The crosscut saw
The five-foot, tooth laddened, blade seemed to sing as it tore through the birch log, all in a primal way as if the power of two people could actually accomplish something to a music. There had to be a cooperation between the two of us, probably one that had to be developed over time. Too much pushing here and pulling there and it would become a struggle, an inefficient act that would wear us both out.
With a little time, we had it and the seven-inch birch log fell apart, beaten by human effort. This was just a test of an historical perspective that most of us have, I am sure, forgotten with the passing of time and the invention of the chain saw some seventy five-years ago.
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In fact, it turns out that the beloved chainsaw was not in wide use until after I graduated from high school in ’61. But in thinking about that, I suspect using wood for heat was also not common then as the lust for fossil fuels was growing in leaps and bounds and the idea of cutting and splitting wood was only a novel idea that Abraham Lincoln and Ronald Reagan enjoyed. It was rather like old time fiddle music, the concept just disappeared with the invention of modern ‘stuff’.
It is no secret we have always enjoyed wood heat, after all, the stove that heats our home to this day we purchased from Nellie Lamberson in Kiowa, Colorado in 1971. No doubt it came to that remote part of America in a wagon pulled by horses. It is dated 1885.
In a rash of truthfulness, I have to admit every ounce of wood that has passed through it was felled and processed with the use of the chainsaw. This is all well and good but it means we have only enjoyed the high side of this enterprise because after all, a couple of days and two gallons of gas could easily produce a year’s worth of wood fuel—doesn’t allow for moving it or stacking, or splitting or cleaning up the mess but still. Easy stuff, really.
It is easy to pine endlessly on the radiant heat, the subtle whiff of wood smoke, even the many gentle odors that come of each and every log brought into the house, it’s a primal thing maybe even an act locked into the agenda of our genes. The open flame, the radiant heat brings folks around with such a draw it has to be entwined in our very being as if it evolved with us.
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The huge, waiting saw was cleaned, the teeth checked for sharpness noting the amount of skilled effort it would take to keep it sharp and make those cutters cant at just the right pitch and the rakers tidy. Satisfied with the condition of the antiquated saw, we set about tightening the handles and, of course, thinking we were lumberjacks of a sort—without plaid wool shirts and Stormy Cromer hats.
The blade in its flexibility appeared more suitable for playing a fiddle tune than actually cutting something but we had seen it done so we were off to the races looking to lay up a good cord or two. Our first quibble came with the cutting buck, which has to be a rather stout tool all by itself or the entire operation will end up sprawled on the ground like we had taken a direct tornado hit. With some salvaged white cedar posts and a couple of bolts, a buck of sorts was fabricated, even though it turned out to be less than adequate, but functional in a backyard way—make us more like backwood lumber jackasses. Still we pushed and pulled on to find we could cut the birch log in maybe three minutes. For a first effort it seemed well enough but to compete or be real jacks we would have to up our game.
Satisfied we called it a day. In a later study I found that being a cutter of trees, say one-hundred and twenty years ago was not the noble thing we now romanticize but deemed the lowest of human jobs—and the guys who had to get on their knees to drop a tree were lower yet. But it was noble, and worthy for the heat that was produced. I suspect, if we had to do the push and pull of the massive crosscut, we would, because that wonderful wood heat is just too pleasant to pass up.
I also just read that if everyone in this fine country heated with wood, the entire place would look like Easter Island in five years!