The task of harvesting that oak on the east slope began Thursday. I confirmed it was worth the trouble and plotted how to bring it out. The next step, it seemed to me, would be to remove anything I wouldn’t use.
Shortly before 8am yesterday, I loaded the buggy, rolled down to the crest and parked opposite the cairn I’d made the day before. I often linger at that spot because it offers one of the best views on The Mountain, just before the road descends steeply almost 200 vertical feet.
(I know, I know, you’ve seen that perspective before. You can be absolutely sure that you’ll see it again, too — I love the view. I’ll keep sharing it ’til there’s a law against it.)
I topped off my pole saw with bar-oil…
…and, since it’s “modern gun” deer season in Ozarkansas, I donned an orange hat and vest.
I don’t expect any hunters to venture onto these 20 acres, and my worksite is well into the interior, but it was the right thing to do. I’ve been hearing a dozen or more rifle shots every morning.
Once in the woods, I stopped and listened to a very different sound, one that never gets old — falling leaves. It was both inescapable and delicate, with the timbre of a soft breeze and a gentle rain.
Nearby, a tom turkey gobbled.
Now, to give you an idea of what I meant to accomplish yesterday, here’s a shot of the unmolested fallen oak, taken Thursday:
This is not an insubstantial tree. The crown, however, was fairly compact, and the pole saw allowed me to reach in and do my limbing without getting my feet tangled.
I started at the base and worked my way up. Everything I cut away got pitched either downslope (discards) or upslope (keepers).
About 30 minutes later, this is what remained:
After a brief pause, I checked myself and found that I had a little more work in me. I returned to the Ranger, fetched a chainsaw and set about removing the large limbs above the fork — essentially leaving only the trunk.
That proceeded smoothly and quickly, so I went ahead and cut the trunk into lengths suitable for skidding to the roadside. This was the result:
I stopped there for the day.
What I ended up with was 17 feet of trunk, 14 inches across at the base tapering to nine at the fork. Three big limbs, ranging from eight inches in diameter down to three, accounted for approximately 22 linear feet.
That’s a lot of “free” firewood.
Best of all, my saw cuts revealed that the wood is even more solid than I thought. A nice surprise.
Oh, one more thing — when this tree fell, its trunk snapped nine or ten feet up. That standing trunk is still there. I thumped it yesterday with my hatchet and got a wonderfully solid thunk in response.
I’ll have to come back with a bigger saw and drop it to be sure. But even if the lower trunk is partially hollow, I may be looking at even more “free” firewood.
Obviously, I dig this stuff. It’s addictive. Thanks for indulging my practical obsession.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable