How Not to Cut a Tree

I was in the woods yesterday hurrying to fill another firewood permit before the snow flies later today. I found a smallish, standing-dead Douglas fir. It was leaning the wrong way, but I figured that I could out-smart it and drop it where I needed it. Wrong. I put on a short primer called "how not to cut a tree" and ended up having it settle on my back-cut, closing the kerf and irrevocably pinching my bar and chain. This is never a good situation, but it is even worse when the tree is standing over your head and you are no longer in control of it. It is a recipe for a broken neck.

The first thing I did was unbolt the rest of the saw from the bar, no sense having the whole saw destroyed just because the bar was likely to be ruined. Next, I pounded a wedge into a small crack in the kerf next to the bar. It wasn't much, but I hoped to lift the tree enough to wiggle the bar. No luck. So, I went to the truck for a rope and a cam-strap. I gingerly positioned the strap as high on the stem as I could reach and cammed it to the rope. I took the rope to a small cottonwood and made a Z-drag. I pulled it tight and went back to the tree; I pounded the wedge; I went to the cottonwood and tightened the rope; I went to the tree and pounded the wedge; I went back to the rope and pulled it again. When I returned to the tree, low and behold, it had let go of my bar and chain. I inspected the bar and could find nothing wrong, so I put it back on the saw. Amazingly, it was completely undamaged.

I was back in the Douglas fir business, so I grabbed a couple of extra wedges, doubled them up, and pounded them into the now open kerf. The tree started to go, so I ran away. Instead of a satisfying crash, however, I heard nothing. I turned back to look. The small branches of my dead tree had become entangled with the live branches of a neighboring tree, and the whole thing was hung up. This, dear reader, is the time to go home. This is the time to collect all of your functioning equipment, not to mention your good health, and slope off to the nearest pub for some cold refreshment and a few moments of silent reflection.

Unless, of course, you want to give it one last try before you go . . . . Foolishly, perhaps, I tightened my Z-drag one last time and began some careful cutting just above my original cut. This is a dangerous business because the butt of the tree can snap loose at any time and take your head with it. Without any further mishap, however, I was able to carefully re-cut it and have it fall exactly where I had planned. The Douglas fir is now in my wood pile. I told you that I was smarter than a dead tree.