Not for the faint of heart

So there I was. Alone. In the woods. My chainsaw as my talisman – it was me…or the tree…It was perhaps one of the largest trees on my property, two chainsaw lengths across. It was my Goliath. It stood in silent challenge. Silent because it was dead which is one of the reasons I chose it as my opponent. The other was I had never cut down a tree that large. Well, not and still had a chainsaw bar that was straight.

I approached with stealth as I surveyed my archnemesis. It was midway through the second cut that it occurred to me to ponder the wisdom of cutting down a tree that big, the realization suddenly hitting me that I’d have to carry the pieces of it out to the tractor which stood out in the open trail.

Then it hit me. Excalibur. My new 50 horsepower diesel steed, it’s front end loader standing in challenge to all that needed carrying. Or grading. Or lifting up. Or dumping out. Or just driving around the pasture because diesels sound so cool…. Others have used their tractors to skidsteer the logs out – why should I be denied that right?

There came a point in the battle when we stood there. Goliath. Myself. Excalibur. Waiting. The cut went 3/4 of the way through. Professional loggers die due to things like this. I bought my chainsaw because it had a cool handle and “anti-vibration” shock absorbers…. Do I cut more? Do I wait for a windy day to finish it off? No. That seemed cruel. Plus, I started this battle with a roaring Husqvarna, it was time to finish it. The snow-covered silence of the woods once again gave way to the growl of my Husqy, which eagerly bit back into the trunk…finally…a small crack… I backed away. In short order, Goliath swayed once and began its plunge to forest floor. I tipped my cowboy hat in silent salute to the fallen forest sentry.

After cutting the tree into sections and wrapping a long cable around it and knocking down a huge section of my woods with my new metal charge – we battled. We fought. Tires dug themselves in to ruts. Several times I had to re-group, the only thing moving was the gentley wafting haze of my cigar smoke as I wondered if amateurs should really attempt feats like this with new equipment.
Suddenly we broke free of the woods into the clearing, emerging dragging sections of tree into the clear where despite what the manual says I still managed to get those sections into the bucket and came home long after the sun set, moving majestically through the wintery night across a moonlit pasture, signal and headlights ablaze, to pose for the pictures you now see, to show those those naysaying detractors about the battle they would never believe occurred.

This is the story of one cowboy’s exploits aboard his steel horse, Excalibur, and their heart-wrenching victory against all odds. Boldly going where no amateur has gone before.