It’s been dry lately here in Ozarkansas. Even though I was aware of that, I haven’t been paying particular attention to the USDA Drought Monitor or the wildfire-danger advisories put out by the Arkansas Division of Forestry.
Turns out the residents of Marion County, along with Boone to the west and 20 or so counties south of us, are experiencing “moderate drought.” Across the White River to the east, most of Baxter County is in “severe drought.”
Forestry’s guidance hasn’t been tracking with drought conditions, however. As recently as yesterday morning, the agency deemed wildfire danger to be “low” over the vast majority of the state, with only extreme northwest Arkansas designated “moderate.”
A handful of counties in that corner have imposed burn bans.
Suddenly, on Tuesday afternoon, the map changed drastically.
And late last night, it changed again.
Looks like I need to start keeping tabs on this stuff again. I want my trash burns to stay a step ahead of any county-wide ban.
The wood yard on the lower level has taken shape over almost three years. I conceived it as a single, central and purposeful place to process and store firewood. Though I tweak the layout every now and then, most recently last week, I’m happy with how it’s turned out. It just plain works.
You know that I do some of my processing in the field. I’m talking specifically about bucking, which makes it easier to transport what I harvest to the yard. One thing I’ve not done off-site, however, is splitting — bucked wood always comes back to the yard, where I can make use of my chopping blocks.
Yesterday morning, I was in the mood to try something different.
At the end of the new trail are half a dozen log lengths ranging from four to ten feet long, plus two piles of bucked wood. I calculated that neither of those piles would fit into the Ranger’s bed — in one trip, I mean — unless they were split first.
I decided to attack one pile and see how it went. The stump of the tree I’m harvesting, fittingly, would serve as my chopping block.
When I arrived at the spot around 10:30am Tuesday, I looked around and came up with a game plan. I rolled three rounds downslope to the stump and started banging away with my splitting ax.
The unseasoned oak gave way relatively easily, actually. Maybe it was the wood, or maybe I’m just getting better at this. (Probably a little of both.) Once I finished a round, each of which yielded three or four stove lengths, I tossed the splits into the cargo sled.
I filled the sled twice and generated one half-sled. I stacked the wood in the bed of the buggy and, for the first time, I used ratchet straps to secure the load.
And I made one pile disappear. One more remains.
Another day.
I sat down on a log, took a deep breath and sipped coffee from an insulated tumbler. Still hot. I refueled with a CLIF Bar (crunchy peanut butter, my go-to).
After a brief rest, I stood up and walked to the Ranger. The feeling of satisfaction was almost overwhelming.
There’s joy in this work.
Earlier, I’d felled a small hickory to create more room to turn around at the end of the trail. That small amount of wood, plus the load of fresh splits, brought 2026-2027 pallet #4 to three-quarters full.
Nothing in my experience compares to the life I’m living these days. It’s great to be here.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable