A situation developed here on The Mountain late Sunday that I didn’t mention in yesterday’s blog post. Honestly, that’s because I wasn’t sure how it’d play out.
The sun was down and darkness had fallen when Smudge and I took a walk around 7pm. As we stepped out the door, I saw this:
The fire was WSW of us, and close — I gauged the distance to be a mile, more or less, either on the next ridge or at the west end of Hall Mountain. Even without binoculars, I clearly could see tall flames.
When I did put glass on it, I couldn’t tell if it was a structure fire or a brush fire. It looked compact and, over the course of the next half-hour, I noticed no spread.
No sirens, either. No billowing steam that might indicate that the blaze was being fought. I surmised that a neighbor out that way was taking advantage of dead-calm conditions, forecast to stretch into Tuesday, to dispose of considerable brush.
I texted Jeff and gave him a heads-up. He was grateful and said that he’d keep an eye on it from his porch.
The Heeler had me up and out at 3am Monday morning. The bright orange glow was still there, but it hadn’t spread. I saw no flames. The air carried the smell of woodsmoke.
I found it interesting that Smudge saw the fire right away and knew it wasn’t normal. She’d seen it the night before, her gaze fixed on the strange light across the valley. Again in the morning darkness, she looked in that direction the moment we came outside.
At dawn, 12 hours after I first noticed the fire, smoke filled the creases to the west. I couldn’t see the burn itself, but a diffuse plume rose lazily from its location.
As I’ve said before, fire is a threat we think about ’round here. This one appears not to be of any danger or consequence.
To drive four ring-shank nails that’d fasten a plywood tabletop to a round of red cedar Saturday, I reached into the Ranger’s toolbox and came out with my old Estwing carpenter’s hatchet. It wasn’t until I edited a photo of it for Sunday’s blog post that I saw how neglected it was.
I dearly love this tool, but you wouldn’t know by looking at it. Rust spotted the head and shank. The stacked-leather handle was grimy. After using it throughout the motorhome journey five years ago and occasionally on The Mountain since, it hasn’t received the attention it deserves.
I won’t repeat today the whole story behind this hatchet — if you want to read that intriguing tale, click here — but I didn’t buy it new. I paid 20 bucks at an antiques shop in central Ohio, in even worse condition then than it was last weekend.
Yesterday I brought it into the cabin and set about putting it right. To start with, I immersed the business end in white vinegar for an hour. Then I attacked the stubbornest spots with a brass brush, a ScotchBrite pad and #0000 steel wool. The leather handle got a thorough scrubbing with a stiff brush and Montana Pitch Blend soap, followed by three treatments with Montana Pitch Blend oil.
Just like me (according to some folks), this carpenter’s hatchet isn’t all there. Earlier in its working life, perhaps due to a chip or a break, the bit was shortened and re-profiled. If you compare the image above to the vintage Estwing ad below, you can see that it lost about an inch of the original bit.
That relocated edge got some love as well yesterday. I began with a flat file and finished with a medium Arkansas stone. The result isn’t refined or hair-popping sharp, and I don’t want it to be — this tool is for splitting kindling and occasional light chopping. I don’t need a razor-sharp edge for that.
When I finished with it, the well-traveled hatchet once again was something to be proud of.
I’m fond of hand axes and hatchets in general, carpenter’s hatchets in particular. This Estwing No. 2 Half Hatchet, over a half-century old and with all of its scars, might be my favorite. The shortened bit lightens the head just enough, and that, at least in my hand, gives it the perfect balance for typical woods tasks.
Yeah, it’s a keeper.
THuRman
DeLonG
KIngsTon
OHIO
R#2
Thurman E. DeLong (1931-2020) was known to all as “Sonny.”
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable