Enough firewood?

By Christine Tailer
HCP columnist 

Some folks plan ahead. We don't, or perhaps you could say that we plan not to plan ahead, but more likely that's just how I like to think of it. Rather than gather up a winter's supply of firewood before the fall temperatures drop, we wait for that first cool day, and only then head out into the woods.

Our cabin is so small and tightly insulated that simply cooking dinner on the propane-fired stove and lighting a few candles or oil lamps can raise the inside temperature a good 10 degrees, so I never worry about the first few cool days of the year. I simply enjoy cooking dinner by candlelight all the more, realizing that the cooler weather has signaled that it’s time to pull our coveralls out from under the stairs and head out to gather firewood.

Throughout the year, on our walks along the creek or around the edges of the fields, we look for standing dead timber: elm, locust, maple, oak or walnut. We have learned that these hardwoods burn the best with a slow and steady heat. We like to find trees that have already shed their bark, leaving just the good burning wood beneath. 

I was curious, and with a bit of research, I learned that two acres of forest will provide enough good standing-dead trees to heat a small cabin such as ours. With 50 acres of forest, we have more than enough wood to choose from, so we can be picky and harvest only those trees that are easily accessible by Jeep or four-wheel drive green machine, and then we can easily move the cut logs in front of the cabin where we spilt them with a hydraulic splitter on the back of the tractor, but we are getting older, and the winter weather seems colder.

This past weekend, we realized that our woodpile had grown astonishingly low. We needed more firewood. Boot-deep snow still covered the ground. The temperature was still single digits, and we had no doubt that it was time to head out into the woods. We stood by the woodstove after our animal chores were competed, still clad in our quilted overhauls.

“There’s that place up the road that sells firewood,” I said sheepishly.

Greg grinned, “Let’s go,” and go we did. We returned home with the back of the truck filled with wood and happily stacked it or in front of the cabin. We smiled as we took off our overhauls beside the warm woodstove.

We could have driven the old farm Jeep down to our second field, and parked a safe distance from a standing dead elm tree that we knew stood about 30 feet up in the woods. Greg could have used our small chainsaw to cut a notch on the downhill side of the tree and then cut into it from behind. The tree would have fallen with a smart crack, and Greg would have then cut it up into foot-long sections. I would have gathered the logs and tossed them down the hill toward the Jeep that we would have parked as close to the tree as the forest would allow.  

I do enjoy tossing the logs. It has become a sort of game for me, kind of like bowling, or playing a forest game of nine pins. I hold each log with my right hand cradling the bottom, my left hand on the top. As I toss, I let my right hand linger below to guide the log as it rolls off my fingers. My goal is to steer the logs between the standing trees and have them stop up against the Jeep's rear tire, though sometimes they do roll on past, but this game could wait.

Age has taught us that it is all right to slow down. We’ll still head on up to that elm tree behind the first field, but we plan on waiting until the snow has melted in the sunshine and the weather is not quite so cold. We feel fortunate that we have the ability to take it easy if we choose, but we really feel fortunate that we have the ability to learn as we age. Today’s lesson is that it might be wise to plan ahead, at least when it comes into bringing in firewood. 

Christine Tailer is an attorney and former city dweller who moved several years ago, with her husband, Greg, to an off-grid farm in south-central Ohio. Visit them on the web at straightcreekvalleyfarm.com.