The sun had cleared the ridges by the time I got to Daybreak Point yesterday morning. Y’know, I still haven’t actually witnessed daybreak from that location, though it’s one of the first places on The Mountain to see sunlight every day.
Not long after I arrived, the warm glow disappeared behind overcast that was predicted to last all day. And it did until mid-afternoon, when it cleared up a bit.
I pulled several flat rocks from the bed of the Ranger. I’d picked them up on my way past the roadside shale outcrop, but these weren’t intended for trail repair — I had another purpose in mind.
The fire ring now has a convenient “countertop.”
My primary reason for returning on this Sunday morning was to set aside a modest supply of firewood on the makeshift rack I put down Saturday. First, however, the chainsaw and I had other business to conduct.
We made two dozen cookies.
See, when I felled countless small trees to clear that area, I made sure to cut as close to the ground as possible. But after the weight of recent snow compressed the duff, hazards I tried to eliminate were exposed. Again, one by one, I shaved the stumps as low as I dared without grounding the saw. That resulted in disks of wood, or “cookies.”
Then I took a break, sat down at my new table and had some coffee.
Thus warmed and rested, I collected cedar poles produced by my clearing and gave them their own spot. I have a feeling they’ll come in handy for simple projects around Daybreak.
There will be more, I’m sure.
What remained on the woodpile, then, was junk hardwood, dead and dry and ready to burn in the fire ring. I bucked it and stacked it on the runners.
It’ll be enough for a nice morning fire one of these days soon.
I’d like to call your attention to a couple of things in the image above. First and most obvious are the small ax and pruning saw on top of the wood. Those will stay there, just in case I trek out to the east slope without tools.
Second — and this is hard to see unless you zoom in — to the left of the pruning saw is a quantity of kindling and other firemaking materials like fine cedar twigs and bark. It only made sense to pull that stuff together in advance and keep it dry.
A (camo) tarp, weighted down with rocks, finished the job.
It’s exactly what I wanted.
I had one more tree to drop and buck yesterday, a 20-foot chinquapin oak, a little over four inches at the base. Because it was live, the wood would need to season before burning, so I loaded it into the bed for transport back to the wood yard.
That’s 15 solid stove lengths of great firewood. Too good to pass up.
I took another break, this time relaxing in my wooden chair with the awesome view. More coffee, plus a CLIF Bar. As I looked out into the woods, I thought I saw a couple of dead hardwoods within easy reach downslope.
I got up, I grabbed my chainsaw and headed in that direction.
I hadn’t gone far when I heard leaves rustling to my left. Turkey? Whitetail? Nope — a very healthy-looking coyote, at a trot, passed not 20 yards in front of me.
It’s the middle of mating season, which might explain such a sighting at 9:45am.
No sooner had the coyote disappeared into the cedars to my south when I came upon this:
I’m not inclined to connect that to the ‘yote — it appears to be a plucked kill, and they generally don’t do that. More likely, it’s the work of a bobcat or a hawk.
No, I don’t know what kind of bird the feathers belonged to. Mourning dove, possibly.
But I was on the hunt for firewood, and firewood I found — two respectably large (four to seven inches) fallen oaks, both perfectly sound despite having been down for a while. I cut them into lengths I could handle and carried them up the slope.
I’ll buck ’em next trip.
Since y’all weren’t out there with me Saturday and Sunday, I don’t know if my description of what I did makes it sound like a little or a lot. It feels to me like I accomplished a lot.
As always, any time in the woods is time well spent.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable