The high pitched scream. The vibrating power. The imminent threat of horrendous injury or even sudden, violent death. You’ve assessed the scene, formulated your plan; you take a deep breath and begin your plan’s execution. The chips fly as you begin; in no time at all one of nature’s largest, and most majestic organism’s teeters on the edge of falling. One last check to ensure the area is safe, and you begin the final cut. You hope that you have planned correctly. You hope that there isn’t a random, unseen flaw in your plan, or in the wood. Trees don’t hold grudges, but fate can be a fickle mistress. The giant begins to move, and so do you; you quickly turn and follow your escape path. You must resist the urge to turn to soon, but you want to see it all. Finally you turn and watch the final moments of a giant’s fall. With a loud crash it’s over, and you can relax as you plan the next phase.
Combining the intricacies and mysteries of physics and trigonometry with the thick browed savagery of a more primal time, the art of the sawyer is a thing of primal beauty. The work is physically demanding, as sweaty as it is dangerous. It is also a mental game: a challenge and a thrill. It can become an obsession. Continue reading