Archives for category: Wood burning

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Notice Anything New?

Can you see it? It’s transformational! It changes everything.

This isn’t smoke and mirrors. (Well, maybe smoke.)

I’ll give you a hint. It’s about heat.

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Waiting on Color

A.V. Walters

Color is late this year. Not just here, I’m hearing it everywhere. Back home, where normally it would be finishing up by now, most of the trees are still green. Here we’re a couple of weeks behind–and we’re only seeing the occasional branch, or isolated tree, that has bolted into spectacular. I keep telling myself I’ll blog when I can post great color shots. And then I wait.

It’s not like the weather hasn’t changed. It’s autumn here. Night time temps are dropping into the 40s. I have to harvest the last of my basil and tomatoes, before the first hard frost. I’m staining the cabin–and some days it’s too chilly to stain. Though staining is akin to paint–and should be an improvement–Rick and I have grown attached to the look of cedar logs. They must be stained, to protect from rot and UV damage. Still, we like the natural look and cringe that the work I’m doing makes the cabin look like Lincoln Logs. I’m sure I’ll get enough warm days to get the first coat on–the cooler days I use for prep. Rainy days, I work on the computer. Rick is busy putting in the septic. Those cool power tools, the Kubota and the backhoe, are seeing good use. We’ll get it in, and inspected, just in time for the weather to really turn.

Some folks plan their vacations around color. It’s a risky venture–trying to guess when nature will accommodate. Is it a failure if you head off to the boonies–and have only green to reward you? I suppose an early winter would be worse–or a dry year with only shriveled, brown leaves. Our neck of the woods has recently been voted the best color-drive in the country. I don’t know how such things are judged. (I’ll bet folks back in the Keweenaw, or at the Porcupine Mountains, will think the jig is rigged.) I only know that it will extend our tourist season–which can’t be all bad for the local economy. The wine-tasting vineyards and orchard stands will be happy.

In the meantime, we keep working. It’s a year late, but we have our winter-defendable shell in place. The doors and windows went in last week. Once we get the chimney in, we’ll actually be able to heat it, making for a cozy place to work until it’s ready for us to move in. All things in due time. Next time, color shots!

Ibuprofen Monday

A.V. Walters

Spring Peeking Through

Spring Peeking Through

It was a glorious weekend. Temperatures in the 60s and sunshine! Almost all of the snow is gone—except in a few spots in the shade (north facing slopes) or where Rick piled it with the blower during the winter.

There are a thousand things we should be doing. But the ground is not yet thawed, and … well, we rationalized why the highest and best use of our time would be to open up the trails to the “back forty.” The property has a slightly graded panhandle (for road access) and then a chunk of steep hills and valleys leading to an upper meadow. On foot, it’s a heavy breathing hike. Until now, we’ve only been able to access it with a vehicle by going on an old logging road through the neighbors’ back yard. The neighbors have been good about it, but not enthusiastic. So, really it was about getting access and keeping good neighborly relations. It had nothing to do with the outrageous weather.

We need the access because back there is where we harvest the deadfall for our firewood heating supply. The hills are heavily forested and, especially with the Emerald Ash Borer losses, they are littered with standing and dropped dead trees.

This ash is doomed. Pileated woodpeckers have  chipped off the bark surface to get at the borers, below.

This ash is doomed. Pileated woodpeckers have chipped off the bark surface to get at the borers, below.

It breaks our hearts, to see these dead any dying trees but we’d be fools to let the wood go to waste. The property is criss-crossed with old (and pretty steep) logging roads, many of them blocked with fallen trees. The weekend would be a trail clearing exercise. It was not to be a harvesting foray.

It started like this, just to clear the trail:

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But one thing led to another…and there was this:

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And then, when we made it over the ridge and down the trail on the Kubota, we could hardly contain ourselves. So there was this:

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And then, a couple of stragglers on the way home yielded this:

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We are agog over how much safer and easier the firewood harvest can be with Kubota assist. You can chain lift logs for safer sawing access, or just drag them down the slopes to cut where there’s no danger of rolling. Even with that, it’s heavy work. We came home each night achy and sweaty, but elated. We’re naming the “new roads” as we open them up.

Believe it or not, that's the "road."

Believe it or not, that’s the “road.”

The woods are lovely this early in the year. There’s the carpet of leaves, and just the tips of the wild leeks and Dutchman’s Breeches peeking through.

There’s only one hitch. Now there’s no doubt that we need a little trailer. Our lovely circuitous trails can get us in to make wood—but that’s where the wood will stay until we can wrangle a trailer in. It’s too much wood to try to remove with just the loader.

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And like many in the Midwest, after the first incredible weekend of spring, we’re stiff and sore.