I was in the wood yard again early Thursday morning. I think it’s safe to say that this will be a regular thing (if not necessarily a daily one) between now and next spring.
Pulling manageable rounds off the pile created in January from the big roadside oak, I split about half of what I did the day before. It was just enough to raise my heart rate.
At the risk of treading into how-to territory — risky because I’m nowhere near qualified to teach this blog’s readers — I do want to talk about rediscovering my wood-processing rhythm. What you’re about to read are observations, not instructions.
The first thing I had to do in order to split wood effectively was improve my aim — that is, I needed to hit the damned log reliably. (My hand-eye coordination has always sucked.) I wanted the bit of my ax to strike the face of the round squarely.
I didn’t worry about exerting superhuman force. Mighty cuts can result in wild, glancing blows, and when an ax head ricochets off of a log there’s no controlling it. (Wanna see my scar?) I didn’t take roundhouse swings, even though I know how — a simple overhead-and-straight-down motion was enough.
I disciplined myself to stand well back from the chopping block, feet wide apart, and touched the bit to the round to gauge my range (reach). Then when I swung, I felt almost off-balance — almost — and I focused on keeping the ax head perpendicular to what I was striking.
I took it slow. It wasn’t a big deal if I failed to split a round with a single whack. I was building a skill at that point more than I was splitting firewood.
Gradually, as I began hitting where I aimed, I picked up the pace. I still wasn’t concerned about how hard I hit, because power isn’t what splits wood.
You golfers out there may already see where I’m going with this.
If you want to drive for distance, first you have to hit the ball squarely and consistently. Once you have that down, how far the ball travels is a function not of brute force but of club-head speed.
From the top of the backswing, it’s a drag race — you accelerate the club head so that it reaches maximum velocity just before it strikes the ball. Then, despite your subconscious tendency to let up when you feel impact, you accelerate through the ball.
I’ve found that the same mechanics apply to splitting wood.
Yes, it takes power (strength) to generate head speed. Mentally, however, whether it’s a driver or an ax, focusing on the head puts attention where it needs to be. That pays off in control.
I’ve reached the point where I’m consistently hitting where I aim. Now I’m working on ax-head speed.
It’s incredibly satisfying to strike my target with high velocity, to see the ax plow through the wood, and to feel the bit bite into the chopping block.
By no means am I an expert woodsman. I have a lot to learn and (with any luck) a lot of experience still to gain.
But I will offer one piece of actual advice.
If you have the good fortune to be able to do what I do — harvest, process and burn firewood — don’t get so caught-up in the chore that you lose touch with what’s all around you.
Yesterday morning, I was scolded by a screech owl and serenaded by a Carolina wren and a northern cardinal. I felt cool, sweet air on my face and breathed deep the sour perfume of oak as it split. I saw signs that hardwoods up on the ridge are starting to turn.
I felt my muscles burn.
There’s joy in work. Don’t miss that.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable