
Yes.
Immediately.
Then repair was rational.
She wrote the check.
Walter helped reassemble.
On first start, the engine caught after six seconds.
Oil pressure climbed.
Steady.
Hannah watched the gauge.
Walter smiled.
“You can breathe.”
She did.
The rebuilt engine changed the machine’s economics again.
More invested.
Lower near-term engine risk.
She updated cost model.
Depreciation increased.
Repair reserve changed.
Productive hour cost now closer to $46.
Still workable.
The real difference came from reliability.
For the next seventeen months, the Deere had no major mechanical failure.
Small things.
Alternator.
Hose.
Starter solenoid.
Wheel seal seep.
Nothing that stopped work for long.
Meanwhile, the forestry market softened.
Pulpwood prices fell.
Several production loggers struggled.
Not because their machines were bad.
Because expensive machines require utilization.
A $300,000 skidder sitting still does not stop costing money.
Loan payment.
Insurance.
Depreciation.
Opportunity cost.
Hannah’s machine sitting still cost less.
That gave her flexibility.
She began taking non-logging work.
Pulling storm-fallen trees from farm fields.
Dragging old fence rows.
Moving large timber beams for barn restorations.
Winching equipment.
Clearing access for maple operations.
Trail building.
Habitat improvement.
Firewood extraction.
Utility contractors occasionally hired her for support in areas where larger equipment could not easily mobilize.
The skidder became less of a logging machine and more of a pulling business.
Hannah realized that distinction mattered.
She was not selling machine time.
She was selling controlled force in difficult places.
That was the business.
The biggest contract came after an ice storm.
Late December.
Rain fell onto frozen surfaces for nine hours.
By morning, trees across three counties carried thick glassy ice.
Branches broke.
Power lines fell.
Farm lanes disappeared beneath timber.
The county road department handled roads.
Utilities handled lines.