Chuck Zumbrun

Tales from Skunk Hill

I’m a Lumberjack

February 7, 2015

I love cutting wood.

When you get done cutting a load of firewood you sure enough know you’ve done something. You’re soaked in sweat, despite it being winter. Your arms ache, and if you’re an old guy like me, your back does too. You have sawdust in your ears, and they’re ringing from the howl of the chain saw. Your face is scratched from being tagged by branches.

And you have a big old pickup load of wood to show for it. Next year when that wood’s seasoned we’ll put it in the fire and enjoy it all over again.

There’s not a much better way to spend an afternoon than with a chainsaw[1].

1. And it’s even better when it’s your dad’s chainsaw and you can remember him. Lord, could he swing an ax.

4 responses to “I’m a Lumberjack”

Missy

February 7, 2015

And you’re all right.

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1. Chuck
  
  February 12, 2015
  
  I’m sure you meant “I’m OK”
  
  Reply
  1. Missy
    
    February 12, 2015
    
    Whatever it is. Wasn’t concerned enough to look it up but figured you’d want to know that someone got it. Would’ve taken the time to look it up if you had included a picture of yourself in the appropriate attire.
    
    Reply
Mom

February 14, 2015

Bon loved going to the woods to spend a morning cutting downed trees or cleaning fence rows of encroaching trees. It was a time of renewal, somehow, for him. He always came back relaxed and happy. Throughout his life he shared wood cutting with two friends and did not respond to anyone else who wanted to go with him.
One time wasn’t so relaxing. He came to the house with a big tear in his coverall pant leg and asked me to look at his leg. He had cut through his clothes and his leg was bleeding. He was afraid to look. He had heard about men cutting a leg off or nearly off and cold numbing the pain so they didn’t seek help. He said he was afraid if he saw a nearly severed leg, he would faint and not be able to drive the tractor to the house. His cut was shallow and his tetanus shot up to date, so he bandaged it himself.
I think he did go to the woods with you and maybe Dave. It may have been after he wasn’t well enough to work, but “supervised.” I know sometimes he felled trees and wanted only another person along who understood safe procedures. He knew It could be a deadly activity as well as a recreational one.

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I’m a Lumberjack

4 responses to “I’m a Lumberjack”

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