SO YOU WANT TO BE A LUMBERJACK

Let's be honest - lumberjacks are the original hipsters. Vintage plaid, beards worthy of the frontier, and suspenders? It's no coincidence!

All jealousy for flapjacks and giant blue oxes aside, there's a lot more to lumberjacks than meets the eye. I happen to know this because today - for the first time - I pretended to be one. 

Crunching through the icy woods, Beau and I set out to find a tree to cut down to use for firewood at the farmhouse. 

The entrance to the forest.

Shanty tucked deep in the woods.

We finally came upon an old oak - dead and leaning. Its once-magnificent presence was fading into the winter landscape, but it was just what we were looking for. Beau acted as the cutter or sawyer with his trusty axe and STIHL chain saw - and I was appointed as the swamper, the person who scampers behind, picking up logs, branches and brush (kind of like an over-excited squirrel collecting acorns).

Beau geared up for sawing.

'CRACKLE.' The woods echoed as the tree tipped down, now separated from its base. I'll never forget the thunderous way the earth shook when the trunk shuddered to the ground - or how still it seemed afterwards, as the tree lay in the quiet chill of the forest. 

We spent nearly four hours bucking, limbing and cutting up the tree (it looked like a sushi roll!) Beau had sawdust in his beard. Twigs somehow found their way into my snow pants. We took a break now and then, sitting on the large rounds from the tree, feet dangling above the ground. 

Can you count the rings?

Beau shows where he made the "face cut" - an angled notch that ensures the tree falls in the intended direction.

With the trailer full, we headed for home. I kept peeking in the rear view mirror to make sure the logs stayed nestled in their place. We were tired - but it was that deliciously satisfying kind of tired that comes from working outside - the kind that centers you, brings you to a peaceful place, and makes food taste so, so good.

Four hours and 1,500 pounds of logs later...

But the big question left on everyone's minds is how do you know the difference between a hipster and a TRUE lumberjack? I leave you with this hint from Beau (who was in the U.S. Forest Service):

When felling a tree, you typically yell three times - once when you do the face cut, you shout "Face cut, tree falling." When you deliver the back cut, you announce "Back cut, tree falling," and when you deliver the final coup de grace you yell (excitedly) "Tree falling!" 

So - none of this shouting 'Timber' business. <3 Grace

A souvenir from today's adventure deserved a spot of honor at home.