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The White 2-70: a solid 70 horsepower tractor

Differentiate early and later models by the color of the stripe on the hood

IN THE SHOP with Rachel

By Rachel Gingell
Farms.com

The White 2-70 is a solid 70 horsepower tractor that can be purchased for a reasonable price. If you’re looking for a tractor that’s inexpensive, reliable and easy to work on, then the White 2-70 might be just the ticket for you!

The White 2-70 was manufactured from 1976-1982. The tractor was a part of White’s Field Boss series. The Field Boss line was White’s way of merging their many brands (Oliver, Cockshutt and Minneapolis-Moline) into one cohesive product line.

The tractor was offered with two different color schemes – early models have a gray stripe on the hood, while later models are accented with a red stripe. This is a handy way to identify tractors on the newer end of the manufacturing run. However, note that there are no mechanical differences between gray and red stripe tractors: buy whichever tractor is in better condition, regardless of production year.

White enthusiasts praise this tractor’s hard working engine. (One fan described it as “completely bulletproof.”) If well maintained, the tractor will easily reach its 70 horsepower rating – some even say they saw some of these tractors top 85 horsepower when they were “fresh from the factory.” The transmission and steering are very reliable.


White 2-70
Photo: TractorData.com

What sets this tractor apart is its ease of service. Unlike most other tractors, the 2-70 doesn’t need to be split in order to work on the clutch or the engine. This saves a lot of time and frustration when you’re doing a big repair job. The brakes and steering systems are also well-designed for ease of service. This is a perk no matter if you do mechanical work yourself or if you take it to a shop (where you pay by the hour).

Many of the systems in this tractor weren’t original to the model 2-70. That’s great news, since it means that you’ll find a lot of parts interchangeability between the 2-70 and other tractors. Today, parts are readily available to fix almost anything that could go wrong with the 2-70.

The tractor wasn’t heavy on options but what it does offer is well designed. The 2-70 came with a choice of diesel or gasoline engines. The independent PTO is really handy. The factory didn’t offer cabs, although you’ll occasionally see one for sale that had a cab added aftermarket. 


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Canada is trying to decide how much agricultural research capacity it can afford to lose. Brian Rossnagel believes the better question is whether the country can afford to rebuild it.

The longtime barley and oat breeder makes the case with a simple fact about his profession: the consequences of today’s decisions may not become visible for 10 or 15 years.

“Pick the right parents. That’s the biggest thing,” Rossnagel says. “If you pick the wrong parents, you’re not going to get anywhere—and you don’t know that until 10 years, 15 years later.”

That warning carries particular weight as Agriculture and Agri-Food Canada moves to reduce spending and streamline parts of its science operations. The department’s 2026–27 plan anticipates the loss of approximately 665 positions by 2028–29 and says some research will be reduced where capacity exists in academia or industry. AAFC says the changes will make its science operations more cost-effective over the long term.

For Canada’s seed industry, Rossnagel’s career illustrates what is at stake.

This fall, the retired University of Saskatchewan breeder will be inducted into the Canadian Agricultural Hall of Fame. During his 35-year career at the Crop Development Centre, he helped develop more than 100 barley and oat varieties, including CDC Austenson—one of Western Canada’s most widely grown feed barleys. His induction recognizes not only those varieties, but the collaboration and research system that made them possible.

Rossnagel is quick to emphasize that none of it was the work of one person.

“The first thing I thought about was all the other people who contributed to whatever success I and my program had over the years,” he says. “We know that it’s not an individual who does this. It’s a group—a team.”

That team extends well beyond the breeder whose name appears beside a variety. It includes technicians, pathologists, quality specialists, statisticians, regional testing sites, seed growers and industry partners. It also includes the breeders who came before and those who will carry the germplasm forward.

CDC Fraser barley, for example, moved through three breeding careers. Its parents came from Brian Harvey’s program. Rossnagel advanced the material after Harvey retired, and Aaron Beattie later guided it through registration and release.

That kind of handoff is normal in plant breeding. The person who makes the original cross may never see the resulting variety reach farmers.

It also explains why lost research capacity cannot simply be switched back on when budgets improve.

“If you shut it off, it’s very, very difficult—and particularly costly—to start it up again,” Rossnagel says. “If you have to start from scratch, it’s going to be at least 10 years before anybody notices whether you’re getting anything done or not.”

The concern is not simply how many experimental lines Canada can process. Modern equipment, statistical tools and genetic technologies allow today’s breeding programs to evaluate tens of thousands of lines—far more than Rossnagel could handle when he entered the field in the early 1970s.

But efficiency and automation do not generate every idea.

“If you pare back down, and instead of having six or seven individual scientists concentrating on wheat breeding, you go down and say three people could handle all this, well, that’s half the ideas gone,” he says. “Particularly if you happen to lose the three people who had the really neat and innovative ideas, boy, that’s a problem.”

It is a timely distinction for Canadian agriculture. Consolidating programs may preserve the volume of material moving through a system, at least initially. It may not preserve the diversity of thinking, regional knowledge or willingness to pursue unconventional crosses.

That regional knowledge matters because Canadian agriculture is not one uniform production environment. A variety suited to southern Alberta may face different disease, moisture and maturity pressures than one grown in Manitoba, Ontario or Atlantic Canada.

“Agriculture is applied biology,” Rossnagel says. “Biology, all around the Earth, moves from the poles to the equator. It does not move from Newfoundland to B.C. like politics do.”