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Ubi Libertas

3 months ago

The lowest numbers we saw Sunday morning were 10°F (temperature) and 4°F (“feels like”). Miss Smudge and I had spent the night camped out in the living room in front of the woodstove, where it never dropped below 60°F.

To maintain even that level of comfort took every bit of heat I could throw at the chill — wood (I stoked the stove about once an hour throughout the night) and electric (the through-the-wall unit ran non-stop). Firewood is no problem, obviously, but my next electric bill likely will break the bank.

In an un-skirted cabin with little insulation and no ceiling, that couldn’t be helped. This was time to do whatever it took to stay warm, not to fret about finances.

Smudge was a mite confused about the change in our sleeping arrangements. I took up a position on the chair and instructed her to stay on the love seat. She didn’t like that. The very first time I got up to tend the fire, she jumped across to the chair and curled up.

And so we switched.

By morning, she was on the dog bed next to the love seat. That’s her pictured above, nestled under three blankets that I warmed in front of the woodstove before tucking her in.

It’s just the kind of dad I am.

For two days, accumulated ashes and coals had been making it difficult to load the firebox. Interfering with the draft, too. Running the stove hard, though, meant that the floor of the firebox always was full of hot, cherry-red coals.

I kinda like to wait ’til it cools some before I scoop. That wouldn’t be an option this time.

I let it burn down as far as I responsibly could and did the deed yesterday morning. Slowly. Deliberately. There were no mishaps.

Pro tip: Pouring hot coffee into a cold stoneware mug (or an insulated tumbler) cools off the coffee fast. One solution is to run hot tap water in the vessel to warm it up first. Another is to set it upside-down on top of a hot woodstove for 30 seconds.

Keepin’ the woodstove crankin’ Saturday night consumed half the fuel on the indoor rack. I’d have to replenish it at some point yesterday. The forecast said 42°F and sunny by 4pm, but I meant to get it done before noon.

As usual, despite temps in the low 20s, I also wanted to be productive. I decided to take my 20V chainsaw into the same area I’d just mined and see what I could find.

That particular slope has western and northwestern exposure. It sees some of the strongest winds we get. To illustrate, I snapped this image yesterday morning, facing roughly NNW:

More of those trees bend than break, for sure, but all shed limbs. Some are weakened. And some come down — the (Country) definition of “windfall” — sooner than those growing on southern and eastern slopes.

And that’s why it’s a great place to forage for wood.

Anyway, all I wanted on Sunday was to come out with two armloads of firewood-to-be. That’s it. A couple of small trees, standing dead and solid, made it happen for me.

My walk in the woods yielded more than that, however.

I found a fair-sized standing-dead oak — ten inches at the base and a good 35 feet tall. I have no idea how I missed it before. Though I didn’t bring it out yesterday, I did put it on the ground.

That’ll give me a decent amount of high-BTU fuel. Score.

There was one other surprise, and it had nothing to do with firewood.

Truth is, I’ve known about this small outcrop of shale for a few years. It was exposed originally when the site contractor cleared a spot to park heavy equipment next to the road.

The surprise? An idea popped into my head when I stepped out of the Ranger and onto pieces of broken shale.

Stay with me.

Busted-up shale is, in simple terms, flat rocks. This spot features chunks of all sizes, ranging in thickness from a half-inch to a few inches. Even the biggest, a foot or two across, can be hand-carried easily — it’s not heavy stuff.

And that’s when I hatched my idea.

The biggest flaw in the buggy trail to the east slope is the stretch where sharp, tire-biting dolostone ledge must be navigated. There’s more than enough shale in this spot to “pave” the worst spots — essentially spanning the space between outcrops, raising it slightly and easing the transitions.

I wouldn’t have to do it all at once, either. The shale is right on my way, so I can pick up a few pieces each trip and do my paving a little at a time.

This makes me happy.