Tim Sample: Stories I Never Told You

Chainsaw symphony

Tue, 09/30/2014 - 7:00am

I had my car stereo tuned to the oldies station the other morning as I headed over to the local java joint for a much-needed reboot of my mid-morning caffeine levels. To be honest I wasn’t even paying all that much attention to the radio.

I was just cruising along catching a few tunes until the last screaming guitar lick began to fade out and a new batch of commercials came on. The very first ad was all it took puncture my reverie and shift my systems to full alert.

That’s an excellent example of the way I tend to process information.

Most of the time, I’m just bopping along, minding my own business, sorting through the random details of my day-to-day life. Then something happens. Seemingly out of nowhere some minor sensory blip, some insignificant sight, sound or scent interrupts the regularly scheduled programing to announce that a major paradigm shift has occurred somewhere in the immediate vicinity.

By “immediate vicinity” I am of course referring to the big world lurking just beyond the borders of my own mind.

In this particular instance the blip took the form of a local radio announcer delivering a supercharged Come-On-Down! pitch for some local hardware emporium.

Upbeat nearly to the point of hysteria, she seemed totally convinced that the world would be a safer, saner, happier place if everyone would just drop whatever they were doing at that moment (brain surgery? Spying for the NSA? Earwax removal?) and head over to XYZ Bros. Hardware for a Free!! No Obligation Wood Stove Demonstration!

Ah, there it is. As I was turning into Java Joint’s parking lot it suddenly hit me. It had happened again. Once more the subtle change of seasons had managed to sneak up on me when I wasn’t looking.

Sure enough, I began gazing around the parking lot and the signs were all there: that first blush of color in the branches of the maple trees; the hint of eau de skunk wafting on the morning breeze — and something else, something way off in the distance.

There it is again. Is it possible? Yes! There’s no mistaking that sound for anything else. It’s the distinctive wail of the first chainsaw of the season!

Don’t misunderstand me. I have nothing against wood heat in general. After all, as a Mainer born and raised, I’m aware that the rituals of harvesting, cutting, splitting, stacking and heating with wood are deeply ingrained in our Maine culture.

Heck, for all I know, a woodstove might be just what you’re looking for.

In fact I even thought that myself when I was 25 years old and surrounded on all sides by acres and acres of trees. Not just any trees either. Those trees happened to be growing on my own land.

Why pay for oil when there’s a zillion free BTUs growing around me? It seemed to me that energy independence was just a chainsaw, a splitting maul and a few Saturday afternoons away. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, for one thing, it didn’t take me long to discover that owning a wood lot is a bit like striking oil on your property. It’s good news. But, the steps required to corral those free range BTUs and put them to work heating your home require an incredible amount of work.

Somehow I’d managed to convince myself that I just needed to cut down a few trees, saw ‘em up, split ‘em and toss ‘em into the wood stove. Well yeah, except it turns out that you also need to “season the wood” before you try burning it.

So unless you’ve planned several years ahead (Me? Plan ahead?) you’ll end up burning (or attempting to burn) “green wood” which:

A) generates almost zero BTU’s and
B) coats your chimney with flammable creosote.

In order to avoid a chimney fire you’ll need to go out and buy a few chords of seasoned hardwood, often at prices that make heating oil seem like a relative bargain.

I could keep going but by now you’ve got the idea. If you’re determined to heat with wood, please don’t let me stand in your way. In fact wood heat features one benefit, which no other fuel can offer.

My octogenarian neighbor on that long ago dirt road had spent his entire life “working in the woods.” One day he stopped by when I was almost finished splitting a cord of wood in my dooryard.

As I stood there wiping the sweat from my brow he grinned and said, “Ayuh, wood’s the only fuel that’ll heat you twice! Once when you cut and once more when you burn it!”