LUMBERJACK

We fell a bunch of trees on our property and Dad cut them up with his chainsaw.
It was a mountain of wood.
He offered to pay me to chop it.
$5 an hour.
Deal.
But it was hard work.
I had one really big log cut from the base of a tree that I used as my chopping block.
I'd place a smaller log on it
Step back
and
Crack
Crack
till it split.
Took me some time but I got pretty good at it.
If you don't hit the wood center the ax glances off.
That's a danger.
If you don't swing hard enough it's a waste of time.
So there's a balance.
Between danger and success.
Splitting a piece of wood is a wonderful feeling.
When done right it feels like a base hit
or a Home Run.
So I'd put my Men At Work tape on my boombox
and go to work.
I liked it.
It was visceral.
Tangible.
You can see the wood falling into pieces at your feet
and building into piles.
It was exhausting
and I loved it.
(Except f*ing Cherry.
Don't waste your time chopping Cherry.
It's nearly impossible.
The bark has a band around it.
I could hack my way through Alder and Cedar.
But Cherry is a waste of energy.
Just saw your Cherry up small and add it to the fire.)
Rant over...
I learned how to swing a splitting maul.
That can be a little dicey.
You jam the big metal wedge into a gap you've made.
Turn the heavy ax over to the pounding side and try to make direct contact.
It can be quite satisfying when you hit it square and the wedge digs in deeper.
Hit it again and that giant log splits in two.
It can be scary as heck when you just miss and your maul comes flying toward your leg.
Loved the work though.
It was challenging.
Made me stronger.
And I could see the piles build up.
As a young man it was a visual example of the progress being made by hard work.
One of those things where you could look at it and say,
"I did that."
Course then I had to stack it.
That wasn't as much fun.